September 25th, 2023

Hello Friends,

 From a very early age , I was always  outspoken, adventurous, mischievous and always curious and NEVER satisfied with the status quo….

     I can still hears faint echoes of my father’s deep voice saying to my mother, behind closed doors…."Hun (they always referred to each other as "hun" and sometimes I wasn’t quite sure of their real names)….hun, what the hell is wrong with that kid? He never pays attention". In actuality, I was paying attention every single minute. I was watching, observing, analyzing, and digesting all the information that I could gather from my parents and extended family. There was so much to take in and not enough ways to process the information. Of course our "family" included my parent’s siblings and their children but also my grandmother’s 12 siblings and their children and also any neighbors and their families who happened to work or live near my grandparent’s bakery. My grandmother’s house was referred to as Grand Central Station and she wouldn’t have it any other way. There was a revolving door of people coming in and out at all hours. There was so much to take in.

    But in 1952 we moved from the city and my grandmother’s house, to our idyllic two acre plot in the town of West Webster, on Gravel Rd. My parents had built a three-bedroom ranch and moved to the suburbs. And in that house, for 16 years, from the time he was born, until the time I moved out, I shared a bedroom with my brother Patrick. We were always so different and remain so today. He steadfastly continued in the baking business, like my father while I tried to go in a million different directions at the same time. Today his iconic Rochester, NY business, Leo’s Bakery is known far and wide as it supplies both baked goods, delicatessen foods and restaurant supplies to educational and entertainment institutions across Western NY. 

    But my role in the family was far different. As the oldest of six siblings, I was the babysitter as well as a constant source of adventure and entertainment. I would turn our basement into a haunted house for Halloween, decorate our bedroom at Christmas time with old holiday cards, turn my chemistry set into a magic show or make monsters out of modeling clay that could devour toy cowboys and soldiers. Outside we were free to explore every inch of the two acre lot where my parents had built their tiny ranch house. We made forts of fallen trees and huts out of bales of hay; we shot arrows at pumpkins and "hunted" with our BB guns. But inside I kept telling myself that there must be more than our little microcosm, that the world was a lot bigger than West Webster, NY. My dad brought me along to work with him at his bakery. There again, I was really too distracted to be a good worker. However, I did make lots of friends who were interesting and who lived in the city. Every day in the summer, my dad and I would drive down Empire Blvd from Webster to where it becomes Clifford Ave. and crosses the line into the City. When we crossed that line, everything was different, the shades of the houses and the cars and the people were all different. The city and the suburbs were such different places and the city really drew my attention. On one of those drives I distinctly remember asking my dad what he liked to do for fun. He must have been in one of those grumpy moods because he looked at me and said, “what do you mean "do"?  Work, eat, sleep…. that’s all I do every single day". I kept it to myself, but I was completely taken aback. I didn’t want that kind of life. I had to break out or I thought I would die. I couldn’t stand to be in the mold of anyone else. 

   And so it was that little Johnny Bernunzio made a personal pact to break out of the mold and become a self styled person. Over the course of my 76 years I have moved at least 25 times, taught in seven different schools, started a musical instrument business, raised five children, crossed the continent a dozen times, been to Europe a dozen times…. But, so it is now that I am very content to live in the tiny town of Penn Yan, NY, far from the bustling crowds of the cities and the turbulence of the world. It seems to take all the effort I have to leave once a week to come back to Rochester to work the store. I love the business and I love what I do there, but I seem to be burrowing in to the life of small American town. It seems to be a far cry from the mischievous and adventurous Johnny B. of long ago. Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s the tumultuous times we live in and just maybe my father was right….what the hell is wrong with that kid, hun?".

 Sincerely,

John Bernunzio 

The Keuka Outlet Trail

My town….