Louis Fakelis
At age 20, Louis Fakelis – my maternal grandfather born in Pispilounta, Chios – joined the Greek army to fight in a civil war. During the war, he wore a uniform two sizes too big, and at one point slept against a tree stump all night, only to find out that the “stump” was a corpse in the morning. After being injured in a battle, Louis was rescued by a soldier named Constantine, only to see that man shot and killed seconds after he pulled my grandfather to safety.
With his army service over, he joined the Merchant Marines and circumnavigated the globe. Initially docking in New Orleans in 1952, his ship sailed up the coast to New York. While docked in New York City, he heard from the notorious Greek grapevine that there was a “nice Greek girl” living in Canton, Ohio whom he should marry. After eating nothing but ice cream for three days straight – he didn’t speak English and didn’t know how to ask for anything else – and wandering the streets of New York, he bought a bus ticket, hopped on a bus and off to Ohio he went. There he met and married that “nice Greek girl” – my maternal grandmother Clara – and settled in Ohio.
It would be nearly fifty years until Louis would return to his childhood home in Chios since coming to America. He was proud of where he was from. He would say, “… when you say Chios, you say it with your hand over your heart,” and people believed him. Back in Chios, he took a sapling from one of the family fig trees and somehow got it back to Canton, where it still grows…
When Clara's father, Efthimios Bumes, landed on Ellis Island in 1911 at 16 years old, he was nearly marked with the dreaded white ‘X’ on his back. Not speaking the language and not knowing where he was headed or whom he was meeting, he was unable to answer any of the questions he was being asked. As luck would have it, a man from a nearby village in Arcadia recognized him and explained in English who Efthimios was and where he was going – which was to his uncle Peter Bakousis in Cleveland, Ohio.
In Cleveland, Efthimios was set up with a popcorn cart and took other odd jobs along the way, including one as a real (thought they only existed in old-time western movies) cowboy. Still a teenager, Efthimios finally made his way to Canton, Ohio and took a job as a shoe-shiner and then as a railroad worker, laying the vast amount of tracks needed. He was ready to settle in Ohio and make a life for himself. The only thing missing was a wife.
Efthimios remembered a beautiful woman from his village back home and sent word asking for her to come to America and marry him. Although she didn’t want to go, her father Haralambos gave his word. In 1923, Athanasia Kypouros left her village in Vydiaki at 19, boarded a ship with other brides-to-be and travelled with the Red Cross to New York. Leaving her village that day was the last time she would ever see her family. She married Efthimios, had three daughters – Delma, Clara and Mary – and stayed in Canton for the rest of her life. Years later, at a different time, a different dock, Louis Fakelis was landing on the soils of New Orleans … eventually taking Clara as his wife.
The first year someone from my family tree set foot in America was 1907, when my great-grandfather, Peter (Spiros) Michalos – born in Arfara, Greece, 1888 – came through Ellis Island. Staying only for four years, he returned to Greece to join the cavalry during the Balkan War. It was there that he met and married Margaret Vaitsis – born in Athens, 1890. Her father, Anthony Vaitsis, was the chef for the King at the time. Together, Peter and Margaret travelled back to the U.S. in 1914 and settled in Canton, Ohio. Peter first worked as a night superintendent at Canton Enamel Works before deciding to become a barber – opening the Royal Barber Shop, which he maintained for 45 years. They had four children: Katherine, Frances, Anne and George – my paternal grandfather.
After graduating college and serving in the U.S. Navy, George met and married Olga Tender – my paternal grandmother. Olga’s father – Peter Tender, born in 1881 – first came to America from the village of Stemnitsa with his wife Christine, née Theophilis, born in Stemnitsa, 1896. In Alliance, Ohio – not too far from Canton – Peter opened a confectionery shop before jumping in on the thriving era of cinema and later opening the Tivoli theatre in Lorain, Ohio. The threatre was very much a family business. John, the only brother, managed the money while the sisters Lula, Xenia and Olga managed the concessions and took the tickets.
With my family’s roots now planted and spreading in Ohio, my family tried to acclimate themselves to their new American way of life, but still maintained a strong tie to their Greek culture and religion. Ball games were mixed with lamb roasting while hopscotch and hula hoop was played as the adults sang their Greek folk songs. Of course the church was a social center for everyone, and in 1958, as the Canton Greek population grew, so too did the need for a new church. Peter Michalos was one of the founders of St. Haralambos in Canton. Later, Peter’s son George, spearheaded the effort of cutting the old church in half – literally uprooting it – and moving it to a new location where they added an entire middle section to accommodate the growing community.
In turn, when my parents grew up, they raised us in the Greek culture, keeping the church a center of life. Consequently, we grew up knowing not to forget the past and grew into who we are because of where we came from. Sometimes I wonder, what went through my great-grandparents’ minds as they sailed through the vast Atlantic ocean to see New York rising on the horizon and first set foot on this soil? Where did they imagine all of it would lead?
Now, over 100 years since the first person in my family passed through the halls of Ellis Island to transplant their roots, I climb up to my Brooklyn rooftop, see the Statue of Liberty’s shining light cast a faint glow over Ellis Island, and know they worked hard and did what needed to be done so that I could be here. Through their tears and joy, their struggles and advances, they fought and lived for the betterment of the next generation.
I don’t know if Brooklyn is where I’ll stay, but when I do find that place for me, I’ll go back to Ohio, clip a sapling from that same fig tree my grandfather brought from Chios and plant its roots firmly in the new ground.
