Vinnitta: The Birth of the Detroit Mafia

By Daniel Waugh

From the Author of Off Color: The Violent History of Detroit’s Notorious Purple Gang It was the winter of 1919, and it was the height of a gang war the Motor City hadn’t seen before. Detroit’s Mafia family had split into two factions, both vying to not only avenge ancient wrongs but also gain control of the city’s lucrative illegal alcohol trade at the dawn of Prohibition. In Vìnnitta, author Daniel Waugh offers an in-depth account of the formation of the Detroit Mafia and how they grew from a small band of Sicilian immigrants into one of the most powerful criminal sects. He shares how the mafia infiltrated the Detroit business community and established themselves in illegal rackets ranging from extortion, auto theft, bootlegging, burglary, and construction racketeering. The story is told through the eyes of not only the gangsters themselves, but also those of an undertaker forced to prepare many of his friends for burial after their murders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Apr 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781483496269

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WAUGH

Copyright © 2019 Daniel Waugh.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-9627-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-9626-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019900314

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 04/02/2019

Also by Daniel Waugh

Off Color: The Violent History of Detroit’s Notorious Purple Gang

Dedicated to the memory of John and Elsie Wickey.This evening I will find the peace and serenity that I lost some seventeen years ago [upon initiation into the Mafia]. When I lost them, I became a monster. I was a monster until I took pen in hand to write these lines…Before I go, I ask for forgiveness from my mother and from God, because their love has no limits. The whole of the rest of the world will never be able to forgive me. – Suicide note of imprisoned Sicilian mafiùsu Antonino Gioè.

INTRODUCTION

As I begin, I would like to offer a disclaimer. The following pages of the book you are about to read contain serious allegations against certain deceased individuals. It is important that the reader keep in mind that blood families and Mafia families are two distinct entities. The fact that one or several members of a particular blood family were active in the Mafia in no way indicates that their other relatives, either by blood or marriage, were similarly involved with the Mafia, or even aware that their relatives were affiliated with a criminal sect. Indeed, one of the central tenets that the Mafia demands of its members is that blood relatives are to be told nothing of their affairs. As a result, it should absolutely not be inferred that any descendants of the now deceased individuals discussed in this work are in any way involved or complicit with the Mafia.

The following work is by far the most difficult book I have ever attempted. While writing about the inner workings of a secret criminal society a century after the fact is complicated enough on its own, my task was made even more daunting by a dearth of available published information and an almost complete lack of first-hand source material about the subject. Trying to flesh out the early years of the Detroit Mafia has been comparable to trying to reassemble a trail of bread crumbs after a hurricane.

Vìnnitta: The Birth of the Detroit Mafia had its origins in the early research that I was doing into the Purple Gang and other Prohibition-era gangs in the city. By the autumn of 1999, I had begun to notice repeated yet vague references to a gangster named Sam Giannola, who I had never heard of before. Further investigation revealed to me the existence of the so-called Giannola-Vitale War, which had apparently taken place in Detroit from 1918–1921, a few years before the Purple Gang had even come to power. Accounts of this conflict were conflicting and intriguing, with some claiming that over one hundred men had been killed during its duration. I took my first stab at fleshing out the story of the Giannola-Vitale War in my first attempt at a book during the winter of 2000–2001.

As the years passed, my research uncovered a lot of different factors and stories behind the rise of the city’s Mafia family. Some names, such as Giannola and Vitale, may have been known to criminologists while others, such as Caruso and Mirabile, were not. It is my hope that this work will provide a thorough look at the turbulent first years of the Detroit Mafia, culminating with the conclusion of the Giannola-Vitale feud in 1921. Due to the aforementioned lack of first-person accounts of life inside the burgàta (or family), I often found myself in the tricky position of blending knowledge and informed supposition to get inside the Mafia politics of the era. If the reader has a question about how I reached a conclusion about a particular point, please refer to my end notes.

It is my goal to tell as impartial a story as I can manage. It is not my intention in this work to glorify these men or their deeds, some of which were incredibly callous and vicious. The incredible human cost of the Detroit Mafia’s rise to power cannot be understated. With that said, it is also not my intention to castigate these individuals by nailing them to a metaphorical cross. In my quest for impartiality, I hope to portray the early mafiùsi of Detroit not as saints or sinners but as complex individuals who participated in the Mafia for a variety of motives.

I have also tried to recreate life in Detroit’s old Italian quarter and illuminate some individuals whose lives were affected either directly or indirectly by the Mafia, from the undertaker who ultimately ends up preparing many of his friends for burial during the violent underworld feuds; the deaf-mute barber who risks his life to provide information about Mafia crimes to the police; a frustrated housewife who longs for a wealthier life and gets in over her head with the Mafia or the group of hard-working Italian-born police detectives who tirelessly tried to bring the mafiùsi to justice.

I would like to offer thanks to my family and friends for their love and support. Special thanks to Dr. Jimmy C. Haouilou, as well as to Lauren, Michele, and the rest of the Rehabilitation staff at Ascension St. John’s Hospital. I have much gratitude to the staff at the Detroit Public Library and Undergraduate Library at the University of Michigan. Thanks to Shannon Murphy for her research assistance at the National Archives. Special thanks to Scott Burnstein, Dr. James Buccellato, Thomas Hunt, and Richard Warner for their advice, encouragement, and sharing of resource material. A very big thank you to freelance illustrator J. Rickman for not only creating the original cover art but recreating many mug shots from poor newspaper microfilm photocopies. This book would be a much lesser work without their collective contributions. And thanks to you, the reader, for taking the time to read this book. As always, any errors within are mine and mine alone. I hope you enjoy this work at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Daniel Waugh

Detroit, Michigan

October 22, 2018

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

The following chart gives a tentative list of the various members and suspected members of the Detroit Mafia in the period covered by this work. While this chart does not list every man associated with the burgàta, it should be able to allow the reader to keep track of their name as this work progresses. In the lower rankings of the chart, the name of each capudicìna (captain) has been emboldened, with the suspected surdàti (soldiers) under his command listed beneath him. Also listed are the approximate dates that each individual held their designated rank. As an additional note, the individuals herein are listed by their given Italian names. Also listed are their anglicized English names (if they used one). For example, Giovanni Vitale began using the first name John around English speakers circa 1915, and he is referred to as such at the corresponding point in this book’s narrative. More often than not, an early Detroit mafiùsi was more apt to anglicize his first name if he had a solid grasp of the English language. Whenever possible, I have attempted to use the names that the individuals themselves used.

Càpu (Boss)

Agostino Vitale (c. 1901–1907)

Pietro (Peter) Mirabile (1907–1914)

Antonino (Tony) Giannola (1914–1919)

Salvatore (Sam) Giannola (1919)

Giovanni (John) Vitale (1919–1920)

Calogero Caruso (1920–1921)

Ignazio Caruso (1921)

Suttacàpu (Underboss)

Salvatore Brillati (c. 1901–1907)

Calogero Caruso (1907–1911)

Giuseppe (Joseph) Caruso (1911–1914)

Salvatore (Sam) Giannola (1914–1919)

Giovanni (John) Vitale (1919)?

Calogero Caruso (1919–1920)

Giuseppe (Joseph) Caruso (1920–1921)

Salvatore Catalanotti (1921)

Cunsigghiàri (Counselor)

Domenico Grillo (c. 1901–1907)?

Giuseppe (Joseph) Caruso (1907–1911)?

Unknown (1911–1914)

Agostino Vitale (1914–1919)

Pietro (Peter) Mirabile (1919–1921)

Gaspare Milazzo (1921)

Dicìni (Crews)

Vito Adamo (1911–1913)

Salvatore Adamo

Pietro Adragna

Giuseppe Aleccia

Antonino (Tony) Caruso

Onofrio De Luca

Antonio Demanuele

Giuseppe Passalaqua

Giorgio Tomaselli

Pietro (Peter) Bosco (1914–1918)

Antonino (Tony) Alesio

Giacomo Bologna

Giuseppe Bosco

Diego (Dick) Caprarotta

Giuseppe (Joe) Catalano

Giuseppe De Simone

Gioacchino DiGaetano

Giuseppe Di Stefano

Francesco (Frank) Giampino

Andrea Licato

Leonardo Palmeri

Luca Sarcona

Salvatore Brillati (c. 1901–1920)

Salvatore Cipriano

Carlo Manzella

Giuseppe (Joe) Manzello

Salvatore Tocco

Vito (Black Bill) Tocco

Girolamo Trupiano

Antonino Zerilli

Giuseppe (Pippinu) Zerilli

Felice Buccellato (1912–1914)

Pietro Adragna

Antonino Buccellato

Giuseppe Buccellato

Girolamo Catalano

Giuseppe Coppola

Andrea Grimaldi

Carmelo Poma

Carlo Caleca (1911–1913)

Pasquale D’Anna

Gioacchino DiGaetano

Giuseppe Di Stefano

Antonino (Tony) Giannola

Salvatore (Sam) Giannola

Vito Giannola

Agostino Messana

Leonardo Messana

Salvatore Messana

Girolamo Stabile

Giuseppe (Joseph) Provenzano

Salvatore D’Anna (c.1907–1911)

Salvatore Biondo

Antonino Cassisi

Carlo Cassisi

Pasquale D’Anna

Giuseppe Di Stefano

Antonino (Tony) Giannola

Salvatore (Sam) Giannola

Vito Giannola

Antonio Piazza

Giuseppe (Joseph) Provenzano

Nicolò DiBona (c.1915–1921)

Diego Caradonna

Francesco (Frank) Castiglione

Giovanni (John) Castiglione

Gaspare DiBona

Angelo Fiordilino

Vito Licata

Salvatore Marino

Damiano Perfetto

Antonio Provenzano

Mario Ruggirello

Vito Giannola (1914–c.1921)

Vincenzo Barraco

Antonino (Tony) D’Anna

Pasquale D’Anna

Archie Davis

Salvatore (Totò) Locicero

Vincenzo LoCicero

Giovanni (John) Micalizzi

Francesco (Frank) Scarlatta

Giuseppe (Joseph) Tocco

Domenico Grillo (1907–1919)

Leonardo (Leo) Cellura

Antonino (Tony) Lafata

Vito (Bill) Lafata

Giuseppe Licavoli

Giuseppe Lucido

Matteo Palazzolo

Giovanni (John) Priziola

Antonio Randazzo

Domenico Rubino

Chester LaMare (1919–21)

Charles Bucciero

Domenico Cervone

Dan Cleary

Vincenzo (Jimmy the Dog) Denigris

Luigi (Louis) Ricciardi

Antonino (Tony) Ruggirello

Antonio (Totò) Ruggirello

Angelo Santoro

Beniamino (Benny the Baker) Vitagliano

Pietro (Peter) Mirabile (1914–1919)

Francesco (Frank) Barresi

Benedetto Calamia

Giuseppe Calandrino

Salvatore Catalanotti

Antonio (Tony) Cusenza

Vincenzo Ferrarella

Filippo LaColla

Antonino (Tony) Mirabile

Giuseppe (Joseph) Mirabile

Paolo (Paul) Mirabile

Santo Pirrone

Antonino (Tony) Renda

Vincenzo (Jimmie) Renda

Vito Renda

Giuseppe Verme

Giovanni Vitale (1914–1919)

Vito Arcilesi

Antonino (Tony) Badalamenti

Luigi (Louis) Buono

Domenico Crupi

Francesco (Frank) Dimaggio

Salvatore Evola

Giuseppe Gaglio

Salvatore Gaglio

Francesco Inghilleri

Antonino Misuraca

Francesco Munaco

Salvatore Perna

Tony Romano

Salvatore Viola

Giuseppe (Joe) Vitale

Salvatore Vitale

The following individuals came from outside Detroit to play a direct role in the town’s Sicilian underworld;

Pietro Adragna (Brooklyn) 1913–1914.

Giuseppe Aleccia (Brooklyn) 1913–1914.

Calogero Arena (Rochester, NY) 1919–1920.

Bartolo Guccia (Philadelphia) 1919.

Salvatore Ippolito (Rochester, NY) 1914.

Angelo Meli (Pittsburgh) 1918–1921.

Gaspare Milazzo (Brooklyn/Philadelphia) 1919–1921.

Angelo Polizzi (Pittston, PA) 1919–1921.

Giovanni Torres (New York) 1917–1918.

The following individuals were mafiùsi from other cities whose actions played a role in Detroit’s underworld affairs;

Vito Bonventre, capudicìna in the Schiro burgàta.

Gregorio Conti, càpu of the Pittsburgh burgàta (until 1919).

Salvatore D’Aquila, the New York-based càpu di ‘i càpi.

Antonino D’Andrea, càpu of the Chicago burgàta (1914–1921).

Giuseppe DiCarlo, càpu of the Buffalo burgàta.

Rosario Dispenza, càpu of the Chicago burgàta (1909–1914).

Bartolomeo Fontano, a New York-based mafiùsu-turned-informant.

Stefano Magaddino, Castellammare-born surdàtu based in Brooklyn/Philadelphia.

Angelo Palmeri, suttacàpu of the Buffalo burgàta.

Salvatore Sabella, càpu of the Philadelphia burgàta.

Nicolò Schiro, càpu of the Brooklyn burgàta.

Santo Volpe, càpu of the northeastern Pennsylvania burgàta.

Members of the Detroit Police Department’s Black Hand Squad

Inspector Emory Brooks

Inspector William Good

Inspector Ernst Marquardt

Detective Lieutenant John Crowe

Detective Lieutenant Robert McPherson

Detective Sergeant Thomas Balone

Detective Sergeant Joseph Kolb

Detective Sergeant Louis Oldani

Detective Sergeant Emanuel Roggers

Plainclothes Patrolman Emanuel Dinero

Plainclothes Patrolman Harry Kinney

Plainclothes Patrolman Harold Roughley

Plainclothes Patrolman Alex Tremonte

Peripheral characters who lives intersected with the Detroit Mafia in this work;

Francesco (Frank) Bagnasco, Little Sicily barber-turned-undertaker.

Nicolò and Giuseppa (Josephine) Virgilio Forte; an immigrant couple who became involved a deadly love triangle.

Graziano Napolitano, Little Sicily barber-turned-informant.

Ferdinand Palma, a Detroit detective-turned-businessman.

GLOSSARY

The vast majority of the Detroit mobsters featured in this work grew up speaking the Sicilian language. Often inaccurately labeled a dialect, Sicilian is actually distinct enough from Standard Italian to be considered a separate language, according to Ethnologue. Sicilian is one of the oldest literary languages in Europe and gradually incorporated words from the many civilizations who conquered the island throughout its history; influence from Arabic, Greek, French, Latin, Occitan, and Spanish (among others) can be seen in its vocabulary.

While Sicilian is still spoken on the island in modern times, its usage began to gradually decline after the Risurgimentu of 1860, when the new Italian government mandated that Standard Italian (which itself is largely derived from the Florentine subdialect of Tuscan) be taught in Sicilian schools. This process was hastened greatly after Benito Mussolini came to power in the 1920s, as Il Duce imposed rigid sanctions to ensure that the Italian people were united under a single language. Today, Sicilian is not recognized as an official language, not even on the island itself. With Standard Italian now predominating in the island’s schools and media, Sicilian is no longer the first language of many Sicilians, especially in major urban areas like Palermo and Catania. Yet the language survives in the private households of Sicily and in clubs dedicated to its preservation.

Despite its inevitable decline, Sicilian was still the mother tongue of the island in the late nineteenth century, when Detroit’s first mobsters were born and raised. They grew up speaking Sicilian at home and learning to read/write in Italian at school. By contrast, the women of Sicily at the time did not acquire fluency in Italian as they did not attend school in that era. The vast majority of Detroit’s early mobsters specifically spoke a dialect known as Western Sicilian, which is common to the city of Palermo and most of its surrounding province, as well as Trapani Province and the western portion of Girgenti (Agrigento) Province. In turn, Western Sicilian itself can be divided into three subdialects grouped by region; Palermitanu (WS-1), Trapanesi (WS-2), and Girgintani (WS-3).

Many of the cities and towns of the island have slightly different names in Sicilian, examples being Palermu (Palermo), Àrcamu (Alcamo) and Casteddemmari (Castellammare del Golfo). As the towns of western Sicily were officially known by their Italian equivalents by the late nineteenth century, I have used those names in this work. Detroit’s early mobsters gradually learned English with varying degrees of proficiency; some gained fluency while others utterly failed to master it. Regardless of how well they grasped their new land’s mother tongue, the men of the Detroit Mafia in the early twentieth century usually reverted to their native Sicilian amongst themselves, especially when they were discussing criminal business.

This work contains many Sicilian words and terms used by Detroit’s early Mafia members when communicating amongst themselves;

amìcu – friend (pl. amìci).

assassìnu – assassin (pl. assassìni). The latter represents the title of Chapter 6.

Assemblèa Generàli - translates to General Assembly, which was described by Nicola Gentile as the group of mid-level mafiùsi who would occasionally gather to make important policy decisions at a national level in the early twentieth century. Larger than the more powerful Cunsìgghiu Grànni (Grand Council), the Assemblèa Generàli was responsible for such actions as electing càpi and debating proposed murder contracts from various locales around America. The Assemblèa Generàli would be replaced in 1931 by the so-called Commission.

brigantaggiu – brigandage, an archaic term for banditry. This word is used for the title of Chapter 3.

brìscula – a popular trick-taking Sicilian card game.

burgàta - a Sicilian term that means very small town or suburb, specifically the villages outside of Palermo that gave birth to L’Onuràtu Società in the early-to-mid nineteenth century. The word is also used to refer to a structured Mafia group (pl. burgàti). While Mafia clans in other cities may have used the term famìgghia, Detroit mafiùsi in the first half of the twentieth century tended to refer to their group as a burgàta (or burgàt for short). Most commonly referred to in modern times as a family.

campanilismu – Derived from the word campanàru (bell tower), this expression describes the specific regional pride a Sicilian would feel towards their home island and, more specifically, their hometown. The word itself comes from an old folk tale that says if you cannot hear the bell rung from your chièsa matri (mother church), then you are amongst strangers. Thus, their loyalty and strength comes from remaining close to the paisàni of their hometown. It is also known in Standard Italian as campanilismo.

campèri – Armed guards who were hired to guard estates by gabillòti in rural nineteenth century Sicily.

càpu – the Sicilian word for head; it was used to refer to the leader of a Mafia group in either Sicily or America in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. The Mafia leader was also occasionally referred to as a rapprisintànti (representative). Eventually replaced by the term capumàfia in Sicily and the word boss in America.

capudicìna – derived from the more formal càpu di dicìna, the word essentially translates to head of ten (pl. capudicìni). Its Italian language counterpart is caporegime. Its modern equivalent in Italian-American mob slang is captain.

càpu di ‘i càpi – head of heads. Its better known Italian equivalents are capo dei capi or capo di tutti i capi. Also known in English as boss of all bosses.

carabbinèri –Sicilian word for policemen.

cascittùni – a slang term for an informer (pl. cascittùna).

cialòma – a sung prayer for Sicilian tuna fisherman that dates back to Arab times. It was traditionally chanted during the mattànza fishing ritual.

commendatùri – commander. Often used as a term of great respect and endearment for a powerful figure.

còsca – a Sicilian word for the crown of spiny, closely folded leaves on plants such as the artichoke or the thistle, which is said to symbolize the tightly-knit relationships between mafiùsi. As such, the word còsca is used to describe a Mafia group (pl. còschi).

Cu è sùrdu, ’orbu e taci, càmpa cent’anni ‘mpàci - Translates to He who is deaf, dumb and blind lives a hundred years in peace. This proverb is often used to explain the reluctance of Sicilian citizens to implicate local mafiùsi in crimes.

cucìnu – cousin (pl. cucìni).

cumpàri – a term that can mean either a very good friend or close relative.

cunsigghiàri – counselor or advisor. Better known by its Italian equivalent of consigliere.

Cunsìgghiu Grànni – translates to Grand Council, which was named by Nicola Gentile as the select group of senior Mafia càpi who made highly important arbitrations and policy decisions at a national level in the early twentieth century. The Cunsìgghiu Grànni would eventually be replaced in 1931 by the so-called Commission.

cunsòlu – The Sicilian tradition of bringing gifts of food and drink to a grieving household, as the bereaved respectfully refrain from cooking until their recently deceased family member is laid to rest.

diabbòlicu – diabolical. This word is used as the title of Chapter 8.

dicìna – a group of ten (pl. dicìni). Used to describe a mid-level group on the Mafia organizational pyramid. Its Italian equivalents are decina or regime, and it is commonly referred to as a crew in modern times.

epilugu – epilogue.

gabillòtu – a rural entrepreneur who rented land for short-term use in order to gain wealth and power by maintaining iron-fisted control of the estate under his charge (pl. gabillòti).

galantomu – gentleman.

gènesi – genesis. The name for Chapter 1 of this work; it is a reference to the Book of Genesis.

infèrnu – inferno. A reference to the Inferno section of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, this is the title of Chapter 15.

L’Onuràtu Società – The Honored Society. This was how the Mafia referred to themselves in the early twentieth century. It is often referred to in books by its Italian equivalent of L’Onorata Società. Over time, the term would be supplanted by Cosa Nostra (Our Thing) in both Sicily and America.

lupàra – literally means for the wolf. It is used to describe the short, double-barreled sawed-off shotguns traditionally favored by the Mafia (pl. lupàri).

lupuminàru –a lycanthrope or, more commonly, a werewolf. A nickname of Giovanni Vitale, this word is used as the title of Chapter 14.

màfia –A Sicilian word that is believed to have emerged from the adjective mafiùsu and is used to describe the secret criminal society the formed over the course of the nineteenth century.

mafiùsu – an adjective that originally described someone as a bully, arrogant yet fearless, enterprising and proud. The term eventually became used to describe members of Sicily’s secret criminal sect (pl. mafiùsi).

marpiùni - shrewd imposter.

mattànza – a Sicilian word for slaughter. Derived from the Spanish word matar (to kill); it is used to describe a centuries-old annual Sicilian ritual of tuna fishing. Each spring, as large schools of giant bluefin tuna migrate to the spawning grounds in the Mediterranean waters of western Sicily, fishermen head out to deep waters to set large drift nets in order to trap them. After hundreds of tuna are caught in the nets, the fishing boats sail in towards the shallows off the coast. Once there, the nets were hauled to the surface, where the thrashing tuna were then clubbed, speared and hooked before being landed aboard the boats. It is also known in standard Italian by the same name. This word is used for the title of Chapter 12.

nostri – ours.

omicìdiu – homicide. The word is used for the title of Chapter 5.

òmini di rispèttu – men of respect. This term is used to generally describe the inducted members of a Mafia sect.

onomasticu – translates to name day. Birthdays were not typically celebrated in nineteenth century Sicily; as a result, more than a few of the mafiùsi named in this work were unsure of their exact birth dates. Instead, Sicilians who had been named after a Catholic saint would often celebrate their onomasticu on that saint’s feast day. One example was Giovanni Vitale, who celebrated his birthday on June 24, the day of the Festa di San Giovanni.

onùri – honor.

orrùri – horror. The title of Chapter 9.

pàci – peace. The word is used for the title of Chapter 13.

paisànu – Derived from the word paìsi (village), this term is used to familiarly describe someone as a villager or neighbor (pl. paisàni).

patrùni – An important man in the Sicilian community who provided recent immigrants with labor jobs with larger companies, often for a healthy commission. Known in Italian as a padrone. The name of Chapter 2 of this work.

pèzzu ‘i nuvànta – literally translates to piece of .90. The term is used to disparagingly describe someone as a big shot or heavy-handed authoritarian. Although a Sicilian term, it is better known by the singular Italian spelling of pezzonovante.

picciòttu – a young man. Usually used to refer to a young, uninitiated associate of the Mafia (pl. picciòtti).

pirìculusu – dangerous. This word is used for the title of Chapter 4.

pizzu – beak. The term is used to describe the protection money extracted by the Mafia, the action being described as, to wet one’s beak.

pròlugu – prologue.

purgàri – purge. This word is used for the title of Chapter 10.

Risurgimentu – essentially translating to resurgence or revival, it is the Sicilian term for the unification of the various Italian city-states that was officially proclaimed on March 17, 1861. The first monarch of the new Kingdom of Italy was King Victor Emmanuel II of Sardinia. Known in Standard Italian as Risorgimento.

rivelaziòni – revelation. A reference to the Book of Revelation, it is the title of Chapter 16.

scupa – The Sicilian word for broom, it is also the name of a popular card game where the goal is to sweep tricks.

sfrèggiu – a word used within the Sicilian Mafia to describe both a disfiguring wound and a deliberate insult designed to make someone lose face.

surdàtu – soldier. Used to describe an inducted member of a Mafia group (pl. surdàti).

stilèttu – a long, thin bladed knife often used with deadly accuracy by mafiùsi.

suttacàpu – literally translates to underhead. Popularly referred to as an underboss in modern American mobspeak.

tradimèntu – betrayal. The title of Chapter 11.

umiltà - humility. Early members of the Sicilian Mafia were ordered to display humility by not speaking of the organization’s business with outsiders. The word is frequently mistaken with the similarly spelled umirtà.

umirtà – The original name for the Mafia’s code of silence; violation of which is punishable by death. Now known in Sicily and America by the Italian term omertà.

vìnnitta – vengeance. A common name for the violent feuds that frequently sprung up in Sicily, it is known in standard Italian as vendetta.

vitturiùsu – victorious. The title of Chapter 7.

zicchinètta – a popular betting-based Sicilian card game.

zùccaru di grànu turcu – literally translates to sugar of Turkish grain. Used by mafiùsi to describe corn sugar, a key liquor distilling additive.

PRÒLUGU

September 21, 1937 – Part I

Autumn arrived in the Motor City on a Tuesday that year, bringing with it fair skies and unseasonably warm temperatures. The city of Detroit was the unquestioned automobile capitol of the world. Although mired in the Great Depression like the rest of the country, the city’s economic future was slowly but surely looking up. Area schoolchildren were now fully settled into their new classes for the school year.

Opening one of Detroit’s daily newspapers that day, the reader would have read about how Lower Manhattan was virtually paralyzed by what was believed to be the largest American Legion parade in the organization’s history. Two hundred thousand marching veterans and millions of spectators brought just about all traffic to a halt in the country’s biggest city. Both the Spanish Civil War and Second Sino-Japanese War were raging; Japan’s Navy Air Service was now bombing the northern Chinese city of Nanking day and night, killing thousands of civilians and causing a like number to flee for their lives. Sportswise, the Detroit Tigers were playing a doubleheader against the Red Sox at Boston’s Fenway Park. The first edition of J.R.R. Tolkien’s fantasy novel The Hobbit rolled off the presses in London. Meanwhile, four days earlier, Abraham Lincoln’s face had been dedicated on the still under-construction Mount Rushmore national monument.

Forty-seven year old Frank Bagnasco is not very pre-occupied with current news events on this Tuesday. A wealthy undertaker, he has been busy preparing for a total of three funerals that have been scheduled for the following day. Frank has operated his funeral parlor on the same St. Aubin Street block in Detroit’s Little Sicily neighborhood for the last twenty-two years. Bagnasco lives in the large apartment above the business with his wife Bessie and their three children; Sam (age 20), Anthony (age 19), and Pearl (age 16). From his humble beginnings as a barber, Frank had learned the specifics of mortuary science and built his business into a highly profitable endeavor. Known as one of the most respected men in Detroit’s Italian community, Bagnasco was a living embodiment of the American Dream. Frank was a member of several Italian fraternal societies, including the Sons of Italy, Madonna delle Grazie di Terrasini, the San Pietro, and Madonna di Trapani.

There is another society, however, that Bagnasco has been inexorably linked to for years. The police and newspapers referred to it as the Mafia or Black Hand, while its members occasionally spoke of The Honored Society. They have been at least a peripheral part of Frank’s life for as long as he could remember, from his childhood in the Sicilian town of Terrasini to the New World city of Detroit, Michigan. Bagnasco is friendly with many members of the local Mafia burgàta, having earned their trust and respect. Twelve years earlier, Bagnasco had provided an alibi for local gangster Frank Cammerata, who was accused of robbing a creamery. Frank claimed that Cammerata had been acting as a pallbearer at one of his funerals at the time of the crime. The undertaker and four other alibi witnesses were charged with perjury as a result, charges that were eventually dismissed. It was the only legal trouble Frank Bagnasco had ever been in.

More than a few of the men that Bagnasco has prepared for burial over the last two decades have been killed in one Mafia vìnnitta or another. Four months before, Frank’s close friend and former neighbor, Damiano Gaudino, had been shotgunned to death as he entered his East Side home. Bagnasco had been distressed at his friend’s demise, but he raised no fuss over the matter. After all, Frank knew better than anyone that violent, sudden death was an omnipresent threat in the world of this secret society.

On this first day of autumn, one of the funerals that Bagnasco was working on was for seventy-three year old Domenico Grillo, who had succumbed to heart disease two days earlier. The two men were from the same Sicilian town and longtime friends. By mid-afternoon, Frank is exhausted from his recent labors. Planning on attending an all-night vigil at the Grillo home this evening, Bagnasco heads upstairs for a few hours sleep, but not before giving his son Anthony strict instructions that he is not to be disturbed. Around 8 o’clock, Anthony heard a loud knock on the front door. A man he knew very well asked to speak to Frank. While outwardly calm, this caller seemed quite serious. Anthony replied that his father was not home. The man then asked where Frank was and when he would be back. After he got two negative replies, the visitor said he would be back later.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank came downstairs and was told of the man who had just come to see him. Bagnasco most probably knew what the man wanted and had no doubt that this individual had not left the area as he had claimed but was most likely waiting for him outside somewhere. Undeterred by these vaguely ominous developments, the undertaker headed back upstairs to prepare for his wake.

Standing at medium height with a slim build, with dark brown eyes, a strong jaw, and neatly parted dark brown hair that showed only the faintest hint of gray, Frank was a handsome man. After checking his appearance in the mirror, the impeccably dressed undertaker bid Anthony good night and said he was going to the Grillo vigil. After donning his fedora and tan overcoat, Frank Bagnasco stepped out into the mild autumn evening and started for his parked car. Along the way, he would sort out whatever problem was undoubtedly waiting for him between his front door and his garage.¹

1

GÈNESI

Early nineteenth century – Spring 1901

The twelfth-century Arab geographer Muhammad al-Idrisi wrote;

Sicily is the pearl of this century…Since old times, travelers from the most far away country… boast of its merits, praise its territory, rave about its extraordinary beauty, and highlight its strengths…because it brings together the best aspects from every other country.²

Known as Sicilia to its residents, the triangular-shaped island covers nearly 10,000 square miles and is separated from the Italian mainland by the narrow Strait of Messina. The interior of Sicily is generally mountainous, while lush green agricultural land lines the coastal regions. In the nineteenth century, most of the island’s residents were peasants, some growing wheat or others raising livestock. Some fished the surrounding seas while others toiled in hellish working conditions in the sulfur mines of the south-central provinces.

Due to its strategic location in the central Mediterranean, Sicily has been conquered and plundered by numerous civilizations dating back to the ancient Phoenicians. Even after the Risurgimentu of the mid-nineteenth century, the mainland-based Italian government still stationed half of its army in Sicily. Some studies and oral tradition date the inception of what we call the Mafia to this long history of oppression, but most modern scholars believe that the secret society actually emerged over the course of the early nineteenth century during the gradual banishment of feudalism across the island.

During the second century B.C., the ancient Romans introduced villa-based estates called latifundia to Sicily with the intention of cultivating crops and livestock for sale around the empire. Controlled almost exclusively by the senatorial class, these estates mushroomed in size and productivity. Smaller, independent farmers and ranchers on the island quickly saw their lands gobbled up. The peasants were thus left with two choices, neither of which were appealing; work on the latifundium under slave-like conditions, or go idle and possibly starve.

Even with the collapse of the Roman Empire, Sicily’s self-sufficient villa-based agricultural system survived relatively intact. Centuries would pass and different empires would conquer the island, with the latifundia-owning feudatory (which consisted mainly of counts, dukes, marquises, and princes; barons usually owned smaller estates that did not encompass whole towns and villages) jockeying for power with whichever monarch happened to be lording over them at the time. The feudatory usually ran their estates free of outside interference, in part because of Sicily’s rugged terrain and horrible road infrastructure.

The beginning of the end of the latifundia came in the early nineteenth century, when the Bourbon-controlled Kingdom of Naples merged with Sicily to create the Kingdom of Two Sicilies. The Bourbon monarchy began the process of abolishing feudalism. The long-standing practice of primogeniture was done away with, land holdings could no longer be confiscated to settle debts, and roughly one-fifth of Sicilian land was to be redistributed to the peasants. A brand new market for buying and selling land came into effect, the first seeds of Sicilian capitalism. The amount of new landholders began to steadily increase.³

Most of the Sicilian feudatory eschewed their rural villas and lived in aristocratic splendor in the city of Palermo. Overseeing of the estates and land distribution was left to gabillòti, who paid the feudatory for use of the estate and in turn rented out the land to peasants. The average gabillòtu was an ambitious entrepreneur who had no interest in personally working the land under his control. The peasants under his charge paid exorbitant prices for their necessary seeds and supplies, on top of their usual rents and taxes.

With the dismissal of the feudatory’s private militias, these estates were vulnerable to theft and sabotage. The gabillòti would then hire campèri (armed guards) to protect the property and oversee the peasants. The campèri were frequently friends or relatives of the gabillòtu, who would often deliberately mismanage the estate in order to drive the feudatory into debt. Now willing to do anything to get out of such a problematic situation, the feudatory would more often than not give up his land to the gabillòtu. Such acts established a power base for the gabillòti, who then proceeded to terrorize both the fortunate (lords) and unfortunate (small farmers) in their immediate vicinity.⁴

While the gradual banishment of feudalism had improved the quality of life for some, many peasants continued to suffer under harsh living and economic conditions. Sicilian citizens began looking to overthrow the Bourbon monarchy, and their feelings climaxed in the failed 1848 revolution that for a brief time drove out the Bourbon troops. While order was eventually restored to the countryside, a second revolution a decade later, led by Giuseppe Garibaldi and his red-shirted Expedition of the Thousand, was successful. Sicily officially became a part of what would soon become the modern nation of Italy on June 7, 1860.¹

In the years immediately after the Risurgimentu, Sicily went through significant economic and social upheaval. Revolutionary gangs began converging on Palermo with the intent of overthrowing the embryonic Italian government while food prices soared and bandits plagued the countryside. Many peasants who could not afford to rent or purchase land often turned to stealing from those who did in order to survive. Especially hard-hit were small farm owners, whose properties lacked the protection of the feudal militias of old. Add to the mix a much larger capitalist economy which brought with it a booming demand for crops and livestock, more financial and transactional disputes in need of arbitration, a significant jump in crime, and a decided lack of effective law enforcement, circumstances were ripe for land-owners to turn outside the law for adjudication and protection.

It was from this chaotic post-feudal situation that the first Mafia clans emerged.

The phenomenon seems to have first appeared in the vast, profitable citrus fruit estates that ringed the city of Palermo. Sicilian lemons and oranges were shipped in increasingly large numbers to ports like London and New York. By the 1860s, the lemon groves that surrounded Palermo were calculated to be the most valuable agricultural land in all of Europe. Citrus fruit orchards were extremely time and labor intensive, and they were quite vulnerable to vandals. Fruit crops could be plundered, trees could be damaged, and irrigation sluices could be destroyed. Since local law enforcement tended to be poorly organized (if not non-existent in some areas), local fruit growers found themselves paying taxes to localized sects of thieves to prevent their estates from being tampered with.⁵

Baron Niccolò Turrisi Colonna, landholder and member of the Italian Parliament, wrote a pamphlet entitled Public Security in Sicily in 1864. By then, law and order had become a hot button issue on the island (Turrisi Colonna himself had survived an attempt on his life the year before). On one side, the new Italian government claimed that opposition forces were deliberately fostering chaos while their political opponents retorted that the government was exaggerating the law and order situation to discredit them as criminals. Turrisi Colonna remained relatively neutral in this political debate, his study noting plainly that while robberies, murders, and extortion were well-noted in the press, there was something way off the usual criminal ken happening on the outskirts of Palermo;

We should not delude ourselves anymore. In Sicily there is a sect of thieves that has ties across the whole island…The sect protects and is protected by everyone who has to live in the countryside, like the lease-holding farmers and herdsmen. It gives protection to and helps traders. The police hold little or no fear for the sect because it is confident that it will have no trouble slipping away from any police hunt. The courts too hold little fear for the sect: it takes pride in the fact that evidence for the prosecution is rarely produced because of the pressure it puts on witnesses.⁶

Even at this early date, Turrisi Colonna painted a remarkably accurate picture of the basic workings of the Mafia, including their protection racketeering, their disrespect of authority, their intimidation of witnesses, as well as the makeup of their ranks;

…[the sect] affiliates every day of the brightest young people coming from the rural class, of the guardians of the fields in the Palermitan countryside, and of the large number of smugglers; a sect which gives and receives protection to and from certain men who make a living on traffic and internal commerce. It is a sect with little or no fear of public bodies, because its members believe that they can easily elude this.⁷

Turrisi Colonna guessed the organization to be about twenty years old and elaborated on the special signals the sect used to recognize each other while transporting stolen cattle around the countryside. Some of them wrangled the animals, others altered the brands, and yet others were responsible for the actual butchering of the steers. In some towns, the sect was so well-organized that nearly every resident was frightened into passive acquiescence. Their members often gathered in secret to pass judgment (and possible death sentences) on any of their number who had broken their rules. At one point, Turrisi Colonna gives a chillingly familiar description of one of the sect’s defining characteristics;

In its rules, this evil sect regards any citizen who approaches a carabiniere [military policeman] and talks to him, or even exchanges a word or a greeting with him, as a villain to be punished by death. Such a man is guilty of a horrendous crime against ‘humility’.

‘Humility’ involves respect and devotion towards the sect. No one must commit any act that could directly or indirectly harm the members’ interests. No one should provide the police or judiciary with facts that uncover any crime whatsoever.⁸

The Sicilian word for humility is umiltà, which is believed to be the origin of the word umirtà, the original name of the Mafia’s code of silence.⁹

The precise origin of the word màfia is uncertain. Some believe it may have Arabic roots (dating to Sicily’s time as an Islamic emirate) in terms such as mahyas (aggressive boasting), mu’afa (protection, safety), or marfud (rejected). According to scholar Diego Gambetta, the Sicilian adjective mafiùsu was used in the nineteenth century to describe someone as a bully, arrogant yet fearless, enterprising and proud.¹⁰ Antonino Traina, who authored an Italian-Sicilian dictionary in 1868, claimed with a touch of irritated parochialism that the word was introduced into Sicilian from the Tuscan dialect.¹¹ Italian scholar G. Lo Monaco persuasively argued in 1990 that the noun màfia may have emerged from the adjective mafiùsu, which itself seems to have evolved from a blend of the Arabic past participle marfud and the similar sounding Sicilian adjective marpiùni (shrewd imposter).¹²

The highly successful Sicilian play I mafiùsi di la Vicaria (The Mafiùsi of Vicaria Prison) is credited with introducing the public at large to the word màfia in 1863, a year before Baron Turrisi Colonna’s pamphlet was published. Virtually nothing is known about the play’s authors, Gaetano Mosca and Giuseppe Rizzotto. Some scholars speculate that the pair may have been associated with or even actual members of the Mafia. The play itself is essentially a redemption story centered on a group of prison inmates who share many characteristics with the Mafia; there is a boss, an elaborate initiation ritual, and respect and humility are constant themes. The inmates refer to their protection payments as pizzu, the Sicilian word for beak; the act of payment itself being referred to as fari vagnàri u pizzu (to wet ones beak). The word mafiùsi appears in the play just once, in the title, while màfia is not said at all (contemporary nineteenth century accounts variously spell màfia with one f or two).¹³

Throughout the rest of the nineteenth century, the secret society known as the Mafia spread like wildfire amongst the cities and towns of Palermo and Trapani provinces. Similar Mafia-type organizations had sprouted in the sulfur mining towns of south-central provinces such as Caltanissetta, Enna, and Girgenti (modern-day Agrigento).¹⁴ Although the Mafia was (and still is) largely a phenomenon of western Sicily, clans had infested the eastern city of Catania and several other towns on that end of the island by the end of the 1890s.

Chroniclers of the era noted how profits from Mafia activity trickled down to fortunate families in the towns around western Sicily. Men wore expensive clothes and sported gold watches on chains while women wore silk dresses and fancy hats. On feast days, there would be heavy consumption of luxury items like meat and desserts. Perhaps the first public description of the initiation ritual appeared in the August 20, 1877 issue of Il Giornale di Sicilia in an article about a proto-Mafia organization in the town of Monreale called Stuppagghiari. While some elements may have varied slightly from clan to clan, the ceremony described is quite similar to the modern version;

The person to be initiated enters the room and stands by a table upon which there is an image of a saint; it does not matter who the saint is as long as it is a saint. He gives his right hand to the two compari (his sponsors), and they prick the tip of his right thumb with a needle, drawing enough blood to smear on the picture of the saint. The initiate takes his oath on this bloody image and [after this is taken, while the older members mutter secret words] the initiate burns the bloody image in the candle flame. This is how he is baptized and hailed compare.

Giuseppe Alongi, in his 1886 book The Maffia in its Factors and Manifestations, noted about how the mafiùsi conducted themselves on a daily basis;

These people are imaginative and their villages hot; their day-to-day language is mellifluous, exaggerated, full of images. Yet the maffioso’s language is short, sober, clipped…The phrase lassalu iri (‘let him go’) has a disdainful meaning along the following lines" ‘My dear chap, the man you are dealing with is an imbecile. You only compromise your dignity by picking him as an enemy’…Another phrase – be’ lassalu stari (‘let him be’) seems identical, but has the opposite meaning. It translates as, ‘That man deserves a severe lesson. But now is not the time. Let us wait. Then, when he is least expecting it, we will get him’…The true maffioso dresses modestly. He affects a brotherly bonhomie in his attitude and speech. He makes himself seem naïve, stupidly attentive to what you are saying. He endures slaps and insults with patience. Then, the same evening, he shoots you.¹⁵

The most complete picture of the early Mafia was drawn by Ermanno Sangiorgi, the chief of police of Palermo. In a series of reports submitted to the Ministry of the Interior between November 1898 and January 1900, Sangiorgi identified a total of 670 òmini di rispèttu (men of respect) belonging to clans in eight different villages to the north and west of Palermo. The report laid out the pyramidal structure of the còsca (clan), at the head of which was a càpu. Second in command was the suttacàpu with one other acting as an advisor/arbitrator (cunsigghiàri). Each subgroup (dicìna) within the clan was headed by a capudicìna who had under his command about ten soldiers (surdàti). Membership was open only to Sicilian males with no real age restriction; boys as young as sixteen were initiated. Prospective members were carefully tested for obedience, courage, discretion, ruthlessness, and skill at espionage. The successful commission of murder was usually a final test for them to pass before being inducted.

New members of the Mafia must show umiltà (humility) and embrace the vow of silence. In a sense, the code then known as umirtà is much older than the Mafia itself. Essentially a deeply-entrenched Sicilian ideal of manhood, the roots of umirtà can be seen in the Stoic philosophy of the ancient Greeks and Romans who once ruled the island. This concept is further tied in with the strong sense of onùri (honor), and violating this code, this sense of manhood, can be seen as the ultimate act of dishonor. A member of the Mafia must avenge any insult to the honor of himself, his còsca, or his personal family. This heavy emphasis on onùri would manifest itself when members spoke of the organization as L’Onuràtu Società (The Honored Society).

In order to protect themselves from outsiders or lawmen infiltrating the còsca, a mafiùsu was strictly forbidden from introducing himself as such, even to a fellow mafiùsu whom he does not know. In the late nineteenth century, a series of passwords were used in order for mafiùsi to recognize one other. These coded words were usually deployed in a dialogue about a fictional toothache. The specific reference to this sore tooth would trigger additional coded language from the listener which would enable the two men to identify each other as mafiùsi. While somewhat awkward in its nature, this code-based identification ritual was scrupulously upheld and failure to carefully follow it was punishable by death.¹⁶

Sangiorgi’s report went into detail about the men of respect themselves; the land they owned, the citrus fruit groves they worked in and/or guarded, their business methods, how they controlled local commerce, committed robberies, kidnappings, and murders. There was also a centralized fund set aside for paying legal fees and taking care of the families of imprisoned members. The bribery and/or coercion of local law enforcement, jurists, and politicians were commonplace. Heads of the various còschi all worked together to manage their affairs and control their territory.

Sangiorgi realized it was highly difficult to successfully prosecute mafiùsi for crimes such as robbery and murder, as not only did witnesses have to be kept alive to testify but judges and juries also had to be safeguarded against reprisals and bribery. With that in mind, Sangiorgi hoped to use his report to obtain convictions for criminal associations. While the penalties for such transgressions weren’t severe, such convictions would have a profound political impact, as it would demonstrate to the world at large that a secret and sophisticated criminal network not only thrived in western Sicily, but was now spreading overseas. If Sangiorgi’s report had had its intended effect, the Mafia could have been dealt a potentially crippling blow just a few decades after its inception.

A flurry of arrests around western Sicily rounded up hundreds of suspects. By the spring of 1901, however, the political climate had swung against Ermanno Sangiorgi as his chief champion, Council of Ministers President Luigi Pelloux, had been removed from power. Key witnesses began recanting their testimony. The remaining defendants were referred to by prominent, upstanding citizens as true gentlemen. Only a total of thirty-two convictions for criminal associations were obtained. Most of the culprits were then credited with time served and walked out of custody the very next day. The disheartening spectacle caused Sangiorgi to laconically remark, It could not be otherwise, if those who denounced them in the evening went to defend them in the morning. ¹⁷

Despite the abolition of feudalism, many Sicilians were still living hard lives under sometimes crushing poverty. Beginning in the 1880s, citizens from Sicily and southern Italy began immigrating abroad in increasingly large numbers. Many chose the United States as a place to start over and achieve a better life. It would be estimated that a little less than a quarter of Sicily’s total population migrated to America in the first thirteen years of the twentieth century. One town that saw a good portion of its residents decamp for the United States was Terrasini.

Located twenty-five miles west of Palermo on the eastern coast of the Gulf of Castellammare, the town’s name is believed to have been derived from either the Latin term terra sinus (land at the gulf) or terra sinorum (land of the bays). Fishing has been a primary source of income for residents since medieval times. A small agricultural settlement named Favarotta gradually grew around the fishers’ village; the two were formally united as modern-day Terrasini in 1836.

The area is noted for its rugged yet picturesque coastline that features many small coves and grottoes nestled amongst sheer cliffs that dead-end at the ocean. Like the rest of western Sicily, Terrasini has hot, dry summers and mild, rainy winters. The smell of the sea wafts through the streets while groves of trees that grow lemons, oranges, olives, and figs ring the outskirts of town. To the south and east, mountains loom over the village. Festivals are a big part of life in Terrasini. One of the most popular, La Festa di li Schietti, is held yearly on Easter Sunday. The main attraction involves young bachelors demonstrating strength and virility to female suitors by lifting a 110–120 pound orange tree above their head with one hand, spinning it as many times as they can.

At the turn of the twentieth century, Terrasini had just fewer than eight thousand residents, the vast majority of whose lives focused around family, hard work, and the Catholic Church. Some fished the surrounding seas, as they had for generations. Others worked in the fruit and vegetable patches outside of town, while some may have plied their trade at a variety of other occupations in town. Unfortunately, by this time, the Mafia was well entrenched in Terrasini. Many of the town’s residents were affected in some manner by the secret society, either by paying pizzu to them, being otherwise victimized by the mafiùsi, or having family members who actively participated. Little concrete information survives about specific Mafia activity in Terrasini at the turn of the twentieth century. What is known is that more than a few of them would join their fellow Terrasinesi and immigrate to America.

Agostino Vitale was one of those who chose to make the journey to the New World. Born on October 15, 1867 to Salvatore and Grazia Perna Vitale, he had lived in Terrasini all his life. Standing 5’4" tall with a medium build, Agostino had a ruddy complexion, gray eyes, dark brown hair, and a full drooping mustache. Sometime in his twenties he married Grazia Migliore, who was originally from the nearby town of Balestrate; they would ultimately raise a family of six children. While little can be confirmed about Vitale’s life before traveling to America, he was known to be articulate, intelligent, and to have made a decent living in the manufacture and sale of wine. Agostino was also most probably a member of the Terrasini Mafia còsca. Already shown the respect and deference due to a man of respect, Vitale set to leave Sicily in the spring of 1901. Agostino’s destination was Detroit, Michigan, where a large colony of Sicilian residents was flourishing.¹⁸

The prospect of leaving their homeland for a new life was a momentous occasion for Sicilian immigrants. Many had never left the immediate area where they had been born. There was also an element of danger, as some had left for the U.S.A. and never been heard from again. Passage across the Atlantic on a steamer was not cheap, and some immigrants sold all their belongings in order to make the trip across, only to arrive in New York destitute. Like most others, Agostino Vitale would make the journey first and then send for his family.

Traveling aboard the S.S. Archimede, Vitale left Naples on April 3, 1901 and began sailing westward. Agostino most likely spent the voyage with his fellow immigrants in steerage. Conditions would have been very cramped and if any food was served, it was most likely of poor quality. Few (if any) had been to sea for a long period of time before, and seasickness may have been a problem. Despite the hardship, most immigrants were in good