Jeanette Vento
13 October 1908 - September 19, 1982
Jeanette Vento was born on October 13, 1908.
As an adult, Jeanette left the house on Worrall St, in Poughkeepsie, and moved to New Jersey where she met and marred Raffaele Pasquarelli. Raffaele was born on Aug 29, 1912 Jeanette and Raffaele had one child, Dolores, born June 2, 1930. Dolores married Arthur Carter. Children of Dolores and Arthur Carter a) Arthur b) Jeffrey c) Michelle d) Traci Jeanette's 2nd marriage was to Ray Gaddis. They had two children: 2) Barbara Gaddis-Johnson 3) Raymond Gaddis III
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Aunt Babe and Aunt Jeanette
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Two of my Aunts, Aunt Jen and Aunt Babe had married and left the house on Mansion Street and moved to New Jersey and for many years, when I was a kid, I thought a vacation was a car ride to Paterson, New Jersey. Of course it was a family vacation or ritual and like all family events this trip had a fixed pattern that had to be followed. It started a day before departure with Uncle Johnny getting nervous about following the correct route. He owned the car and was the driver and navigator and if you tried to tell him anything related to route, speed, or bathroom stops he reacted with confusion and disgust. The car I remember best was a four door black 1949 Dodge Sedan. Johnny filled it up with gasoline, checked the oil, water, tires and washed it .
The morning of departure we loaded the trunk with our clothes and necessities packed in brown paper shopping bags. We also brought enough food for the two day trip - always pasta canned tomatoes that Aunt Josie and Nana had put up from the garden, homemade sausages ground in Nana’s kitchen. The paper bags allowed for a flexibility in maximizing every bit of trunk space. Next we loaded the people - three in the front and four in the back, rolled down the windows and headed to the bridge. Seven of us - three generations would descend on Aunt Babe and Aunt Jeanette and they were forewarned. For some almost religious reason, Aunt Jo always started singing as we approached the Mid-Hudson Bridge. “We're coming to the bridge, We're coming to the bridge, High Ho the Derrio, We're coming to the bridge” Of course everyone joined in and the clerk who collected the quarter fare for access thought we were deranged but harmless.
We headed south on 9W to Newburgh, our first stop, and picked up cartons of cigarettes from Uncle Pete destined for Aunt Babe and Aunt Jen. As a member of the New York Home Guard, Uncle Pete bought the cigarettes at the Stewart Air Force Base PX at a ridiculously reduced price. From this point on we were technically smuggling untaxed contraband across state lines and violating moral and ethical standards of the State of New York, New Jersey and the Federal Government. But we took the smokes and picked up some cannolies from an authentic Italian pastry shop near Uncle Pete’s store. We took Route 32 to Route 17 to the New Jersey border and half way to Aunt Babes we stopped at “The Red Apple Rest”. I loved this place. It was a mega hot dog hamburger joint that had pasted advertising billboards for miles with the warning, “10 Miles to the Red Apple Rest” , “5 Miles”, “!00 Yards”. Just the thing to build expectations in a kid's imagination. They even had a sign as you left that said “You Have Just Eaten At the Red Apple Rest, Come Back Soon”. You bet! On the return trip if I had anything to say about it! But really that would be Uncle Johnny’s call. In addition to Red Hots and burgers and fries they sold souvenirs, pennants, flags , balloons and kitsch of every stripe and variety. We visited the facilities and later lined up at the hot dog window. One hotdog and a small soda was the routine and under no circumstances was any other purchase considered. But, they could not stop us kids from looking, and we knew we would come this way again. After the nosh it was back in the car and over the rolling hills of Route 17 in New Jersey. There was lots of farm land plowed in neat rows and then the suburbs of Paterson and the newly constructed houses and garden centers selling pots of flowers and freshly picked corn, and then we went across the Passaic River into the city and the odor of yeast and hops from the beer brewing companies was thick in the early afternoon air.
The morning of departure we loaded the trunk with our clothes and necessities packed in brown paper shopping bags. We also brought enough food for the two day trip - always pasta canned tomatoes that Aunt Josie and Nana had put up from the garden, homemade sausages ground in Nana’s kitchen. The paper bags allowed for a flexibility in maximizing every bit of trunk space. Next we loaded the people - three in the front and four in the back, rolled down the windows and headed to the bridge. Seven of us - three generations would descend on Aunt Babe and Aunt Jeanette and they were forewarned. For some almost religious reason, Aunt Jo always started singing as we approached the Mid-Hudson Bridge. “We're coming to the bridge, We're coming to the bridge, High Ho the Derrio, We're coming to the bridge” Of course everyone joined in and the clerk who collected the quarter fare for access thought we were deranged but harmless.
We headed south on 9W to Newburgh, our first stop, and picked up cartons of cigarettes from Uncle Pete destined for Aunt Babe and Aunt Jen. As a member of the New York Home Guard, Uncle Pete bought the cigarettes at the Stewart Air Force Base PX at a ridiculously reduced price. From this point on we were technically smuggling untaxed contraband across state lines and violating moral and ethical standards of the State of New York, New Jersey and the Federal Government. But we took the smokes and picked up some cannolies from an authentic Italian pastry shop near Uncle Pete’s store. We took Route 32 to Route 17 to the New Jersey border and half way to Aunt Babes we stopped at “The Red Apple Rest”. I loved this place. It was a mega hot dog hamburger joint that had pasted advertising billboards for miles with the warning, “10 Miles to the Red Apple Rest” , “5 Miles”, “!00 Yards”. Just the thing to build expectations in a kid's imagination. They even had a sign as you left that said “You Have Just Eaten At the Red Apple Rest, Come Back Soon”. You bet! On the return trip if I had anything to say about it! But really that would be Uncle Johnny’s call. In addition to Red Hots and burgers and fries they sold souvenirs, pennants, flags , balloons and kitsch of every stripe and variety. We visited the facilities and later lined up at the hot dog window. One hotdog and a small soda was the routine and under no circumstances was any other purchase considered. But, they could not stop us kids from looking, and we knew we would come this way again. After the nosh it was back in the car and over the rolling hills of Route 17 in New Jersey. There was lots of farm land plowed in neat rows and then the suburbs of Paterson and the newly constructed houses and garden centers selling pots of flowers and freshly picked corn, and then we went across the Passaic River into the city and the odor of yeast and hops from the beer brewing companies was thick in the early afternoon air.