Many people would walk in the procession and there were bands playing music. My mother had a favorite saint, which was Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Every year on July 16th , the feast day of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, my mother had the florist make a big basket of white flowers. This basket would be carried, in the procession, by a strong teen-age girl. Two younger girls, dressed in white, would hold two white ribbons, which were attached to each side of the basket of flowers. Carrying the basket and holding the ribbons was considered an honor and was sought after by many of the little girls. I, of course, being my Mom's daughter, held one ribbon. Mom would usually ask one of my cousins to hold the other ribbon. Many times there were other little girls, also dressed in white, waiting for an opportunity to hold the ribbon if one of the ribbon holders got tired or was exhausted from the heat of the summer day.

We would walk for hours in this procession. People who lived along the route, would come out and give us a drink of water whenever the procession paused. Interspersed throughout the procession were two bands that played music. One was the Valeriani band, which was comprised mostly of older men, and the other was the Mucci Post Band, mostly teen-age boys. There was a good-looking, blond, young boy playing the saxophone in the Mucci Post Band. I did not know him then, but many years later, he would become my husband. His name was John Pontillo.

In the procession, most of the mothers walked behind the saint statue. Some of the women did not wear shoes; their stocking feet would be all blistered because of the hot surface of the streets. They would pray the rosary as they walked. This was their personal sacrifice offered to the Blessed Mother for favors they had received. During the war, their numbers increased because many of the women had sons in the armed services and they would use this occasion to implore the Blessed Mother to watch over their sons.

The saint statue was carried by a group of men that would constantly change because some of them were old and would tire easily. But none of these men wanted to give up an opportunity to show their dedication to the Blessed Mother. The saint statue would stop from time to time so people could pin money on a ribbon sash, which appeared on the front of the saint statue; it was laden with money. The procession lasted for about three hours. These processions were special to our parents because they kept alive the memories of their homeland.

From Growing Up in Camden: Daughter of Immigrants
by Inez Pontillo

It was now time for me to receive my First Holy Communion. Pop had waited eight years for an opportunity to have a big party. Remember when I told you earlier that he postponed my baptism because he was unable to afford a party for me. Well, they had saved and saved for a big party for my First Holy Communion and the time was now.

My Aunts and their families had arrived from Brooklyn and Philadelphia. My other aunts and my mom's friends were available to help, too. Pop had rented the Union of Brotherly Hall for the occasion. A plan was put into action.

On the day before the big event, I went with my mother to buy chickens. You see, in those days, chickens were bought live. We went to the chicken store and Mom selected about eight live chickens. Jimmy, the chicken man, put them in crates, then loaded the crates in his flatbed truck. Jimmy, Mom and I sat in the front seat of the truck. Jimmy drove my mom and me home. As we were going into my street, all the chickens were cackling in the back of the truck. Many of the children, playing in the street, approached the truck to see the spectacle of the cackling chickens.
I was in my glory. For a brief moment in time, I was important. I was at the front of the cackling chicken brigade. The chickens were making so much noise, that it was impossible to hear anything else. I guess, like Sebastian the crab in The Little Mermaid, they knew what was going to happen to them.

My aunts and Mom's friends cooked the big meal for the next day. They worked deep into the night to get it ready. Remember, although we had graduated from a window box to an icebox, we still did not own a refrigerator and food could not be frozen. We had an iceman who delivered ice to our house several times a week and this ice was put into an icebox to keep food from spoiling.

The next day, all of my cousins and aunts came to church to see me receive the Holy Eucharist. I was so proud and so happy. After church, we all went to the hall for the party. Many of our Compare and Comare were there with their children. It seems like there were so many people. Long tables had been set in the room. Three musicians were playing their guitar, mandolin and accordion. I even remember their names. Joe Mignogna, Sam Mastrangelo and Pat Giambrone. The festivities had begun!

It was an unforgettable occasion and Pop would have to wait a long time before we had another such grand party. The next big event would be my wedding reception many years later.

From Growing Up in Camden: Daughter of Immigrants
by Inez Pontillo