I always loved this story. As a little kid, I imagined she went off somewhere into the world and had another family. In my head, she married into an Italian family and I was somehow related to Madonna in a round about way. Yes, these are the daydreams of an eight-year-old living in New Hampshire. However, these days, I don’t think I’m related to Madonna. I think I’m related to Kate Middleton instead.
The second story, and the one that I love even more is about my great-grandmother, Mary, who dreamed of being a dancer. Mary is actually the only one of my ancestors born in the States who wasn’t born in either Massachusetts or New Hampshire – I’ve always found this strange. I assume it’s the diehard New Englander in me, that doesn’t care for this fact. Mary was actually born in Allentown, N.J. if, to quote my father, “memory serves.”
For a brief time she lived in Boston with some family members, and when things weren’t coming to fruition there with her dancing career, she decided to make the big move to New York City. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for, but she just knew she wanted to be a star.