As the evening rains fall gently outside the windows, Donnie Verucchi’s face breaks into an impish smile. &uot;Yea,&uot; he chuckles. &uot;I tell people we’re all Verruchis on this road. The farther you go back, the meaner we get … and I live at the end.&uot;

It’s a familiar line, yet Verucchi laughs each time he repeats it … a laugh that echoes more than a hint of pride and love for both Verucchi Road and the role it plays in this family’s life.

&uot;This is where I was raised,&uot; Donnie says matter-of-factly. &uot;I tell people it’s the same dirt I played in, my son played in and my dad played in.&uot;

That &uot;dirt&uot; is rich with family history and roots, as Donnie readily admits. The oldest of five children, is the third generation of his family to live on this road – a nondescript lane off U.S. 61 north that only 10 years or so ago received its &uot;formal&uot; name.

&uot;My grandmother’s family bought this land,&uot; he said, explaining that the family’s original tract included more than 80 acres near Old Washington Road in north Adams County.

&uot;I can remember sitting on the back of that road as a kid, seeing the cars come out of natchez and seeing if we could guess what kind of car it was,&uot; Donnie said, adding that times were simpler in the mid 1900s, and traffic was much slower.

His grandmother started the &uot;neighborhood&uot; along Verruchi Road simply: &uot;They built one house, lived in it until they built another, and then rented (the first one) out,&uot; Donnie said. Today, Verucchi; his parents; his grandmother; and one of his brothers all live on the nearly mile-long road. Donnie Verucchi and his wife, Carolyn, live as he said &uot;at the end,&uot; and their sunroom provides a sweeping view of the bottom that once served as the farm for his grandfather.

&uot;He truck farmed,&uot; Donnie said. &uot;Of course, back then there wasn’t such thing as a truck, so he used a wagon to pull his vegetables and fruit into town.&uot;

The family lived off their land. &uot;My grandmother used to milk cows,&uot; Donnie said. &uot;I’d bring her the newspaper every evening, and she’d give me two bottles of milk and let me use the telephone.&uot;

Now, his father tends the gardens – a hobby learned in retirement. &uot;I don’t believe I’m going to truck farm for the rest of them when Dad stops,&uot; Donnie said with a laugh.