Sepia Saturday 591. Sixteenth in a photo blog series on my maternal Italian ancestors from Gloversville, Fulton Co., N.Y.

The first studio photo of my Italian-American maternal grandfather Antonio W. Laurence was take in 1904 when he was 2 years old. My great-grandparents Peter and Mary “Mamie” Laurence were married circa 1901 in Gloversville, Fulton County, N.Y.

Tony was their first child, born 10 May 1902. And I’m sure Peter proudly sent a copy of this photo to his family back in Italy.

A jaunty nautical portrait

My grandfather looks so cute in this photo, wearing a belted wool sailor-collared shorts-suit, lace-up boots and a cabbie hat — with a nautical striped shirt completing the picture. I particularly love his impish grin — which lasted throughout his life.

This toddler photo of Tony was taken at the W.L. Havens studio, located at 16 Bleeker Street in Gloversville, N.Y. — the same studio where his father Peter had his wedding photo taken.

The Laurence/di Lorenzo family takes shape

With my grandfather Tony’s birth, the Laurence/di Lorenzo family began to take shape. A couple of years later, my grandfather’s younger brother Joseph B. Laurence (aka Uncle Joe) was born — completing the family unit.

This might give the impression of a small family of parents and two sons. However, my great-grandparents Peter and Mamie lived with her parents (Antonio and Antoinette Curcio) at 128 E. Fulton St. for more than 15 years — a family within a family.

The vibrant Curcio household

This meant my grandfather Tony and his brother Joe grew up in the vibrant Curcio household of their maternal grandparents — surrounded by relatives and Italian culture.

There were some Curcio aunts their own age (their mother Mamie’s younger sisters) along with a few Del Negro cousins (children of Antoinette’s brother Michael Del Negro, whose family also lived there). So Tony and Joe had plenty of playmates and surrogate siblings during their childhoods.

Not until 1920 did the Laurence family move into a new house at 12 Wells Street — around the corner from the Curcios — to set up their own household. And by then, Tony and Joe were teenagers.

Up next: More childhood studio photos of Tony and Joe Laurence. Meanwhile, please visit the blogs of this week’s other Sepia Saturday participants.

© 2021 Molly Charboneau. All rights reserved.

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J is for Junior Prom: My awkward first date. Tenth of 26 posts in the April 2021 Blogging From #AtoZChallenge. Theme: “Endwell: My Early Teen Years”— adding my story to the family history mix. Please join me on the journey.

When I started classes at Maine-Endwell Junior High in 1963 — we Hooper Schoolers merged with the other elementary kids from Homer Brink across town. This brought new experiences — like changing classes and many teachers — along with new friendships that have lasted to this day.

But best of all were the monthly dances in the school gym, where we teens learned to socialize. That’s where some of my crushes developed — on boys and on dancing itself. I never missed a school dance, they were that much fun!

So much fun, that when Junior Prom rolled around in 1965, I really wanted to go. The problem was, you had to have a date — and at 15, I did not have a boyfriend or even a close enough male pal who could escort me.  Waiting to be asked

Then, boys were still expected to ask girls to the prom, and girls were supposed to wait/hope to be asked. The popular girls easily lined up dates — but as Prom Night drew closer, my dilemma seemed impossible.

Then one day after social studies, a classmate walked over to my desk — I’ll call him Guillaume (his French-class name) — and quickly asked me to go to the prom with him. I was so surprised, I blurted out “l’ll let you know” — and he blushed and walked away.

I’d known Guillaume since Hooper School. Although he was smart and a good classmate, I’d never had a crush on him — so he wouldn’t have been my choice for prom date. But our teacher, who’d overheard the exchange, thought I should give him a chance.

“Of course you’re going to tell him yes, aren’t you?” he asked. So in the end, that’s what I did — and that’s how I ended up on my awkward first date.

Figuring out the rules

In many ways, the early teens are an embarrassing time when you try to figure out the rules of life and where you fit in — all while being buffeted about by myriad pressures. Attending Junior Prom on my first real date was a prime example.

To begin with, I was the only one on my street going to Junior Prom that year. So news of my date spread up and down our block of 50-odd kids, assuring a large, raucous audience would be milling around our front lawn on the big night. Yikes!

Then there were the unfamiliar rules for formal dances. I’d need to get a new dress and shoes, have my hair pinned and sprayed into a updo by the hairdresser mom across the street, and buy a boutonniere for Guillaume — who was sure to bring me a corsage. This was all too much when I was used to flying solo at more casual school dances.

Prom night arrives

Yet to be at the Junior Prom, I went through it all. The hooting of the neighbor kids when I stepped out the front door with a corsage at my wrist. The car ride to the Junior High in the back seat with Guillaume (his mother at the wheel). The arrival at the dance, where everyone was paired up.

But then an odd thing happened. Although we were supposed to be in couples, at the prom everyone gravitated to their usual cliques — and it felt like a regular dance. The girls admired each others’ dresses while the boys fell into their own groups — and most of the dance songs were fast and freestyle, with nobody really sticking to their date.

The only truly awkward moment was the requisite couples slow dance — when Guillaume and I danced close, even though we’d never spent time together outside of class. And with that, the prom was over.

When Guillaume’s mom arrived to drive us home, she asked if we’d like to stop off for hamburgers or something on the way. But I begged off, since we were going to my grandparents’ house early the next day.

And after they dropped me off, I realized that even though I definitely had no sparks with Guillaume, I’d had a pretty good time at the Junior Prom — and I was glad I’d listened to that teacher and said yes.

Up next,  K is for Kents and the creek. Please leave a comment, then join me as Endwell: My Early Teen Years unfolds one letter at a time!

© 2021 Molly Charboneau. All rights reserved.

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