The Immigrant

Sixteen-year-old Battista Lacaria arrived at Ellis Island in the early 1900s, marking the beginning of a life far from his parents, as he eventually found work on the railways and as a deep miner in Berryburg, WV. Over time, he became a farmer and purchased property between Bridgeport and Clarksburg, WV, in 1929. The accompanying image captures a moment from his farm, featuring my Aunt Kitty, who lived to be 100, alongside Andy, a retired deep mine mule—an invaluable asset to mining companies—where the Plow that Andy used has been restored and hangs on display.

The Mule is Andy a Retired Deep Mine Mule where a trained mine mule was more valuable to the a mining company then a man. The Plow that Andy used has been restored and hangs on display. Then a Tiny Child named Buddy. The older boy on the right is my father Frank Lacaria Sr.

Buddy

Many remember Buddy as a solitary man not realizing he was a high functioning autistic and trusting soul who possessed a quiet analytical personality.

Years ago, a ministry team visited Buddy, and they were taken aback by his quiet intelligence, often wondering what thoughts were racing through his mind; I would joke that he was likely pondering two simple questions: why they were there and when they would leave. After being diagnosed with Dysphagia in 2013, which necessitated a pureed diet for life, a nursing home placed Buddy on solid foods, resulting in a hospitalization. From his hospital room, he would gaze out the window, reflecting on his predicament as though he felt he had either been struck down or had eaten something forbidden. Faithfully unwavering in his Christian beliefs, Buddy passed away shorty thereafter leaving behind a legacy of resilience and conviction.

(Buddy is the small boy in the picture.)

Next: The Son...