My father-in-law's brilliant memory of his Italian immigrant Father

To my father on Father's Day

text by louie galiano

My father was the son of Italian immigrants and grew up in an area of mostly other Italian immigrants. In their small town there was a movie house which in those days featured the then silent movies. If a boy wanted to see a movie he would stand outside of the theater until one of the old Italians paid his way in to read the subtitles and translate them into their language. When one entered the darkened building, my father said, he would be guided by the sound of children’s voices murmuring in Italian.

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