Thanks For The Memories

The video is a series of still frames from film shot by Antoine "Bogie" Saraf in 1972-1973 and in 1975 at Grandpa Gannam's house on Hopkins Street in Savannah. The house is no longer there but memories of Grandpa, his chickens, his garden and the "bear" trees will always be there. Karam Gannam, better known as “Grandpa” By Anthony K. Gannam - May 20, 1985 There is a magnolia tree blooming near my driveway planted twelve springs ago with some dogwoods that bloom in my front yard. They were planted by my father as a testimonial to me of his love and his life. Let me tell you about this man, whom some of us never knew and others of us have forgotten - the Patriarch of this family gathered here today. More than a hundred years ago in Lebanon in a village called El-Amain just about three miles outside Sidon on a hillside called Ros Is Sharif Karum Geris Ghanim was born. [Based on maps and Jim Gannam, this is likely Alman El Chouf or El Shouf about 3 miles outside Sidon.] I remember his telling me that my grandmother and other women were picking cocoons off the Mulberry trees and placing them on racks in a building so that the birds would not eat the silkworm adults when they emerged. His mother went into labor. She was placed on the cocoon rack and the other women midwifed her, and my father was brought into the world. This was no ordinary event because he was no ordinary man. He was brought down the mountain side from the grove into the village and was later baptized in the village church that was built in the side of the hill and whose history went back over 1000 years. I have heard Grandpa tell a visitor about 20 years ago that his family history in the records of this old church goes back over 600 years. Compare this with some of the dates with which we are familiar. Lebanon had been under Ottoman Turkish rule for about 400 years and Christians were second class citizens during this time. The Jumblatt family who was of the Druze persuasion, were the land holders in my father's village. They prospered under the leadership of a sheik or Amir by the name of Usif Bike Jumblatt. His children and grandchildren are still leaders in the anti-Christian struggle in Lebanon today. There were strict rules about owning property and building houses. One such rule was if a person wanted to build a house, the door lintels had to be up before sunrise - an impossible task since these were built of hewn stone. Grandpa overcame this by going in the night with his stone masons and working until sunrise. When the Jumblatt circuit riders came by in the morning, the door frame was up. Of course, Grandpa was hauled before Usif Bike Jumblatt who also acted as a judge. When asked what he was doing on the land, he replied he was building a home for his mother. He was then asked if he had put up the door frame or lintels before sunrise and he said, "Yes." He was then told to go in peace and finish the house. This was the beginning of an uneasy respect for each other that helped my father and grandmother to survive. At age 18, he said he got typhoid fever. He was stricken while plowing in his field and became very weak and could not go home. He lay down in the furrow and covered himself with the warm earth and remained there. Whatever he had, settled in his left leg and I remember his bathing it every night with dichloride of mercury tablets and dressing it and always wearing white socks. Once while plowing around his house, his plow hit a flat stone. He began to dig and soon he was in an underground room full of old things. Lebanon was full of and rich with things of antiquity, old tombs and underground habitats. It is believed people lived underground to avoid invaders. The Turkish government heard about Grandpa's find and evicted him and his mother and cordoned off the land and the house. They dug up all the treasures and shipped them to Constantinople and wherever. It was a capital offense for a native to find a treasure and not report it, punishable by death or imprisonment. Grandpa was lucky. The find must have been priceless. At age 23, he told his mother he was going to America to seek his fortune and break free from the oppression they had lived under. He wanted to be free. He settled in Manchester, New Hampshire. The motto for the state of New Hampshire is "live free or die." He promised his mother that when he had enough money he would send for her. She gave him her blessing and in 1905 he came to America. On his stop in Marseilles, France, he bought himself a suit of American clothes. When he saw the statue of Liberty from the ship's deck, he went to his cabin, changed into his American suit, wrapped up his old clothes in a newspaper and tossed them overboard. He said, "Enough of the old. I am putting on the new. America is my country and I am here to stay." He had made a personal commitment of desire - something that is recognized even in theology. He had asked America to adopt him and in return he gave her infinitely much more - a large, patriotic, God fearing family whose talents are unlimited - like the riches of the Indies - like a pearl of great price. Although he is an American by adoption, he is Lebanese by birth, so to each of his children, their spouses and their heirs he gave a birthright of being Lebanese citizens. I like to think that when he went through customs at Ellis Island, his name was spelled Gannam. Some Gannams were spelled Ganem or Ghanim or Ghanem or Gannem or whatever. Ours was spelled Gannam. We are all related. I like Gannam. It is unique, symmetrical, proud, stands out, balanced. The name is pronounced GHANIM in Lebanese. It means: an arbor, a place of rest. It also means a handler of sheep: i.e., a sheep merchant. The word GHUNEEM means sheep. In Hebrew, it means, loosely, Hell. If you allow me this illusionary metaphor, Karam George Gannam was one Hell of a man! He settled in Manchester, New Hampshire in a Lebanese community, farmed, worked in shoe factories, clothing mills, ran a store, and worked in a foundry during World War I. He also bought and sold apples during apple season. He told me that during apple harvest he would rent a two horse wagon for $2.50 per day and go to Derry, New Hampshire to the apple orchards about five miles from Manchester. He would buy apples for 50 cents a barrel, take eight barrels a trip to Manchester and sell them to the produce houses for $2.50 a barrel. He would make two trips a day. He netted around $30.00 per day. He got a job as an apprentice in the foundry. He couldn't speak English. He became so good as a helper that when the war effort increased, he was recommended for a Master Moulder's job which he held until the war stopped and the foundry closed down. Whenever a war ends, it creates a recession or depression, because war industries close down and the soldiers come home. That is when he came South looking for a place to raise his family. He and my mother gathered a few of their possessions and their four children, got on the boat and landed at the Merchants and Miners' dock at River and Farm Street. Their four children were: Mary, who is now the matriarch of the Gannam family and who we are honoring today with this reunion; Anthony who is speaking to you; Nazer, who is now living in Fort Fairfield, Maine, George, who was a war casualty at the beginning of World War II, and Mike, who is the fifth child, was born in the South underneath the live oaks on Hopkins Street in the shanty we all lived in on the farm. He is the only Georgian among the children. The rest of us are Yankees by birth and Crackers by adoption and proud of it. Grandpa was Maronite Catholic but became Roman Catholic when he came South because there were no Maronite churches in Savannah. He was a very religious man. He had a deep and abiding faith in God and the Trinity and was devoted to the Virgin Mary. It was this kind of faith that helped the Maronites keep the Christian faith rooted in Lebanon and our little family from being routed off our farm by other Christians and agnostics. He just kept praying and taking his children and grandchildren to church until the neighbors began to realize that this "feriner" [foreigner] was also a Christian and his God was also their God. I don't know if it was his faith or his Lebanese hard headedness that gave him his tenacity and determination. It must have been both. I do know that his children inherited his hard headedness. He was a strict disciplinarian, but he loved his family with a jealous love. He told me he moved his family from the city with its influence so that he could raise his family up right. He stressed honesty and a good name and said a good name is better than money because you could always have a grub stake and men would respect you. He was a farmer first and you could safely say he was the "Johnnie Appleseed of Hopkins Street." All the people whose lives he touched would attest to that. He had a generous heart. Never would anyone visit but that they would take something with them when they left – plants, shrubs, trees, flowers, vegetables, whatever. He loved flowers and was surrounded by them. The family store had a hand painted marquee over the front and right in the middle was a bouquet of multicolored flowers, because his daughter wanted it that way. He raised a flag pole in honor of his son who was a war casualty. He watched over the son who ran the family store. He sent money to help his other son and youngest brother's family in Lebanon, and helped his nephew through school. His youngest can tell you of his love because he was close to him and shared his secrets and his plans. I guess if he had a coat of arms, it would probably be a big heart with a garden hoe across it, flanked by a bouquet of flowers and a fruit bearing tree with a cross at the crest. His family is like the flowers on the marquee - varied, fragrant, beautiful, many splendored with many talents like a diamond in the sun with each facet giving off its own light. Each a separate unit bound to each other by unity and love and heritage – a hand that beats a royal flush. As he grew old and feeble and almost blind, he would do things that would astound me. A few Sundays ago in back of the Church was a stack of Catholic Family Register newspapers. A mailing label on them was addressed to Sacred Heart of Jesus Church. We had been going there for over 50 years. When I would drive him up Henry Street and turn left on Bull Street towards Church, he would see the twin steeples in the evening sun and would exclaim with reverence, "Sicrit Heart of Jesus." How did he know? I only knew it as Sacred Heart Church! Rest well, Grandpa! Your magnolia and dogwoods are in full bloom and all is well! NOTE: Written by Anthony Karam Gannam for the first Gannam family reunion held at Fort Screven on Tybee Island in June 1985 in memory of Grandpa and in honor of his daughter Mary Hamamie Gannam's 75th birthday.

Audio recorded in July 1978 at Grandpa Karam George Gannam's Birthday Party in Savannah, Georgia. The video is a series of still frames from film shot by Antoine "Bogie" Saraf in 1972-1973 and in 1975 at Grandpa Gannam's house on Hopkins Street in Savannah. The house is no longer there but memories of Grandpa, his chickens, his garden and the "bear" trees will always be there. Karam Gannam, better known as “Grandpa” By Anthony K. Gannam - May 20, 1985 There is a magnolia tree blooming near my driveway planted twelve springs ago with some dogwoods that bloom in my front yard. They were planted by my father as a testimonial to me of his love and his life. Let me tell you about this man, whom some of us never knew and others of us have forgotten - the Patriarch of this family gathered here today. More than a hundred years ago in Lebanon in a village called El-Amain just about three miles outside Sidon on a hillside called Ros Is Sharif Karum Geris Ghanim was born. [Based on maps and Jim Gannam, this is likely Alman El Chouf or El Shouf about 3 miles outside Sidon.] I remember his telling me that my grandmother and other women were picking cocoons off the Mulberry trees and placing them on racks in a building so that the birds would not eat the silkworm adults when they emerged. His mother went into labor. She was placed on the cocoon rack and the other women midwifed her, and my father was brought into the world. This was no ordinary event because he was no ordinary man. He was brought down the mountain side from the grove into the village and was later baptized in the village church that was built in the side of the hill and whose history went back over 1000 years. I have heard Grandpa tell a visitor about 20 years ago that his family history in the records of this old church goes back over 600 years. Compare this with some of the dates with which we are familiar. Lebanon had been under Ottoman Turkish rule for about 400 years and Christians were second class citizens during this time. The Jumblatt family who was of the Druze persuasion, were the land holders in my father's village. They prospered under the leadership of a sheik or Amir by the name of Usif Bike Jumblatt. His children and grandchildren are still leaders in the anti-Christian struggle in Lebanon today. There were strict rules about owning property and building houses. One such rule was if a person wanted to build a house, the door lintels had to be up before sunrise - an impossible task since these were built of hewn stone. Grandpa overcame this by going in the night with his stone masons and working until sunrise. When the Jumblatt circuit riders came by in the morning, the door frame was up. Of course, Grandpa was hauled before Usif Bike Jumblatt who also acted as a judge. When asked what he was doing on the land, he replied he was building a home for his mother. He was then asked if he had put up the door frame or lintels before sunrise and he said, "Yes." He was then told to go in peace and finish the house. This was the beginning of an uneasy respect for each other that helped my father and grandmother to survive. At age 18, he said he got typhoid fever. He was stricken while plowing in his field and became very weak and could not go home. He lay down in the furrow and covered himself with the warm earth and remained there. Whatever he had, settled in his left leg and I remember his bathing it every night with dichloride of mercury tablets and dressing it and always wearing white socks. Once while plowing around his house, his plow hit a flat stone. He began to dig and soon he was in an underground room full of old things. Lebanon was full of and rich with things of antiquity, old tombs and underground habitats. It is believed people lived underground to avoid invaders. The Turkish government heard about Grandpa's find and evicted him and his mother and cordoned off the land and the house. They dug up all the treasures and shipped them to Constantinople and wherever. It was a capital offense for a native to find a treasure and not report it, punishable by death or imprisonment. Grandpa was lucky. The find must have been priceless. At age 23, he told his mother he was going to America to seek his fortune and break free from the oppression they had lived under. He wanted to be free. He settled in Manchester, New Hampshire. The motto for the state of New Hampshire is "live free or die." He promised his mother that when he had enough money he would send for her. She gave him her blessing and in 1905 he came to America. On his stop in Marseilles, France, he bought himself a suit of American clothes. When he saw the statue of Liberty from the ship's deck, he went to his cabin, changed into his American suit, wrapped up his old clothes in a newspaper and tossed them overboard. He said, "Enough of the old. I am putting on the new. America is my country and I am here to stay." He had made a personal commitment of desire - something that is recognized even in theology. He had asked America to adopt him and in return he gave her infinitely much more - a large, patriotic, God fearing family whose talents are unlimited - like the riches of the Indies - like a pearl of great price. Although he is an American by adoption, he is Lebanese by birth, so to each of his children, their spouses and their heirs he gave a birthright of being Lebanese citizens. I like to think that when he went through customs at Ellis Island, his name was spelled Gannam. Some Gannams were spelled Ganem or Ghanim or Ghanem or Gannem or whatever. Ours was spelled Gannam. We are all related. I like Gannam. It is unique, symmetrical, proud, stands out, balanced. The name is pronounced GHANIM in Lebanese. It means: an arbor, a place of rest. It also means a handler of sheep: i.e., a sheep merchant. The word GHUNEEM means sheep. In Hebrew, it means, loosely, Hell. If you allow me this illusionary metaphor, Karam George Gannam was one Hell of a man! He settled in Manchester, New Hampshire in a Lebanese community, farmed, worked in shoe factories, clothing mills, ran a store, and worked in a foundry during World War I. He also bought and sold apples during apple season. He told me that during apple harvest he would rent a two horse wagon for $2.50 per day and go to Derry, New Hampshire to the apple orchards about five miles from Manchester. He would buy apples for 50 cents a barrel, take eight barrels a trip to Manchester and sell them to the produce houses for $2.50 a barrel. He would make two trips a day. He netted around $30.00 per day. He got a job as an apprentice in the foundry. He couldn't speak English. He became so good as a helper that when the war effort increased, he was recommended for a Master Moulder's job which he held until the war stopped and the foundry closed down. Whenever a war ends, it creates a recession or depression, because war industries close down and the soldiers come home. That is when he came South looking for a place to raise his family. He and my mother gathered a few of their possessions and their four children, got on the boat and landed at the Merchants and Miners' dock at River and Farm Street. Their four children were: Mary, who is now the matriarch of the Gannam family and who we are honoring today with this reunion; Anthony who is speaking to you; Nazer, who is now living in Fort Fairfield, Maine, George, who was a war casualty at the beginning of World War II, and Mike, who is the fifth child, was born in the South underneath the live oaks on Hopkins Street in the shanty we all lived in on the farm. He is the only Georgian among the children. The rest of us are Yankees by birth and Crackers by adoption and proud of it. Grandpa was Maronite Catholic but became Roman Catholic when he came South because there were no Maronite churches in Savannah. He was a very religious man. He had a deep and abiding faith in God and the Trinity and was devoted to the Virgin Mary. It was this kind of faith that helped the Maronites keep the Christian faith rooted in Lebanon and our little family from being routed off our farm by other Christians and agnostics. He just kept praying and taking his children and grandchildren to church until the neighbors began to realize that this "feriner" [foreigner] was also a Christian and his God was also their God. I don't know if it was his faith or his Lebanese hard headedness that gave him his tenacity and determination. It must have been both. I do know that his children inherited his hard headedness. He was a strict disciplinarian, but he loved his family with a jealous love. He told me he moved his family from the city with its influence so that he could raise his family up right. He stressed honesty and a good name and said a good name is better than money because you could always have a grub stake and men would respect you. He was a farmer first and you could safely say he was the "Johnnie Appleseed of Hopkins Street." All the people whose lives he touched would attest to that. He had a generous heart. Never would anyone visit but that they would take something with them when they left – plants, shrubs, trees, flowers, vegetables, whatever. He loved flowers and was surrounded by them. The family store had a hand painted marquee over the front and right in the middle was a bouquet of multicolored flowers, because his daughter wanted it that way. He raised a flag pole in honor of his son who was a war casualty. He watched over the son who ran the family store. He sent money to help his other son and youngest brother's family in Lebanon, and helped his nephew through school. His youngest can tell you of his love because he was close to him and shared his secrets and his plans. I guess if he had a coat of arms, it would probably be a big heart with a garden hoe across it, flanked by a bouquet of flowers and a fruit bearing tree with a cross at the crest. His family is like the flowers on the marquee - varied, fragrant, beautiful, many splendored with many talents like a diamond in the sun with each facet giving off its own light. Each a separate unit bound to each other by unity and love and heritage – a hand that beats a royal flush. As he grew old and feeble and almost blind, he would do things that would astound me. A few Sundays ago in back of the Church was a stack of Catholic Family Register newspapers. A mailing label on them was addressed to Sacred Heart of Jesus Church. We had been going there for over 50 years. When I would drive him up Henry Street and turn left on Bull Street towards Church, he would see the twin steeples in the evening sun and would exclaim with reverence, "Sicrit Heart of Jesus." How did he know? I only knew it as Sacred Heart Church! Rest well, Grandpa! Your magnolia and dogwoods are in full bloom and all is well! NOTE: Written by Anthony Karam Gannam for the first Gannam family reunion held at Fort Screven on Tybee Island in June 1985 in memory of Grandpa and in honor of his daughter Mary Hamamie Gannam's 75th birthday.

Philip Saraf Art Show, First City Club, Savannah, Georgia, March 10, 1999. The video is not good but it was a momentous occasion as Philip had a wonderful art show at the prestigious First City Club in Savannah.

Well-known Savannah artist, Philip Saraf was interviewed by an art history student in November 1992 about his life and art. Philip was born in Savannah, Georgia in April 1930 to Mary Gannam and George A. Saraf. He died in Savannah in June 2016. Regarding several issues in the interview: Philip had recurring ear infections and his father did not believe in doctors and this led to him loosing his hearing. The family was not rich, but they always had enough to eat. They lived next door to Mary Gannam Saraf's father who had a small farm and later a small community grocery store. This is the tribute I wrote in a book of his Christmas cards at the time of his passing. Some of the Christmas cards mentioned are in this video. The book is available for purchase for $35. Contact me via this video comment section and I will arrange for shipment. Philip John Saraf, well-known Savannah artist and chef, beloved brother, uncle, cousin, mentor, friend, passed away peacefully June 9, 2016, surrounded by family and friends. Philip John Saraf, the oldest son of George Abdulkerim Saraf and Mary Gannam, was born April 23, 1930 in Savannah, Georgia. Philip lost his hearing at a very early age, so school was difficult for him. He graduated from Sacred Heart Catholic School and attended Benedictine High School for a short time, but left to attend vocational school where he trained to be a dental technician. Philip worked in dental labs in Atlanta, Albany and Savannah for 47 years. Philip painted from the heart and saw beauty in simple things. Many of his paintings are of shacks, sheds, and farms around Clyo in Effingham County and he often included chickens - a sign to him of happiness. His paintings grace the walls of family, friends and countless others who purchased his works at art festivals, county fairs and shows around the South over the past 50 years. Despite his declining health, Philip continued to paint and participate in local art shows and win awards until the end. In 2010, his painting entitled "Grandmother Comin' Home" was chosen to be part of the Treasures from the Telfair II exhibit in the Greer Gallery, and in April 2013, Philip's cherished painting of his friends basket maker Henry Burns and his wife Marie entitled "Country Gothic" won the People's Choice Award at the Landings Art Association Spring Art Show. Philip was a giver and generous to a fault. He loved to entertain people in his humble abode and feed them with the beauty of his paintings, his remarkable stories, and the epicurean delights he created from scratch in his kitchen. This was perhaps most evident at Christmas time. He proclaimed the birth of the Christ child in his beautiful Christmas cards and shared words of wisdom about life and the season. For many decades those cards included an invitation to visit during the Christmas holidays - to enjoy Philip's hospitality, holiday decorations and culinary delights. The memories of those visits and the Christmas cards themselves are treasured by many. Philip was a teacher and a mentor, always ready to share his love for painting, cooking and life with anyone who showed an eagerness to learn or listen. He was a deeply religious man, always thankful for the simple joys in life and the richness and beauty of God's creation. He was a kind and gentle soul and believed that every day was a gift from God. The world is a better place because he lived and we are better people for having known him. Kim Marie Fischer Peters - September 2016

Neil Joseph Fischer, Jr., received First Holy Communion in 1964 at St. James Catholic Church in Savannah, Georgia. Neil is seen in the living room of our house in Mayfair at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia, just across the street from St. James Catholic Church. Also seen in the film are Robert Anthony, Michael Steven and Kim Marie Fischer. We attended St. James Catholic School until we moved to Wilmington Island when I was going into fifth grade.

Kim and Neil Jr., in front of our house in Mayfair at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia. Mama (Mary Ann Saraf) walks into view with Robert in her arms. Neil and Kim play on the swings, sliding board and teeter totter. Then we go to Daffin Park and Mama takes over the camera so Daddy can get into the shot.

Easter 1956 in Savannah. First - Kim Marie Fischer in front of house on *Arlene Avenue in Savannah. Then in front of Grandma's house on Hopkins Street with Grandma Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher and Harold Beecher and Iris Beecher and Antoine Saraf "Bogie". Then at the Gildea house on Wilmington Island with Grandma Kate (Catherine Margaret Gildea Fischer), Chuckie, Bootsie and Frankie. Then back to a neighbors house on Arlene Avenue in Savannah. Also footage after Mary Ann had given birth to Neil Jr. as she is skinny again. Identified in film, Kim Marie Fischer (17 months), Catherine Margaret Gildea "Katie" Fischer, Mary Ann Saraf Fischer, Neil Joseph Fischer, Charles Edward Fischer "Chuckie", Francis Fischer "Bootsie", Frankie Fischer. *Neil, Mary Ann, Kim and Neil Jr., called this house on Arlene Avenue home. Neil and I had a little table set in the kitchen with white wood top and black metal frame. I used to sit in Daddy's lap in a big upholstered chair and watch the Perry Como show with him. We had snow one winter and Mama and Daddy made us a treat with milk and sugar and snow. When Daddy and I visited the house in the 1990s, I was shocked to see that the stairs leading into the kitchen were just a few steps. I still have a vivid memory of those steps and they are really steep and tall and I'm at the bottom afraid to climb up! The street has been combined with another and renamed 2316 Lorraine Drive. We moved from this house to Mayfair in 1958 just in time for Robert's birth.

Wedding of Sam Tootle and Rose Saraf at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Savannah, Georgia in 1955. Also seen in the film are Kim Marie Fischer (infant in pink), Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher, Harold Beecher, Charles Kastensmidt, Antoinette Saraf Kastensmidt, Neil Joseph Fischer, Sr., Mary Ann Fischer, Phyllis Saraf Tabakian, George Tabakian, Iris Beecher, Michael Gannam and Marian DeFrank Gannam, Grandpa Karam Gannam, Phillip Saraf, George Tabakian, Jr., Kathy Tabakian, Cindy Tabakian. The reception was at Phyllis and George Tabakian's house at 2324 East 40th Street.

Wedding of Charles Kastensmidt and Antoinette Saraf at Sacred Catholic Church in Savannah, Georgia. Also in the film are Charlie's mother and father, Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher, Iris Beecher, Harold Beecher, Film also includes footage from the reception with Neil Fischer, Jr. dancing with Denise Robison from the Kastensmidt side of the family.

The wedding of George Donald Tabakian and Phyllis Helen Saraf at Sacred Heart Church in Savannah, Georgia in 1949. Also seen in the video are Edith (in yellow) and Robert "Bob" Jenkins, Phillip Saraf, Mary Valenti, Michael Gannam, Rose Saraf (in white), Mary Ann Saraf, Harold Beecher and Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher in pink.

The wedding of Neil Joseph Fischer and Mary Ann Saraf at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Savannah on September 22, 1951. Mrs. Edith Jenkins (in the coral gown, seen with Mary Ann in front of her house on Hopkins Street and later helping her get out of the car at the church) made the wedding gown and bridesmaids' dresses. Mary Ann's brother Philip Saraf gave the bride away as her father was murdered on June 13, 1941. Also seen in film, Rose Saraf, Antoinette Saraf, Phyllis Saraf Tabakian and her son George, Jr., Mary Valenti, Sr. Mary Daria Gildea (Elizabeth Jane Gildea), Mr. Robert "Bob" Jenkins, Harold Beecher, Grandpa Karam Gannam, Michael Gannam and Antoine "Bogie" Saraf (dancing at the end).

Christmas morning 1963 with the Neil and Mary Ann Fischer family at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia. All four Fischer kids are here: Kim, Neil, Robert and baby Steven. Neil got his drum so he could be in the drum and bugle corps at St. James Catholic School, Kim got Fashion Model Barbie with three different wigs, Steven got a new tricycle, Robert got a drum, too!

The family of Neil Joseph Fischer and Mary Ann Saraf celebrating Christmas morning. Michael Steven Fischer's first Christmas at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia. Kim got a Chatty Kathy on which she recorded "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka dot bikini", perfume making kit and more, Neil got a cannon and football gear, Robert got a bow and arrow and bowling game and lots of Lego. Steven makes his first appearance and he got lots of toys, too.

The family of Neil Joseph Fischer and Mary Ann Saraf Fischer celebrating Christmas morning at 1444 Marlborough Way, Savannah, Georgia. This is the year of the fishing poles, croquet, more guns, airplanes, baby doll for Kim, big boy bike for Neil, a TV for the boys bedroom, and lots more. Next we go to Aunt Honey's (Florence Eleanor Gildea) house on Wilmington Island in our cowboy outfits and get our stockings with nuts and fruit and one dollar - a real haul back in the day. Back home to ride our bikes and be blinded by the sun in front of the house as we wave to daddy and get into the car.

Home movies of the Neil and Mary Ann Fischer family at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia in 1960. Seen in movie: Neil Joseph Fischer, Jr., Robert Anthony Fischer, Kim Marie Fischer. Daddy, Neil Joseph Fischer, Sr., is the cameraman! Cowboy attire and armaments were in vogue for all of us as Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, The Lone Ranger, Davy Crocket, Rin Tin Tin and other westerns were very popular. We all loved Tonto and so we also loved bow and arrows. That year we also got pogo sticks bicycles and more - an assortment that would not be permitted these days without helmets and other protective gear! You can see our backyard with an entire playground of equipment, too. It was a time when you left the house in the morning to play with your friends and didn't come back until you needed to use the bathroom or eat lunch! Each Christmas, Mama spent a fortune on all sorts of toys that we didn't even know we wanted.

The Fischer family - Neil Fischer, Sr. (Daddy), Mary Ann Saraf Fischer (Mama), Kim, Neil, Robert at 1444 Marlborough Way in Savannah, Georgia. Still have no idea WHY Mama insisted on putting the assembled trampoline in the family room. Baby Robert is precious but didn't smile much!

The family of George Saraf (1895-1941) and Mary Gannam (1910-2000) on Easter 1948 on Hopkins Street in Savannah, Georgia. Others identified in the film are Bob Jenkins, Neil Fischer, Phillip Saraf, Johnny Ganem, Antoine Saraf, Phyllis and George Tabakian, Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher, Mary Valenti and her sister, Mary Ann Saraf, Rose Marie Saraf, Rose Saraf, Mr. Bob Jenkins and Neil Fischer riding the horses.

Exterior views of DeRenne Chrysler Plymouth located on DeRenne Avenue at Abercorn in 1963. The dealership was owned at the time, by Ted Hanel and later sold to Zack Evans of Alabama. When Zack bought the dealership it was renamed Dixie Chrysler Plymouth. Neil Fischer, Sr. worked at the dealership for many years in various capacities: Used Car Salesman, New Car Salesman, Sales Manager until he acquired his own dealership in Leesburg, Florida called Neil Fischer's Leesburg Chrysler Plymouth and Dodge Trucks. Neil was a large man with a big heart and was known as "The round man with the square deal."

Splendid China Orlando, FL overview video. This is part of the 20 minute program that introduced guests to the park. It was created as a custom, 30 foot-wide panoramic video presentation. The Orlando company ceased operation many years ago and the park was eventually demolished. Search for more information on Splendid China at Orlando Memory dot info

Chris Peters' guitar performance of his original composition "Stone Grove". Chris was one of the top 10 semi-finalists in Guitar Player magazine's 2007 Guitar Hero competition. It was held in San Francisco's Great American Music Hall on October 12, 2007. He is a composer, performer, producer and great instructor! Check out his web site at ChrisPetersGuitar.com and his Rumble channel

Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher (1910-2000) in her back yard at 311 Paradise Drive in Savannah, Georgia in 1987. Oliver is videotaping her (trying not to let her know) Kim is interviewing (trying to record her words of wisdom for her descendants and for some reason her Georgia accent become prominent). Also present are Ashley and Christopher Peters, Mary Ann Saraf Fischer, Jayne Swiderski Fischer and Robbie Fischer, Jr. and of course, Maurice and Gigi, the French poodles. Tribute to Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher presented at the Family Reunion in 1989. Whether you know her as sister, Aunt Mary, Grandma or Cousin, Mary Gannam, Saraf, or Beecher, she is my mom and the mom of eight of us. She is one of a kind, never to be duplicated with her delightful wit and lively humor. Her cheerful spirit is full of the joy that at the age of 79 she brings to all she meets. Born in Manchester, New Hampshire on June 19, 1910, this lovely black-haired, brown-eyed little girl was the child of immigrant parents from Lebanon. Mary (Hamemi in Lebanese) was the second daughter of Karem and Annie Gannam, the first having perished from starvation in Lebanon along with her grandmother, with whom she was staying during World War I. Her brothers, Anthony, Nazer and George were also born in Manchester. In 1919, when Mary was nine, her family moved to Savannah – an economic necessity. Times were hard and better times and conditions were being sought. They settled on a small farm in a little shanty of a house at 53rd and Hopkins streets. Air-conditioned year round by the natural cracks and crevices in walls and windows, doors and roof, this little wooden structure was their home when Michael, the youngest brother was later born. She attended 38th Street School through the fourth grade, when she quit and never returned for she was needed at home to work the farm and harvest crops and cart them to market. Her family was poor and times were hard, and in those days, in foreign cultures, it was thought more important that sons be educated and daughters work at home. And so it was. And when Mary reached 16 she was only five feet tall with long jet black hair and those big brown Lebanese eyes. As is the custom in the Old Country, her marriage to George Saraf, an Armenian fleeing from the Turkish massacres in his homeland, was arranged by her parents and she was wed on June 15, 1927. With her husband, she worked hard in their confectionary and fruit stands in various locations in Old Savannah. She bore her first daughter at 17 – a stillbirth. At 18 years, she had a second daughter, Phyllis. Then came a child each year – fourteen in all – of which seven survived. They were: Phyllis, Philip, Antoinette, Mary Anne, Rose, George, and Antoine. When Mary was only 31, married just fourteen years, her husband George was fatally shot in a burglary attempt on Friday, June 13, 1941, while working at his ice cream shop on West Broad and Duffy streets. Mary was left a widow with seven children – the oldest 12 and the youngest 11 months – with another one on the way. In the trauma and grief that followed, she lost the child she carried. Barely had she recovered when on December 7, 1941, her brother George was killed at Pearl Harbor in the Japanese sneak attack. The shock of it all took its toll, but she knew she had to carry on for the sake of her children. And so, she continued to operate the ice cream shop with the help of her brother Mike and George Tabakian, whose parents had introduced George to her family. Then eighteen months later, another tragedy – her mother died from a stroke brought on by the grief she suffered over the loss of her son and from which she never fully recovered. The family grieved her loss and Mary, hurt and suffering, picked up her life and carried on. Harold Beecher came into her life and became her husband a year later. They converted the ice cream store into a package shop, more profitable during World War II. She bore him a son who died at birth, and a year later, a daughter. They sold the shop and opened a grocery store and package shop at Mills B. Lane and Hopkins streets which they operated several years until Harold went to Memorial Hospital as an engineer and Mary stayed home with the children. One by one, the children married and she was blessed with grandchildren from the start. Mary was married 37 years when Harold, wracked by emphysema, left her once again a widow. Mom is a survivor and she lives alone at her home on Paradise Drive. She is surrounded with the love and respect of her eight children, 25 grandchildren and 27 great grandchildren. Her home is always filled with the sights and sounds of family and delicious aromas never cease to come from her kitchen where she pursues her occupation – her avocation – her pride and joy to please all who enter in with her delectably seasoned dishes, both Lebanese and American. If ever an award should be given a woman, in addition for being a wonderful mom, is an award for perfection in the Culinary Arts. She is truly unsurpassed. No one, but no one, can add just that right amount of garlic or pepper or that special dash of olive oil or lemon juice to achieve that perfect dish as mom can! And no one will ever match the perfection of her special barbecue sauce. Her cooking skills will bear her lasting testimony. Her children, family and friends attest to that. God bless her, keep her well and lively with her many colorful expletives and figures of speech that would make a sailor blush, but delight us and bring many smiles to our sometimes solemn faces. May she keep on laughing and telling all those wild and riotous jokes! And, Oh, Lord, please keep her cooking!

Beautiful and elegant Tennessee Walking Horses are featured in this old 16 mm film of a competition in, we believe, South Carolina. Bob Jenkins and Neil Fischer, Sr. of Savannah, Georgia can be seen competing in this film from 1949. Robert "Bob" and Edith Jenkins of Savannah, Georgia were friends with Neil Fischer whom they met because Neil's Aunt Florence Gildea had a horse stable and riding academy in Savannah at the time. The Jenkins also knew the family of Mary Saraf and her daughter Mary Ann. The Jenkins introduced Neil and Mary Ann and they married in 1951. Neil is showing the grey horse and Bob is on the dark brown horse. They are in the same shot at about 5:34 into the film. Growing up none of us kinds knew that our Daddy (Neil Joseph Fischer) trained or showed horses until one day we found a pair of riding pants in his dresser drawer and asked what in the heck they were.

Church Street Station WAS an entertainment hot spot in Downtown Orlando located on Church Street between Garland and the train tracks for almost 30 years. It closed many years ago. It was the most amazing place in the world. This is a promo video created and sent to travel agents and tour directors across the United States and the world. Scenes from every music room is included: Rosie O'Grady's, Cheyenne Saloon, Orchid Garden Ballroom, Phineas Phoggs, Lili Marlene's, Apple Annies. RELIVE THE GOOD OLD DAYS with images of Rock n Soul, Can Can Girls, Miss Ruth Crews, Donna Lamoureaux, and more. For more info - photos - audio files on Church Street Station SEARCH the local history site Orlando Memory dot info for "Church Street Station", "Rosie O'Grady's Good Time Jazz Band" and "Red Hot Mama". You'll be glad you did!!!

Clark Barrios was lead male singer with the group Rock-n-Soul at the Orchid Garden at Church Street Station entertainment complex in downtown Orlando, Florida. Our family had been fans of Church Street Station since it opened in the early 1970s. We fell in love with the rock-n-roll band at the Orchid Garden and became friends with the band members, wait staff and other fans! Some of our antics were epic! In 1997 Clark created a tribute to Elvis on the Anniversary of his death. We got wind of it and decided to participate, giving red roses to ladies in the audience to give to "Elvis" and throwing under garments at the appropriate moments. The waitstaff decided to join in on the fun. Be sure to watch all three clips especially number three. Rock-n-Soul is Clark Barrios, Donna Lamoureaux, Phil May, Tim Campbell, Big Daddy Dave Williams, Mike Bunch. Clark now performs at The Villages and other locations around Florida. If you have not heard him perform in person - you must do so! Ask him to sing "Walking In Memphis" - one of my favorites!

Clark Barrios was lead male singer with the group Rock-n-Soul at the Orchid Garden at Church Street Station entertainment complex in downtown Orlando, Florida. Our family had been fans of Church Street Station since it opened in the early 1970s. We fell in love with the rock-n-roll band at the Orchid Garden and became friends with the band members, wait staff and other fans! Some of our antics were epic! In 1997 Clark created a tribute to Elvis Presley on the Anniversary of his death. We got wind of it and decided to participate, giving red roses to ladies in the audience to give to "Elvis" and throwing under garments at the appropriate moments. The waitstaff decided to join in on the fun. Be sure to watch all three clips especially number three. Rock-n-Soul is Clark Barrios, Donna Lamoureaux, Phil May, Tim Campbell, Big Daddy Dave Williams, Mike Bunch. Clark now performs at The Villages and other locations around Florida. If you have not heard him perform in person - you must do so! Ask him to sing "Walking In Memphis" - one of my favorites!