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This is the true story of my visit to my family's hometown in
Italy. I was urged to write this by a then unknown and long lost
cousin. I met her on the Internet through a bulletin board
posting that I made in November 1998.
Lisa De Credico saw it and replied with the question, " . . .
being our grand parents came from the same home town in Italy,
Torrevecchia Teatina in Abruzzo, is it possible that they were
playmates when they were young?" Having done about 10 years of
"roots" tracing I discovered that not only were our
grandparent�s playmates but that Cousin Lisa and I were linked
at least four (4) times in our ancestry. When she found out
about this she was excited for Lisa and I are "into" genealogy
and have a strong desire to know our "roots." Her web pages
prove it.
This
story then is the result of Lisa's prompting to record my
experiences on my visit to Torrevecchia Teatina. On January 27,
1957, three days after graduating from high school, I enlisted
in the US Air Force and was on my way to Lakeland AFB in Texas.
Eight weeks later I was attending school in Denver Colorado.
After this school I went home on leave before going to Europe. I
was assigned to Toul Rosiers AFB that is near Nancy, France.
While home on leave, grand pa Achille told me that if at all
possible I MUST visit his hometown Torrevecchia Teatina,
province of Abruzzo. I promised him that I certainly would. He
wrote to His first cousin Nicola Sbaraglia who was living there
with his son Remo at that time. I went to France and did not get
the opportunity to go on leave until March 1958. I decided that
the time was right for me to "go home." I therefore took a
fifteen-day leave and set off for Italy. I took the Orient
Express from Nancy, France headed for Geneva Switzerland where I
would change to one going to Rome, Italy. Most European trains
have compartments, which seat 6 passengers. I quickly learned
how popular Americans and American cigarettes were. My fellow
travelers were eager to trade me a "Lucky Strike" for a variety
of French Brands. This is like trading a Cadillac for a
skateboard. The French brands have a distinctive aroma - Very
distinctive. I later found out that one of the French brands
that I smoked did not contain any tobacco - just the veins and
stems of the tobacco leaves. I was happy that I received so much
attention from them. They were curious as to many things
American and I answered all their questions as best as I could.
At almost every stop of the train the vendors got on the train
selling their wares. Food, boiled eggs, cheeses, bread, smoked
fish, fruit, candy, gum and untold variety of other things. It
seems that on the 3rd and 2nd class coaches there is no diner
car. The only source of food is to have brought it with you or
buying it from the vendors. At the next station, the vendors
would get off the train and take another train going in the
opposite direction in order to get home. Most of the time other
vendors took their place selling various things. My problems
quickly surfaced as I only spoke a smattering of Italian; just
enough to get by it seems. I did not speak French, Swiss or
German either and most of my traveling companions did. It turned
out well I suppose. I was forced to use the little I Italian
that I know combine it with signs, drawings and anything else I
could think of to communicate. I managed not to insult anyone or
get arrested for using improper language or phrases.
Chapter Two
Across the Alps
Geneva, Switzerland was beautiful - but I saw it from the train
station and from the train windows. The Europeans are quite
punctual in their train service and there was little time to
sight see. Boarding the train to Rome, I found the
accommodations similar but not quite as luxurious as the Orient
Express.
While crossing the Alps, I awoke after a short nap in the early
morning to a surreal scene. We were at the time high in the
mountains - above the clouds and going down hill. The wheels of
the train, which I could see as we rounded the turns in the
track, glowed cherry red from the friction of the brakes being
applied to slow our decent. It was a beautiful but frightening
sight - looking down on the clouds watching the glowing train
wheels. On the trip to Rome I also became aware of the subtle
dialectic changes in the Italian language. The northern dialect
is not the same as the southern dialectic. It is sort of like
listening to some one from New Englander talk to some one from
Georgia. The words that were spoken meant the same thing but
they sure did not sound the same. I hesitated to even try my
meager Italian. So I either said nothing or spoke in English.
Passengers came and went at each stop and I met many
casual-traveling companions along the way. The vendors were
present also and I purchased a delicious breakfast of boiled
eggs, cheese and bread from them. The scenery was breathtaking
and beautiful as it passed by the train window. We finally
arrived in Rome. I intentionally delayed getting the train to
Pescara for I had to get my land legs back. So I strolled in the
beautiful train station of Rome. I wanted to absorb some of the
Italy I had only read and heard of. It just wasn't enough. The
sights and sounds cried out for more time and attention than I
could give the at this time. I had a cup of expresso coffee that
was an eye opener. It had enough caffeine to jolt me awake - for
the rest of the day. I boarded the train for Pescara and had
another fascinating train trip this time across the "boot" to
the East Coast of Italy. Arriving in Pescara late at night.
Allow me to paint a mental picture of this scene; I was lost! 18
years old - in a foreign country - trying to get to a place
which I didn't know where it was - to visit a home that I didn't
know the address of - to see people of who I only knew from
photographs. Oh woe was me. What to do - what to do. I decided
to take a cab to Torrevecchia Teatina. I knew from Grandpa
Achille that Remo Sbaraglia was then the mayor of the town so I
told the cab driver to take me to the home of the mayor of
Torrevecchia Teatina and off we went. It seems that the driver,
who knew exactly where to go. He told me later that he lived in
Torrevecchia Teatina. Fate works in mysterious ways. After a
short ride we arrived at the home of my Great Uncle Nicola
Sbaraglia. I found out later it was in Castel Ferato - not
Torrevecchia Teatina. Thanks to the driver I had arrived at the
home of my realtives. It was now past midnight and I was very
relieved to meet and greet my great Uncle Nicola. The cab driver
was paid a bonus by me for his delivering me to the right home
the on the first attempt. He returned to Pescara and I was
ushered into Uncle Nicola's home where I was treated like a
pilgrim - wandering out or the wilderness. There wasn't anything
that I needed that wasn't provided me. But what I wanted most
having been on the trains for two days was a good night's sleep
in a real bed. The feather bed I was to use was like sleeping on
a cloud after the ordeal I had just went through - but my
adventure had just begun.
Chapter Three
Breakfast
Morning came a lot faster that I wanted it to. The sun shone on
me through the window demanding that I get up and enjoy it. So I
did. Leaving the wonderful warmth of the feather bed was
difficult but I realized that I had only a few days to see all
that I could in town of my ancestors. I was excited to start my
discoveries. I dressed and went to the bathroom. It was not
really the bathroom for there was no bathtub or showers only a
toilet, toilet paper, a large covered container of water and a
pitcher. The pitcher was used to pour water from the large
container into the toilet. The toilet emptied into a cesspool. I
later discovered that there was no running water in the house
and for that matter in the entire village. The water in the
container was carried from the village well, which was about 500
feet along a path that ran nearby. The women and girls of the
village filled brass water containers at the well and then
carried home on their heads. Wow - it makes one consider the
"luxury" of running water. I splashed some water on my face from
the large container and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. It
was about 10 am and when I entered the room I met more of my
relatives. They greeted me in Italian and I tried without much
success to keep up with the conversation. I decided that Uncle
Nicola must be my translator for I did not want to embarrass
them or me with bad Italian. I asked were I could wash up. I was
directed to the wash stand outside. So I went out, found the
basin and water container and washed up. It was then that I met
Dino the next door neighbor. He too was at his wash stand waking
up. Dino was a college student at home for a holiday. He and I
would get to become great friends in the next few days for he
spoke excellent English and would be my translator when Uncle
Nicola was not around. I went back to the kitchen and ate the
breakfast, which was prepared by Aunt Ann, Uncle Nicola�s wife,
and her sister Aunt Marie two of the many relatives that I did
not even know existed. Although I was the last to arrive for
breakfast, I didn�t miss it. Breakfast, as we know it is not
eaten in Italy. It is usually a continenal breakfast of coffee
and a sweet roll. Dinner or the main meal of the day is usually
served at about 2 PM and a snack equivalent to our lunch is
eaten around 9 PM. I knew that I had a lot of adapting to do. I
then met my cousin Mario, one of Uncle Nicola�s sons - his other
son Remo was in the city of Atessa. He was a doctor of radiology
in the hospital in that city. I was of course the center of
attention and was plied with many questions about me, America
and the relatives there. I tried to answer as best as I could
but there were many concepts that were hard to express in
Italian. It was a learning experience for me as well for I now
was interacting with my relatives in our ancestral home.
Chapter Four
Dinner
The first day at Uncle Nicolas was a non-stop visitation of my family. They came to meet their American relative and also to
ask questions. Their desire to know about Americas and the
different things was the primary topic of discussion and with
Uncle Nicola as translator, I answered all the questions to the
best of my ability. A very pretty lady came into the kitchen and
after a few chuckles Uncle Nicola asked me (in Italian) if I
wanted to see all of Italia. That was a curious question and I
responded quickly that of course I did. The chuckles grew to
smiles and laughter. Uncle Nicola pointed to the lady and
introduced me to Italia Sbaraglia. I then realized that I was
the object of the chuckles. I did get to see all of Italia. She
was standing right there. Time passed quickly and before I
realized it dinnertime was at hand. All the while we were
socializing, Aunt Ann and Aunt Marie were preparing dinner. They
used an open fireplace with hanging pots and an oven built into
the side of the hearth. The fireplace was not only the primary
heater it was the main cooking device. Aunt Ann used a
two-burner propane grill to heat the expresso and such but the
vast majority of the cooking was done in the hearth. Just before
dinner was ready Father Donato arrived. He was an invited dinner
guest and was there to discuss the plans for the wedding and
reception on Saturday. We were immediate friends for he spoke
wonderful English. It was a relief to know that I did have
people there to translate for me and I did feel handicapped by
not leaning Italian as Grand pop Achille had begged me to do so
often. Had I know . . . I also discovered that Father Donato had
a strong preference for Lucky Strike cigarettes. At 2 PM dinner
was served. Father gave a benediction for the meal and a special
blessing for me. The ladies did all the cooking of course and
all the food was fresh. There was no frozen food for Aunt Ann
did not have a freezer and even if she did she would not have
used it. Fresh was the only way to cook. We ate freshly made
pasta, gravy (sauce), a salad baked stuffed artichokes, cheese,
hearth baked bread and red wine. I still remember the taste and
smell of that meal. Seconds and even thirds were mandatory. Aunt
Ann and Marie insisted on it. And if one showed any reluctance
to another helping no matter how stuffed were greeted with the
question, "What's the matter, didn't you like it?" It was
therefore considered an insult to the cook if you didn't take
another serving. I especially enjoyed the artichokes. This area
of Italy is considered artichoke country and they are abundant.
The way Aunt Marie prepared is to trim some of the outer leaves,
opening and stuffing the heart with a mixture of bread, chopped
garlic and olive oil. These are then baked in the hearth. When
done they are cut and eaten in sections - whole. The American
variety of which I lived were tough compared to these. If one
were to eat an american artichoke this way they would probably
choke. The reason the artichoke is so tender is that it was on
the bush at 1:55 PM and it was being cooked at 2 PM. They were
cut, washed, prepared and cooked within minutes of picking. I
really miss them cooked like that. After dinner everyone enjoyed
for an hour to an hour and a half of something like a siesta.
It was a mid day rest break and was enjoyed by all. Those that
did not actually take a nap respected it as quiet time. I was
to find out that there were more surprises in store for me.
Chapter 5
The rest of the day
Shortly after dinner the surprises continued. I had noticed a
television set in the great room. It was not on and I wondered
if it was working. I am not a television fanatic, but in 1958,
television was an American way of life and I wondered how the
Italian television system differed from ours. I soon learned
many surprises about Italian television. With the afternoon
�break� over by 4 - 4:30 PM, dinner was now only a delightful
memory, chores were resumed and the pace of life picked up. I
learned that in this town the pace of life is in virtual slow
motion compared to America. Things were not done in a hurry. If
anything was to be done it was planned far enough in advance to
insure completion when needed - without haste. This meant that
it did not have to be done over for it was done correctly the
first time by not rushing. The children were busy doing their
homework. Their homework was just that - work to be done at
home. And it had to be correct - or else. By the way, most of
the middle school children were studying a second language -
usually English. I felt cheated in some way. Here the teenagers
were conversant in two languages and I knew but one (and not
very well at that) and only a little of another. Getting back to
television, I later found out that in Castel Ferato there were
only two televisions. One was in the cantina and the other in
Uncle Nicola�s home. I think that the population of our village
at the time was less that 100 and televisions were very
expensive, so if one wanted to watch television one either went
to the cantina or Uncle Nicola�s home. RAI was and still is the
Italian National Radio and Television Network. It had at that
time only ONE television channel and that channel did not go on
the air until 5 PM. From 5 PM till 5:30 they aired only a test
pattern. At 5:30 PM the children�s programs began. They lasted
until 7:30 PM when for about thirty minutes they aired ONLY
commercials. At 8:00 PM the only show of the night started.
There was ONLY ONE show a night and was not interrupted by
commercials. There was a different show on each night of the
week, but only one show a night. It could have been an entire
opera, a TV game show, or a variety show. The shows repeated
weekly. The show lasted until it was over or about 11 PM. By
7:30 PM 20 to 30 visitors had arrived to watch the show in the
great room. Everyone brought a blanket to sit or lay on and his
or her own food and drink. It seems that a lunch style meal
was eaten about 8-9pm. Even with the large crowd of television
viewers, it was very quiet. Only minimal talk for this was
�television time� and it had to be enjoyed by all. The visitors
respected this and expected silence to enjoy the show. Salami,
cheese, roasted peppers, bread and other goodies were eaten
while we all watched television. I did not understand all of
what was going on of course but with commentary in English by
the visitors I managed to enjoy the show. After the show ended
everyone cleaned up not wanting to leave a mess, the kids were
awakened and all left thanking Uncle Nicola and Aunt Ann for
their hospitality. The great room suddenly seemed hollow and
empty. Well, off to bed and a good nights sleep. Uncle Nicola
told me that tomorrow we were going to the city of Torrevecchia
Teatina to visit more relatives
Chapter Six
Shopping in Castel Ferato
I awoke to another glorious sunrise. This time I was ready for
it or so I thought. I was sure that I knew enough of "the
ropes." I mean could there be any more surprises? There
certainly were. Today Uncle Nicola was going to take me to the
City of Torrevecchia Teatina and I was ready for it. Breakfast
was refreshing now that I was getting used to this pace of
living. -- Slow and easy. Maybe that is why Italian ladies are
so many beautiful- little or no stress. I must now describe the
physical layout of Castel Ferato. The village is shaped like a T
. At the top left point of the "T" is Uncle Nicolas home on the
end of the street. At the top right point of the "T" is the
church. After the end of the Town Square a path led down the
hill to the town of Ripa Teatina. Ripa Teatina is the ancestral
home of Rocky Marciano. At the junction of the "T" is the town
square. Along the length of the "T" are the homes and shops of
Castel Ferato. This was the way into Castel Ferato and the road
to Torrevecchia Teatina. The Town Square is paved with
cobblestones but the rest of the street - the only street is not
paved. The total number of vehicles in Castel Ferato at that
time was three cars, one truck, one motorcycle and several
bicycles. No need for paved roads here. No traffic jam and never
a parking problem. Behind the homes and shops were the farms and
gardens. They were not for flowers but for food. Artichokes,
wheat, grapes, olive, fig and almond trees abounded - only a few
feet from the road. As we walked along the street we stopped in
every shop - all five of them. I was introduced to everyone in
the shops and was warmly greeted by them. Each shop held another
surprise for me. For example, the butcher shop did not sell
meat! Instead the butcher took orders for meat and when he had
orders for an entire cow or pig, that animal was a slaughtered,
dressed, packaged and delivered to the customers. Guaranteed
fresh meat for he or they had no freezer or large refrigeration
to hold the meat. At the general store I saw what seemed to be
something out of the frontier west. Every thing was there,
hardware, cloth, tools nuts bolts etc. but none in any
abundance. The grocery store sold canned goods, pasta, spices,
cured olives, cheeses, and bread. All most all homemade and
likewise nothing in vast proportions as we know it. At the
tailor shop Armando the tailor insisted on custom making three
shirts for me. They were finished in a few days and each one
came with an extra collar and set of cuffs. When the collar and
or the cuffs wore out they were replaced - presto you had a new
shirt. We finally stopped in the cantina. It was owned and
operated by a cousin Rafael. It was that that I learned how to
play Bristol - a boisterous card game. It uses Italian style
cards (another surprise) and was very animated with players
quiet openly giving signals to each other as to what cards they
had and what cards they wanted their partner to play. I was also
introduced to a drink consisting of � red wine and � seven up. I
think it is called cazzosa and to this day I still drink it.
The day being warm, the company being amiable the cazzosa flowed
as fast as the questions and the cards did. Suddenly it was
dinnertime and we had to get back home. Dr. Remo was coming.
Chapter 7
Follow the yellow "dirt" road
Cousin and Doctor Remo, Uncle Nicola�s oldest son arrived
shortly before dinner and we hit it off immediately. He spoke
fluent English! He promised to take me to the hospital in Atessa
the next day. He worked there as a doctor of radiology. It would
give me a chance to see the countryside and also see the city.
Dinner was great - as usual. I cut the artichokes for this meal
for Aunt Marie had explained how to cut them. She told me that
the only choke to cut was the very top one. For if the top one
were cut the plant could then generate its growing ability to
the next highest one on the bush. If any another artichoke was
cut, not only would that one be immature but the plant would
continue to age the top one making it tough. Now I knew the
secret of tender artichokes. Conversation at dinner was centered
on America and me and I was glad to answer any and all
questions. Immediately after dinner, Uncle Nicola and I walked
straight up the street of Castel Ferato on our way to
Torrevecchia Teatina. We gave up the afternoon break to visit.
Isn�t that why I was here for to meet my family? On the way we
went to our ancestral farm, which I was told has been in our
family for centuries - back to around 1000 ad. It was there that
I met Angelo, the tenant farmer. At the time he was cultivating
a field for planting by hand with an adz. He had a small �walk
behind� tractor but he could not use it this day for he was
working under the grapevines. I asked him how long it took to
cultivate the field by hand. He really did not know. But he
assured me that it would be done in time for the planting. I saw
our fields of artichokes, grapes, wheat, olive and almond trees.
It was truly beautiful. The first place we stopped in
Torrevecchia Teatina was at the home of Aunt Rosa. She was my
grandfather Achilles older sister. At the time she was 80 years
old and was still keeping house for she lived alone since her
husband died. With Uncle Nicole as interpreter I fell in love
with her. She was precious and quite outspoken. I guess it was
her age and she knew many things. Woman�s intuition? I don�t
think so. It was living a long life and being the matriarch of
our family in Italy. I wish I had more time - a lot more time -
to interview her. What a story that would have made. Time was
flying though. We went from her home to the home of another
relative, then another and another. I lost count of the homes we
visited. But in each home, we were invited to have some of
pepperoni, cheese, biscotti, cookies and of course home- made
red wine. At each home I met more of my relatives and always
offered a glass of red wine to go with the snacks that was set
out. I had the feeling that almost everyone in Torrevecchia
Teatina was related to me. Needless to say I soon ran out of
lucky strike cigarettes because I gave them away freely to my
relatives. . Before my trip ended I was smoking Italian
cigarettes. I found out that American cigarette at that time
cost the equivalent of $3.00 a pack while Italian cigarettes
cost about 15 cents a pack. It was getting late and it soon
would be dark. Uncle Nicola insisted on going home. There were
no street lamps of course and the mile could be dangerous in
the dark. We arrived home a little tipsy from all the wine and I
decided to forgo television to get to sleep. I had to go to Atessa the next morning.
Chapter
8
Atessa
When 6 am arrived and I awoke with a slight hangover. It seems
that a little too much home made red wine does that. When I got
to the kitchen, Aunt Anna and Aunt Maria had the coffee ready. I
welcomed it as a wake up. The sweet roll was especially good.
Dr. Remo was also there and had already eaten and he was almost
ready to go. After a quick breakfast we were off toe Atessa. Dr.
Remo owned one of the
cars in Castel Ferato. It was a 4 door Lancia. We went up the
main (and only) street in Castel Ferato to the road leading to
A-14, the main road to Atessa. Along the smaller roads, Italian
traffic laws require that all motor vehicles sound their horn
when they approach a curve in the road. This is to warn the on
coming traffic. Great idea but rather noisy if you live near a
curve in the road. Dr. Remo told me of a friend of his who had
installed an air horn, like in a truck or bus uses in his Fiat
600. This car has barley enough room for 4 people but when the
horn sounded it got a lot of respect from the on coming cars --
they didn't know what to expect but from the sound of the horn
they yielded the right of way. Along the way Dr. Remo and I got
further acquainted. He had visited The United State a few times
and was familiar with its customs. He wanted to know about me.
We passed through the beautiful countryside of Abruzzo. I felt
proud to be a descendent of this lovely state of Italy. I found
Atessa to be quaint and modern at the same time. There were new
buildings next to very ancient ones. It was interesting to see
the different styles of architecture within such a close
proximity. We arrived at the hospital and Dr. Remo went about
his business. He told me that he would not be very long and that
I was to wait in the coffee shop. I enjoyed a cup of expresso
and biscotti. I tried not to open my mouth for fear of saying
the wrong thing. I meet John, an Italian medical student who
spoke English. We had a great conversation we had and I learned
a lot of things about the customs of Italy. When Dr. Remo
arrived we went off to visit a friend of his. It was a brief
visit and I enjoyed it. We left foe a tour of the city. The
sights were absorbing and I was sorry that I couldn't take
pictures of all of it. I was fascinated by his description of
the sights. We took the coastal road home and went to Chieti.
There we visited Joseph Sbaraglia, another cousin. He was a
retired police officer. He and his family were gracious and they
accepted me as part of the family as I accepted them. We left
Joseph's home and went to the waterfront. I wondered why. I soon
discovered the reason why. Dr. Remo had to buy dinner. Well, no
exactly dinner but some of it. He located and bought some
calamari; squid fresh caught right off the boat that caught it.
Aunt Anna and Aunt Maria were waiting for us as we had the main
ingredient for dinner. The spaghetti sauce (gravy) was cooking
and almost all was ready. Aunt Anna asked me to go and cut some
artichokes for dinner. Another delicious dinner was eaten and we
soon had our afternoon break. I took a nap because I needed it.
I was very tired. This pace was really hectic. Television what
night was enjoyable it was a four-hour game show and even though
I didn't get all the words I got all the actions. The ladies
were busy in the kitchen preparing things for the wedding
tomorrow and there were many things yet to be done. I could not
wait to see it. It was to be a real happening in Castel Ferato.
Chapter 9
The Wedding
Another beautiful day was beginning and I realized that it had
not rained the entire time I was here. What luck, it must have
been a good omen. It was the day of the wedding and the weather
forecasted was for a pleasant day. It turned out to be pleasant
in more ways than one. When I got to the kitchen for breakfast
Aunt Ann, Aunt Marie and a few of the other cousins were busy
baking cookies and cooking various foods. Now that doesn't sound
like such a big deal right? But consider this -- all the baking
and cooking was being done on a hearth -- a wood-burning
fireplace with an oven built into the side. Now you could
appreciate all the labor that was involved in order to cook some
of the cookies, and various dishes that were to feed about 200
guests at the wedding dinner. There were at the same time other
households doing the same thing as their contribution to the
amazing feast that was to follow the wedding. The wedding
ceremony took place from noon till about 1 PM in the church of
Castel Ferrato. After the ceremony, the Town Square was jammed
with many relatives, guests and well wishers. They all formed a
procession to follow the bride and groom to an area next to the
cantina where the tables were set for dinner. It was in the open
but would later move inside to the church hall. Toasts were
profuse and unending. But there was a sufficient amount or red
and white wine that did not run out -- all day and night. The
citizens of Castel Ferrato acted as servers. They brought in the
food that was prepared for the wedding, cleared and washed the
dishes, and kept the wine and water flowing. This was their
present to the bride and groom for they were all related to one
or the other. There were many foods prepares and served such as
antipasto, different kinds of pasta, meatballs and sausage.
Roast beef, pork and veal was served. Fresh bread cheeses and
peppers both hot and sweet. The dinner went on and on lasting
for about 4 hours with the food and wine out pacing the
conversation. Who had time to talk? The feast then moved into
the church hall where there was dessert, dancing and drinking. I
became a "star" for all the ladies wanted to dance with the
American cousin. It was a whirlwind of dancing, meeting and
greeting
newfound relatives and friends with DR Remo or Uncle Nicola as
interpreter, of course. I really did not know how to dance but
the ladies did not mind and were glad to teach me and I soon
learn enough to get by. The men did not mind either. As I was
popular with the ladies they then had time to play cards, drink
a few (and maybe more) glasses of wine or just talk to their
friends and neighbors. By 1 AM almost all had gone home. I
insisted on helping to restore the church hall and Uncle
Nicola's home. We were finished by 2 AM and by that time the
feather bed looked wonderful. I had only 1 more full day before
I was to leave my ancestral home to return to the Air Force
Base, my home away from home.
Chapter 10
Going "Home"
I
awoke Sunday with a headache - all over my body. I had quite an
active day at the wedding and the festival. Although tired and
sore I felt great. That was a day that I would always remember.
After breakfast I went to church with Aunt Ann and Aunt Maria.
The Mass was said in Latin and to my surprise Father Donato
delivered a little farewell sermon for me in English. Uncle
Nicola had translated it to him. I was
impressed and touched. So were the attendees at the Mass. Almost
all of Castel Ferrato was in church. I learned later that there
was only one Mass said on any Sunday because Father Donato was
the only priest in this small parish. After Mass we went 'home'
and while I rested up from the day before, the ladies prepared
my "Last Supper." It was the last dinner I was to eat here. It
was a little special and truly delicious as usual. A few of the
cousins joined us for this dinner. I spent the afternoon packing
and getting ready to leave. Later I went to the cantina for a
cazzosa. I tried to understand the lively conversation that was
going on about politics. I could not keep up with the men either
in language translation or the concepts they were discussing. It
was a different political system then America. I decided to take
a walk up the 'Street.' I wanted to absorb as much of Castel
Ferrato as I could for I was leaving the next day and I knew
that if I ever returned to Castel Ferrato, it would not be the
same as it was now - peaceful and quiet.
Most of the town people that were out and about greeted me with
in special kind of way. It felt good to be a stranger to them
but still receives warm greetings from them. They were my
ancestors ho just a short while ago were totally unknown to me.
I walked al the way into Torrevecchia Teatina before I turned
around for home meeting and greeting friends and relatives along
the way. TV time that night was as not unusual but as the
visitors left they were sad to see me leave Castel Ferrato. I
was sad to leave them also for I knew it would be a long time
before I got to see them again - if ever. Our family had a
longer that usual chat before we went to bed. I went once more
to that wonderful feather bed for I knew that I would not sleep
on anything that luxurious for quite a while. I finished packing
after breakfast the next day. With many sad good-byes Dr Remo,
Uncle Nicola and I were off to the train station in Pescara in
his Lancia. They waited with me until my train arrived and with
fond embraces I promised to relay their love to my family in
America. I got on the train with a heavy heart. On the way to
Rome I enjoyed some of the "goodies" that were prepared for me
to for my train trip. After changing trains in Rome, I went took
a nap. When I woke we were near Nancy, France where I had to get
off the train. I then took the military bus to the Toul Rosiers
Air Force Base. Finally, I was back 'home' my home away from
home but my heart and mind were still in Castel Ferrato with my
relatives. The memory of them and their love has lasted these
40 years and I still miss them just now as the day I left. There
was one bright note to my trip to Castel Ferrato - I did get to
see all of Italia - Italia Sbaraglia that is.
THE END |
of
South Philly
