52 Ancestors Week 48: Gratitude

 Week 48's theme is "Gratitude." In the US, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving on Thursday. Is there a family history memory that you're especially grateful for? What is a discovery you're grateful to have found or a resource you're grateful to use?

It was honestly a toss-up between this and a "We are the World" image.

    Thanksgiving is right around the corner and I can tell you that I have many great Thanksgiving memories with my family. We would have my grandmother Ollie over and have a huge feast. We would have turkey and all the trimmings along with lasagna with sausages, meatballs and of course loads of Italian goodies and pie for dessert. It was a typical Italian-American dinner with family. Italians, of course, don't celebrate Thanksgiving as Americans do. So, we adapted and we went all out and I loved every minute of it! Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because I spent it with family and we'd have a good time. It was also a good time to share family history.

    One thing's for sure, I am definitely grateful for having my grandparents around for the holidays so that they could share those delicious nuggets of wisdom with the family over dinner. I also had my great-aunts and uncles around as well. When you grow up in an Italian or even a French-Canadian household, you learn very quickly that family is very important and when someone unfortunately passed away we would still have the gettogethers as if they never left us.

Grandma Ollie

       Those relatives, of course, all provided a veritable gold mine of genealogical information. Remember a few months ago when I discussed the times I would go over to my grandma Ollie's house and see her and her sisters gathered around the table? Well, take that. Add lasagna and maybe a little vino and you get a lot more information out of the family member of your choice!

   Having my grandmother, her sisters and my great-aunt on my dad's paternal side around meant that I would have easy access to info on my Italian side even though Grandpa Marco had passed away long before I could remember the gatherings. 

    Most of the time I didn't really have to ask questions. I would just sit and listen while I was stuffing my face. Don't get me wrong. I would still ask. I was one of those kids who constantly asked questions. I can remember some of the conversations pretty well because they were pretty funny. Sometimes they went a little like this:

Grandma Ollie: Oh, did you hear Rocco's son, Joseph?

Aunt Louise: What about them? Are they still in Melrose?

Ten year old me: Who's Rocco?

    And then they'd tell me about Rocco being their uncle and how the family came from Gesualdo. They didn't have a picture of him on hand. So they'd promise to show me later. One of my great-aunts was actually afraid of him a little bit because he was kind of tense. And as fate would have it I eventually got a DNA match WITH one of Joseph's grandkids.

    See how just letting people talk just opens up that gold mine of information? The same thing tended to happen with my great-aunt Nicole. She sent me various letters and talk to me on the phone since she lived far away. We did end up visiting her in 2004 and I remember having a great time listening to her stories over the week we spent at her house.

Grandpa and Grandpa Hamel

    At the risk of sounding repetitive, my grandparents on my mother's side would also freely provide information. No one had anything to hide. It was odd because you always hear about in dramas how some families have this deep, dark secret that must NEVER BE REVEALED! Now, granted some families are like that. It does happen. And when it does, you really need to be careful about cracking open Pandora's box if you know what I mean.

    The information everyone provided me over the years has been great and I am grateful that my family freely offered the information. While my Italian side was great with oral history, my mom's parents really shined when it came down to written history. My grandmother had written a genealogy book that went fairly far back and it helped me get started on my genealogical adventure. 

    I guess the point I am trying to make with this blog is that holidays are a great time to get genealogical information. My only regret is not sharing what I learned with them after their passing. It's okay, though because I'm sure they know somehow and I could always tell other family members what I learned. I am immensely grateful to them for being open about everything. Sometimes the stories would be sad. Sometime the stories would be funny. Still, they are stories that should be cherished and I'm grateful for them for sharing the good, the bad and being involved in one or two of them myself. Some, I don't think I should repeat here! Talk about ones that "NEVER SHOULD BE REVEALED!!"

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 47: Good Deeds

From Amy Johnson Crow:  Week 47's theme is "Good Deeds." Do you know about an ancestor's good deeds? Maybe someone did a good deed for you that led to a family history discovery? Deeds could also refer to land records. So many possibilities this week!

Like those superheroes? Check 'em out at http://starbolts.blogspot.com

  As the old saying goes, "A good deed is its own reward". That's true. But, I'm a bigger fan of "with great power there must also come great responsibility". Thanks, Stan Lee! It's a true statement that isn't confined to the pages of Marvel comics and in general it's a good philosophy to have. What Stan meant when he wrote those immortal words into the pages of Amazing Fantasy #15 was that if a person has the ability to do great things, they have a moral obligation to do them without the need for personal gain, fame or even thanks. Who said comics can't teach you something?

From "Italians in Haverhill"

    Let's turn to a real world application of this philosophy shall we? Meet my third great-uncle, Giovanni Coppola. Born in San Pietro a Maida, Italy in 1875, Giovanni or John was among the first on my Italian side to arrive in Haverhill, Massachusetts in the early 1900s. Once he settled in town, he became a grocer and believe it or not his store still stands today!

    You might be thinking "Okay. He was a grocer. What did he do that can be considered a "good deed"?" Well, aside from feeding people in his neighborhood, he paid the way for many of his relatives to come to America. Without him, their lives would have been dramatically different because life in southern Italy at the time was no picnic since there was poverty and the government instituted policies that favored the northern part of the country than the rest. It's one of the primary reasons why so many Italians left Italy in the first place.

    According to the book "Italians in Haverhill", he came to America in 1905 and worked in shoe shops before opening his grocery store on High Street in 1915. Once he did so, he sent for his wife Natalina , his daughter Angelina and several other members of the family. He wasn't done, though. Southern Italy suffered a tremendous loss of life during the Messina earthquake that claimed many lives on December 28th, 1908 including one of his children.

    At that point, Giovanni sent for more members of his family in San Pietro including his sister, Concetta, a brother named Paolo and he even paid the way for two of his first cousins Rosamaria and Marianna Stella to come to America. Once I found all this information out, I wondered why he did this. Loneliness in America? He was one of the first in the family to arrive in Haverhill. Or was there a more altruistic reason why he brought so many people to Haverhill. It had to have cost him a TON of money! Perhaps his family chipped in?

Also from "Italians in Haverhill".

    It's hard to say. Shortly after Concetta arrived, her nephew Vincenzo came to America for the first time. And the rest, as they say, is history. 

    It's clear to me that Giovanni paved the way for all of these people to come to America. Many of them most likely came on his dime or chipped in. It's hard to say. My family isn't really sure. What we are sure of is that we probably owe him a debt of gratitude. Without him, things would have been incredibly different and I more than likely wouldn't be here typing this blog. 

    This wasn't an isolated incident of course. Immigrants from every corner of the globe had a similar strategy. You go to America. Make money. Send that money to family back home. Sometimes the first person would ask "Hey. Would you like to stay in America and raise a family?" Chances are they'd say yes because "La Miseria" was in high gear in Italy at the time and many elected to stay in America.

    "With great power, there must come great responsibility" applies in this instance because Giovanni saw an opportunity for his family to have a better life in America than the one they could have had in Italy. He was making a name for himself in the so-called "land of opportunity". His family members should have the same fate. If he was living his best life as a grocer in Haverhill, other people should have the same opportunity rather than live in abject poverty. He likely had a moral obligation to help everyone.

    Who's to say if he really did or didn't? This is just conjecture. The point is that he did a good thing by inviting family to America. He essentially saved their lives if you think about it. He started the Coppola family's adventure in America by paving the way for their arrival. I do wonder a few things, though. Why did Vincenzo's parents, Marco and Caterina stay in Italy? Those are questions I should probably ask my family. I guess someone had to stay behind.

    I have other examples of good deeds scattered around the tree. Some, I've even found in newspapers. I might talk about them in further detail. I just felt that talking about how my relative helped to bring so many of his family members from Italy to Haverhill was in effect its own good deed. It's no easy task paying for just your trip to America. But, almost a dozen? That's pretty amazing to me! I wish I knew the exact details because it's really exciting to think about. This could make for a good movie! So, go check out your tree and see what good deeds are out there.

Editor's note: In April of 2023, I found that Giovanni Coppola was not the brother of Paolo, Caterina and Concetta Coppola. He is likely a first cousin of the three. Look for details in a future blog post.

Images of Google Earth are property of Google Earth.

52 Ancestors Week 46: Different Laguage

 Di Amy Johnson Crow: Week 46's theme is "Different Language." Have you thought about the experiences of ancestors who moved to an area where the language they spoke was considered "different"? Have you worked with any documents that were in a different language than the one you speak?

Should have included Klingon.

    Ciao! Essendo mezzo italiano, ho sempre pensato a com'era per i miei antenati trasferirsi in un'area in cui la lingua era prevalentemente inglese. 

    On peut certainement dire la même chose de mes ancêtres qui sont venus en Amérique du Québec. J'utilise clairement Google Translate à ce stade. Mon français n'est pas * CE * bon. =)

    Translation from Italian to English: Ciao! Being half Italian, I've always thought about what it was like for my ancestors to move into an area where the language was predominantly English. 

    Translation from French to English: The same can certainly be said for my ancestors who have come to America from Quebec. I'm clearly using Google Translate at this point. My French isn't *THIS* good. =)

    I'm really going to have fun with this one. I even thought about writing this blog completely in Italian with a translation afterward. I quickly realized that it'd be exhausting to actually go through and translate everything. That said, I can definitely say yes to both of Amy's questions in the prompt. Although, I tend to have an easier time with the Italian records than with the ones written in French.

Mi nonno, Marco Ferraiolo

    You can blame high school and college Spanish classes for that. Spanish and Italian are more similar to each other than say Italian and French. It's weird because Italian, French and Spanish all have Latin origins. Still, I've always had an easier time reading Italian than I do with French. I think that's something I'm going to have to work on in the future.

    Learning a different language is going to be hard for everyone. Can you appreciate how hard it is for people to learn English? English is one of the hardest languages to learn and sometimes people in English-speaking countries take it for granted. We have "their", "they're" and "there" and they all sound the same when spoken. The same thing happens with "your" and "you're". The English language is complicated and for any immigrant in any time period it can be really hard to master. That isn't to say it's impossible to learn a new language. You certainly can if you put the time and effort into it. My great-grandparents did!

  My grandfather, Marco, came to America when he was very young. He was four years old in 1929 when he arrived in New York with his mother and sister. Since they were fresh off the boat, the probably didn't know the language and I am willing to bet that her husband Vincenzo or another member of the family helped them with learning English. Vincenzo had been living in America for some time and knew some English. Who taught him, you ask? Hard to say. It might have been his aunt Concetta or his uncle Giovanni since they were in America before he arrived.

    Despite learning English, the family most likely struggled to assimilate with the American way of life as anti-immigrant sentiment was rampant in the 1920s. Still, they managed to learn the language and more often than not spoke their native tongue at home. Of course, this led to interesting results in the 1920 to 1940 census. The languages they spoke would be mentioned. Vincenzo had a very thick accent and I'm sure enumerators had a hard time understanding what he was saying. This is why my last name "Ferraiolo" shows up in different variations. I was only able to find them in Haverhill because I knew where they lived.                                                                                                                                                                      

Mi nonna Olympia Carrabs

    

    Even my paternal grandmother, who was born in America, had parents who were also Italian 

immigrants. However, the difference between her and Grandpa Marco was that she didn't have to assimilate and had five older siblings who helped her learn the language. She and her sisters did speak Italian on occasion and it was where I learned most of the basics. "Hi" and the like. I remember her getting excited about me learning Spanish. I was never sure why. But, looking back I think I get it. She was excited to know that I was learning another language. It's just a shame my high school never offered Italian. They did at college! I just couldn't fit it into my schedule.

    Italian immigrants tended to teach other Italian immigrants English and that was usually why Italian neighborhoods were formed in cities all across the United States. They also came together for other reasons such as shared discrimination. However, the primary reason was that they spoke the same language at home and used Italian to teach others English. It was a good coping mechanism for your newly arrived Italian immigrant who needed to find a job in a place that was foreign to them. 

    Now we come to my mother's side.

Mon arrière-grand-mère, Henrietta Legault.

    My mother has often told me that her grandmother, Henrietta, would always speak in French when her sisters were visiting. Apparently, she didn't want her and her siblings to hear what they were talking about. However, the joke was on Henrietta. My mother took many French classes in school and ended up being fairly fluent in it.

  This actually came in handy later in Henrietta's life because she suffered a stroke and ended up speaking only in French up until the day she died. While I'm sure her husband, Austin, knew a few words and could help out. It had to have been handy to have a granddaughter around who could translate what she was saying.

 I suppose that's the extent of the French on that side. I don't really remember my grandfather speaking French. However, because he traveled all over the world while in the service, he spoke many different languages. 

    The Hamels and the Laplantes were in America a long time and knew the language. Of course this didn't stop my uncle or my mother from learning French. It just wasn't spoken at home. Obviously, the Legault family kept the French language going in their family and passed the knowledge down to the current generation. 

    Learning a new language can be difficult for some and people need to remember that. I greatly admire teachers like my Spanish teachers in high school and my cousin Francesco's wife who teaches English in Italy. Learning how to communicate with one another is a great way to open doors and forge lasting relationships. Our ancestors likely had a tough time assimilating and adjusting to the American way of life. It was just as much a struggle for them as it is for immigrants in the present day. We need to keep that in mind when talking to someone from all corners of the globe.

    Italian and French were definitely not the only language immigrants spoke in Haverhill, Massachusetts when they arrived in the city. Other people helped our ancestors to learn our language and perhaps we should pay it forward to today's immigrants.   

Ciao! Bonjour! See ya next time!

Editor's note: In April of 2023, I found that Giovanni Coppola was not the brother of Paolo, Caterina and Concetta Coppola. He is likely a first cousin of the three. Look for details in a future blog post.

52 Ancestors Week 45: Bearded

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 45's theme is "Bearded." Did you know that some men celebrate "No Shave November" (or, as some call it, "Novembeard")? This would be a great time to write about the bearded or mustachioed people on the family tree.

And not one of these are a ZZ Top beard. Bummer

    Facial shrubbery is the topic this week and my personal experience with it is a bit lackluster. My brother and I never grew beards and I certainly don't plan on growing them. They just seem too itchy for my tastes. I have friends who have beards and they are really hard to maintain according to them! My father, on the other hand, grew a full beard in 2002. That lasted all of six months. At least it's forever immortalized in my brother's wedding album!

Decent beard. Nice ears.

     When it comes to my ancestors and beards, I have a couple direct ones that have had mighty beards that commanded respect, evoked thoughtfulness and dignity. Or maybe they were trying to be hipsters before hipsters were a thing? This fist one is of John Sargent Fisher, my 4th great-grandfather. At first glance he looks like that shovel-wielding guy from the first "Home Alone" movie. But, like in that movie looks can be deceiving. Check out the write-up on Johnny. Does that honestly look like the guy who'd whack ya with a shovel? If anything he'd be at the Malden library looking for a tome to throw. =)

     Nah. Johnny was a good guy. At least I think he was. I didn't know him personally. It's just my mind immediately went to that next door neighbor from the first "Home Alone" when I first saw his picture. Nice looking guy, though. The beard suits him in that old timey grandpa sort of way.

    And speaking of "old timey grandpas", up next in this parade of facial hair is Jeremiah Felker and his wife, Elizabeth! 

Please edit this photo.

    Jeremiah Smart Felker's beard makes him look like Santa a bit doesn't it? Yes, I'll be using a lot of pop culture references in this blog. Go with it! I wish the photo was in better shape. I have this plan to maybe draw the picture. The problem is I cannot draw people very well. I'm also concerned that I might miss some details. At least there are plenty of artists on places like deviantart who'd take a commission. 

Heh. Now I'm imagining the two looking like anime characters. Kidding! There are other types of artists on that website. 

His beard, like Johnny's, seems evocative of the style at the time. Men in the late 19th century had beards that were thick because they wanted to appear manly. Also, they probably wanted to hide various scars or something. Who knows what lays underneath the beard? What a mystery!

    Collateral relatives on my mother's side seem to all have moustaches to a varying degree. My 2x great grandmother's sister's husband had a very thick moustache. His name was Noah Robidoux and his 'stache reminded me of Luigi. 

    This might be due to the fact that this guy was skinny. Like REALLY skinny. It was probably just how he was standing.

    Mighty moustaches were more the thing my dad's maternal side had. My great-grandfather, Giuseppe Carrabs had a great moustache. However, his brother Rocco really had a 'stache of steel.  I mean LOOK!

Rocco is the first from the left.

    Rocco had a moustache that seemed to be the typical Italian guy 'stache. Thick and hard to maintain. My father even had a moustache like that in the 1980s to early 1990s when he decided to just shave it off. My 2x great-grandfather, Antonio Tedesco seemed to be the exception to the rule. He had a comparatively thinner 'stache which kind of reminds me of a Bond villain for some reason. I don't know why. Check it out for yourself!

Antonio and Domenica

    This has been a really quick tour of the history of facial hair in my family hasn't it? Quick and probably a little entertaining. Facial hair like beards and moustaches have always been seen as a status symbol for guys. It just isn't really my thing. Would I grow one? Probably not. It just seems like too much of a hassle, like I said. Yeah. Some guys don't want to grow beards. Shocking, I know!

    Still, it's good to look back and see the guys who all decided to have some hair on their faces. They add some character to a person's face and like I said it's a statement. But, I am a bit dismayed. Not one of these guys has a ZZ-TOP beard! I mean Jeremiah comes close with his covering his neck. The same can be said for Johnny!

    John was a musician, too. So, it could have worked! Of course it depends on what instrument he played. Bass guitar players need to have long flowing beards that are clean. It's like a musician's law that I just made up.

    Anyway, this whirlwind tour of beards in my family was brought to you by Norelco razors. You can't buy a closer shave.

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 44: Scary Stuff

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 44's theme is "Scary Stuff." Any ghost stories in your family lore? Any relatives live in a haunted house? Of course, you don't have to go with ghosts for the theme. I look forward to seeing how everyone interprets this theme

Most metal header EVER!

    Halloween 2020 is coming and even though the year has been scary by itself, the day (night) is one of my favorite holidays of the year. It's right up there with Christmas and Thanksgiving. Like many kids, I had a fun time trick or treating and since I was a kid in the '80s I dressed up as one of the best Transformers ever. I dressed up as the one and only....Snarl of the Dinobots. What? Did you think I dressed up as Optimus Prime? If only, dear readers. If only. Everyone and their brother dressed up as Prime that year!

    I digress. Last year, I discussed the possibility of my grandmother's ghost still hanging around and the ghost I happened to run into when I went to a wedding in upstate New Hampshire. Check out the blog here.....if you dare! This year, we're going to do things a bit differently. Recently I discovered something moderately scary in my genealogical adventure and I'd love to share it with everyone. I dunno if it's scary but it could be!

In the mood for a swim?

    I was browsing the Newburyport newspaper archives online and I thought I should search for my great-grandparents, Austin Felker and Henrietta Legault.  I know. They lived in Haverhill. Why would they be in a neighboring city? Hmm. Why indeed? Could it be that West Newbury is the only town that separates the two and they are within driving distance? I figured why not. What could I find? What's the harm in looking?

    Well, I found something I thought was a little scary and maybe a little funny given the history of the river. In June of 1930, my great-grandparents and Austin's half brother, George were thrown from their skiff and into the water after it collided with a Coast Guard picket boat.

According to the article, they struck the boat while it was clearing the channel of all craft. There was a thunderstorm coming and a coal steamer wanted to get up river with its cargo of coal. The coast guard cruiser was hanging around several small boats in the water and in the confusion, the skiff hit the larger boat and capsized! The three victims were tossed overboard and a sailor named Norman O'Brian dove into the water and assisted my great-grandmother, first. Huh. And they say chivalry is dead.  (Wait. It was 1930. Chivalry wasn't dead, yet. It was on life support.)

Gross....

    The reason why this could be a little scary is because my grandmother was three years old at the time. She could have easily had been on that boat with them and most three year olds don't know how to swim. I'm sure Sailor Normie would have saved her first. But, still! It's amazing how one single event can change the course of history. Imagine if she DID go! I'd....rather not think about it to be honest.

    At least everyone was fine. I wish the article was a bit more specific about where in the river they were. As you know, I grew up near the river and my parents have a boat docked in Salisbury. From the sound of things, it looks like the incident may have occurred at the mouth of the river. That's where the Coast Guard station is. That's where big ships like that coal steamer would have to enter the river.

    To this day there are small craft advisory buoys around the mouth to protect small boats from much bigger ones and there are lanes in and out of the river people have to go through in order to get where you're going. The river is also known for being one of the most treacherous rivers in the northeast. It's not a good place for a skiff! Even in the comfort of the cabin of my dad's boat, I was still knocked around quite a bit coming home from a fishing expedition while it was sunny and warm! The mouth gets extremely choppy even on warm sunny days! That's why if you really want to use a small boat, you go up the river. Do not go down stream! The article above is one reason why!

    Another scary thought is that during this time period the Merrimack River was NOT clean at all.  During the 1930s, it was still used to power mills from Concord, NH to Newburyport, Mass. Imagine the pollutants going downstream and into the ocean. Gross. Even when I was a kid, I swam in the river like once or twice and that was after cleaning efforts were made in the 1970s and 1980s. The river is a bit cleaner now thanks to the Clean Water Act. But, there are still guidelines enforced by the Environmental Protection Agency. To this day they're still fishing cars from the river. It even gets gross looking when it rains. Time will tell if that river is ever pristine again. Upriver seems to be okay. Downstream still has a ways to go.

    I've told my mother and her brothers and sisters about the story and they all laughed....which was oddly unsettling. My family is weird. I've gotten used to it. My uncle said that he and his brothers and sisters probably used the same skiff when they fished for flounder in the mouth. That doesn't surprise me. Wooden ships are built to last. My mother told me about how they dug up clams at the beach and use them as bait.

    Reading the story gives me a sobering thought. A slight change could have altered history forever. Where was my grandmother during this afternoon of excitement on the Merrimack? She was probably being looked after by a family member back in Haverhill. I'd rather not think of her going on the trip with them.

   

    The main takeaway here is to always have a life jacket when you are boating and to not hit a coast guard cruiser. That's true in any time period! That and to not swim in the Merrimack unless you really, really have to! Gross.

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 43: Quite the Character

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 43's theme is "Quite the Character." The clown. The eccentric. The one who follows the beat of a different drummer. Who is that person in your family tree?  

I may have played too much Super Smash Bros.

Picking the clown or the eccentric in my family is a bit of a trick. Who's responsible for my sense of humor?! Is it my dad with his jokes? Is it my mom with her sarcasm? I honestly don't know because as a family we've had a lot of laughs. This extends outward to my extended family, too. My cousins are all a little loony in various ways. Maybe we're all just crazy? There's got to be something in the water here in the Merrimack Valley. I won't say I was the class clown in school. I won't deny it, either. =)

I might have to go outside the box on this one and go with various friends of the family who were like family to me. Back in August, I blogged about the chosen family. In it, I talked about how family friends Peter and Mary Matorian watched over my brother and I while my parents were at work. They were a great couple. But, they were also quite the characters! That's not who I am going to talk about.

Hey! It's cold out here!

Meet Alfred Joseph Coppola. He was DEFINITELY quite the character. Trust me. He was born in 1939 in Lawrence, Massachusetts to Joseph Coppola and Virginia Zappala. He was an insurance agent by trade. But, despite the dryness of his occupation, he could tell you some good stories and some great jokes. Jokes, I don't think I should repeat!

My parents met him ages ago in the distant year of 1979! He was always a brother to my father because both were only children. Because of that, my brother and I always called him "Uncle Al" and his wife "Aunt Connie".  Their kids became like my cousins and along with another Italian "uncle" and his kids we became.....The Salami Club!

I'm not sure where "The Salami Club" name came from. I'm 99% sure it was his idea. 

Now the reason why I picked him for the "Quite the character" prompt is simple. Uncle Al loved to troll me. For example, on my 21st birthday he gave me twenty-one one dollar bills. When I saw the wad of cash, I was excited. Who wouldn't be? I had just turned 21. I was legally allowed to partake in adult beverages under American law. Uncle Al said to me "Chris, I have something for you!" He takes out this wad of cash and I was like "AWESOME!" Money is good. Money gets you stuff.

I look at the stuff and see that it was all one dollar bills! His troll level was expert.

The Salami Club circa 1979.

Uncle Al wasn't just a joker. He was a good guy and even though we wasn't related to us, he and my dad had a lot in common. One time I was visiting and he and my father took a long walk around the block. His daughter, Jennifer, and I noticed something odd. Both he and my dad were walking at the same pace, cantor and wobble. They had the same exact walk! It was hilarious!

When they came back in the house, I quickly told my dad and Al that they had the same walk. Al said "Hey, It's an Italian thing. What do ya want?"

Aside from his jokes and everything, he was a great person to talk to about any topic. He was a great fisherman, like my father, and a gracious host whenever we stopped by and that was quite frequently! The family would come over for Christmas eve dinner. We would go over for New Year's Eve. We would have a lot of fun. 

One Christmas eve, I got a present from another one of my parents' friends. It was this bright red plastic periscope from Fisher Price. I was like fifteen at the time. I look at it and looked at my parents in confusion. I didn't want to be rude. Al said "Hey, you can still use it to peak around corners or something."

I said "It's not very conspicuous! I think I'd be spotted easily!"

"Well, it's the thought that counts!"

He had an excellent point of course. He always did. He passed away in 2017 and I still keep in touch with his family. The things I remember the most about Uncle Al was that he always had a joke, a funny story or a gag to pull on me.  He was a nice guy and always happy to be a surrogate uncle to my brother and I since we didn't have any Italian aunts or uncles. He was the best and I still miss him. 

That twenty-one one dollar bills gag. That was hilarious! 

The grumpy old Italian men. Sam, Carl, Al and my dad.

52 Ancestors Week 42: Proud

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 42's theme is "Proud." Who is an ancestor that you are proud of? What about an ancestor who did something they should have been proud of? Maybe a discovery that you're proud you made because it was so hard to find?

Pride gets you a participation trophy! KUDOS!

Pride is a very interesting emotion. Too much of it and it counts as one of the seven deadly sins. Not enough and people wonder if you're ever happy about anything. The trick, like most things in life, is to find a healthy balance between one extreme or the other. In genealogy, though, I've been proud of many things I've found and even prouder of certain ancestors of mine. I'm actually proud of all of them. But, there are two special ones who I am definitely proud of!

Who is that adorable baby? ;)

 My paternal grandparents, Marco Ferraiolo and Olympia Carrabs are the ones I'm really, truly proud of. I'm not saying I'm not proud of the others. I am. But, let me explain why those two stand out among the rest. 

We start with my grandpa Marco. I've already talked about how he was born in San Pietro a Maida, Italy in 1925 to Vincenzo Ferraiolo and Maria Tedesco. In 1929, his father sent for his wife and two children who were living there to come live with him in Haverhill, Massachusetts. 

At four years old, Marco traveled across the Atlantic with his mother and six year old sister and once he came to America the family made a life for themselves in the city.

It couldn't have been easy. As a child, he had to learn English quickly and adapt to the American way of life. He likely had to face discrimination because there were a lot of anti-Italian sentiment in the first half of the twentieth century.  I'm not sure how prevalent it was in Haverhill at the time. It still had to have been rough for him and his parents. Upon further research, I've found that overall Italians were not considered white until the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Italians and immigrants in general had a very hard time dealing with discrimination and prejudice.

In the end, Marco ended up doing very well. He grew up and enlisted as a paratrooper in the second world war. In the letters he wrote back to his sister, he explained what being a paratrooper was like. I mentioned this before several times. He was scared. But, he didn't let the fear control him and I'm proud of him for that. He even earned a Purple Heart. He left the service as a private and that's still something to be proud of. He served in Italy. So, you could say he was attempting to free his birth country from the clutches of Benito Mussolini! HAH! I found a loophole! You can't take that away from me! 

Marco also made it possible for his son, my father, to go to college. Since that was something he never did. He got to see his son become a dentist, get married and have two grandsons. Pretty sweet deal.  My father ended up being a first generation Italian-American as his father was born in Italy and his mother was born in Massachusetts as the daughter of two Italian immigrants. 

Grandma Ollie, glass ceiling smasher

Olympia Carrabs, like her husband Marco, was the offspring of Italian immigrants who lived in Haverhill. However, there were several key differences. Her parents, Giuseppe Carrabs and Clementina Forgione were born in Gesualdo, Italy. That town is far from San Pietro as it's in Campania with 344 kilometers between the towns!

I'm proud of my grandmother because she was a working mother at a time when most women were expected to be stay-at-home housewives. She and her husband worked very hard to make a great life for their son.

Grandma Ollie worked for AT & T as a supervisor and was a member of the Pioneers of AT & T and graduated high school in the late 1930s. 

During that time period, it was unusual for women to be away from home and learning about various things in school. But, like my other grandmother, she stuck with school and graduated. Not bad, huh?

After my grandfather's death in 1983, she still managed to be both grandmother AND grandfather to my brother and I. She lived by herself in her own house until the day she died. But, she never seemed to let loneliness get to her. She always had a smile and was always happy to see us and tell us stories. We lived not to far from her so we frequently visited her and her sisters also stopped by very frequently. She was never alone and had great stories to tell. Not to mention great cooking. 

My grandparents make me proud of my Italian heritage. I've learned about their struggles and while it definitely wasn't easy growing up in a New England town, you can bet that they made the best of any situation because they had family with them. It isn't just a saying that "family is everything". It's actually very true. 

See ya next time!