by Robert Dugoni

We all have the ability, to one degree or another. It is innate—the ability to tell stories.  

Some of my favorite childhood memories are of the Saturday afternoon when my nonnie would drive down the peninsula from San Francisco, often accompanied by one of her lady friends, (she had been widowed at a young age). Nonnie always brought us Italian sour dough bread, Salami, Coppa, Mortadella, and cheese. My nine brothers and sisters and I loved the food, but what we really craved were the stories of our father as a boy.

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