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ALONG THE WAY: Diane Smith

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March 16, 2010

 

By Diane Smith

Record-Courier Capital Bureau 

 

 

Joseph Bica is proving to be a hands-on mayor. Literally.

An alert reader called us last Friday morning to report that the Ravenna mayor was out with the street crew, raking out a flower bed in front of Guido’s Restaurant.

I thought that would make for a decent photo, but Mayor Bica, who is normally not camera-shy, was adamant that I not take his photo. So I didn’t.

He said he was there as part of his ongoing effort to see how city employees do their jobs. “I can’t make decisions for them if I don’t know what they do,” he said.

He was accompanied by two street crew employees, Kevin and Shane, who said  the mayor was working just as hard as everybody else.

And shortly into his assignment, Bica had already made a decision.

“I can see they need new rakes,” he said. “I’ve determined that.”

———

I recently spent an afternoon with three of the coolest ladies on the planet.

Matilda Shafer, Florence Austin and Letty Sicuro were sharing memories of their mother, Carmelina Sferra. The sisters are selling the Diamond Street house that was the last neighborhood, family-run grocery store of its kind in Ravenna. It also was the Sferra family home, and Mrs. Austin lived there for many years after her mother’s death.

Mrs. Shafer’s daughter, Rita Labajetta, and Mrs. Sicuro’s daughter, Loretta Sicuro, described the three sisters as the “golden girls,” regaling me with stories of infamous shopping trips among the three. 

One time, the trio was “carjacked” after a girl robbed the grocery store and jumped in the car with them, they recalled. Fortunately, nobody was harmed.

Someone showed me a childhood photo of Mrs. Shafer when she made her first communion in Italy. The family emigrated to the United States when Shafer was 5.

And while the family debated the origins of the photo, I noticed another photo on display, this one of Letty Sicuro’s granddaughter. The resemblance between the two girls was striking. Apparently, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

———

No, I’m not related to the Smiths of Windham.

Or the Smiths of Randolph.

Or the Smiths of Mantua.

In fact, if your name is Smith, the odds are downright slim that I’m related to anyone in your family.

Since I’ve been asked if I’ve been related to various people as I’ve gone to various locations in Portage County, I thought it was a good idea to make it clear that I can literally count the Smiths I’m related to on one hand. And two of those are children.

Dad had four sisters but was the only son of his father. He then had three children, my brother being his only son. Dad has only one surviving male cousin, who lives in Summit County.

And Mom’s family was by far the most prolific. She grew up with eight siblings, the ninth dying before her birth. Many of those siblings were married more than once, and one uncle had or adopted children with three of his wives.

So while I have 42 first cousins, including steps and adoptees, none of them are Smiths. 

Meanwhile, Dad has the following oft-repeated wisdom on why there are so many Smiths.

“At the beginning of time, everybody’s name was Smith and as you did something wrong, you had to change your name,” he said. “There’s just us good ones left.”

 




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