Article published in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Wed., Oct. 26, 2011

1. Storytelling: Difficulties in Greece resulted in reunion on Pittsburgh Street
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
By Marion Constantinides
When my mother, Eugenia Pagonis, arrived in New York harbor in 1947, she
left behind a life disrupted by the Great Depression, World War II and civil
war. Ahead of her lay a new life in Pittsburgh.
She was born in the town of Kardamyla on the island of Chios, Greece. Chios
was near two smaller islands, Psara and Inoussa. Residents of those islands
rode ferries or boats to Hora, the capital of Chios, to shop, visit friends and
relatives or attend school.
In the 1930s, my mother went to live with a sister who was a high school
teacher in Hora. They became friends with Christina Kontos and her family,
who often took the ferry from Inoussa.
Visits were filled with gossip, shared meals and knitting, embroidering and
crocheting linens for the hope chests of single women. They read the grounds
left in the bottom of a cup of Greek coffee, which they consumed with
homemade pastry. Coffee grounds foretold of future marriages, the birth of
children, inheriting a fortune or the coming of a tall, dark stranger.
On Oct. 28, 1940, the Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini, declared war on
Greece. The poorly equipped Greek army fought bravely, compelling Hitler's
German army to invade on April 6, 1941.

2. Many Chians, thanks to the ships and boats of the wealthy, escaped to the
island of Cyprus, a British colony. Christina and her family were among those
who escaped, living the remaining years of the war on Cyprus.
My mother and her remaining family stayed in Chios, and she never saw
Christina after that. Food was scarce for those who stayed behind and there was
no mail service. Greece was eventually liberated by the Allies, but civil war
broke out between communist guerrillas and the Greek army.
Many Greeks fled their homeland after 1945. Well before that, some moved to
Pittsburgh to paint the smokestacks of Andrew Carnegie's steel mills, and their
friends and relatives followed them to the land of opportunity. Immigrants
forged new friendships and family ties in postwar, prosperous America.
My mother had a special reason for leaving Chios: her siblings in Pittsburgh
had arranged a marriage for her with a Greek Cypriot. Eugenia Pagonis married
Andreas Savas Constantinides on March 7, 1948, at St. Nicholas Greek
Orthodox Church in Pittsburgh. (Sometimes, the coffee grounds told the truth.)
After I was born, we moved to South Oakland. The neighborhood was a
melting pot of ethnic and racial groups, a community with block parties and
church fairs.
My mother threw herself into the Greek-American community and became the
treasurer of the Kardamylian Sisterhood. She was surrounded by Greek
Orthodox churches, Greek-owned businesses and social organizations.
One day, my mother and I were walking down one of our neighborhood streets.
I was 5 years old. My mother started to stare at the woman walking toward her
from the opposite direction. She knew her! It was her friend, Christina, holding
the hand of her youngest son, George, while pregnant with her fourth child.
They hadn't seen each other for 10 years and neither one knew that the other
was living in South Oakland, too. Their homes were separated by only a few
blocks.
Their friendship was renewed. Visits were filled with gossip, shared meals and
knitting, embroidering and crocheting linens for their children. They read the

3. grounds left in the bottom of a cup of Greek coffee, once more consumed with
homemade pastry.
When Christina's baby, Jean, was born the following January, my parents and I
became Jean's godparents. I became lifelong friends with Jean and her siblings:
Mary, Mike and George. Her brothers taught me how to play poker.
Later, Christina and her family moved to Dormont and my family moved to
Brooklyn in New York. When we returned to Pittsburgh, the friendships
resumed.
My father bought Jean her first pair of blue jeans and took her brothers to the
wrestling matches at the Civic Arena. I bought her her first pair of clogs and
took her to see "Yellow Submarine."
We grew up and married. Our parents passed away, but we're still friends and
our children are friends ... all thanks to a ferry ride in the last century.
Marion Constantinides is a Squirrel Hill writer and artist
(myrofora@comcast.net).
.