[Rally]

SUBuddha, the stories go on, and are important.  My children know their Italian heritage but I suspect my grandchildren only relish the now famous surname.  The stories of successful immigrant families are all the same, I think, whether hispanic, asian, or European.  Early African, sadly is different, and Native Americans were never immigrants in the first place (well, not for a very long time.). My grandfather left his village at age 11 ( so the story goes, confirmed by my Italian relatives) to seek work in German mines, crossing the foothills of the Alps in the process.  At 16 he returned, claimed his childhood sweetheart (!  Think about that) and traveled on foot to Genova, where he bought passage to America.  What drove him?  What pulled him?  When I knew him he was old, illiterate, and barely fluent in English.  His favorite expression was "managia l'America!"  Before I knew him he returned to Italy by boat to bury his father.  When I knew him he often expressed a desire to return.  When I asked him why he didn't he said he wanted to leave something for his sons.  Daughters mattered less to him.  On his death he left each son $6,000.00.  When I lived with my relatives in Endenna (pop then 800) I naturally asked about my grandfather.  They told me he had been called girella because as a child he played incessantly with a spinning top, that he had "abducted" my grandmother, and was lost to the family.  Over the fireplace of the family home was a portrait of my great-grandfather.  He wore a mustache and so, at that time, did I.  It was like looking in a mirror.  They took to calling me Francesco secundo.  My grandmother left me a hectare of vineyard on the steep hillside overlooking the village.  I helped harvest the grapes, but my cousins made it very clear that if I intended to claim ownership I had better be ready to fight . . . . And repay 70 years taxes.  I let it rest.

[Rally]

SUBuddha, the stories go on, and are important.  My children know their Italian heritage but I suspect my grandchildren only relish the now famous surname.  The stories of successful immigrant families are all the same, I think, whether hispanic, asian, or European.  Early African, sadly is different, and Native Americans were never immigrants in the first place (well, not for a very long time.). My grandfather left his village at age 11 ( so the story goes, confirmed by my Italian relatives) to seek work in German mines, crossing the foothills of the Alps in the process.  At 16 he returned, claimed his childhood sweetheart (!  Think about that) and traveled on foot to Genova, where he bought passage to America.  What drove him?  What pulled him?  When I knew him he was old, illiterate, and barely fluent in English.  His favorite expression was "managia l'America!"  Before I knew him he returned to Italy by boat to bury his father.  When I knew him he often expressed a desire to return.  When I asked him why he didn't he said he wanted to leave something for his sons.  Daughters mattered less to him.  On his death he left each son $6,000.00.  When I lived with my relatives in Endenna (pop then 800) I naturally asked about my grandfather.  They told me he had been called girella because as a child he played incessantly with a spinning top, that he had "abducted" my grandmother, and was lost to the family.  Over the fireplace of the family home was a portrait of my great-grandfather.  He wore a mustache and so, at that time, did I.  It was like looking in a mirror.  They took to calling me Francesco secundo.  My grandmother left me a hectare of vineyard on the steep hillside overlooking the village.  I helped harvest the grapes, but my cousins made it very clear that if I intended to claim ownership I had better be ready to fight . . . . And repay 70 years taxes.  I let it rest.