Mezzojuso Heritage Pages

	Discovering Our Mezzojuso Ancestry & Heritage
	Article by Anthony Frasca

Music: "E Dimmi Che Non Vuoi Morire" - by P. Pravo

Anthony Frasca - - - E-mail: tfmb97@ibm.net

"Our Mezzojuso Reunion";

Written on 10 May 1999.

My mother's half of my family hails from Mezzojuso, a small town slightly to the south of Palermo, Sicily. My grandmother -- having been born in New York City and repatriated back to Sicily when her father had made enough money in the United States to buy the land he wanted back home -- brought my mother, her twin sister and my then-in-utero uncle back to New York City after World War II.

All my life I had heard about Mezzojuso; it was practically mythical in my mind. At that time, to the best of my understanding, no one from our family had been back since the late 1950's / early 1960's. The parting after the war had not been entirely amicable. Times had been hard. No one ever mentioned that living relatives might be there.

By September 1986 I had decided to go to Europe for a month, specifically to Great Britain and Italy. In the context of lots of family marriages, and lots of new great-grandchildren for my grandmother -- whom I adore and revere -- I felt a personal need to give back something to my family -- at that point marriage was far from my mind. So, I decided that rather than tour Italy from the northern cities south to Rome, I would do Rome and points south -- including a trip specifically to Sicily at least to see the town of my mother and grandmother, and bring back pictures.

My grandmother reluctantly told me the house number and name of the street where she lived; where my mother and aunt were born -- Via Simone Cuccia. Again, no mention was made of possible living relatives.

I went from London to Rome, from Rome to Naples, and from Naples took a 13-hour train ride down the boot, across the Straits of Messina, into Palermo.

I arrived in Palermo in the dead of night, was unable to find a place to stay, and ended up sleeping between bushes next to the tarmac of an abandoned gas station under the stars. The next morning I was attacked by a roving pack of street dogs, and having survived that without injury, I rented a room, and feeling like Indiana Jones, I wandered Palermo the rest of the day taking in the sights, eating the street food, trying to find out how to get to Mezzojuso.

As luck would have it, there were actually public buses going to this fabled town of my ancestors -- I discovered this fact just in time to grab my duffel bag from the hotel and jump on the last bus of the day.

The bus to Mezzojuso took me up dust-colored hills along curving Italian highways bordered by prickly pear bushes, while little Fiats darted all around us. Sadly, the last bus to Mezzojuso was also the last bus FROM Mezzojuso for the day -- basically, the driver made a route of drop-offs in several of the neighboring towns, returned to Mezzojuso to pick up passengers, and drove back to Palermo.

I had one hour. In that hour I hiked through the town, duffel bag on my back, up streets that were stairs, along more typical streets that curved lazily back upon themselves.

I almost panicked a couple of times, fearful I'd get lost, miss the bus and be forced to sleep rough again. After Palermo the night before I wasn't eager to meet what wandered in the Sicilian hills. I spoke to several of the locals in my limited -- but rapidly improving -- Italian, expressly seeking a place to stay for the night. No dice. There are no hotels in the town.

Reluctantly, I boarded the bus when it came and let it carry me dejectedly back to Palermo, all the while planning the mother of all photo-ops the next day. Mezzojuso existed. I had the technology. I would not be denied.

In Palermo I reclaimed my hotel room, took a long nap, and over an excellent, late dinner, planned the next day's assault.

The earliest bus to Mezzojuso arrived there about 11:30 AM, the last one out left about 3:30 PM. I would get there early -- this time with just a water bottle, my camera and extra film. I did just that, and wandered the town blissfully, the very obtrusive American in shorts -- no one wears shorts in Sicily -- snapping pictures and telling anyone who asked about my connection to the town and why I was there.

In the course of wandering the streets looking for Via Simone Cuccia, I began to collect an "entourage" of local children, many on bikes, who thought I was the most interesting thing going.

I found the house where my mother was born, really just wanting to snap some pictures and head away unnoticed, but with a dozen kids hovering around I was somewhat less than unobtrusive. So, I knocked on the door, introduced and explained myself, and asked if I could take some pictures.

 

Via Simone Cuccia, Mezzojuso, in September 1986

Procession with horses tied together "a cunnutta" ; the former Bellone house where Tony Frasca's mother was born; Tony Frasca on horseback.

Photos: Courtesy of Anthony Frasca, a Mezzojuso descendant in the USA.

 

 

The residents graciously agreed, and not only let me take outdoor shots, but some indoor shots as well. They invited me in for melon and water, and then told me -- to my utter astonishment -- that I had living relatives in the town, and they'd taken the liberty of contacting them. My cousins were waiting for me on the other side of the town!

The family gave me a loaf of bread to bring, and a man who would turn out to be my mother’s second cousin -- a living man who bore my grandmother’s maiden name -- met me.

After some fairly astute questioning to determine that I was who I said I was and not some "lone plains drifter", out to con them out of whatever for whatever reason, I was accepted into a house full of my heretofore-unknown relatives … a whole civilization of people who looked remarkably like me and mine, but had been unknown to me all of my life. One little girl, a five-year-old cousin with my grandfather's last name, looked exactly like a picture of my mother and my aunt as children coming to America.

 

 

Mezzojuso, September 1986

Photo: Courtesy of Anthony Frasca, a Mezzojuso descendant in the USA.

 

 

Since that trip to Mezzojuso, there has been a steady commerce from our side to theirs, and some return visits from the old country to America as well. I myself have never been back.

On my return my grandparents expressed very little interest in the pictures of the town, or in the current goings-on back in the old country. On the contrary, I became privileged to painful stories of the misdeeds and ill will that led up to the emigration, rather than gratitude and joy at the reunion. My grandfather refused to speak to his brother over the phone. Overwhelming is an underwhelming description of that day.

There's a lot more to this -- meeting all of my grandfather's living brothers, seeing an authentic street festival in the town, lots of good food, huge insight into my ancestry and myself, and not least, the joy in my mother's voice when I called her from Mezzojuso and put her on the phone with her long lost cousins.

 

 

La Festa di San Giuseppe, Mezzojuso, during late September 1986

Saint Joseph, whose feast day is also celebrated on 27 September locally in Mezzojuso, is the patron saint of Mezzojuso's most ancient parochial parish of Maria Santissima Annunziata - Most Holy Mary of the Annunciation of the Roman Rite, rededicated in 1572, but it was actually founded by the Normans at about 1072 as Maria Santissima Gloriosa - Most Holy Glorious Mary.

Photo of the St. Joseph Feast: Courtesy of Anthony Frasca, a Mezzojuso descendant in the USA.

 

 

I’ve since changed careers, migrated myself to the southeast, gone back to school, married, and in general moved very far away from Italy and things Italian. My mother and aunt have become the main players in relations between the two sides, and my cousin Tom De Angelo has risen to be an outstanding and energetic family historian.

Although some of the aftermath of my visit has rendered it bittersweet, memories of my trip to Mezzojuso are some of my most vivid and fond, and I take quiet pride in my role in the re-unification of one side of my family.

	Pace e bene,
	Anthony Frasca

Discovering Our Mezzojuso Ancestry & Heritage

 

Blackburn, Mollye Bilao - - - "A Little of My Family History, and My Visit to Mezzojuso"; written on 20 April 1997. - - - "Cucidate: Fig Cookies for Christmas, A Mezzojuso Recipe"; written on 15 December 1997.

Briggs, Thomas - - - "My Family and I Visit Mezzojuso (during July, 1990)"; written shortly after the visit, and updated on 26 October 1997.

Cusimano, John - - - "My Trip to Mezzojuso (in the Province of Palermo)"; written on 7 November 1994.

De Angelo, Thomas - - - "My 'Discovery' of Mezzojuso"; written on 29 November 1999.

Di Stefano, Richard - - - "My Mezzojuso Immigrant Ancestors (Who Arrived in the U.S.A. in 1890)"; written on 1 November 1997.

Dunne, Laura Cutaia - - - "Genealogical Research on My Family from Campofelice di Fitalia"; written on 25 March 1999.

Frasca, Anthony - - - "Our Mezzojuso Reunion"; written on 10 May 1999.

Gallo, Frank - - - "Coincidence or Destiny? An Amazing Surprise during My Mezzojuso Research"; written on 29 April 1998.

Lagattuta, Salvatore Joseph - - - "My Family History from Mezzojuso"; written on 8 October 1999.

Lagattuta, Salvatore Joseph - - - "Remembrance of Visiting Mezzojuso (during the Summer of 1969)"; written on 26 April 1997.

Schiró, Anthony - - - "Mezzojuso Memories: Researching My Ancestry"; written on 26 October 1997.

Tavolacci, Giovanni - - - "I Soldati Garibaldini da Mezzojuso nel 1860" - "Garibaldi's Soldiers from Mezzojuso in 1860"; written on 12 April 1999. - - - "Campofelice di Fitalia e Mezzojuso" - "Campofelice di Fitalia and Mezzojuso"; written on 12 April 1999.

 

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