How my Mom and Dad met

The story has been embellished over the years but not by much

My dad, John R. Anania (RIP), was a brilliant man who joined the Peace Corps in the late 60s. His assignment was a small village on the outskirts of Bangalore (Bengaluru), India called Devanagari. The Peace Corps, being part of the US Government, made sure Dad had a ton of shelf stable foods, like peanut butter. My Dad refused to eat the stuff he was sent with and relished eating the local cuisine with the villagers. He loved Indian food and all it’s exotic spices. Growing up in the rust belt poor didn’t afford any exposure to fantastic foreign foods, especially in the 60s.

My mother, Iona G. Nazareth, was one of the highest paid models in southern India. She was up on the billboards around Bangalore advertising saris, butter, soap, you name it. As successful as she was, she still lived under her parents roof. In India, if you lived in your parents house, you obeyed them. End of story. So, my mom had chores and one of them was helping her uncle in his record store in town, cleaning up and operating the cash register.

Mom and Dad in West Virginia - 1969

Now, peanut butter was relatively new in India in the 60s, especially in small towns and rural areas. It was also a pretty hot commodity in the cities. My Dad, a savvy trader his whole life, figured out he could trade the copious amounts of peanut butter for local foods, goods, and even some services, like drawing in villagers and farmers from all locations to be trained how to grow bigger chickens (Dad’s specialty at the time). One thing he did do was trade peanut butter at the record store where Mom worked. For almost six months, however, they never crossed paths. He would see Mom on all the billboards on his way into town and told me how beautiful he thought she was.

Mom and Me in Ghana - 1974

One day, on a trip into town for some records, he spotted Mom straightening out some record bins and he was almost instantly head over heels. That’s usually the point in the story my dad would put his hand on my shoulder and would say, “I knew then I wasn’t leaving India without your mother!”

He turned his charm up to maximum and tried to woo her right there in the store. To be fair, my dad was very handsome and charming. Mom didn’t bite, at least outwardly. My dad didn’t quit easily and he followed her home, trying to keep her attention. She got home, a gated home along Brigade Road. He waited outside for six hours until my maternal great grandfather drove him off. Dad was still undeterred and came back the next day, and the next, and the next until my great grandfather asked him,

“What the hell do you want, boy?”

My dad asked to call on Iona for a walk around the neighborhood. My great grandfather said,

“Walk? You want to walk? Walk here, up and down. Six o’clock, get out!”

Of course Dad did not comply very well and in modern times, he would’ve been arrested for stalking her. Eventually, his persistence paid off and he was granted a chaperoned conversation in the courtyard of the house. My dad asked mom out to the movies. Great Grandad said,

“Movies? Good idea. We will all go with you.”

Sure enough, my mom and dad, her parents, grandparents, and all the uncles, aunts, and servants that were available went to the movies. Great Grandad place my dad on one side of the row and my mom on the other side with everyone else in the middle. That went on for a year and in 1969, they were married.

Mom and Dad celebrating the New Year in India - 1968

They stayed married for 51 years until he passed in 2020. Miss you, Dad.

Dad and me on the beach in Ghana - 1974