Panger Street

Panger Street

Growing up, I come from a very Italian family. Always screaming and yelling in the most
loving way. My great grandfather was proud to say he was a “one hundred percenter”, meaning
he had all Italian blood. Of course, the food is always good and the homemade wine seemed to
top things off pretty well. But it wasn’t just the food and the atmosphere my grandfather was
proud of. He made a legacy out of the person he didn’t intend to become. He was just who he
was, and with that, he set hard footsteps to follow.

My grandfather adored my grandmother more than anything and always put her
happiness before his. Although she was quite the spitfire, she was always his first priority. Not
only did he fall in love with my grandma, but basketball. He coached many winning teams until
he finally decided to obtain his officiating license. From there, he played the part of a pizza shop
owner, husband, coach, railroad affiliate and grandfather.

My grandfather loved my younger brother more than anything. And although that
connection wasn’t through me, I can still see the parts of my grandpa in my brother. Isaac, my
brother, spent every waking minute he could with grandpa. They shared so many common
interests, but the things they both loved the most were trains and basketball. That may sound
foolish, I always thought so too. But it’s something they shared, and something my brother still
loves. With that, I can still see my grandpa.

The train obsession began when my brother was very young. He would set up tracks all
around my grandparents house, and of course, they left them there. Probably tripping and
stubbing toes, but never moved. You could always catch them riding along the tracks in town in
grandpa’s old plymouth, trying to catch the nearest Ohio Central train or Wheeling and Lake
Erie coal cars. Curious if the last car had a marker on the back or how many cars there were
total. To this day, Isaac still rides his bike down to the tracks and looks for the trains.
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can catch him standing in front of our house (in his underwear),
looking down the long stretch of road to the end of the tracks.

Basketball has always been something that my family was very into. My grandfather was
inducted into the OHSAA Hall of Fame and to the National High School Sports Hall of Fame,
among his many accomplishments. But this wasn’t big to him. What others thought of him didn’t
matter. It was always what his God thought of who he was. Let me tell you, I know his God was
proud. He taught my brother to serve as an altar boy, to love those around him, to be kind, to
work hard, and to play. With those teachings, I still see in my brother what my grandfather
taught him.

Although the bond those two had wasn’t through me, I am forever grateful he taught him
to be who he is. I know Isaac would not be who he is if it wasn’t for his time spent with grandpa.
He inherited so many good qualities and most importanlty, a good heart. I’ll never be able to put
into words the man my grandfather was. You would have had to meet him one time, and that
could’ve told you everything you needed to know.  However at the least, I see him through Isaac, and that’s enough for me.

By Olivia