John Harrison was born in South Medford, but he can also remember the West End. Some of his mother’s family, the Tringalis, were still there. He can close his eyes and smell the wood stove in his grandfather’s house on Leverett Street, remember the thrill of having a few cents to buy the penny candy at Kramer’s, and see his grandfather and his uncles, Jimmy and Guy, making wine in the cellar.

He was just a child, but he was allowed to sip a little of that wine and “it had a wonderful robust taste much more distinct than anything you can buy in a store. My uncles probably bought the grapes in Chelsea and they were making the wine constantly since they gave it away to so many friends and family.”