I am not accustomed to this format of communication, but it appears these things get viewed and, well, I have a specific mission. Strange, I know, but as my own father's life is fading I am interested in all things "RITOLA." That's right- Ritola...as in they come from Finland and are hard working wonderful people and I don't know any relatives besides my own siblings who are Ritola's.
My father was born in North Dakota in 1924. His family was very poor and suffered many hardships. His parents had to lie about his age during the depression so that he could be provided for in one of Roosevelt's work camps. He jumped frieghts in his later teens "to see the country," and was in WWII at Normandy. He was injured and returned the USA where he decided to use his GI grant money to become an educated mechanic in Chicago, IL at ITT. He met my mom, they fell in love, and three months later they were married and traveling to North Dakota to live. That did not last very long before they moved back to Illinois...Danville Illinois to be exact. Their first born was born in North Dakota but when they were living in Danville he was diagnosed with Ewings Carcoma-this is a cancer that is still not curable. My parents, Ray and Jean, moved back to Chicago area-Actually it was Riverdale, Illinois-so they could be closer to better medical support. Mickey, the first born, died June 20, 1954-he was not quite four years old. The next oldest, Phil, had been born April 12, 1954 and was a very small baby at the time of Mickey's death. Somehow my parents got through it-but how-only God knows. My father, who had been a non-practicing lutheran, made the decision to be come Catholic and to receive the sacraments...this was a good thing. For years, however, he would leave the room whenever Mickey's name came up in conversation.
Within the next six years three more children would be born. My dad would come home from working and be met at the door by all four of us-"dirty Daddy's home!!" would be the chant. Once he showered he would lay down on the floor in the livingroom and all four of us would pounce. He'd throw us onto the couch or hold us up in the air. He was strong and smiled all the time and we knew we were loved. During my early childhood Dad had to pick up two or three jobs to pay the bills. He never complained and always did things that my mother would ask. He remodeled the house with cabinetry-took down walls-made big holes in the wall to put in windows...not to mention he was the block mechanic. Anyone in the neighborhood could call on him day or night and he would fix their cars. He was the MaGuiver of the automobile-can't afford, find a part-no problem-he would actually create a replacement that would work as well if not better than the one that needed to be fixed. The nextdoor neighbor had a greasepit in his garage and that is where you could find most of the husbands on the weekend or in an evening-working on cars and maybe having a beer or two. Dad rarely over-indulged but did enjoy the company of his peers. He was and is very quiet so anything he may have contributed to those 'men only' gatherings was probably important or hysterical.
Anyway-as I originally said, I am looking for possible relatives out there with the name Ritola. He is Raymond William Ritola and his father's name was William Ritola. His grandfather was August Ritola and they lived in North Dakota not too far from Gackle. My father's two living sisters still live in that area.
Well, this is an experiment anyway. I am curious to see what happens or if anyone even reads this. So long for now...
Mares....RITOLA_USA
