In Honor of Ermelinda Alberico Lewis

Celebrating 100 Years

Posted by Nancy Lee on June 07, 2024

Today, on her one-hundredth birthday, we honor Ermelinda Alberico Lewis, a mother to four, a grandmother to ten, and a great-grandmother to sixteen, a woman who has worked hard and lived a century pouring into the next generations.

My mother-in-law, Emily, and I recently visited her at her daughter Lisa’s house. She greeted me with a big hug and said, “I remember you from the time Paulie first brought you home. You look just the same.” Then she sat down next to me and took my hand.

Ermelinda, affectionately known as “Aunt Ermie,” was born in 1924 in Utica, New York, the second to youngest of seven children born to immigrants from Italy. The four boys were the oldest; one was my husband’s grandfather. Ermie was sandwiched between her two sisters.

Their mother, Palma Dulcenome, and her twin sister were orphans raised in a convent in Italy. According to family legend, when the girls became “of age,” they would be displayed for men to choose as wives. A young Italian who had established himself with a business in Utica, New York, returned to Italy to find a bride. He chose Palma’s sister, the twin with dark hair and eyes, and sailed with her back to the United States. She cried the whole way back because she was separated from her beloved sister, so her husband sent his brother Daniel to Italy to bring home and marry the blue-eyed, light-haired Palma who would become Ermie’s mother.

Aunt Ermie said her mother never talked about growing up in the convent. Besides teaching her to cook and bake, the nuns taught her how to do intricate needlework; she specialized in working with brocade.

Ermie grew up on Jay Street in Utica in a neighborhood consisting mostly of Italians and Syrians. "We lived on Jay Street, then it was Catherine Street, then Broad Street which was the end of civilization at the time, and then there were the railroad tracks and old businesses," Aunt Ermie said. The upstairs apartment and the house next door were filled with relatives, and many other family members lived throughout the city. Italian was the predominant language spoken at home. 

Ermie’s father had epilepsy and was unable to work. She told a story of him as a boy when he had an “episode.” “They dressed him for a funeral,” she said. “They put him in a big tub of ice water and he came to, but he was never the same after that.” 

Even though Ermie’s father didn’t work, he helped his wife with the canning and cooking. They always had plenty of food since his uncle owned Alberico and Funicello Wholesalers at the corner of Bleecker and Albany Street. They sold oils and flours in barrels and sacks, and macaroni in thin, lightweight, fragile wood containers. "We had the best meats and cheeses," Ermie said, "because it was the family business, we always had food."

(As a side note, the Albericos are proud to be related to the late Annette Funicello, one of Disney's original Mouseketeers.)

Ermie grew up with conditions that are hard for us to relate to today. “We didn’t have hot water or a furnace,” she said. She described the coal stove in the kitchen as the source of heat. “The big water tub in front of the stove in the winter would warm water so we could bathe, and we had a water well where we used to float the clothespins and pretend they were ships.”

They would heat bricks and wrap them in towels to heat their beds before they went to sleep. “We were three to a bed. My spot was across the end of the bed,” she said. 

They had an ice box and had to leave a sign out front so the delivery man would know what size chunk of ice to deliver. “My mother was so excited she was almost sick when one of my brothers bought her a real refrigerator for the first time,” Ermie said.

Ermie grew up cooking and baking with her mother. She remembers mashing the tomatoes for her mother’s canned sauce and waking up every Friday morning to freshly baked bread. Then her mother would make fried dough as a special treat for the family.

My mother-in-law, Emily, also fondly remembers her grandmother’s cooking. “The house always smelled so good! Grandma was always cooking or baking something. I especially remember her giant ravioli. They were amazing! Each one was a meal in itself, the size of a pizza.” 

One day when Ermie was playing in the street, she remembers getting run over by a Model-T Ford driven by the owner of a local business, Malara’s Record Store. She wasn’t hurt. "Back then nobody sued anybody," Ermie said, "but the store owner bought me a doll and brought it over to the house." Unfortunately, the doll had a sad end. Ermie's brothers were fighting over it, and it ended up in the fire.

Ermie’s older brothers left school when they were old enough to work and began contributing money to the household. Joseph, my husband's grandfather, left school after sixth grade and worked on the railroad. Another brother, Dominick, worked for Hotel Martin and was in a CC camp where he learned to bake bread. Carl moved to Buffalo and worked in a car factory, and Nicholas joined the service.

Until sixth grade, Ermie attended the Catholic school at her local parish, Mary Mount Carmel, just a few blocks from her home. She then went to public school and left after tenth grade to work. 

She started as a domestic worker, then worked in a mill folding men’s underwear, and finally landed her dream job—she was hired at Ken-Wel Sporting Goods where she became an expert leather cutter. 

“I started by stuffing boxing gloves,” she said. “You had to know the leathers and know the stretch. I used to cut the leather for baseballs and basketballs. The patterns were made from iron. I loved my job, and I was very proud of myself.” She worked there full-time until she married years later and started a family. Then she continued to fill in as needed when her mom could watch her children.

Aunt Ermie was known as an excellent baker, and she used to sell her coffee rings around the neighborhood. "I made them in two sizes and decorated them with nuts on top. I used to have baked goods laid out all over my dining room table." Ermie partnered with her upstairs tenant. Ermie baked, and her tenant, Marion Heinz, sold and delivered her delicious baked goods around the neighborhood.

Ermie was also known for baking Syrian breads. "We used to smell it from the corner when we were walking home from school," her daughter, Lisa, said.

Ermie and her husband owned the neighborhood store, "Ken's Market," which they ran out of their garage on Dudley Ave in Corn Hill. Her store sold everything from cold cuts to refrigerated items and frozen foods. "Cigarettes and candy were my biggest sales. I would get the kids stopping on the way home from Roosevelt School. Lord knows what they stole from me when I was busy!" Ermie said.

Ermie lived through some difficult times. Pearl Harbor was bombed when Ermie was seventeen. This was hard on the family since Ermie's brother Nick was stationed there at the time. They found out later that he was on a rooftop washing out his socks when the bombs fell. Nick was quiet and didn’t talk much about his experience there.

Ermie remembers when her baby niece, at only nine months old, choked on a marble and died. It was my mother-in-law's baby sister, Palma, who was named after her grandmother. She was only three and remembers playing with her at the time, a memory that will never leave her. Aunt Ermie will never forget the doctor coming to their apartment and carrying baby Palma out in a suitcase.

The worst tragedy she lived through was losing her son suddenly when he was only forty. He was a strong, healthy correctional officer in his prime of life. Ermie was with him when he dropped onto his bed after dinner, the result of a virus that attacked his heart. It was shocking. He had no symptoms.

It was difficult for the whole family, but they found comfort from his fellow prison guards. They shut down the prison, and at the funeral, a long line of guards dressed in uniform honored him.

Ermie lived in the same house for over sixty years. She recently moved in with her daughter and sold her house. The transition has been tough for her, even though is grateful to be with her family.

So what is Aunt Ermie's legacy? Ermie doesn't feel she has anything to pass on to the next generation since times are so different. But her daughter and niece feel differently. "We learned a lot from you, Aunt Ermie," her niece Emily said.

"What did you learn from me?"

"To be close to family."

Aunt Ermie continued the tradition started by her mother. Family members knew they could stop by her house any time, and they would be greeted with love and good food. "Every Sunday the whole family would go to my mother's house,” Lisa said. “She would open her drop leaf table, and it would fill the whole room. My three girls always came, and when they got older, their children, too, and my sisters and their children when they were around. She would make delicious Italian meals and baked goods.”

Emily remembers going over with her children as well. "It was like a home away from home," Joey, Emily’s son said. 

"And I remember going over for lunch all the time when I went to Roosevelt School," Emily’s daughter said.

"When it got too much for her, everyone started coming to my house," Lisa said. “Now I am continuing the tradition.”

After she thought for a moment, Ermie came up with advice to share with the next generation. "Don't hold onto anger and resentment; don't knock anyone, especially when they are in your family. And always be there for your family members. My sister had nine kids; God bless her! I was always helping care for her kids.”

I would like to add that Ermie worked hard her whole life to make sure her children had a better life than she did. And she passed down her passion for Italian cooking and baking. Her family members fondly remember all the specialty items Ermie made—donuts, cheesecakes, Easter pies, Easter breads in the shape of bunny heads, cassata, sausage rolls, and pastries for the holidays.

Aunt Ermie is the last living relative of her generation. “I never thought I would make it this far,” she said. Yet, at one hundred years old, she is still going strong. Her mind is intact, she has no major health issues, and she still creates lovely, knitted items. But more importantly, she is still among us enriching our lives. If we could all be so blessed to follow in her footsteps!

*Background photo of lower Genesee Street, Utica, New York.  (Year unknown) from getarchive.net.