I am a sixth-generation Nevadan. Both sides of my family came to the United States from Europe and traveled west like many pioneers. They journeyed across an arid alkaline desert … and decided to stay. My roots were planted in a place where grit and grace are necessary, and I’m thankful for that.
I’m also thankful for where I was raised, in the not-so-small-anymore town of Fernley. My sets of grandparents grew up here and raised their families here. Specifically, my maternal ones, Stan and Judy Ceresola, graduated from Fernley High School in 1965, lived here for 50-plus years, and became pivotal members of Fernley. Unfortunately, they are no longer with us, but I hope to keep my grandparents’ legacy alive by bringing their classic stories to life. So many tales were spun around the kitchen table with laughter and tears, and I want to share these gems with the community they loved. This is what I hope to emulate in this piece.
One of my favorite stories in particular is the time my grandpa was ‘just scopin’ out’ my grandma during one of the town’s dances. Hearing Stan tell his version of it versus Judy’s point of view was always a treat. I think it was at some Fireman’s Ball (I wish I knew better details), and the young couple was going through a basic marital spat. You know the one where you’re each flustered with each other, jealous about something or another, but won’t let yourself admit it. The local party was held both inside a big garage and outdoors, if I remember the story right. At one point in the evening, my grandma politely shared a dance with someone else, as a kind gesture of sorts, and absolutely not to annoy her husband that much more. Maybe it was a woman’s intuition that she scanned the area at that moment, or maybe it was because she couldn’t miss the fact that a cowboy hat was sticking out from behind a telephone pole. Stan, full-time proficient rancher and part-time amateur sleuth, was simply keeping an eye on his wife without causing any attention towards himself, of course.
The scene reminded me of something from a 1950s sitcom. The marital spat didn’t last much longer after that. My grandma, perhaps silently, appreciated the straightforward gesture of her man, always ready to protect her if ever needed, and my grandpa appreciated the fact that his lady was always the magnetic life of the party. I’m not sure if Judy admitted to revealing Stan’s goof that night or if it wasn’t until years later, as the story was repeated during coffee and cookies when the entire family gathered around the kitchen table. I am sure it is forever a treasured image to me of his Stetson brim poking out from afar while she smirks at herself with a twinkle in her eye.
Always be there for your partner and don’t let a disagreement get in the way of your love for each other. Stan and Judy, together through and through.
They are still deeply missed, and we love them dearly. Thankfully, there are so many stories to still share. If you have a story you’d like to contribute about Stan and Judy Ceresola, please contact us at [email protected] to help me with a possible future submission.
Shelbie Condie has been a Northern Nevada resident most of her life and graduated from Fernley High School in 2014. She lived in California for a decade, graduated from college at UC Davis in 2018, and worked in the Sacramento area as a legal assistant. She returned home to Nevada in 2024, where she continues her writing aspirations.
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