It’s very special to have a person in your life who has never let you down. For me that person was my Pappou. Pappou means grandfather in Greek. Not only was I lucky enough to know all four of my grandparents, but since my Pappou remarried, I grew up with my Yiayia (grandma in Greek), as a bonus grandparent.
My mom is an only child. Being the only grandchildren on that side, my younger sister Lindsey and I spent a lot of time with her parents. My first passport was issued at three years old, and after a couple trips to Greece with our parents, we started flying as unaccompanied minors. I’ve spent at least every summer with my Pappou and Yiayia since I was 8 years old.
My Pappou was born in 1932. When he was about 7, Greece was invaded as World War II broke out. As a result living in Athens was no longer safe. And because of a major food shortage, it was no longer sustainable. So, his family took refuge in a small village where life wasn’t easy. At 8 years old he’d walk almost three hours to get to school each week, where he and his younger brother stayed on weekdays sleeping on a mattress on the floor.
Despite hardship, he went on to be a Fulbright Scholar at the University of Michigan Law School and got his Doctorate at Northwestern. He was fluent in 7 languages, thanks to an aunt who helped teach him. He helped translate in the military, and was the youngest Minister of Religion and Education of Greece, where he did many great things,like founding a much needed school in Corfu that is still around today. Education was always very important to him.