A Sicilian Tragedy

By Italo Nicolai

This novel is the story of the people of Sicily during the twentieth century. In particular, it follows the lives of the Agosto family as they struggle through a sons departure for the United States as well as the adulterous affair of a daughter-in-law. Intertwined in the retelling of this familys history is the rise of Mussolini and the beginning of the Second World War. The effects of these two could be seen throughout the island, leading to additional apprehension and fear for a family and a people who are already under the watchful eyes of the Sicilian Mafia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 4, 2005
• ISBN: 9781465317223

Italo Nicolai

Libero Italo Nicolazzi was born of immigrant parents in the slums of Brooklyn, New York in April 5, 1918. He married his elementary school sweetheart, Marie Guasto, March 1, 1942 after he attended high school where he played football for four years. Nicolazzi was drafted in August 1942 into the army as a demolition expert, Sergeant, and was discharged in 1946. He and his wife raised three daughters and one son, while Nicolazzi was employed at Republican Aviation for 33 years. They continue to travel to Europe and to Sicily to the hometown of his wife’s parents. This novel is based on the Sicilian culture and facts of a similar tragedy.

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Copyright © 2005 by Italo Nicolai.

Library of Congress Number:                   2004098975

ISBN :         Hardcover                               1-4134-7098-X

                   Softcover                                 1-4134-7097-1

ISBN:          ebk                                     978-1-4653-1722-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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Contents

PREFACE

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XXVII

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXX

CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIV

CHAPTER XXXV

I do wish to thank my son,

Buddy with help in writing this story.

Thanks to Becky Gilbert

of Indiana for her work putting this together – and thanks to my granddaughter, Melissa,

for proofreading and formulating the book. And finally, thank you to my wife, Marie,

for having patience with me.

This is an entirely fictional work, taking place among imaginary people. All individuals, events, and places in this book are solely the imaginings of the author and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, incidents or places are purely coincidental.

I do wish to thank my son, Buddy with help in writing this story. Thanks to Becky Gilbert of Indiana for her work putting this together—and thanks to my granddaughter, Melissa, for proofreading and formulating the book. And finally, thank you to my wife, Marie, for having patience with me.

PREFACE

It was a very quiet night in this little Sicilian town. It was an evening where the heat was unbearable and it was a night you wished to take a stroll in the clear night, where a breeze now and then will come from the Mediterranean. This little street had not much traffic, no horses, mules or people. The streets were dark as there were only lights on the intersections and therefore anyone was unrecognizable unless you spoke to him and you recognized his voice.

It was this very night that Biasi decided to take a walk with his two sons, Giovanni and Andrea. After working on the farm for three days, he wished to be with his sons. After cleaning and having dinner, he decided to take his sons for a walk. They strolled to the Piazza, where he planned to meet his friends and discuss the day’s work or other social events. He bought the boys gelato for their walk home.

On the way home they took side streets that were shorter and faster. As they approached the small alley, Via di Morte, two shots rang out. Biasi dropped to the pavement.

The gunman approached Giovanni and asked him, Do you know who I am?

Si replied Giovanni. The gunman then turned the pistol on the boy and shot him to death. He then turned to Andrea and asked him the same question.

The shocked boy replied, No Signore!

Go home and keep quiet, answered the gunman.

At that moment a horseman who had heard the shots raced his horse down the alley. He found Francesco with the pistol in his hand. Running, Francesco turned and fired at the horseman, but the pistol did not fire. The horseman turned out to be Angelo, Biasi’s brother.

CHAPTER I

To continue the story we must go back in time before the event took place.

Mazara del Vallo, as this town was known, was about 160 kilometers southeast of Palermo, with a monarchy government. There was very little money. This town had a population of about 8,000 (90% were farmers that grew olives for oil, grapes for wine and almonds and vegetables for personal consumption.) Education was not compulsory and boys had to learn farming while the girls learned the chores around the house and cooking.

Any construction such as houses or churches was built by the townspeople unless you were fortunate enough to hire a master. There was one family who had not as much as the fortunate, the Agostos (Giovanni and Angela). They had six sons and one daughter, who died at an early age. All the sons, with the exception of Andrea, were told that they would have to go to school and get an education. Andrea, being the oldest, would have to follow his father’s footsteps by working the farm, as this is the custom of the Italian peasants.

Andrea was very disappointed for he wanted the education and didn’t want to stay in a town that had nothing to offer him.

While working on the church, Madre Azzunta on Via Garibaldi, Andrea’s mind drifted to the future and he debated with what to do. He had heard stories of people who had gone to America, where gold covered the streets and green dollars grew on trees, a myth that he did not know.

The next day as he left early for the farm on his mule, named Bella, in his two-wheel cart sitting next to him was his brother Vincenzo. Vincenzo, said Andrea, I have just come to the conclusion that I want to go to America. Continuing Andrea stated, I want to make my own life and see if I am fortunate enough to be successful.

Andrea! What will Papa and Mama say? Remember you are the oldest and we do depend on you. Where will you get the lira for the trip?

As Bella was galloping down Via Mariano toward the land, both of their minds were visualizing their thoughts. Do not mention to Papa or Mama what I mentioned. I will wait till I get to town in a few days, answered Andrea.

The peasants as they worked the farm, when planting especially, they will stay on the farms 3-4-5 and many times 6 days at a time in their built huts. Huts were designed as one large room, 15 feet by 15 feet and 12 feet high. These were made of blocks and cement with dirt floors. The living conditions were tough with straw beds on floors. They had a wood fire outside to cook whatever they were able to bring from home, usually hard bread that Mama had made. Most of the food was fava beans, vegetables and whatever little birds they were able to kill.

There are not many birds in Sicily, so they are a delicacy as were rabbits.

Giovanni and Salvatore were going to the other farmland to prepare the vineyards for the summer, to prune and to turn the ground. The pruning twigs were brought home to use for the fire. Olive branches that were cut were the best for cooking as the olive juice was in the vine.

With their other mule, Comodoro, Giuseppe, Biasi and Angelo would go where they were needed working for other farmers as a hired hand making as much as 800 lira ($.50) per hour.

Si, I have made up my mind. America it will be, yelled Andrea to himself. After they harvest the crops this fall and all the produce is in, I will plan the trip.

CHAPTER II

8000 people in Mazara del Vallo was a lot and yet small for a large little town. All the homes were made of concrete blocks taken from the ground and cement ones as stucco home, with rough wooden beams across the roof and covered with whatever they could find. Oil lamps were used to illuminate the rooms. The house had two bedrooms for the boys and one for Giovanni and Angela.

The kitchen served as the cooking and eating room. Mama would make bread or macaroni, as they were the daily food. There very seldom was meat, with the exception of a day that a rabbit would be brought home.

Streets were just wide enough for mules, horses or a wagon to travel down. To enter the house you must enter through a large gate leading to the courtyard.

The closest large city was Castela, which had wider streets, gas streetlights, a mayor, doctors and lawyers. The Province of Mazara del Vallo was Trapani. The local government was the police of the monarchy, Carabiniere, sort of plainclothes men. They also had uniformed police that spied on the people. If they didn’t like you that meant trouble.

Last but not least, the powerful Mano Nero (Black Hand) who controlled the people’s lives and livelihood. The head of this secret society was Materossa in Mazara del Vallo. He will help you sell your grapes or olives to an outside agent for a small fee or commission. He also owned the olive-grinding machine for oil selling by the lira. In Palermo lived the Capo di Capo, Alfonso.

One of the farms was located in the Cava di Cusa. It is not that this property was more productive than the others, but it did hold something special. This was a great historical piece of land. It got its name because of the many caves in the mountains. The legends say pirates and robbers hid their gold in these caves. Children would play in these caves, while peasants dug around these caves.

The greatest importance of this land is that history was made here approximately 2500 years ago. In or about 535 BC columns were dug out of the ground by slaves in sections. The slaves were prisoners of war and poor peasants of the area. The slaves would then roll the columns to the town of Selinunte, which was 15 kilometers from Cava de Cusa. The columns were used to build temples and orators Corridolo in the town of Selinunte.

Selinunte was a Greek city on the southwest shore of Sicily. The population of Selinunte was approximately 35,000 people. Selinunte was based on the Mediterranean across from Tunis, Libya and Africa. Along the Sicilian coastline were watchtowers for miles. They were to watch south for any attack that may come. This attack did come when the Carthaginians came from Africa and raided Selinunte. Selinunte was destroyed to the last person. Nothing was left. People and buildings were all destroyed. There were other Greek Cities in Sicily—Agrigento, Syracuse, Messina—but Selinunte stands out as the last outpost.

It was approximately 553 BC with the founding of the Roman Empire with the first King Romolus, thus ending the Greek hold on all parts of Italy including Sicily, Naples and Calabria.

CHAPTER III

Returning from the farmland, Andrea felt it was time to tell his mother and father of his plans.

Madre Mi, said Andrea. I want to go to America. There is nothing here for me especially for seven of us, Papa and my six brothers.

Cara Figlio, Mama cried, why must you leave? We will work together and everything will work out.

No, mama it is best that I leave. I do not plan to leave now, but after we harvest the land in the fall, continued Andrea, and in the meantime I will try to save for passage across the ocean.

Vincenzo replied, Mama, let him go. He is not happy here. He want to be on his own, and if he makes out good, he will mail money for you and Papa.

Giovanni, who was sitting in the corner of the house smoking his pipe, looked at his wife and sons. His heart felt low. It was his fault he was losing his son. If he makes out good, his brothers may want to go also. For Angela this would break her heart. Giovanni, not wanting to add any heartaches to his wife, turned around to her and lied, saying, Angela he may have something there. Maybe he will be fortunate in America and he will send for us to visit him. Then turning to his son, Andrea he asked, When do you plan to go?

After we harvest the crop in the fall, replied Andrea, not before then.

Well let us drop everything for now and let us be seated to eat. We will talk about everything later Giovanni commented.

After eating most of the men meet by the Piazza in the town to talk or exchange news as well as to talk about or discuss the days work. Many of the young as well as the old discuss their luck or failures of the day. Many stop by the coffee shop or the Circolo (clubhouse) and play cards or talk about certain individuals. Andrea was discussing his planned trip to America.

Many of the young men get into a huddle, discussing all the day’s doings as well as all the girls they would like to go out with, or whom they would like to sleep with. Many kept talking about Pauline, the town prostitute, she will sleep with anyone for a price especially older men, for they look for younger women. Women of the older men were not appealing in bed. It was in bed and out within seconds, nothing alluring or tempting—it was the same thing night after night or when the woman was not tired.

The piazza was larger than the side streets and each side was lined with stores, political clubs, social clubs and coffee shops. Twice a day the piazza was filled, afternoon and at night and also on Sundays after church mass. Many would walk up and down the piazza. Families would get involved on Sundays. Many of the young will eye each other or pass remarks and many eyes will strip a girl to picture her nudity under those clothes. Is her breast that large? Does she have a large ass? How will she be in bed? Many of these thoughts traveled in the young men’s minds. The brothers, Andrea—Vincenzo—Salvatore—Biasi, were no different. Their minds also traveled into ecstasy.

Before I leave, I better get myself a piece of ass, laughed Andrea

You better, yelled Vincenzo

Or when you get to America, you will have an American girl, joked Biasi

Strolling the piazza was only a spring and fall venture as the rest of the year was for work, with the exception of July and August, for those who were lucky to have a beach house down by the The Fountain on the Mediterranean. They will stay at the The Fountain until September, when they will all move back to the town.

CHAPTER IV

September arrived and everyone was busy getting his tools and ladders ready for the harvest. Starting in October, the grapes will be picked and, if there was a summer growth, it will be a great asset and bring in money. The better and larger the crop the better price you will get.

Agents from other cities were coming in to see what land was profitable to buy and to make a deal to buy the crop. Once completed it is the job of the farmer to pick and deliver it to the warehouse for distribution. The faster they pick it and deliver it the faster they will get their money and also get them ready to start picking the olives. Olives are normally picked after the grapes.

Preparing for the olive harvest includes: baskets, shoulder baskets, and ladders. Shoulder baskets are strapped around their necks, and, as they grab the olive branches with their fingers, straddle the olives into the small shoulder baskets. When they are full, they are transferred into a larger basket. A normal days work will break in roughly 20 baskets for two men. Olives that are picked are used for salads while any olives that fall to the ground are left there and are picked up and used for making olive oil. Again olives must be brought to an agent who inspects the olives and quotes a price per basket. This is a competitive game as there are many farmers who have thousands of baskets. If the olives are plentiful, then the farmer loses but if there is a shortage and the farmer has a good crop then he will gain.

There were also many farmers who were pressured into selling to certain oil refineries, which were controlled by the Mano Nero, the Black Hand. This farmer was the loser because the price was normally 30% to 35% less than the farmer would have received from the legal warehouse. Many farmers had no choice because many farmers borrowed money to purchase extra land to farm. Therefore, they were obligated to the Black Hand. It was sort of borrow from Paul to pay Peter.

Andrea was in a way happy, for this will be his last harvesting of the grapes and olives.

Andrea, Salvatore and their father headed for the farm to pick olives. On the way, Andrea picked a prickly pear from the cactus plant. They were in bloom and they were great to eat to start a day of labor.

After cleaning a few prickly pears, Andrea offered them to Salvatore and his father. Let us eat a few figurina before we go to work, said Andrea

Do they have any in America? asked Salvatore

I don’t know, but if they don’t I am going to miss them, replied Andrea

Papa, mangare, yelled Andrea.

His heart felt heavy, for he is going to really miss his mother and father as well as his brother.

Andrea worked hard, for as soon as the harvest was finished and all the olives and grapes were sold he felt he would be ready to plan his trip to America. They will spend three or four days at the farm. This way they will save much time running back and forth to town, a good 1½-hour each way.

* * *

By the first of November all the crops were in the warehouse for shipment. It seemed to be a good season. Papa and Mama turned to Andrea, Son, we feel you will be happy in going to America. Continuing Papa said, We had a good year so we may be able to help with transport to America.

We will give you 200,000 lira for your trip and spending money you may need, added Mama.

Cari, Mama, please do not give me too much, answered Andrea. Don’t let me worry about you and Papa.

Take it Andrea, yelled Salvatore and Biasi. They are here, but when you get there send them the gold from the via, joked Biasi.

Your uncle Giuseppe will be here tonight to see you and he wants to talk to you, Andrea, said his father.

Papa, I have about two or three weeks before I leave, replied Andrea

That night everyone was quiet, as they all thought of Andrea leaving. He would be the first Agosta in years to leave Italy for the new world. Many Italians already in the new world found happiness, while many others found misery. For the next few nights, neighbors would pass to wish Andrea well on his new adventure.

* * *

It was a week later when his uncle Gentile came to see him. Andrea, yelled his uncle; I plan to travel with you to America. I will not go alone, so when I heard you were going I felt I had family to travel with.

Bien, yelled Andrea. I won’t be scared anymore. Tomorrow we will go to Palermo to the American Consulate for their visas and work permits. We will then go to Trapani for our passports.

While we are in Palermo, we will stop by the ship line (Count Biancamare) to ask when the ship will leave Palermo, Zia Gentile answered.

Si, replied Andrea and find out how many liras it will cost.

* * *

On the following day, they took the train to Palermo. This will be the first for both of them to visit Palermo. The end of the line was Palermo. Via Di Roma was the street when they arrived in there. They asked where they might find the American Consulate. They were directed down via Di Roma. They were told that they would see a building with the American flag and two soldiers in front of it.

As they approached the consulate, they were a little nervous. They entered and were directed to a receptionist, who asked if he could help them.

Si, Signore, replied Gentile. My nephew and I wish to travel to America, and what are the procedures?

Fill out these papers and when you are finished bring them to me. If everything is in order then the doctor will examine you to see if you are both fit for travel and for entry into the United States, explained the receptionist.

Andrea and Zia Gentile completed filling out the forms. They then went for the examination and both of them passed. Upon passing they both received their visas and work permits.

As they were gone most of the day, they were now hungry. They stopped for some bread and cheese, which they both took with them for their trip back on the train. On the way to the train, they stopped by Costa’s Pier to inquire about passage on the ship, as to when it would sail and the cost. By getting all the information they then can plan when to leave, but first they will have to get their passports in Trapani. They were given all the particulars. The ship will leave the end of November and will arrive in Ellis Island, New York on December 14, 1907.

They were both happy that now they had a deadline. Tickets must be purchased on a certain date and passports were a requirement in order to purchase their tickets. Now to tell his mother and father and his brothers. Telling his mother will be the hardest, so on the way home he thought what and how to tell his mother. He will have to tell her right away, as passports and tickets must be obtained.

When he arrived home that night, his mother had baked and also made pasta. Andrea, where have you been all day? yelled his mother. Your father and brothers were also looking for you.

The table was set for dinner; wine, pasta with sauce and peas.

Madre e’ Padre mio. I will be leaving for America in about one month and Zia Gentile will be accompanying me, said Andrea. Please, do not be mad Madre mio. I will always love you. It is only that I cannot stay here. I want to learn and see what is on the other side of this great water, continued Andrea.

Andrea, answered his mother, I felt there would come a day that you would leave and I cannot hold you back. I know there is very little here. Your father will miss you, as you are his first son. Vincenzo, Biasi, Salvatore and Picolo Giuseppe will also miss you. I am very happy that Zia Gentile is going along with you as I feel better that he will be there to help you, continued his mother, When do you plan to leave so that we can plan to have a family send off.

Mama, I plan to leave about the end of November. As we have completed the harvest, I will be going to Trapani to get my passport and purchase the tickets, replied Andrea.

* * *

Tuesday was a beautiful day. The Sicilian sun was out, Zia Gentile passed the house. When he was in the courtyard, he yelled out Andrea, are you ready? We have to take the train to Trapani to pick up the passports and tickets.

Si Zia, I am coming, replied Andrea as they greeted each other with embrace.

They then left for the train. They had approximately 1 kilometer to walk to the station. The train was on time and they figured that they had a 1-hour ride to Trapani. Trapani was the county seat where all the files were kept on the inhabitants of Marsala, Castle, Compobello, Syracuse, Mazara, Ancoma and all towns west of Palermo.

They arrived and headed for the county courthouse. The line to the passport was not to long and they felt glad. It was their turn to approach the clerk, Have you ever been arrested? Got into any trouble with the law? Do you owe the monarchy any taxes? Have you any known sickness? asked the clerk.

Andrea answered No to all the questions. His uncle also answered no.

They took their pictures for the passport, stamped their books, and their destination New York. They paid and left with their passports. As the time was getting late, for they lost almost 5 hours, they went to the via Mazzini to obtain their tickets for passage. With the amount of lira they had, they were lucky to get passage below deck. It will normally hold 50 people but it already had 90 people, and they were told it would take 125 people squeezed together like animals.

Zia Gentile, let us hurry. We may still catch the last train to Compobello, yelled Andrea.

Si! Nephew, let us hurry as I am tired, answered Zia Gentile.

On Wednesday, Andrea got up and started thinking about America. They will be leaving the following Monday night. He wanted to run to the Piazza to see his friends, chew the fat with them and maybe pick up a girl. Maybe he will see Pauline, the town whore, as he was unsure of when he would get it again especially in America.

His mother made him a dish of fava beans. He loved them with his mother’s bread. They tasted very good. It was siesta time and he told his mother he was going to the piazza to see the boys. On the way, of all the people for him to come face to face with was Pauline.

Andrea, I am glad I met you. I do understand that you are leaving for America. You are lucky, teased Pauline.

Pauline, I was thinking of you. I will need you before I leave, replied Andrea. I have a few lira for a good time.

Andrea, put you denaro away. This will be on the house. Sort of a gift for your trip to America. answered Pauline When I finish with you, you will not forget this Sicilian girl.

They went to Pauline’s house. As she was washing herself, Andrea got ready in bed. Pauline came to the bed. She was completely nude. She had large sagging breasts. Her stomach was flat, a bushy pubic area and a large ass.

You will not forget this night, Andrea! yelled Pauline as she jumped into bed with Andrea.

Andrea was ready to receive Pauline and he did not waste time as he entered her. Pauline yelled with satisfaction as Andrea pressed harder and harder.

Boy, Andrea, you didn’t even give me time to get ready, Pauline stated. I hope you have more in you.

Pauline, today is an all day session. You are going all ways with me, replied Andrea.

With that he turned Pauline around and penetrated her rectum. Pauline screamed with joy. This boy is going to show me a great time, thought Pauline. This is going to be a great day for Andrea.

* * *

Thursday, Mama approached Andrea and asked him, What do you have planned for today?

Mama, we have their passports and tickets to leave for America. We will be leaving Monday, Andrea replied. I plan to go to the piazza to see mio amici, but I do plan to be home early. Andrea hugged his mother and kissed her. I will miss you Madre Mio! cried Andrea.

It was early when he arrived in the piazza. Giovanni, Gaetano, and Angelo were on the corner of via Carvallo and via Garibaldi. As they talked, Gaetano joked around saying that Garibaldi was in New York, 50 years ago. Marconi sent his wireless from New York beginning of the year and now you are going. What are you going to do? asked Gaetano.

I don’t know, answered Andrea. When I get there I will find out what I am suited for as long as it is not farming. I plan to see you fellows tomorrow night. My family will have a little party for me and my uncle Gentile, stated Andrea

* * *

Friday evening smelled of fish, pasta, garlic, oil, cookies and bread as Mama and her friends were doing a lot of cooking. The courtyard was already being invaded with uncles, aunts, cousins and friends. The Crittis, Stallones, Naplia, Gentiles, and others were all there to wish Andrea well. Andrea danced the Mazuka with his mother.

Everyone finally got up to do the Tarantella. It was late by the time every one left.

Sempre parla Italian! Aunt Fifi shouted to Andrea, Don’t forget your roots.

I won’t, Andrea replied

One by one they exited the courtyard. Andrea was tired but wanted to see Pauline.

* * *

Saturday and Sunday Andrea would be home with his mama and papa.

Papa came over to him and put his arms around Andrea’s shoulder, and then gave him a final speech. Figlio, mio (my son), you may not like the dirt they stand on, but this dirt is the life of the whole world. If they did not have it, there would be no food. God has created this land to grow the food put on the table of many families. The work is not for all who can toil the land; it is for a selected few. They sweat, backbreaking, calloused hands, cuts, bruises and heartaches when their land does not produce. You pray for rain, pray for sun, pray for a good harvest so you can put food on your table and most of all you pray that you have your heart in what you do. I know my son that you are not happy here and that you feel you may find your fortune elsewhere and you may be right. You will never be happy unless you find out for yourself. For this reason, my son Andrea, I give you my blessings and may ‘Mary, mother of God, be with you and bless you. And with this said, Giovanni Agosta, turned to his son and kissed him as they embraced each other.

We will miss you brother, yelled Salvatore, Biasi, Vincenzo and Giuseppe.

Andrea walked over to the little guy, his 18 month old brother Giuseppe, picked him up and said, Peppina Picola, you are the one I will really miss. I will always write to you for Mama.

All the good-byes were said, and Andrea felt low and downhearted.

* * *

It was Monday morning, when the sun was not even out yet, that Andrea and Zia Gentile bid fare well to their families. Salvatore with the donkey, Bella, rode them to the train station to catch the 6:00 am train for Palermo. Boat time was 4:45 PM sailing at 8:00 PM.

Count Biancamare was the Italian ship owned by Costa Line that they boarded and would be their home for the next 18 days. At 8:00 PM as the ship pulled out of the pier, Andrea’s heart skipped a beat. As they cleared the pier, Andrea turned toward the railing, looked around and pulled a stone out of his pocket. Saying something, he then threw the stone into the water.

Why did you do that, Andrea, asked Zia Gentile.

Uncle, I threw the stone as an omen that I do not plan to return. I love my parents, my family and my country, but the land is a death warrant for all that work it, Andrea stated.

Arrivederci Italia—Buongiorno—Stati Uniti, Andrea added.

CHAPTER V

The Agosto household was now quiet with Andrea gone. Now Salvatore was the oldest son. Vincenzo will help in the farm. Biasi will help when he can as he was attending school.

Time will pass when they will all grow up and leave, thought Angela, who already missed her son, Andrea. Turning to the statue of the Holy Mother, Angela said Cara Madra per favore, guide my son where ever he goes. Let me be honest and generous to all.

Angela and John were contributing their labor service in completing the church, Madre Azzunta, on via Garibaldi. Their sons had gone to the farm to work and Angela had Giuseppe Picolo with her. The boys will be pruning and trimming the olive trees and grapevines for the coming year.

* * *

1905—Finally a letter arrived from America from Andrea and Zia Gentile. When they opened the letter, they found $20 American money he had sent to help. The letter started to explain his passage across the great waters. It took twenty-one days to cross, and finally he