It was a few days before Christmas in 1923, and Daniel Palumbo was working a last shift with the St. Paul water department. Palumbo, a drummer, was leaving to pursue his musical aspirations, but he had agreed to put in one more day on the job in order to earn money for Christmas presents for his family,

He was laboring on excavated pipes when a chunk of frozen ground on the top of the ditch fell on him, killing him. Palumbo, 28, was survived by his wife, Mary Rose, a daughter, a stepdaughter and numerous other relatives.

Devastated family members held a funeral mass, and a year later, they held a mass of remembrance. In December 1925, they held another one, and they have done so every year since, with the latest taking place earlier this month in St. Paul.

Tony Palumbo, the Anoka County attorney, is a nephew of Daniel's who remembers attending the annual mass as a child, but it wasn't until he was an adult that he fully appreciated it, he said.

The event, born of profound sadness, provided a way for family and friends to seek healing together, he said. While the family still commemorates Daniel and other loved ones who have died, the mass has evolved into a celebration of "all of those who've gone before us, what they mean to us," Tony Palumbo said.

When everything else falls away, the mass represents a constant: "It has great meaning because it is a thread that's woven throughout all of our lives. It holds us together, at least in thought, for at least one day in December," he said.

"I was just asked if the tradition would die when my generation does. I have a feeling it will not. So many in the generation below me look forward to this," and they're making sure it keeps going, Palumbo said. He also organizes a family meet-up in the summertime, which is in its 15th year.

Through the years, the get-togethers have gotten bigger, mirroring the family's growth. This year's mass, on Saturday, Dec. 6, drew about 125 people representing different generations to St. Stanislaus Catholic Church in St. Paul. One attendee, Lorraine Rancone, 92, was present at the very first Palumbo family mass.

Remembering Daniel

Pat Gamnis is the daughter of Marie (Palumbo) Behr, who was Daniel Palumbo's daughter. She was 5 when he died.

Marie adored her father, Gamnis said, and kept a picture of him at her bedside when she lived in an assisted-living facility. In fact, Behr's last words before she died a couple of years ago related to her father. When asked what her dad's name was and what did he play, "she said 'the drums' and then she closed her eyes," Gamnis said.

When Behr was a child, Daniel Palumbo played in a band that provided musical accompaniment at a silent movie house. He used to bring Marie there and wave to her from the orchestra pit.

She had a red snowsuit with a ruffle around it. When she wore it, her dad told her she looked like a poppy. That became a nickname for her, Gamnis said.

This year, Gamnis' family hosted the mass, which entails setting up the tables and organizing the logistics. The family also created a memento, a Christmas ornament showing Daniel Palumbo's picture on it as well as a newspaper clipping about his death.

Food, faith and family

The family mass began at the Holy Redeemer Church, which was torn down in 1968 to make way for an Interstate 35 freeway entrance, according to Tony Palumbo.

Afterward, the event relocated to several other St. Paul churches. It has been at St. Stanislaus Church since 1998.

The Rev. John Forliti, who has led the ceremony since then, said it's unusual for a family to hold a memorial mass for so many years. "A lot of people today, with the society we live in, don't always have those common family connections," he said.

Every year, Forliti, who has been "adopted" into the family, delivers a talk about food, faith and family. "Overall, there's a real richness for a family and extended family to gather around things that hold them together, like their faith, commitment to family and customs, such as around food," he said.

On Dec. 6, the banquet table was nearly 35 feet long. "It was an awesome sight," Forliti said. "There was a lot of love in that food."

The event pulls people together. It helps people to "touch something beyond, to touch the divine, the spiritual, to get strength from that," he said. "Common beliefs bind people together and provide strength. Family does the same thing. It's the bonding that makes a family a family."

A part of something bigger

Rick Cunningham, a cousin of Tony Palumbo's, said he has come to realize that the event has shaped him in many ways. "Whether you're an introvert or an extrovert, you feel it. You want more of it. You want to come back to it again and again," he said.

Through the mass, relatives are able to keep tabs on each other. "On a deep level, we really do care about one another, beyond the immediate family," Cunningham said.

The fact that it's been going for so many years and people have come and gone underscores the "rhythm of life. There's something reassuring and blessed about that." It's about being involved in something that's bigger than oneself, he said.

Anna Pratt is a Minneapolis freelance writer. She can be reached at annaprattjournalist@gmail.com.