My Turn: Grandma was my guardian angel, helping "Pippin" dream come true

I adored my grandmother. She was the kindest, most loving person I have ever known.

My grandparents, Giovanni and Annunziata Matera — or John and Nancy, which were their Americanized names — followed their relatives Zia Dora and Uncle Joe to America from Italy in the 1910s. At that time, mostly everyone came in on a ship entering through Ellis Island. It must have been a very long and treacherous journey for these courageous souls, but I believe they found it was worth it.

Shortly after they arrived the United States, John was called back to serve in the Italian army in World War I. Nancy waited for him in this strange, new place for four long years. When he returned they would finally marry and start a family in what became their beloved home, Bensonhurst.

A great memory of my childhood was visiting Brooklyn on Sundays and, of course, the fantastic dinners. My grandfather, who was always as thin as a pin, would consume what seemed to be a mound of spaghetti as high as the sky — and never gained a pound! Or at least it seemed that way when I was a kid. He also had smoked cigarettes since he was 15 and lived to be 90. I believe his longevity was due to all that healthy macaroni.

Grandma had a saint’s patience in that household. My Uncle Enrico, named after the great Caruso and called Uncle Henry, lived with Grandma and Grandpa. He had been in World War II, but had a "cushy job" as a quartermaster in the Aleutian Islands. Most of the photos of him during the war showed him playing baseball with the other guys in his unit.

Grandpa had quite a different experience in the service. Although he never spoke about it, he had been in the thick of battle. He not only became partially deaf from the loud explosions he endured, but it was said Grandpa was somewhat “shellshocked,” what we now refer to as combat-related, post-traumatic stress disorder. He and Uncle Henry would often butt heads, and poor Grandma assumed the role of peacemaker with the two stubborn men. I admired how calm and gentle she was, even when World War III was going on with the men she loved.

In my “first life” — in my 20s — I was a trained dancer-singer, performing professionally in musical theater. It was at that time, in the late 1980s, that Grandma died of kidney failure. And it was in April, the thick of the audition season; touring companies and summer stock were gearing up. There was an audition for the national tour of "Pippin," with Bob Fosse overseeing and Ben Vereen starring. This would have been my dream job since I was obsessed with all things Fosse.

But Grandma’s wake and funeral were planned for the week of the audition. I didn't have to think twice about where I would be that week. Saying goodbye to my beautiful grandmother was the only choice for me, of course — and being with Mom and the family was the most important thing in my life at that moment.

A few weeks after the funeral, I was ready to get back into the audition routine. As I was scouring the pages of Backstage, I saw an audition listed for "Pippin." I checked the date of the paper, thinking it must be an old edition; but it was the latest issue! This was surreal: a second shot at my beloved show. I went to the audition with an estimated 300 dancers for about 12 roles. After many nerve-wracking callbacks — I got the job!

An amazing turn of events: a missed audition, a second chance, then landing my dream job. Mom said I could thank Grandma for looking out for me and getting that second shot. To this day, it is a great comfort knowing sweet Grandma has got my back. 

Jane Lohmann

Smithtown