Here’s another remembrance from our early days in the church.
We had continued to attend church in Sunbury, PA for maybe a year. At some point there was talk about creating a branch of the church in our little home town of Berwick, PA. Obviously, as an eight-year-old I was not really aware of what was going on, but I do remember our parents discussing this idea. After we made the switch I later remember the stories of what had happened.
Apparently, church leaders went to many different buildings where there was space for rent. Place after place turned them down. Eventually they were accepted by an unlikely person. I understood his name to be Nicholas Piazza. He was the local justice of the peace and had a small building used for court hearings. I remember him also being depicted as somehow involved with the local Italian mafia. That may be overstated, but the connection may be somewhat true. My uncle was a town cop in those days and I remember one or two stories at family events that would seem to support the idea. I remember our little branch was no more than maybe five or six families and a few single adults. Two of the families were related; Schmidts and Smethers. We were all locals. I don't remember any Utah members coming into the congregation at that point, though that changed when we made the move to a later building the church actually owned.
Recounting those days in later years, Mom and Dad told stories of needing to go into the building early on Sunday morning to clean out cigarette ashtrays and the like. I have only vague recollections of that, and it may be memories resulting more from the stories than actual events. I do remember sacrament in the courtroom, and classes in a corner of one of the hallways near a coat rack. I also remember vividly the neighborhood. Some years later I attended Berwick Jr. High that was just a few blocks away from it, up a hill on West 3rd St. I seem to remember a laundry mat across a parking lot and a hoagie shop around the corner that was tempting on a Sunday since I really liked the hoagies there. Eating out was a rarity in those days. This was long before any chain sub shops existed, at least in that area. At any rate, it always smelled good whenever we passed the sub shop. The Susquehanna River was only a few walkable blocks away, but we never made the stroll on a Sunday.
We had continued to attend church in Sunbury, PA for maybe a year. At some point there was talk about creating a branch of the church in our little home town of Berwick, PA. Obviously, as an eight-year-old I was not really aware of what was going on, but I do remember our parents discussing this idea. After we made the switch I later remember the stories of what had happened.
Apparently, church leaders went to many different buildings where there was space for rent. Place after place turned them down. Eventually they were accepted by an unlikely person. I understood his name to be Nicholas Piazza. He was the local justice of the peace and had a small building used for court hearings. I remember him also being depicted as somehow involved with the local Italian mafia. That may be overstated, but the connection may be somewhat true. My uncle was a town cop in those days and I remember one or two stories at family events that would seem to support the idea. I remember our little branch was no more than maybe five or six families and a few single adults. Two of the families were related; Schmidts and Smethers. We were all locals. I don't remember any Utah members coming into the congregation at that point, though that changed when we made the move to a later building the church actually owned.
Recounting those days in later years, Mom and Dad told stories of needing to go into the building early on Sunday morning to clean out cigarette ashtrays and the like. I have only vague recollections of that, and it may be memories resulting more from the stories than actual events. I do remember sacrament in the courtroom, and classes in a corner of one of the hallways near a coat rack. I also remember vividly the neighborhood. Some years later I attended Berwick Jr. High that was just a few blocks away from it, up a hill on West 3rd St. I seem to remember a laundry mat across a parking lot and a hoagie shop around the corner that was tempting on a Sunday since I really liked the hoagies there. Eating out was a rarity in those days. This was long before any chain sub shops existed, at least in that area. At any rate, it always smelled good whenever we passed the sub shop. The Susquehanna River was only a few walkable blocks away, but we never made the stroll on a Sunday.
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