Elise Sereni Patkotak

The December 1, 2005 issue of this paper carried a letter to the editor from a gentleman who wanted to know why none of the victims rescued from neglect and abuse through the Office of Children’s Services have come forward to defend OCS and praise the actions that were taken in their name.  I read the letter and sighed. 

In all my life, I never wanted to end up as the defender of OCS.  On a good day, in my capacity as a GAL, I can be as angry and frustrated with the services and staff as any other person

There is a scene in one episode of the show “Everybody Loves Raymond” where his brother’s new girlfriend is finding out for the first time just how crazy the family can be.  Ray’s wife comments that she sometimes forgets how weird the family is until a new person comes into their lives and looks at them with horror. She adds, “And now I’m one of them.”

Sometimes I feel that way about being an Alaskan.  I don’t realize how strange some things are here until I hear them described by someone from outside who has arrived in our state recently

When I got my learner’s permit, my parents made it clear that they did not believe in paying for driving lessons.  I went to a small Catholic high school that didn’t offer driver’s ed in the curriculum.  And if it wasn’t available for free from the school, then they would just have to be the ones to teach me.

So the first few weeks I had my permit, my dad was my designated driving instructor.  About once a week, after much begging, crying and sulking on my part, which would cause my mother to start getting a migraine, he’d agree

Along with many other Alaskans, I kicked off the holiday season with turkey and ballet.  But this year, the Nutcracker was even more special than usual because three wonderful young ladies accompanied my friends and me to the ballet.  They were beautiful by any standards you’d like to apply and added to that, they were suffused with the beauty of youth.

When Kate and I first made plans to go to the Nutcracker, we decided on a matinee figuring we’d get away with dressing casual, dining casual and being home soon after dark. Our goal was to be in our

It should come as no surprise to regular readers of this column that I am anything but a holiday person.  I tend to hide from Thanksgiving till New Year’s in the hope that I can escape the worse of the holiday cheer without spoiling it for everyone else.  But I do like Thanksgiving.  It’s the perfect holiday – food without the pressure of gifts.

In my family it always started with clams casino made by my dad with his own special recipe. I won’t give his secret away but I will tell you he didn’t waste any space with breadcrumbs. 

It’s been quite a roller coaster ride for Italians these past few weeks.  On the plus side, one of our boys, Samuel Alito, got nominated for the Supreme Court.  Italian American mothers all over the country, but especially in the New Jersey/New York/Pennsylvania triangle, beamed with pride as they made their Sunday sauce this week.  I know for a fact that some dirt at Holy Sepulcher Cemetery in Glenside shifted.  I don’t think even my deceased family members could stay still with this news.

Italian immigrants who dreamed of a better world for their children and grandchildren once again had