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#452 Julian Lusardi Grandma Was in Business

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'In the early 1900s, many Italian families were going hungry in their homeland.'

Julian Lusardi

This is my memory of the words I heard from the mouth of my grandma, Frances Lusardi when she was in her eighties. And also the words of my grandad, Giulio Lusardi, which he shared when we worked together selling ice cream in Leeds Market, just at the top of Butcher’s Row. We choose what we remember, that goes for the three of us.

In the early 1900s, many Italian families were going hungry in their homeland. Working in England was a lifeline. It took a bit of doing though. You’ve got to know an Italian family who are already established and who are prepared to give you a shot, a sort of homespun probationary period. Must be an Italian family on account of you can’t speak English (yet).

If you pass muster, you get a more permanent job and then, and only then, you go back to Italy so you can bring your family over.

Grandma’s family came from Monte Casino and her dad came to Leeds and Scarborough, on probation. Now an Italian mum was expected to work, work hard and long hours. The early Italian immigrant families lived close to each other. In Grandma’s case, they lived near York Road and Burmantofts. There was always someone willing to look after your children because there was always someone expecting a baby and too far on to work. These kids got really mixed up and couldn’t tell who was a relative and who was just a neighbour. They all got called Aunty. I remember Grandma saying to me ‘of course you know her, she’s family’. Got to admit I’m still not sure but I kiss them in any case.

Grandma and her sister, my Aunty Sara (proper aunty that is) worked together in the streets around Burton’s factory on Hudson Road. They would take it in turns - one would play the tingalary (a sort of barrel organ) while the other would dance and sing. Grandma noticed the look on the worker’s faces as they rushed down Burton’s main yard. No time, no time. She could see their hunger, their lack of choice. Then it came to her - she (well her mum) was friends with a baker. She could get bread cakes on credit, stand at the head of the yard with a tray of cakes held by a strap around her neck. Penny a cake.

Grandma was in business.