I was born in the original Palo Alto Hospital. This was three Palo Alto Hospitals ago. We bought a ranch in Los Altos in 1933 or 1934. It backed the creek on Alta Mesa Cemetery, and there wasn’t a soul around. It was the most beautiful place you could see. We were there until 1948 or 1950. Then we bought a ranch in Santa Clara on Lawrence and Reed. I cried when my dad sold that ranch, but it wasn’t profitable.

My mother’s name was Lena and my father was Giuseppe. He was Italian; she was German. Both of them were from the old country; they met in night school. I don’t know what year they met. They worked for John L. McNabb who was an attorney for the Golden Gate Bridge.

My mother had a secret. She always wanted to go on that show “I’ve Got a Secret,” because she waited on Herbert Hoover.

My parents met while they were in High School. Neither one of them could speak English, but one night he took her home because she had no way to get there. After that they started going out together. Then, they both worked for the McNabbs.

My dad was a gardener at that time. When he bought the ranch, we started farming. The kids had to work in those days; it wasn’t like today.

I had one brother who passed away and one sister who is still alive who lives in San Jose. Her name is Rosemary. We get along pretty good but since I lost my little puppy this year, I kind of feel bad and I don’t call her anymore because he went wherever I went.

I could never find another little dog like that. His name was Rusty. That was my wife’s dog. I named him Rusty Wallace after the race – car driver. After I had him fixed I called him Rusty Ball-less.

He was an abandoned puppy. He was just a little guy. I have had dogs all of my life, but this one was special. I made a headstone for him. We had just got back from Oregon. The next day, he spotted a squirrel and was running across the road and a car was going to fast and got him. And it wasn’t the guy’s fault. That dog loved to chase cats and squirrels, but he wouldn’t touch our own cats.

My Mom
My mom was a great lady. She worked hard right alongside my father. She got the ball rolling in the morning. In apricot season she got up at four in the morning and was the last one to go to bed. It was three meals a day plus all of the work.