In last two weeks of September, 1927, the CBS broadcasting company was formed. Babe Ruth completed a baseball season where for the first time ever someone hit 60 homeruns. Then in the first week of October 1927, the first talking motion picture, “The Jazz Singer” debuted. But none of us are here because of  those landmark pop culture events. We’re here because in the middle of all those Roaring 20’s fireworks, there was a quiet event. On September 24, 1927 – Rina Laurito was born. Delivered by midwife in a house on South 15th St. to Italian immigrant parents who met here in United States, fell in love and started a family in South Philadelphia. Of course, she wasn’t born Rina Laurito, she was Chiarina Galasso. “Chiarina.” Come on, say it with me – “Chiarina.” From the day she entered the English speaking world of “ 'mericans” outside her front door at 812 Mc Kean St., to her final days in the hospital when nurses were verifying her ID, that name was simultaneously a conversation starter, a stumbling block, and a differentiator. Chiarina – say it right, and for a moment, it physically puts a smile on your face.

But let’s come back to the notion of quiet events, and the fact that great things grow from the smallest of seeds. You might say that making the most of what was presented to her was our mom’s signature move. She was a recycler before it was chic, visiting second hand and antique stores with our Great Aunt Placida in the 1950’s hunting for pieces that could be brought back to life. There was the time she made the most out of a visit by Ronald Reagan to the offices of General Electric where she worked. Reagan was the host of a TV show called General Electric Theater back in the 50’s. As the Gipper approached my mom’s work area, she “accidentally” dropped an earring. The gallant Reagan said, “Allow me,” bent over and returned the earring to its resourceful owner, securing our mom a little facetime with the future president. Those who have sat at her dining room table or who visited our house for the many holiday meals & family parties over the years know of her talent in the kitchen for special events, but more exquisite to us was her ability on any given night to open the fridge, gather random items and create a fabulous meal; “concoctions” she called them, from seemingly nothing. Without question, our mom’s Blue Ribbon “concoction” was cooked up from three simple ingredients – Rina, Len, and a generous portion of love.

Rina and Len met in 1957, introduced by a mutual friend, who called my dad one day and said “I’ve got just the girl for you.” Those of you who’ve known them as hyperactive St. Christopher Seniors Club members know that they were seldom seen apart, but it didn’t start that way. In fact, there was in the beginning an illadvised, overconfident initial phone call by my dad that ended in a hangup by my mom. Fortunately, their mutual friend was as persistent and crafty a planner as our mom, and there was successfully planned first date. Our Dad recognized a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity when it presented itself. Once engaged, our mom used to bring coworkers in to Linton’s Restaurant on Woodland Ave. in Southwest Philadelphia to meet the suave young manager Len who would become her inseparable partner for the next 6 decades. Between the day they were introduced to the day they walked out of Epiphany of Our Lord church as husband & wife on May 3, 1958 only 361 days had passed. From there, Rina created her family. Three children came along soon enough to a household that also included our grandmother, Rina’s mom, Nonnona as we called her. Running a household where she was simultaneously loving spouse, devoted daughter and nurturing mother, our Mom worked tirelessly to get the family recipe just right, adding a bit of this and a touch of that. Sometimes it was a bit of advice or homework supervision that lives on in skills and an attitude toward hard work which benefit my sisters and me to this day. Sometimes it might have been the touch of a wooden cooking spoon that administered 1960’s style discipline to the bottom of yours truly. Whatever she added, the staples in the mix were the undeniable love between our parents, devotion to her family, her willingness to be of service, and her strong faith in God which she witnessed to her children and grandchildren.

Later in life, after the hard work of raising a family was done and our dad retired, she was fortunate enough to enjoy the bliss of being a grandmother, and of spending almost 2 decades traveling; reaping rewards of a life well spent. Egypt, Spain, China, Alaska, Russia, white water rafting in their 70’s, cruising around the horn of South America AND THROUGH the Panama Canal (‘cause ya gotta do it both ways). There might even have been a few dozen casino bus trips sprinkled in. I can’t possibly enumerate all the places they visited. But if you spent ten minutes with our mom, she would gladly to tell you the most amazing travel stories, supported by meticulously compiled photo and memory albums.

Commencing with her family’s tense trip in 1938 to Mussolini’s Italy, to her endless globetrotting well past the age of 80, our mom was an ultimate traveler. And now, the ultimate traveler takes the ultimate trip. Home. Thank you for coming to bid her farewell. Ciao e Buon viaggio, Mom. Until we see you again, Chiarina.

“Chiarina” – saying it puts a smile on your face. Knowing her - put a smile on our hearts.