Steve's Genealogy Blog

My mother, Jane A. Niedzialkowski Danko, was buried on 19 April 1980 in St. Francis Shrine – A, Row D, Grave 8 at Our Lady of Angels Cemetery in Albany, New York.

Jane A. Danko Interment at Our Lady of Angels Cemetery

SOURCE: Jane A. Danko Interment at Our Lady of Angels Cemetery. Photographer Unknown. Photographed 19 April 1980.

Grave of Jane A. Danko, Our Lady of Angels Cemetery

SOURCE: Grave of Jane A. Danko. Photographed by Stephen J. Danko. Date of photograph unknown.

The stone reads:

DANKO

SORROW IS NOT FOREVER.
LOVE IS.

FRANCIS J . Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  JANE A.
1924-                           1922-1980

Copyright © 2007 by Stephen J. Danko

My father was offered a position as Training Station Manger for Mobil Oil Corporation and he began to work long hours. As part of his responsibilities he had to train employees, pump gas, repair cars, and keep the books. My mother finally convinced him to let her keep the books (for no pay), something she could do at home while my sisters and I were at school. Eventually, Mobil Oil Corporation offered her a salary for the work she had already been doing for years.

Steve Danko’s High School Graduation

Steve Danko and Jane (Niedzialkowski) Danko in the Living Room on South Allen Street, Albany, New York – June 1973

SOURCE: Steve Danko’s High School Graduation. Photographed by Francis J. Danko, June 1973.

As a bookkeeper, my mother excelled. She had an extraordinary sense of detail and precision, a sense that extended to her housekeeping. Growing up, I remember that the house was always clean and neat (with the possible exception of my bedroom, but that’s not my mother’s fault) and the yard was always manicured.

When I was in third grade, I awoke one morning to find that I was late for school. I rushed to tell my mother that I was late, and found that she wasn’t in the house. My Aunt Helen was there instead, and she told me that my mother had been rushed to the hospital during the night.

I learned that my mother had developed a bleeding ulcer and required a spleenectomy, duodectomy, and surgery to control the bleeding. After surgery, her stitches repeatedly broke and her doctors finally had to stitch her together with wire. My mother nearly lost her life, but she told my father that she couldn’t die and leave their children without a mother. My mother finally returned home in the spring of 1964, after spending three months in the hospital.

My parents would not allow us to have a pet other than goldfish and turtles. My mother said that she didn’t want to be the one to have to take care of a cat or dog (although, to be honest, she ended up being the one who took care of the goldfish and turtles, anyway). On one clear and sunny day, as my mother was hanging the laundry to dry on the clothesline that extended from the back porch and over the yard, a scrawny black cat jumped up on the porch railing and scared my mother half to death. The cat seemed friendly enough and my mother took pity on it for being so skinny and hungry, and so she fed it some tuna.

The cat decided to stay. We named him Smokey, for the reason that he seemed to respond to that name. My parents, though, were still insistent that our family would not have a cat. Without telling my sisters or me, they bundled the cat into the car, drove many miles away from our house and let the cat out of the car in Delmar, just outside of Albany. When my sisters and I arrived home from school and asked where the cat was, our parents told us that the cat had probably just decided to leave.

A few days later, while my mother was hanging the laundry, Smokey jumped up on the porch railing, begging for his dinner . With that, it was clear that Smokey had adopted my mother and was determined to work his way into her heart. He was to be the first in a long line of strays my mother took in, nursed back to health, and bought cat toys for them to play with.

My mother’s favorite cat game was to open the bottom drawer of her desk and say “Show me!” to the cat, whereupon the cat would come over to the drawer and begin pawing at a roll of adding machine tape she kept there. My mother would crumple a strip of adding machine tape in a ball and toss it across the room. The cat would chase the paper ball, grab it in its teeth, and bring it back to her.

Copyright © 2007 by Stephen J. Danko

When the United States entered World War II, all three of my maternal uncles joined the war effort: my mother’s older brother Ray entered the US Coast Guard, her younger brother Fred entered the US Naval Armed Guard, and her youngest brother Henry entered the US Army. All three survived the war.

My grandfather obtained a position as a mechanic with Worcester Pressed Steel and my grandmother obtained employment cleaning rooms at the Bancroft Hotel. On 24 July 1943, with the incomes from their new positions, they were able to buy a house on Barnes Avenue in Worcester, the house in which they would spend the rest of their lives.

Frank Danko and Jane Niedzialkowski – 15 Feb 1947

SOURCE: Frank Danko and Jane Niedzialkowski. Photographer unknown. Photographed 15 Feb 1947.

On 22 May 1947 (just a few months after the above photograph was taken) my mother married Frank Danko, himself a World War II veteran who served in the US Naval Armed Guard. My mother wore a white silk gown and carried a bouquet of calla lilies. All her life she treasured her engagement ring, a tiny diamond made to appear larger in an illusion setting.

A few years later, my parents moved to Albany, New York with the promises of better jobs and a better life.

Several of my father’s brothers and sisters had previously moved to Albany, and so my parents were not completely alone there. My father began to work for his brother John who owned a Mobil Service Station in Albany, and my mother obtained employment with The Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company (A&P) where she worked as a shopper. She would visit local A&P Grocery Stores, buy a specified list of items, and verify that the correct prices were charged at the register.

My parents lived in apartments on New Scotland Avenue and on Russell Road. Eventually they moved to 783 Park Avenue, a two family home owned by my father’s brother John. My older sister was born when our family lived on Russell Road, and my younger sister and I were born when the family lived on Park Avenue.

By the time I was born, my mother no longer worked outside the house. Money was tight, although it never seemed that we were lacking for any necessities of life.

My older sister came down with the measles on 29 May 1959. I, too, caught the measles on 10 June 1959, and finally my younger sister developed symptoms on 12 June 1959. I remember clearly the day my mother diagnosed me. It was a warm June day and I watched as my cousins and the neighborhood children splashed around in a wading pool in our backyard. My cousin Mary saw me through the window in my bedroom and called to me to come outside. I told Mary that my mother wouldn’t let me go outside because I had the measles. I’m not sure cousin Mary believed me.

On 09 May 1961, my sisters and I were admitted to the hospital to have our tonsils and adenoids removed. I imagine this was the first time since our births that my parents ever spent a night without us. A few months later, my parents bought a flat at 43 South Allen Street, a few blocks from the house in which we had lived on Park Avenue.

On 07 November 1961, just months after we moved into the new house, my younger sister contracted the mumps. Neither my older sister nor I developed symptoms despite our close contact with our younger sibling. A month later, on 12 December 1961, I came down with Chicken Pox. My two sisters followed suit two weeks later, on Christmas Day. The fact that my mother kept impeccable records of our health history is the only reason I know the dates on which my sisters and I developed the measles, mumps, and chicken pox.

Copyright © 2007 by Stephen J. Danko