John Karousos, Detroit Businessman Remembered

John N. Karousos, 96, died peacefully at Hospice of Northwest Ohio. He is survived by his loving wife, Georgia, and daughter Persilla (Chris) Zervos; granddaughter, Jacqueline Zervos; grandson Christopher (Tricia) Zervos of Cincinnati, and great granddaughter Kathryn Zervos.

Born November 11, 1911, in Karousata, Kefalonia, Greece, Mr. Karousos was owner-operator of the Acropolis Market & Bakery, Detroit, MI, and previously the Monroe Grocery & Bakery, Ambrosia Market and the O.K. Bakery in Detroit's Greek Town.

As a youth he was taken under the wing of his maternal uncles who took turns teaching him trades. He learned to make feta in Italy, learned to bake bread and finally learned to be a barber.  During World War II, my father was part of the Greek underground army.  He secretly baked and delivered bread, food, and medicine to occupied Kefalonian towns held captive by Axis armies.  His daring nightly deliveries were credited with saving entire villages from starvation. He also fought the communists as they tried to take advantage of Greece's struggle against the Italians and Germans. His father was captured and killed by Communists.  His mother lost an eye while held captive in a Communist work camp. 

My mother was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and even though she was taken to Greece at the age of 8, she still remembered enough English to communicate with German soldiers guarding the hospital in Patras where she was a nurse.  My mother was able to persuade a German soldier to save my father who after being captured was scheduled to be killed by a firing squad.  He was pulled out of the lineup at the last minute. He married my mother, Georgia, in 1946, emigrated to the United States and became a U.S. citizen in 1952. 

He was a member of Saints Constantine & Helen Greek Orthodox Church and lately of Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Cathedral in Toledo, Ohio.   

To me my father was always larger than life.  Even though he was only 5'8'' he seemed so much larger as he baked bread to be sold in his store and be delivered to grocery stores and restaurants in the metropolitan areas of Detroit.  As an only child and first generation Greek American my parents were very strict in my upbringing.  However, I could always persuade my father to be more lenient.  He only spoke English in his store and to others if it had anything to do with his business.  Other times he pushed me to be his interpreter. He was a kind, fun-loving and generous man that never turned anyone away.  There are many men and women in the Detroit area that as immigrants without a trade were able to make a living by working in my father's stores. He enjoyed playing Tavli (Backgammon), Prefa (a card game) and was a fantastic Tsamikos dancer.  He will be missed by his family and friends.

I can still remember going to the Acropolis Market after church on Sundays. We would take Oakman Blvd and then turn right on Joy Road. We would buy our bread for the week, and my father and mother would chat with John and Georgia bringing one another up to date with the goings of Detroit. The store was filled with the warmth of baking bread and the thought of the aroma still warms me. Persilla, Kathy and I would run between the legs of our parents, often munching on the bread, which we ate from the center out, accompanied by a piece of feta generously offered by Mr. Karousos. A true indulgence, nothing to this day has ever tasted better.

My Grandmother, Pauline Zegolis, had a special bond with the couple and I believe that they lived in the same house when first coming to the Detroit area. Thursday was the day she visited with her friends, and I can still remember her directing my mom to the grocer to pick up her favorite delicacy that had been saved for her by Mr. Karousos, dare I share? The specialty was a freshly baked lambs head. It was always wrapped with brown paper and string and the juice would spot the paper with its savory scent. I can honestly say that it took me quite sometime to relish this "treat" and my mother would often camouflage the sweet meat telling us it was a lamb chop. To this day, I can't really look a baby lamb in the eye. But for my grandmother it was ritual. If it was Thursday, we could be found at the Acropolis Market.

As these lions of the past generation department, their legacy remains forever alive in our memories. However, if we speak of them and remember them in our thoughts and prayers they never really die. They will always be among us, for you see they remain a constant lamp to light our way when life becomes blurred. I envy their clear vision and ability to put their thoughts into action. Persilla and I attended MSU together in the early 70's. We traveled through out the US and Canada with the Maids of Athena District Lodge. These journey's were filled with memories given to us by our parents and grand parents, for you see they were always guiding us to be friends. They knew that these friendships would out last any high school or college friendships, because your "Greek Friends" were forever. They were right. I wouldn't change my friends for a minute, I know that our history will always keep our friendships strong, and although we may not always call, or spend time together, we know that we are there for one another, ready to pick up at any moment that we meet.

Actually, I wouldn't be surprised to find an Acropolis Bakery in heaven, where we will find them all waiting for us, among the dusty shelves of green peppers, Kalamata Olives, and Olive Oil with a freshly baked loaf of Greek Bread waiting just for us on the counter. If not, then heaven just might have been right here on earth.

May his memory be eternally remembered by all of us.

Tributes may be made to the Hellenic Dance Company of Holy Trinity Cathedral.

Malista!