Tony Mellaci – first responder for two generations

Sergeant medic Tony Mellaci overseas 1945.

He saved my father. Then, he saved me. In fact, he saved both of us multiple times. The first instance occurred 80 years ago this December. Just before Christmas of 1942, both Tony Mellaci and my father, Alex Barris, arrived at Camp Phillips – a U.S. Army training facility in Kansas. The army had posted them there to train as medics in the U.S. Army Medical Corps. Then, something happened Christmas Eve.

“They told me to go to the headquarters barracks and pick up a soldier who was sick, and deliver him to the hospital. So, I and another ambulance driver picked up your father (although I didn’t know him at the time) and we took him to the hospital,” Mellaci told me. “But we never saw the sick soldier. We stayed in the cab while other medics loaded him into the ambulance.” (more…)

There just ain’t no show

Historian David O’Keefe and I share stage at Festival Place, Nov. 12. Photo courtesy Jana Semeniuk.

The performance had gone on through a first act. An ensemble of jazz singers had sung their hearts out. A quartet of musicians played with enthusiasm we hadn’t seen in months. Our daughter sat with us watching, listening. The energy in the club seemed electric. Then, in the second act, she was invited to the stage to sing her part in a tribute to American composer Stephen Sondheim. But before singing a single note, Whitney Ross-Barris looked out over a nearly capacity room and paused with a big smile.

“This is just the most exciting thing,” she said, “to be back singing in front of an audience.” (more…)

An international day for aunts too

Mary Kontozoglus with her grandchildren, Christmas 2020.

The family had gathered from all over the continent. Some from Maryland. Others from New York and Florida. We had travelled from Toronto to Allentown, Pennsylvania, where my mother’s “baby brother” George was getting married to his fiancée Mary. But I had a problem.

“The battery in my camera’s dead,” I moaned. “And I want to take pictures of the wedding tomorrow.”

Since we were all foreigners to Allentown, except Mary, my future aunt, none of us knew where to buy replacement batteries except for her.

“I can help,” Mary said. Remember, this is the eve of her wedding to the family’s favourite uncle. So, no doubt, she had a million things on her mind. (more…)

Tony Mellaci – first responder for father and son

S/Sgt. Tony Mellaci in France, 1944.

He saved my father, and he saved me. In fact, he saved both of us multiple times. The first instance occurred 77 years ago this December. Just before Christmas of 1942, both Tony Mellaci and my father, Alex Barris, arrived at Camp Phillips – a U.S. Army training facility in Kansas. The army had posted them there to train as medics in the U.S. Army Medical Corps. Then, something happened on Christmas Eve.

“The lieutenant told me to go to the headquarters barracks and pick up a soldier who was sick, and deliver him to the hospital. So, I and another ambulance driver picked up your father (although I didn’t know him) and took him to the hospital,” Mellaci told me. “But we never saw the sick soldier. We stayed in the cab while other medics loaded him into the ambulance.” (more…)

Stitch in time

Royal Flying Corps aircraftman James Armishaw, in 1917 tunic tailored by Beauchamp & How.

First, they told me to stand still. For an hour. Then, a man I didn’t know except through my father ran a tape measure across my shoulders, down the length of my arms, around my waist and chest. A little later, when he needed a measurement down there, he ran the tape measure from my ankle up into my crotch. I kept on smiling even though, at about age 10, I had never done this sort of thing before. The man with the tape measure finally smiled and gave me a pat on the back.

“Ted, you’re going to love this,” he said, “your first ever tailor-made suit.” (more…)

A New York state of mind

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade lasted three hours and featured all manner of superhero, including Spiderman.
Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade lasted three hours and featured all manner of superhero, including Spiderman.

The turkey was done. Done like dinner, because it was American Thanksgiving dinner. The pies and other glorious pastries had come out for dessert. And the relatives I was visiting on Long Island, New York, were well into their annual ritual – eating, drinking, joking and generally over-indulging – during their Nov. 27-to-30 holiday. Except, for them, after the turkey, the dressing and the dessert, there was one other indulgence required.

“OK. Where are the flyers?” my cousin asked. “Gotta check the sales.” (more…)