Family reminiscence by Karen Lawler.
One of my grandfathers, Michael DeRosa, was a musician. He was a wonderful harpist who went on the road with his brothers and father in a dance band when he was 14. He died when I was about three, so I had only a limited opportunity to know him. In fact, he taught me an Italian song that I still remember.
He played often at the Trianon and the Aragon Ballrooms in Chicago in dance bands—this was when there were harps in dance bands. He had a beautiful rosewood harp (Grandma De threw it out into the alley when he died; I wish we still had it), and he carried the harp on his back on the streetcar to gigs. Today, a moving van is required to move a harp.
The rest of the family played the violin, cello, viola, and bass. He would come home from playing tea dances for millionaires’ children and draw pictures of the girls’ clothes. Then Grandma De would buy the material and make them for my mother. She was the best-dressed poor child around.
They moved a lot. When they were flush, they rented a house or apartment. When they were not, they lived with Grandpa Mike’s mother, Annarose.
Musical talent ran in the family. My Uncle Mike was a wonderful pianist—actually concert quality—but he generally played for group sings and dances. He died of a cerebral hemorrhage at 35; it was connected to kidney disease. He teased my sister Ruth all the time, and she did not like him very well.
I really never knew him, as he died when I was less than two. But I look so much like him that my Grandma De kept pictures of him and me at the same age hanging over her bed.
Everyone thought I inherited the musical talent. My parents gave me piano lessons for 15 years, but all I can do is sing.