(Thomas F. Schiavoni recalls a childhood story from the memorable Ciampa sisters –Lena, Evelyn and Josie – along the sidewalks and cobblestones of Snow Hill and Hull Streets.) Lena spun her best stories at the kitchen table – center of Ciampa family life – while a pot of drip coffee percolated on a stovetop gas Read More…
(A fall morning provides an encounter with a creature from another world for North End resident, Thomas F. Schiavoni.) It happened in a matter of seconds during a walk home from an early morning errand. There was no need to rush off to work on a day filled with the sunshine and blue sky of Read More…
(Thomas F. Schiavoni recalls the late adventures of the memorable Ciampa sisters, lifelong residents of Snow Hill Street.) The second of the three Ciampa sisters, Evelyn often had to defer to her elder sibling Lena in menu planning and food preparation in the kitchen. Josie, being the youngest, didn’t stand a chance. She was perpetually Read More…
(On the second anniversary of the dispersal of the Occupy Boston movement, North End resident Thomas F. Schiavoni recalls the mid-December 2011 removal of squatters from their Dewey Square encampment.) I. A Long Distance Call The phone rang as I was scarfing down breakfast. The tentative voice of my 21-year-old Italian cousin greeted me. Two Read More…
North End resident, Thomas F. Schiavoni, examines a homespun tradition that has morphed into a war game among family, friends and co-workers. It’s that time of the year when “Good will to all!’ collides with wretched excess and gaudy displays of consumption. Sadly, we risk the danger of stampedes and unprovoked assaults at crowded malls Read More…
It’s that time of the year again. The transitional season – not quite summer, not quite fall – known as moving-in-and-out-days throughout Boston’s neighborhoods. North Enders, in particular, get to witness this annual migratory ritual at close range when building entrances and sidewalks are festooned with oversized mattresses, broken couch frames, desk lamps, laundry baskets, Read More…
We were returning home when a thick mist began to morph into raindrops. Evening darkness was falling upon the neighborhood. Plastic garbage bags and boxes were haphazardly strewn at doorways in anticipation of the next morning’s trash collection. Something bright red, discarded on a garbage pile, caught my eye. I first guessed that it was Read More…
The following is a commentary that appeared in condensed form in the January 22, 2010 edition of the Boston Business Journal. The full version is reproduced below. Room 801: Losing Sleep Over Boston’s Board of Appeals It’s a nondescript room with the ambience of a missile silo on the 8th floor of Boston City Hall. Read More…