Giuseppa Catanese Lo Schiavo

Giuseppa Catanese Lo Schiavo

One hundred years ago the Spanish influenza took you from your family. At first your 10 year old son Anthony, and your 3 year old daughter Giuseppa (Jo), came down with the flu. Neither of them were expected to survive, but survive they did. Instead, the flu took your life and that of your oldest daughter Maria, who followed you only two days later.

Seven children were left motherless. Your oldest, Lawrence, was 18 years old; your youngest, Emily, was an infant only 6 months old. In between were Manuel, 14, Rose, 12, Anthony, 10, Nel, 7, and Jo, my mother, who was only 3 years old.

Grandfather became a single father at a time it wasn’t common. To his credit he kept the family together. Rose, who was only a 6th grader, became a caretaker. But after a few months Grandfather found a way for her to attend school part time and finish her education.

My mother, Jo, longed for her mother. She became the mother she wished she had known, a loving and selfless mother. When Jo passed in 2007, the family was reunited. I like to picture them gathered around the family table.

Giuseppa was born in Isnello, Sicily and died when only 34 at her home in Evans City on Dec. 7, 1918. Grandmother, I remember you when I look at your pictures, I remember you when I hold your things, I remembered you when I heard stories about you, I remembered you when I stood in front of your childhood home, and I remembered you when your great-grandchildren were baptized in the coverlet that once covered your babies. Grandmother, although you have been gone 100 years and I never knew you, you are not forgotten.

Your Grandaughter,

Natalie