“Grandpa’s godfather was a Scotsman,” Mac continued. “But Grandpa never talked

about his father. I’d like to help you son but there’s nothing else I know. They said we left

Scotland as outlaws.”

            I thought of my trip to Scotland when I had jokingly repeated that comment at a little

quaint Bed & Breakfast outside of Sterling .

            “Don’t be saying that about your relatives,” spoke MacGregor. “We were stealing cattle

off our own land.” He went on to tell me the history of Robert the Bruce and how he made

outlaws of some clans in order to steal their land. He then gave the land to English nobles to gain

their allegiance.

            “It’s funny,” I said, “when I was in Scotland I had haggis for breakfast. It wasn’t new to

me. I recognized the flavors. I even found a few places that served mutton pie.”

            “Your Grandfather used to serve food like that at his diner,” Mac remembered.

            “Really? Where?”

            “At Mac’s Diner.”

            “Where’s Mac’s Diner?”

            “Your Grandfather has a diner by Hinchcliff Stadium.”

            “I never knew Grandpa had a diner.”

            “Oh yea. He served haggis, fish and chips, stuff like that.”

            “Do you think that’s why I know the flavor?”

            “I think that was before your time.”

            “Wasn’t Hinchcliff Stadium used for a Hendrix concert and a boxing match between

Sonny Liston and Floyd Paterson?” I asked stretching my memory.

            “Hinchcliff Stadium was used for the championships of our sandlot football league,” he

continued. “There were crowds of 500 to 1,000 people. We had dozens of teams in the Paterson-

Totowa  area.  Matti Megavich used to referee the games. The city marked the lines on the

field. Sometimes we played at the Totowa Oval. We had the Totowa Merchants, Saint Mary’s,

the Riverside Merchants, St. Michael’s, Passaic and Clifton had teams. Nuch Frank had the

Franklin Club. Then there were the Lincoln Ramblers, they were an older team with Mockie and

Sammy Vacca. The Thompson Brothers played. Ozzie Simmons was the first black to play in

our league.”

            “You said there were older teams?”

            Mac continued, “Players were 16 to 26. You could start playing without pads at 14 to 16

years old. Carmen Cafaldie, Eddie Matt, Ace Micale, Bones, “The Turk,” your Uncle Fred was a

quarterback. The Black Hawks were all Mac brothers. Ken was a guard, Uncle Don was an end,

he was #75. I was a fullback. The Mountaineer Miners were semi-pro. Then we had some pro

teams, the Jersey City Giants, the Newark Bears and the Paterson Panthers. The Panthers played

the Green Bay Packers in 1935 at Hinchcliff Stadium. It was wild in those days. They had an

umpire die in a game. I think he was an NFL official. In fact, we played with Rick Casaris. He

went on to play with the Chicago Bears before Gale Sayers.

            Dear Uncle Don,

             I thought you might enjoy spending a few minutes with your oldest brothers thoughts

and memories. I always felt  lucky that Dad and I had gone to see Grandpa the week that he died.

We had to help him to the bathroom and he was embarrassed, saying he was sorry that I had to

see him like that. I always felt lucky that I’d gotten to see him and help him. I feel the same

lucky that I got to talk to my father about the genealogy. I’m also glad I sent him a Father’s day

card this year.  Thank you for making my brother Robbie and my nephew Mark feel welcome

when they saw you and Rose. When I called Mark to tell him that Mac had died he told me he

wanted to go to the funeral. Then he said, “Gee Uncle Bill, I wish I’d gotten to know him.”

He’s a good kid and it’s hard for me to type with the tears in my eyes.

Merry Christmas and God bless you Uncle Don and I love you too.