Excerpt from Michael Sanchelli Memoirs – Depression Years

My father never gave up on his singing, even when he was sick, he still gave it his best when he was in the mood.  Every Sunday night before he would come in and go to bed, he would go out to the middle of the big bridge and sing ‘America the Beautiful’.  I still remember the time when Mrs. Steele who lived way down the other end of the Hollow, commented to me one day, “I was telling my kids it was time to go to bed one Sunday night, when my son Donald piped up, ‘Oh no ma, Tony Sanchelli didn’t sing America yet’ “, so the voice of Swede Hollow also became the time piece on Sunday night.

It was about at this period (around 1927) of my life that I would witness an old Italian way of making wine.  I walked in the front door of my house one evening and there were two Italians kneeling by my father who was seated on a chair, they were trimming his toe nails and washing his fee, then they picked him up and carried him across the big bridge and to the Barilla’s front yard.  They stood him up in a great big wooden half barrel, then the fun started.   Two men would dump crates of dark blue grapes in the barrel, my father was mashing the grapes with his bare feet and singing at the top of his voice, songs of Italy.  I had witnessed a scene hardly ever done in this country even at that time.  I had seen my father mash grapes and sing before, but he always had rubber boots on.

It seems that summer is officially over and we here are grudgingly moving into fall and a new school year.

But this summers highlight was the family reunion held in Montana at the Lubrecht Experimental Forest. For all of you who attended, I just wanted to say it was a pleasure to be with everyone again and to meet several of you for the first time. You were all Awesome!

A special Thank You is in order to Babe, Mike & Sierra who did so much work and all with a Smile.

Thank You Everyone