Kudos to Paul Christopher! I appreciate his recent commentary on life in Fredonia’s Little Italy. As a former resident, permit me to piggyback on his commentary.

My first six years were spent in our home on Gillis Street with four generations under one roof. There was an abundance of family, friends, love and material blessings. It remained a family hub until 2016.

In Little Italy, success and prosperity were not the exception. These mostly Sicilian immigrants and their families brought an enviable work ethic and entrepreneurial drive that benefited all of Fredonia. Doctors, lawyers, business owners and educators sprang from this neighborhood. Others worked for local industries and were thriving participants in the American Dream. This success story includes much of my family tree.

My grandparents and parents were entrepreneurs. My father became a prominent home builder. Great grandfather, who spoke little English and signed his name with an “X” , was a merchant and real estate investor. My father’s father who lived on Link Street was a highly skilled blacksmith. My mother’s father, A.J. “Black Jack” Privateer owned a fruit market and more notably, the Eagle Cafe, later branded “BJ’s”. Yes, that’s the same BJ’s still operating in downtown Fredonia after 90 plus years.

I remember the ethnic slurs. Slightly before my time it was even worse than spoken words. Those biases were actually written into real estate deed restrictions. Property ownership could be denied on some village streets if you were among the “undesirables” of race and nationality as well as others who were considered as being “of questionable character” and “detrimental to the neighborhood.” These starkly offensive restrictions were rendered unenforceable by the Supreme Court in 1948 and finally made illegal some 20 years later.

Regarding the comments on the fire department, one local history buff was able to tell me the name of the first Italian in the department. Exclusion was not an actual written policy but apparently it was the practice.

Another memory of such exclusion comes from a conversation with my mother. Around 1963 we moved to Westerly Drive. During the summer, some of my friends, mostly the children of local business executives, would disappear to spend afternoons at a country club. Naturally, I asked my mother why we didn’t join. Her fiery response; “Because years ago, Italians weren’t welcome there until the club needed their money. We will never join”. We never did. According to mom’s long memory, successful Italians wrote checks that didn’t bounce and the club needed a share of their growing prosperity.

Thankfully, organizations with such exclusionary practices have long since seen the light.

Our Little Italy was a great place to live. Sure, we took shots from bigots but now those prejudices have faded and perhaps, according to one old friend, reversed. He was fond of saying this… “There are two types of people in the world, Italians and those who wish they were”. I’m not sure if that’s entirely true but in the context of local history, it’s fun to think about.

Rod Pennica is a Fredonia resident.