These Old Doorknobs

When you look at the doorknobs in the picture above, all you probably see are a couple of old doorknobs. To me, they represent my Mother’s family’s history and have lots of stories to tell. They used to be on the house that my Grandpa built and my Mother was born in. The crystal knob sat proudly on the family’s front door and the other was attached to an interior door.

My Grandpa Frank came here from Italy as a young man in the early 1900’s. Shortly after his arrival, more of his family came to American, and then my Grandma followed. They married in Rhode Island, built a home and had six kids, three boys, and three girls. My Mother was the baby and the only one born in the house.

These doorknobs saw the birth of my Mother and a family goes through ups and downs during the depression. They saw my Grandpa start a successful landscaping business and beautiful gardens that surrounded the house. The crystal knob sat steady on the front door while my Grandpa sat on the front porch with his cup of coffee and greeted his neighbors every morning. With a smile on his face he would say, “Good morning Mr. or Mrs. ……” and rattled off something in Italian. The neighbor thought he said their name in Italian but in reality my Grandma was calling them a “fish face” or “dumb ass”. That was my Grandpa.

The doorknobs were there when my Dad came over to court my Mother. They watched as my Dad kept a low profile during dinner because there was lots of shouting in Italian and the arms were flying everywhere. Later he found out that they were just talking about the business and their day. One by one each child left and the second floor was turned into an apartment for family. The knobs were there when my Grandma was diagnosed with cancer and died a few years later. They saw my Grandpa go through depression, move upstairs and not socializing with anyone.

When I was two, my Father was stationed in Germany. While my Mother, siblings and I were waiting to join him, we stayed at my Grandparents house. The doorknobs were still on the house when this little two year old decided to climb the narrow stairs up to the second floor. When I got to the final step, I was greeted by my Grandpa sitting on a chair. He never uttered a word but scared me anyway. While running down the stairs, I fell and broke my collar bone. Shortly after we arrived in Germany, my Grandpa died from what I was told was “a broken heart”.

Years later the house was remodeled. Those old doorknobs were removed and replaced by more updated knobs. They were placed in the dusty old basement on a shelf, until I rescued them in 2005. My cousin and I went down in the basement and found all kinds of old antique items that my Grandpa used. My Uncle Joe told us that we could grab anything we wanted and I took several items including those old doorknobs and the keys in the picture below that my Grandpa always carried around. I know it may sound silly to some because they are old doorknobs and keys, but to me it represents many stories about the history of my Mother’s family. They now sit proudly on a shelf in my house next to photos of my Grandparents and other old antiques from my two Uncles that both passed away in 2005.

In 2005, when I was in that old dusty basement and climbed those narrow stairs I once fell down, I could feel the spirits of my Grandparents, my Uncles and Aunts that had since passed and once lived in that house. I was once told by my cousin that there have been reports of some hearing unseen voices and footsteps, seeing objects move on their own, and apparitions of my grandparents that appear now and then.

Are they just old doorknobs and keys or much more?

~Julie~