by Joanne Spata When I was a teenager, more years in the past than I choose to admit, I remember visiting the grounds of the Italian Cultural Center. There, on the first Sunday in August, the Cultural Center would host its annual picnic. It was a wonderful day filled with beautiful surroundings, lively music and organized games for all. The day would begin with an outdoor Mass and would sometimes end with a full symphony orchestra playing under the pavilion; followed by the explosion of fireworks under the stars. In between, if you were fortunate, guided tours were given of …
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