There are been many changes in the family over the past year or so. Most pre-eminent was the passing of Mary's husband, Helene's father, Al Hanson. Mercifully, for both himself and his family, his was a short decline. I did not know him well, rather I knew of him from bits and pieces in other family stories. While he may not have figured in some of the more dramatic familial escapades, his quiet life was a sincere testimony of a commitment to work, charity, and family. I am certain we all share a heartfelt sympathy for his wife and child.
When Pierina passed, her brother, John had a renewed interest in writing down some of the family stories. Mary had said that she would get together with he and I once that Christmas and holiday season had been gotten through. One thing or another got in the way of us sitting down and going through whatever family photos and stories she may have. I had hoped that we would be able to do so in the very near future.
One thing that did work out and is reflected in the title of this piece, is that I gave my Ancestry.com login to John and Cheryl. This has proven most useful as Cheryl has been methodically adding onto the John Paul Cappiali tree over the past few months. She has even added some photos from one of the early trips back to Sardinia. Since John and Cheryl have recently returned from their first trip there, that may have been the trigger.
I am asking that each branch of the family who has some of the older photos to please contact Cheryl and see if she will upload them to the tree. This way some of our more farflung relations can see what others have put up and perhaps learn more about the family as well. Cheryl has added her side to the tree and I am hoping that the other women who have joined the family will do so as well. Contrary to popular Cappiali male belief, the women are equal, if not greater contributors to the lineage than they themselves. That the wives have managed to survive the Cappadoste males is proof enough of their strength. It is also proof that they can withstand the barrage of chat for which their mates are noted.
So, let us join forces and begin to scan and post some of these pictures either to this blog or to the tree.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Friday, May 15, 2009
Little's Autobiography
What is there to be said about the fourth generation?
It's a funny thing when you are asked to update the blog so your son can have material for his school "autobiography". I did point out that the "auto" implied that he should be writing this himself. His response was that he could not remember much prior to age 5. Impelled by the circular logic of a teenage boy, this bit will concentrate on those early years.
He was a cute kid. He was a smart kid. Turning him upside down solved most problems. It made him laugh. Keeping him clean was an entirely different proposition. Inevitably, he found a way to be covered in some type of questionable or contraband material. Equally inevitably, he did this within an hour of his bio-mom coming to pick him up. We often wondered how he managed to fine-tune it so well well before he could tell time. My suspicion was that elder siblings contributed heavily.
One of his more memorable moments came through a routine enrollment at summer camp at Hamiliton Avenue School by said bio-mom. So off to daycare summer camp he went. The system was to break the kids up into groups and give each team a color. The boy was told to come in that color the next day. His group was given green. Okay, happy, happy, joy, joy, another wonderful kid moment, we'd find him a green tee shirt and everything would be fine. He got home to our house after camp and his mother was to pick him up after dinner. We ate and then he went to his room to get his things ready.
A little bit too much time passed, it was too quiet in the direction of his room, something triggered that radar one acquires along with kids. I went to check. Pushing the door to his room open, I was greeted by the sight of a naked child. But he wasn't simply naked. He was naked and bright green. Bright Kelly green from head to toe...hair, face, front, back, just about every square inch of available skin.
He had taken green tempura paint and had coated himself. The only place he missed was the middle of his back and only that because I came in too soon. True to his mechanically adept genetics, it appeared that he had already worked out a mechanism for application involving a long paintbrush and a hand towel. I had to laugh. His dad snatched him up and holding him at arm's length, still dripping in some spots and flaking in others, (tempura dries quickly) he rushed him to the tub.
The baby (he was somewhere between 3 & 4) was infuriated that we were removing his school-required color. From his viewpoint, his logic and follow-through was unassailable. He had expected to show it off to his bio-mom and instead found himself slathered in hot water, both figuratively and literally. Things were rather hostile between the parents in those days and his bio-mom was intent on making the slightest lapse into a courtroom drama. Naked and green would have sent her spinning on a whole new tangent. Of course, the boy had no way of knowing that. He was simply following school instructions in the most literal way possible.
We did think that he may have acquired the idea from the father and son tee shirts from one of the family giftings. Dad had a Jolly Green Giant and The Boy had one with the all-green Sprout. It could happen.
It's a funny thing when you are asked to update the blog so your son can have material for his school "autobiography". I did point out that the "auto" implied that he should be writing this himself. His response was that he could not remember much prior to age 5. Impelled by the circular logic of a teenage boy, this bit will concentrate on those early years.
He was a cute kid. He was a smart kid. Turning him upside down solved most problems. It made him laugh. Keeping him clean was an entirely different proposition. Inevitably, he found a way to be covered in some type of questionable or contraband material. Equally inevitably, he did this within an hour of his bio-mom coming to pick him up. We often wondered how he managed to fine-tune it so well well before he could tell time. My suspicion was that elder siblings contributed heavily.
One of his more memorable moments came through a routine enrollment at summer camp at Hamiliton Avenue School by said bio-mom. So off to daycare summer camp he went. The system was to break the kids up into groups and give each team a color. The boy was told to come in that color the next day. His group was given green. Okay, happy, happy, joy, joy, another wonderful kid moment, we'd find him a green tee shirt and everything would be fine. He got home to our house after camp and his mother was to pick him up after dinner. We ate and then he went to his room to get his things ready.
A little bit too much time passed, it was too quiet in the direction of his room, something triggered that radar one acquires along with kids. I went to check. Pushing the door to his room open, I was greeted by the sight of a naked child. But he wasn't simply naked. He was naked and bright green. Bright Kelly green from head to toe...hair, face, front, back, just about every square inch of available skin.
He had taken green tempura paint and had coated himself. The only place he missed was the middle of his back and only that because I came in too soon. True to his mechanically adept genetics, it appeared that he had already worked out a mechanism for application involving a long paintbrush and a hand towel. I had to laugh. His dad snatched him up and holding him at arm's length, still dripping in some spots and flaking in others, (tempura dries quickly) he rushed him to the tub.
The baby (he was somewhere between 3 & 4) was infuriated that we were removing his school-required color. From his viewpoint, his logic and follow-through was unassailable. He had expected to show it off to his bio-mom and instead found himself slathered in hot water, both figuratively and literally. Things were rather hostile between the parents in those days and his bio-mom was intent on making the slightest lapse into a courtroom drama. Naked and green would have sent her spinning on a whole new tangent. Of course, the boy had no way of knowing that. He was simply following school instructions in the most literal way possible.
We did think that he may have acquired the idea from the father and son tee shirts from one of the family giftings. Dad had a Jolly Green Giant and The Boy had one with the all-green Sprout. It could happen.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Potential Changes
After speaking with Olive last night, there are a couple of potential changes in the offing. I was told that both Phil and Paul were born in Philadelphia. Now, it appears the there were TWO Pauls. The first may be been born in Philly, but the second, our Paul of Spezzano Drive, was born in Greenwich Hospital. Olive remembers a story about the first Paul being born in the little apartment (Olive named the street and I promptly forgot it) and the midwife telling Andreana to enjoy the baby because it wouldn't live. Harsh, harsh words to a new mother, but apparently accurate. That Paul may not have lived more than eight or nine months. Olive didn't remember what was wrong with the baby, but perhaps some one else in the family will recall it.
We talked about the pictures of the WWI and WWII draft registrations for John Sr. and Paul Sr. She mentioned that Peter Sr. didn't register because of his back problems. I had heard that story from John Peter about how Phil and Paul had to start work very early in their lives because their father had broken his back while working. He had to work at the Town Farm in exchange for a stipend which wasn't enough to take care of the family. The registrations were interesting because they show the family living on Grigg St. which was the name of St. Roch Avenue before the Sardinians in the neighborhood united and put up the church. Does anyone know how they picked St. Roch for their patron and how the name of the street changed?
What was told so far was that the Sardinians were made to feel unwelcome at the Catholic church up on the Post Road. They petitioned for a church of their own in the neighborhood and were turned down by the diocese. In a typical Sardinian way, they proceeded to build the church out of stone after work each day as the majority of them were stonemasons. Once they had a building, they went back to the diocese and asked for a priest. In the face of that determination, the church gave in and sent a priest. In the Josephine Evaristo history at the Town library, she states that the church window was donated by a neighborhood boy who made it to the legislature. She hints at a certain amount of coercion being placed on him, but the story is not fleshed out.
The second correction that Olive made was the story about Phil and Bonnie coming back on their bike, married. She says that they were married here in Greenwich and she will provide pictures of it. Terrific! This blog is not about whether the story is correct or not, it is about sharing what we've been told and getting it all straight before the people who lived it are all gone. If we have two different versions, so be it. It gives us more information to work with and more places to check to determine which is the more correct rendition. That, and it's all good fun.
One of the principles of uniting a group of individuals into a family is the ongoing mythology of the group. The thought of uniting such a .... shall we say "strong willed".... set of people such as the living Cappialis, their spouses, and relatives, as well as those incredibly tough immigrant forebearers, is daunting to say the least. That, and the fact that they all talk at the same time. At least this way, everyone can be heard and we might actually knit this into a real story of coming to America that everyone can read and pass along to their children. As a public service, it may become mandatory reading for anyone thinking of marrying in.
So, bring on the stories of these colorful people who in one generation spread from Europe across the US. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were setting up a flanking movement to conquer the country. If there are corrections to be made, fine. But let us preserve the stories that give depth to this family's history and give the individuals of today and tomorrow an understanding of the people who came before them.
We talked about the pictures of the WWI and WWII draft registrations for John Sr. and Paul Sr. She mentioned that Peter Sr. didn't register because of his back problems. I had heard that story from John Peter about how Phil and Paul had to start work very early in their lives because their father had broken his back while working. He had to work at the Town Farm in exchange for a stipend which wasn't enough to take care of the family. The registrations were interesting because they show the family living on Grigg St. which was the name of St. Roch Avenue before the Sardinians in the neighborhood united and put up the church. Does anyone know how they picked St. Roch for their patron and how the name of the street changed?
What was told so far was that the Sardinians were made to feel unwelcome at the Catholic church up on the Post Road. They petitioned for a church of their own in the neighborhood and were turned down by the diocese. In a typical Sardinian way, they proceeded to build the church out of stone after work each day as the majority of them were stonemasons. Once they had a building, they went back to the diocese and asked for a priest. In the face of that determination, the church gave in and sent a priest. In the Josephine Evaristo history at the Town library, she states that the church window was donated by a neighborhood boy who made it to the legislature. She hints at a certain amount of coercion being placed on him, but the story is not fleshed out.
The second correction that Olive made was the story about Phil and Bonnie coming back on their bike, married. She says that they were married here in Greenwich and she will provide pictures of it. Terrific! This blog is not about whether the story is correct or not, it is about sharing what we've been told and getting it all straight before the people who lived it are all gone. If we have two different versions, so be it. It gives us more information to work with and more places to check to determine which is the more correct rendition. That, and it's all good fun.
One of the principles of uniting a group of individuals into a family is the ongoing mythology of the group. The thought of uniting such a .... shall we say "strong willed".... set of people such as the living Cappialis, their spouses, and relatives, as well as those incredibly tough immigrant forebearers, is daunting to say the least. That, and the fact that they all talk at the same time. At least this way, everyone can be heard and we might actually knit this into a real story of coming to America that everyone can read and pass along to their children. As a public service, it may become mandatory reading for anyone thinking of marrying in.
So, bring on the stories of these colorful people who in one generation spread from Europe across the US. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were setting up a flanking movement to conquer the country. If there are corrections to be made, fine. But let us preserve the stories that give depth to this family's history and give the individuals of today and tomorrow an understanding of the people who came before them.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Hopewell to Greenwich
About six months ago while pruning the Family Tree of errors, I used Ancestry.com and looked for any matches for Cappiali. I do this periodically because they are constantly updating and other people are constantly adding to all of the online information. I was surprised and pleased to find images of Tony's WWI, John Sr.'s WWII and Paul Anthony's WWI and WWII draft cards. I also found Peter Cappiali's WWII draft card. I have attached them to the blog. The images are small, but if you save them to your pictures you can blow them up using any picture viewer.
It is interesting how their data changed over the roughly 25 years between the wars. Giovanni is single and a laborer for Dupont in Hopewell in 1917. Paolo is also working for Dupont in Hopewell as a trackman. Their address is the same. Twenty-five years later, Paolo is now Paul and he is working for Roma Meat Market in Hopewell. Mary Cappiali is his closest relative. He has anglecised his first name, but not his second.
It appears that Pietro did not register for the draft in WWI. He is just that much younger than Paolo and Giovanni that he was not eligible. The first documentation found is the WWII draft card that shows his residence as 12 Grigg St. (St. Roch Avenue now) and lists his wife, Andriana as his closest relative. He has already anglecized his name and is known as Peter. It lists his employer as Mr. McKinley at the Town Farm in Greenwich.
Meanwhile, Giovanni Antonio is not listed for a WWII card. But Giovanni Paolo has become John with no middle name. This is John Sr. and he is living in Greenwich at 38 Grigg St. This was before they renamed it to St. Roch Avenue. His closest living relative is his wife. The interesting thing about John Sr.'s card shows that he has become two years younger than Giovanni Antonio, but it shows the same birth date. On Tony's card, he states that he was born February 28, 1892. It is interesting that they are all using Cappiali with two P's, instead of Capiale which Paul Antonio had put on his gravestone. Part of the story was that the boys left Sardinia under visas from another family with a name similar to their own. It has been passd down that the correct spelling is Capiale and that Paul Antonio wanted to be buried with his correct name.
We know that John Sr. lived for a time in Philadelphia after he married. This was verified by Silivo Benedetto, the realtor in Greenwich. He remembers because his father and John Sr. used to run illegal liquor between Philadelphia and Greenwich during Prohibition. The story is that Benedetto Sr. would come to Philadelphia, purchase a truck from John Sr. and drive it back to Greenwich. After a week or so, John Sr. would come to Greenwich, pick up the truck and take it back to Philadelphia. After a few weeks had past, Silvio Sr. would go to Philadelphia, buy the same truck again and drive it back to Greenwich. Silvio Jr. remembers that this went on for a long time.
Obviously, this was not an arms-length transaction. John Sr. and Maggie were manufacturing illegal hooch, bottling it, and then hiding it all over the truck. Silvio Sr. would come to Philadelphia, buy the truck, and drive it back to Greenwich and unload the booze. This was done during the era of Tammany Hall, when all of the corrupt officials from New York City were living in Connecticut and running their road houses. Silvio Jr. did not have a list of who the customers were, but it is safe to assume that there was a ready market in Greenwich for the product.
We must check as to when Tony moved to Philadelphia. Since our present Anthony is still living in Philly, it would be great if he could add to that part of the saga.
By the time, WWII came around, John Sr. and Maggie had moved to Greenwich. Prohibition was over and that put an end to the lucrative liquor distribution system they had enjoyed. It was also a family tale, that they had become "hot" in Philadelphia police circles. According to the story, they were never caught because they had hinged the baseboard in their house and slid the bottles into the wall and pushed up. It would work much like the vending machines of today if I understand it correctly. The police raided them periodically, but could never find the alcohol in the walls.
There was also some talk about their home being connected to a church in some way, with the police in Philly raiding the church as well. That may be true or simply embellishment for the telling of the tale. We would have to find their address in Philadelphia to check that story further.
It is also family lore that toward the end, the Gambino crime family became involved and they were forced out. Just another case of the large retailer coming into the market and squeezing out the little guy, I guess.
It is interesting how their data changed over the roughly 25 years between the wars. Giovanni is single and a laborer for Dupont in Hopewell in 1917. Paolo is also working for Dupont in Hopewell as a trackman. Their address is the same. Twenty-five years later, Paolo is now Paul and he is working for Roma Meat Market in Hopewell. Mary Cappiali is his closest relative. He has anglecised his first name, but not his second.
It appears that Pietro did not register for the draft in WWI. He is just that much younger than Paolo and Giovanni that he was not eligible. The first documentation found is the WWII draft card that shows his residence as 12 Grigg St. (St. Roch Avenue now) and lists his wife, Andriana as his closest relative. He has already anglecized his name and is known as Peter. It lists his employer as Mr. McKinley at the Town Farm in Greenwich.
Meanwhile, Giovanni Antonio is not listed for a WWII card. But Giovanni Paolo has become John with no middle name. This is John Sr. and he is living in Greenwich at 38 Grigg St. This was before they renamed it to St. Roch Avenue. His closest living relative is his wife. The interesting thing about John Sr.'s card shows that he has become two years younger than Giovanni Antonio, but it shows the same birth date. On Tony's card, he states that he was born February 28, 1892. It is interesting that they are all using Cappiali with two P's, instead of Capiale which Paul Antonio had put on his gravestone. Part of the story was that the boys left Sardinia under visas from another family with a name similar to their own. It has been passd down that the correct spelling is Capiale and that Paul Antonio wanted to be buried with his correct name.
We know that John Sr. lived for a time in Philadelphia after he married. This was verified by Silivo Benedetto, the realtor in Greenwich. He remembers because his father and John Sr. used to run illegal liquor between Philadelphia and Greenwich during Prohibition. The story is that Benedetto Sr. would come to Philadelphia, purchase a truck from John Sr. and drive it back to Greenwich. After a week or so, John Sr. would come to Greenwich, pick up the truck and take it back to Philadelphia. After a few weeks had past, Silvio Sr. would go to Philadelphia, buy the same truck again and drive it back to Greenwich. Silvio Jr. remembers that this went on for a long time.
Obviously, this was not an arms-length transaction. John Sr. and Maggie were manufacturing illegal hooch, bottling it, and then hiding it all over the truck. Silvio Sr. would come to Philadelphia, buy the truck, and drive it back to Greenwich and unload the booze. This was done during the era of Tammany Hall, when all of the corrupt officials from New York City were living in Connecticut and running their road houses. Silvio Jr. did not have a list of who the customers were, but it is safe to assume that there was a ready market in Greenwich for the product.
We must check as to when Tony moved to Philadelphia. Since our present Anthony is still living in Philly, it would be great if he could add to that part of the saga.
By the time, WWII came around, John Sr. and Maggie had moved to Greenwich. Prohibition was over and that put an end to the lucrative liquor distribution system they had enjoyed. It was also a family tale, that they had become "hot" in Philadelphia police circles. According to the story, they were never caught because they had hinged the baseboard in their house and slid the bottles into the wall and pushed up. It would work much like the vending machines of today if I understand it correctly. The police raided them periodically, but could never find the alcohol in the walls.
There was also some talk about their home being connected to a church in some way, with the police in Philly raiding the church as well. That may be true or simply embellishment for the telling of the tale. We would have to find their address in Philadelphia to check that story further.
It is also family lore that toward the end, the Gambino crime family became involved and they were forced out. Just another case of the large retailer coming into the market and squeezing out the little guy, I guess.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Pierina's Death Notice
PIERNA CAPPIALI
a longtime resident of Greenwich died at home on November 2, 2007. She was 71 years old.She was born in Greenwich, CT on March 14, 1936 to the late Pietro and Andreana Arcadu Cappiali.For many years Pierna was employed as an Administrative Assistant for Suny Purchase College in Harrison, NY. She graduated from Greenwich High School attended the University of California at Berkley and received her BA from New York University.
She is survived by her sister Mary Ann Hanson (Albert) of Darien, CT, brother Paul A. Cappiali (Olive) of Riverside, CT, brother John P. Cappiali (Cheryl) of Milford, CT and her sister in law Bonnie Cappiali of Punta Verde, FL. She is also survived by many nieces and nephews including, Helen A. Bellucci (Michael), Ann Marie Smith (William), Gina Marino (Anthony), Lisa Magliocco (Anthony), Paul Anthony Cappiali, Andreanna Prush (Ray), Peter Cappiali (Michelle), Theresa Costa (Michael), Ginamarie Anthony (Jeff) and Philip Cappiali.Besides her parents she was predeceased by her brother Philip Cappiali, Sr.
Friends may call from 2-4PM & 7-9PM on Tuesday, November 6, 2007 at the Castiglione Funeral Home, 134 Hamilton Ave., Greenwich, CT. Mass of Christian Burial will be 10AM on Wednesday, November 7, 2007 at St. Roch's Church, Greenwich, CT. Interment will follow at St. Mary's Cemetery, Greenwich, CT.In lieu of flowers contributions may be made to a charity of your choice.
Published in the StamfordAdvocate from 11/4/2007 - 11/6/2007.
a longtime resident of Greenwich died at home on November 2, 2007. She was 71 years old.She was born in Greenwich, CT on March 14, 1936 to the late Pietro and Andreana Arcadu Cappiali.For many years Pierna was employed as an Administrative Assistant for Suny Purchase College in Harrison, NY. She graduated from Greenwich High School attended the University of California at Berkley and received her BA from New York University.
She is survived by her sister Mary Ann Hanson (Albert) of Darien, CT, brother Paul A. Cappiali (Olive) of Riverside, CT, brother John P. Cappiali (Cheryl) of Milford, CT and her sister in law Bonnie Cappiali of Punta Verde, FL. She is also survived by many nieces and nephews including, Helen A. Bellucci (Michael), Ann Marie Smith (William), Gina Marino (Anthony), Lisa Magliocco (Anthony), Paul Anthony Cappiali, Andreanna Prush (Ray), Peter Cappiali (Michelle), Theresa Costa (Michael), Ginamarie Anthony (Jeff) and Philip Cappiali.Besides her parents she was predeceased by her brother Philip Cappiali, Sr.
Friends may call from 2-4PM & 7-9PM on Tuesday, November 6, 2007 at the Castiglione Funeral Home, 134 Hamilton Ave., Greenwich, CT. Mass of Christian Burial will be 10AM on Wednesday, November 7, 2007 at St. Roch's Church, Greenwich, CT. Interment will follow at St. Mary's Cemetery, Greenwich, CT.In lieu of flowers contributions may be made to a charity of your choice.
Published in the StamfordAdvocate from 11/4/2007 - 11/6/2007.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
The Passing of an Original
Immigration is in the news so much these days. There are many thoughts and positions to be taken on how to handle the wave coming from so many other nations now. But today we are looking backward to the children of WWI immigrants. We are acknowledging that passing of one of those children. On Friday, November 2, 2007, Pierina Cappiali was found dead on her kitchen floor by her tenant. Ironically, the tenant is a young Hispanic girl typifying the latest wave of immigration. But let us look to Pierini and the manner of her passing. She had been in recovery from bone cancer, but that was not the cause of her death. It was her heart. Mercifully, it was quick. She was dead before she hit the floor.
This event brings together the adjunct members of Cappyland. They may or may not be blood relatives, but they are active participants in the life theater that is enacted on a daily, monthly, annual and even generational basis. Pierina such a person. One who was involved with the inaugural moments and ongoing saga of Cappyland, but who did not reside here. She lived a few doors down. She lived there all her life. In her passing, so passes another piece of what made this immigrant neighborhood so vibrant. Pierini was the daughter of one the boys who left Sardinia ever-so-hastily.
Unlike his brother, John Sr. (who married the young Belgium girl, Maggie); Pietro, known as Pete married his Sardinian sweetheart, Andreana. We have a picture of her US entrance papers. She appears as a young lady with large dark eyes; contained, but wary. Their first two children, Phil (ever dapper, known as the Duke) and Paul (the second boy who inherited his brother's title once Phil left home) were born in Philadelphia. They came to Greenwich along with John Sr. and his wife. Mary, their daughter, was born was born there as we the next two children. They moved into a house two short blocks up the hill from Cappyland.
John Sr., who woke up one day and simply anglicized his birth name, lived with his family at Cappyland at the base of the hill. Pete and his family lived halfway up the hill, just before the church. The families went back and forth, but there were differences. Pete's family was of a milder temperament than John Sr.'s. But each exemplified the hard work and thrift that made that era's immigrants eventually successful. Both families sent their children out to work very young. Working for and with the family was completely ingrained and any other model for family life was not even considered. Most of the socializing was done over Sunday dinner.
The two youngest children were Pierina and then the baby, John Peter, named for his uncle down the hill and his father. While Pete's children were more outwardly restrained, some them still carried the wild streak that had driven the original five boys to the New World. One of the best examples of this underground resonance was Phil. As the oldest child, he carried the most responsibility. He did so for years. But there came a time when the others were of age. One fine day, Phil went off for a motorcycle ride with his girlfriend, Bonnie. The next time the family saw or even heard from him was three years later. He arrived home on his bike, married, and carrying his first child.
Paul seemed even more subdued. He married a Scotswoman, Olive, had four children, and worked for GE for 35 years. It wasn't until retirement that the wanderlust overtook him. His family finally erected a webpage for the simple purpose of knowing where in the world he might be.
Mary was deeply religious as was her mother. Andreana refused to learn English and to the end of her days spoke only Sardinian. The little area of Greenwich where John Sr. and Maggie settled had been a haven for Sardinian families. Andreana was never really was out of her element. The grocer, the baker, the police, and the clergy were all from the same place. The Sardinian towns may vary, but the island culture disbanded as the families fled their homeland and reformed in pockets on this side of the Atlantic. The Greenwich enclave centered around their chosen hill on the new ocean's shore. Granted they traded the deep blues of the Mediterranean for the grays of the Atlantic, but the similarities to home were there.
Mary was the next to leave. She married her accountant, Al and moved out, leaving only Pierina and John Paul to care for their parents. John Paul was the baby and the most Americanized. He was the one chosen to go onto college. The two older boys had had to work to help the family, so their education ended with high school. The girls were not expected to do anything more than get a job and find a husband. That was the expectation for most women of that era, not just immigrants. Pierina broke from that mold and went to the University of Berkeley. This was before that school was popularized by the generation to follow. Hers was the Beat generation following WWII rather than the hippie generation of her younger brother, John Paul.
Pierina came back to NY and got a job working in Continuing Ed for SUNY Purchase, so that she could care for her parents. She finished her degree at NYU. John Paul also went away to school, but he chose the University of Michigan. His college days were during the height of the Vietnam War and he was active in the anti-war sentiment. At some point, he helped another young man to leave the US for Canada. That young man left John Paul his car and his identity papers. John Paul proceeded to vanish to his family for the next ten years. He didn't return home until his parents became ill. Phil, the first wanderer, returned once his parents became ill as well. He and his family moved to Stamford to be close and stayed until both of their parents were gone. The other brother and sister were raising their families already close to the home, so all five children banded together to help.
But Pierina had stayed in the home and was the main caregiver. Even after her parents died, she continued to live in the little house that she grew up in. She continued to work at the college and made her life about visiting her brothers and sisters and being an aunt to their children. She made time for the children of her cousins down the hill as well. Her Uncle John Sr. and Aunt Maggie of previous posts had four children. They, in turn, produced a variety of grand-nieces and nephews for Pierina's attention.
It wasn't until the grandson of John, Sr., John, took over Cappyland, that there was a return to much coming and going between the houses. Pierina's baby brother took a shine to his younger cousin. "Cousin" was the resolution to any cumbersome genealogical description and age disparity. The Cappyland cousin responded by keeping an eye on Pierina and making certain that the house was kept up and she was safe.
It was surprising when the police came knocking at Cappyland at 11 pm with the news of her death. Both J and JP had checked on her the evening before. It was only the evening before that JP had come down to talk to her. In true familial fashion he had wandered down the hill afterward to catch up on the events at Cappyland. He brought with him a red maple in a compounding bucket that needed to be transplanted. The two men settled into the expected "garage chat" that has been traditional since Cappyland was built.
The very next evening was spent up the hill with all of that family grieving the loss of their sister/aunt/cousin. Although Pierina had been to the doctor that morning; she suffered a massive heart attack in her kitchen while preparing farina. It was particularly poignant as Pierina was preparing for the next series of genetic treatments for bone cancer. They traced her last hours hoping for some clue as to what had happened. The family was concerned because her car was missing. She had been at her doctor complaining about acid reflux. She had not been feeling well and instead of driving, she called a cab to drive her home. It is hard to understand why she would have done so, but she had been increasingly erratic since her illness. Because of the missing car, the family was uncertain about the cause of death. It was found at the doctor's office over the weekend.
Hers was a quiet life. The wild and impetuous family gene was set to dormant once her family needed her. She never married, did not appear to want children, was content with her job, and then with her retirement. Other than the standard sibling bickering; there was no serious conflict in her life.
It was a simple life, filled with simple pleasures and pains. Pierina served her family through four generations. In her professional life, Pierina helped thousands of adults obtain the education they needed to fulfill their dreams. She adopted the life of a maiden Sardinian auntie that could have been lived in any of the past hundred centuries. The only nod to these modern times was the job outside the home. She filled a time-honored role that is rapidly disappearing from Italian families in the US. While her brothers and sisters and others will miss her, it is perhaps, their children and grandchildren who will feel the void most deeply. All children should have a maiden aunt to chastise and to spoil them when their parents are too busy or too tired. Many an Italian child has run and hid when his auntie pinched their face and told him/her that they were beautiful and getting so big. But they always come back for the special cookie, the kind hand, and the special smile that is reserved for them alone. So with Pierina's passing, so passes
that special person in the fabric of the family who lived humbly, but carried the treasure of family in her heart for all of the others. Perhaps her heart had finally reached fullness and could hold no more.
This event brings together the adjunct members of Cappyland. They may or may not be blood relatives, but they are active participants in the life theater that is enacted on a daily, monthly, annual and even generational basis. Pierina such a person. One who was involved with the inaugural moments and ongoing saga of Cappyland, but who did not reside here. She lived a few doors down. She lived there all her life. In her passing, so passes another piece of what made this immigrant neighborhood so vibrant. Pierini was the daughter of one the boys who left Sardinia ever-so-hastily.
Unlike his brother, John Sr. (who married the young Belgium girl, Maggie); Pietro, known as Pete married his Sardinian sweetheart, Andreana. We have a picture of her US entrance papers. She appears as a young lady with large dark eyes; contained, but wary. Their first two children, Phil (ever dapper, known as the Duke) and Paul (the second boy who inherited his brother's title once Phil left home) were born in Philadelphia. They came to Greenwich along with John Sr. and his wife. Mary, their daughter, was born was born there as we the next two children. They moved into a house two short blocks up the hill from Cappyland.
John Sr., who woke up one day and simply anglicized his birth name, lived with his family at Cappyland at the base of the hill. Pete and his family lived halfway up the hill, just before the church. The families went back and forth, but there were differences. Pete's family was of a milder temperament than John Sr.'s. But each exemplified the hard work and thrift that made that era's immigrants eventually successful. Both families sent their children out to work very young. Working for and with the family was completely ingrained and any other model for family life was not even considered. Most of the socializing was done over Sunday dinner.
The two youngest children were Pierina and then the baby, John Peter, named for his uncle down the hill and his father. While Pete's children were more outwardly restrained, some them still carried the wild streak that had driven the original five boys to the New World. One of the best examples of this underground resonance was Phil. As the oldest child, he carried the most responsibility. He did so for years. But there came a time when the others were of age. One fine day, Phil went off for a motorcycle ride with his girlfriend, Bonnie. The next time the family saw or even heard from him was three years later. He arrived home on his bike, married, and carrying his first child.
Paul seemed even more subdued. He married a Scotswoman, Olive, had four children, and worked for GE for 35 years. It wasn't until retirement that the wanderlust overtook him. His family finally erected a webpage for the simple purpose of knowing where in the world he might be.
Mary was deeply religious as was her mother. Andreana refused to learn English and to the end of her days spoke only Sardinian. The little area of Greenwich where John Sr. and Maggie settled had been a haven for Sardinian families. Andreana was never really was out of her element. The grocer, the baker, the police, and the clergy were all from the same place. The Sardinian towns may vary, but the island culture disbanded as the families fled their homeland and reformed in pockets on this side of the Atlantic. The Greenwich enclave centered around their chosen hill on the new ocean's shore. Granted they traded the deep blues of the Mediterranean for the grays of the Atlantic, but the similarities to home were there.
Mary was the next to leave. She married her accountant, Al and moved out, leaving only Pierina and John Paul to care for their parents. John Paul was the baby and the most Americanized. He was the one chosen to go onto college. The two older boys had had to work to help the family, so their education ended with high school. The girls were not expected to do anything more than get a job and find a husband. That was the expectation for most women of that era, not just immigrants. Pierina broke from that mold and went to the University of Berkeley. This was before that school was popularized by the generation to follow. Hers was the Beat generation following WWII rather than the hippie generation of her younger brother, John Paul.
Pierina came back to NY and got a job working in Continuing Ed for SUNY Purchase, so that she could care for her parents. She finished her degree at NYU. John Paul also went away to school, but he chose the University of Michigan. His college days were during the height of the Vietnam War and he was active in the anti-war sentiment. At some point, he helped another young man to leave the US for Canada. That young man left John Paul his car and his identity papers. John Paul proceeded to vanish to his family for the next ten years. He didn't return home until his parents became ill. Phil, the first wanderer, returned once his parents became ill as well. He and his family moved to Stamford to be close and stayed until both of their parents were gone. The other brother and sister were raising their families already close to the home, so all five children banded together to help.
But Pierina had stayed in the home and was the main caregiver. Even after her parents died, she continued to live in the little house that she grew up in. She continued to work at the college and made her life about visiting her brothers and sisters and being an aunt to their children. She made time for the children of her cousins down the hill as well. Her Uncle John Sr. and Aunt Maggie of previous posts had four children. They, in turn, produced a variety of grand-nieces and nephews for Pierina's attention.
It wasn't until the grandson of John, Sr., John, took over Cappyland, that there was a return to much coming and going between the houses. Pierina's baby brother took a shine to his younger cousin. "Cousin" was the resolution to any cumbersome genealogical description and age disparity. The Cappyland cousin responded by keeping an eye on Pierina and making certain that the house was kept up and she was safe.
It was surprising when the police came knocking at Cappyland at 11 pm with the news of her death. Both J and JP had checked on her the evening before. It was only the evening before that JP had come down to talk to her. In true familial fashion he had wandered down the hill afterward to catch up on the events at Cappyland. He brought with him a red maple in a compounding bucket that needed to be transplanted. The two men settled into the expected "garage chat" that has been traditional since Cappyland was built.
The very next evening was spent up the hill with all of that family grieving the loss of their sister/aunt/cousin. Although Pierina had been to the doctor that morning; she suffered a massive heart attack in her kitchen while preparing farina. It was particularly poignant as Pierina was preparing for the next series of genetic treatments for bone cancer. They traced her last hours hoping for some clue as to what had happened. The family was concerned because her car was missing. She had been at her doctor complaining about acid reflux. She had not been feeling well and instead of driving, she called a cab to drive her home. It is hard to understand why she would have done so, but she had been increasingly erratic since her illness. Because of the missing car, the family was uncertain about the cause of death. It was found at the doctor's office over the weekend.
Hers was a quiet life. The wild and impetuous family gene was set to dormant once her family needed her. She never married, did not appear to want children, was content with her job, and then with her retirement. Other than the standard sibling bickering; there was no serious conflict in her life.
It was a simple life, filled with simple pleasures and pains. Pierina served her family through four generations. In her professional life, Pierina helped thousands of adults obtain the education they needed to fulfill their dreams. She adopted the life of a maiden Sardinian auntie that could have been lived in any of the past hundred centuries. The only nod to these modern times was the job outside the home. She filled a time-honored role that is rapidly disappearing from Italian families in the US. While her brothers and sisters and others will miss her, it is perhaps, their children and grandchildren who will feel the void most deeply. All children should have a maiden aunt to chastise and to spoil them when their parents are too busy or too tired. Many an Italian child has run and hid when his auntie pinched their face and told him/her that they were beautiful and getting so big. But they always come back for the special cookie, the kind hand, and the special smile that is reserved for them alone. So with Pierina's passing, so passes
that special person in the fabric of the family who lived humbly, but carried the treasure of family in her heart for all of the others. Perhaps her heart had finally reached fullness and could hold no more.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Y and I
For devotees of Tracy and Hepburn, the y and i in the naming of this blog should be self-evident. For those of you who never saw Adam's Rib, Tracy and Hepburn shared a pet name. His was spelled Pinky and hers was Pinkie. In the European fashion and with the lack of a definitive neuter designation from moviedom, the y version is the name of the blog and the i with no e is the version chosen for the blogger.
'This blog is meant to commemorate the comings and goings at the place known as Cappyland. Many of the events occuring in and around Cappyland have acquired legendary gloss with the telling and retelling over the past eighty-some years For those who like a punchy beginning, the purchase of the property set the tone. Giovanni and Margareta, the protagonist immigrant couple had decided that Greenwich, CT was the place to settle down. They found a place near the rest of the Sardinian immigrants and bought their first piece of the American dream; a large property with rental income from two apartments. It is a time-honored method for immigrants and others to gain a foothold. They planned on the rental income to pay their mortgage. The closing was immediately followed by tenant issues.
The tenant took this change in ownership as an opportunity to change his life as well. His methodology was a tad questionable. He nailed all of the windows and doors of the house shut and set fire to it. That was one thing. That his mother-in-law was sleeping in the upstairs bedroom was more to the point. Half of the house was destroyed, before the fire department could get the fire under control. The tenant's mother-in-law leaped to safety from the second floor and was unhurt. Because it was 1926 and the first 24 hours of ownership; there was no insurance yet in place. Our couple and their family members should have realized then that tumultous happenings were inherent to the property.
The new owners, who we shall call Capps, met during WWI in the company town of Hopewell, VA. She was only 16 and one of six sisters who had fled Belgium with their mother after the Germans had marched all of the men in their village out and shot them. Their village was then destroyed and they became refugees. Her real name was Margareta, but we shall call her Maggie.
He was one of five brothers who left Sardinia under passports with a different family name. Legend has it that one of the brothers was in love with a local girl. Somehow a rival for her affections ended up with his throat slit and all of the brothers saw fit to find their place in America. Which brother was the murderer has never been told and they took their truth to the grave. His given name was Giovanni Paolo, but he will be known as John Sr.
There is a family rumor that Maggie came first to Chicago with a Catholic organization and worked in the textile industry there. The facts show that she, her mother, and her sisters boarded a boat in Antwerp, already in the employ of DuPont Artificial Silk and came to New York. They then moved on to Hopewell, VA on the James River where DuPont had set up a town for its employees.
Shipping records show that the Capp men arrived in the States and also went directly to Hopewell and were employed by DuPont as well. How John Sr. and Maggie met is lost to us, but family lore has their first date as a visit to the Virginia highlands where these new-made Good Ole Boys had erected a still. The products of this still went to fund their adventures in the New World. It was to supplement their company wages and from all accounts they did quite well.
There were two small glitches in the budding romance of John Sr. and Maggie. Their first date was rudely interrupted by officers of the law and that interruption became an overnight in the local constabulary. Maggie was incacerated as well. It has never been established whether she was inbibing or was merely a bystander. Speculation later on gave 60/40 that she was sharing cups with her date, but no one was willing to verify that hypothesis.
It is known that when Maggie returned to home after her first date with John Sr., her mama was not enthralled with the derring-do of the new boyfriend. Maggie was only 16 years old and John Sr. was almost 30. As any parent can empathise, the age difference alone would have been enough to cause parental obstruction. Arrest for illegal production of alcohol was more than enough to push her parent over the top and into prohibition of further association.
Maggie was having none of it. She dug into her position as only a teenage girl can do and flatly refused to part with her Bad Boy. Eventually, John Sr. proposed and Maggie accepted. Mama laid it out to Maggie in French, in Belgian and in recently acquired broken English. "Marry him and I will have nothing to do with you!" Again, Maggie refused to end it. Her mother and sisters quit the artificial silk (rayon) business, packed up, and moved to California. Maggie never saw her mother alive again.
Maggie married her John. Their wedding party consisted of extremely somber-looking brothers of the groom. She was as tall as her new husband, but he and his brothers were so broad across the shoulders that they had to turn sideways to enter a room. They were quite willing to wrestle their new world into submission.
'This blog is meant to commemorate the comings and goings at the place known as Cappyland. Many of the events occuring in and around Cappyland have acquired legendary gloss with the telling and retelling over the past eighty-some years For those who like a punchy beginning, the purchase of the property set the tone. Giovanni and Margareta, the protagonist immigrant couple had decided that Greenwich, CT was the place to settle down. They found a place near the rest of the Sardinian immigrants and bought their first piece of the American dream; a large property with rental income from two apartments. It is a time-honored method for immigrants and others to gain a foothold. They planned on the rental income to pay their mortgage. The closing was immediately followed by tenant issues.
The tenant took this change in ownership as an opportunity to change his life as well. His methodology was a tad questionable. He nailed all of the windows and doors of the house shut and set fire to it. That was one thing. That his mother-in-law was sleeping in the upstairs bedroom was more to the point. Half of the house was destroyed, before the fire department could get the fire under control. The tenant's mother-in-law leaped to safety from the second floor and was unhurt. Because it was 1926 and the first 24 hours of ownership; there was no insurance yet in place. Our couple and their family members should have realized then that tumultous happenings were inherent to the property.
The new owners, who we shall call Capps, met during WWI in the company town of Hopewell, VA. She was only 16 and one of six sisters who had fled Belgium with their mother after the Germans had marched all of the men in their village out and shot them. Their village was then destroyed and they became refugees. Her real name was Margareta, but we shall call her Maggie.
He was one of five brothers who left Sardinia under passports with a different family name. Legend has it that one of the brothers was in love with a local girl. Somehow a rival for her affections ended up with his throat slit and all of the brothers saw fit to find their place in America. Which brother was the murderer has never been told and they took their truth to the grave. His given name was Giovanni Paolo, but he will be known as John Sr.
There is a family rumor that Maggie came first to Chicago with a Catholic organization and worked in the textile industry there. The facts show that she, her mother, and her sisters boarded a boat in Antwerp, already in the employ of DuPont Artificial Silk and came to New York. They then moved on to Hopewell, VA on the James River where DuPont had set up a town for its employees.
Shipping records show that the Capp men arrived in the States and also went directly to Hopewell and were employed by DuPont as well. How John Sr. and Maggie met is lost to us, but family lore has their first date as a visit to the Virginia highlands where these new-made Good Ole Boys had erected a still. The products of this still went to fund their adventures in the New World. It was to supplement their company wages and from all accounts they did quite well.
There were two small glitches in the budding romance of John Sr. and Maggie. Their first date was rudely interrupted by officers of the law and that interruption became an overnight in the local constabulary. Maggie was incacerated as well. It has never been established whether she was inbibing or was merely a bystander. Speculation later on gave 60/40 that she was sharing cups with her date, but no one was willing to verify that hypothesis.
It is known that when Maggie returned to home after her first date with John Sr., her mama was not enthralled with the derring-do of the new boyfriend. Maggie was only 16 years old and John Sr. was almost 30. As any parent can empathise, the age difference alone would have been enough to cause parental obstruction. Arrest for illegal production of alcohol was more than enough to push her parent over the top and into prohibition of further association.
Maggie was having none of it. She dug into her position as only a teenage girl can do and flatly refused to part with her Bad Boy. Eventually, John Sr. proposed and Maggie accepted. Mama laid it out to Maggie in French, in Belgian and in recently acquired broken English. "Marry him and I will have nothing to do with you!" Again, Maggie refused to end it. Her mother and sisters quit the artificial silk (rayon) business, packed up, and moved to California. Maggie never saw her mother alive again.
Maggie married her John. Their wedding party consisted of extremely somber-looking brothers of the groom. She was as tall as her new husband, but he and his brothers were so broad across the shoulders that they had to turn sideways to enter a room. They were quite willing to wrestle their new world into submission.
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