Charles Nygard

• Frances Bove Nave
  
• Dominic Nave
  
• Joseph Nygard
  
• Anna Hendrickson Nygard

Grandparents

• Virginia Nave Madore Melchiorre DeSantis
  
• Alessandro Melchiorre
  
• Ann Fitzpatrick
  
• Carl V. Nygard

Parents

• Carl Nygard
  
• Catherine Melchiorre Nygard

Brothers and Sisters

• Cathy Nygard Hasson
  
• Carl Nygard, Jr.
• Craig Nygard
  
• Carol Anne Nygard
  
• Caren Nygard Cornman
  

• David
  
• Lauren

Charles Nygard was born in Milmont Park in September, 1962. The youngest of the Nygard family, Charles recalls the warm family environment he was raised in. His sister Cathy used to take him everywhere. Along with Caren, his sister, they used to get dressed up in their Sunday best and go to Church with their sister Cathy. Cathy would treat Charlie to Gino's hamburgers and I don't think she'll ever know how much he loved that! Charlie remembers her buying me my first little matchbox at the Bazaar of Alll Nations in Clifton Heights. It was a white ambulance that cost 29 cents. The Bazaar always had a unique smell, not good, not bad, not food, not body odor. It was something unique, probally a combination of all the above.

He remembers his head almost going through the Volkswagon Beetle when Carl slammed on the brakes on McDade Blvd. in Woodlyn. Carl used to come home when he was done caddying and eat like 100 hamburgers. Charlie though he was going to die because he was eating too fast. Carl went to get Charlie popcorn at the first Wawa ever built, right around the corner from us, in the middle of a snowstorm.

Craig always tried to teach Charlie things. I still remember that he always seemed so smart. He wasn't so smart when his car caught on fire, though. I remember when Craig went off to school and he lived at around 43rd and Pine. His apartment was so cool! He had us over at Thanksgiving and and we watched John Brodie of the San Francisco 49er's play the Cowboys. What a treat! When he graduated from Drexel, Spiro Agnew was the speaker. 

Carol Anne was always so much fun, except in the morning when I think she was a different person. The first time I ever heard the phrase "morning person", I knew that person had been in the company of Carol Anne in the morning. She used to take me into town, and she bought me my first soft pretzel from a street vendor. I was in heaven. She would always type me letters from her jobs and always do so many special little things that made me happy. I used to love waiting for her to come home, we would pick her up at the train station.