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story to share!
Asperino D'Alfonso
ASPERINO@webtv.net
Recollections of Lu Lette, 1934 and 1970
[Asperino's parents and grandparents were born in Lu Lette, and he was married there in 1934. He returned in 1970, and several times over the years since then, and he describes for us the changes he has seen in the town.]
My parents, Antonio D'Alfonso and Cesidia Di Biase, were born in Lettomanoppello. I grew up in a little section of Cliffwood, New Jersey called Genoa. Everybody that lived in Genoa was from Lu Lette, about fifty families. Most everyone was related in one way or another...Mancini, Di Paolo, Rosati, Di Biase, Di Matteo, Castellucci, Ferrante, Addario, to name a few. We had all the traditional celebrations...bands, fireworks, stands...we even had a small church which the men of Genoa built themselves, and an Italian priest would come on Sundays and feast days from another church.
My first trip to Lu Lette was by boat in 1934, with my mother. It was my mother's first trip back since she left Lu Lette in 1909 to join my father in America. I was 18 years old. We left New York on April 6, 1934 aboard the S.S. Volcania and arrived in Naples on April 20th. The trip from New York to Naples was great! There was a band from Pescara returning that had been in New York at an Italian feast. They played day and night on deck, with a beautiful moon every night. We took a train from Naples to le Scaffa [Scafa is a town with a railroad station which is the nearest one to LuLette, about 5 miles]...no air conditioning! We walked from le Scaffa for an hour and then a Lettese came along with an ox and wagon and gave us a ride to my mother's cousin (Di Biase) in Lu Lette. There were no cars or buses. I married my wife on July 22, 1934 in Lettomanoppello. My wife's mother was a DeStefanis. The DeStefanis family owned and operated a flour mill--mulino--which was powered by the water in the ravine. In dialect they called the ravine "le vrich" (phonetic spelling), meaning gravel. The ravine was so-called because the bed of the ravine is all gravel. My wife's father was a Donatelli. The Donatelli family was well known as scalpellini--stone cutters. My wife's brother, Evangelist, was a scalpellino and worked for Silvino Donatelli. Evangelist built a side altar in the church of Volto Santo in Manoppello; it's on the right side as you go into the church.
Lu Lette 66 years ago: I'm talking about Lu Lette, not the cities. Lu Lette in 1934 was the same as it was here in 1900. They had no cars. They had no heat. They had no stoves; they had fireplaces with hanging kettles for cooking. They had no electricity (electricity was brought to the village about 1949-1950, after World War II, but it was not available in the homes until 1955-1956.) They had community fountains for water. They carried water with a five gallon copper water can on their heads from the fountains. They would make a doughnut from a towel, place it on their head, and set the water can on it. They did laundry at the ravine, using large rocks as wash boards. On laundry days women would gather at the ravine and do their laundry and sing. You could hear them for miles....
Lu Lette 30 years ago: Again, I'm talking about Lu Lette, not the cities. Lu Lette in 1970 was the same as it was here in 1945. They had motor scooters and some had old cars. They had wood stoves for heat and cooking. They had community wash fountains with concrete wash boards. They had no refrigeration--the beer that was available was served warm...
When we went back to Lu Lette again in 1970 we went by plane, rented a car and drove. We spent two months. I would have stayed two years. I've visited 3 times since then, in 1975, 1993 and 1998. I'm 84 years old now, but maybe I will go again, next spring or thereabouts. No place in the world is as beautiful as our country [America], but I'll tell you, Lu Lette is special!
Bonnie Rulli
rocalana@netrover.com
"Bobbing for Bread"
My brother in law, Domenico Rulli used to take his family's sheep and goats to Foss Sant'Angelo, the ravine between Lettomanoppello and Roccamorice, to graze during the day. They would always take a loaf of bread with them to eat during the day. Of course this bread was very crusty and hard, so they would find a spring and dig a hole in the loose stones until they had a pool of clear, cold water, into which they would toss chunks of this bread. Then they would "bob" for the bread chunks with their mouths, much like bobbing for apples here. It was a little game to pass the time while the flock grazed, and a memory to keep and pass down in the family.
Bonnie Rulli and Sara Addario
roccalett@hotmail.com
"Le Jnestre"
There are many names for this flowering shrub that grows wild in abandoned pastures on the mountainsides around Lettomanoppello and Roccamorice; it is called Inestra or Jnestre in dialect, Ginestra in Italian, or, in English, Spanish Broom. It's a pretty sight in summer with its bright yellow flowers and fragrant aroma. People used to use the dried branches in fires because they would create sparks, like sparklers, when lit. The stalks were also used in basket making and to make a kind of twine. The following is a dialect poem about Jnestre, written by Anna Basti. It was provided to us by Mario Iezzoni, and the English translation was done by Costantino Conte, his cousin Fedora De Crecentiis, and her husband Nicolo. To find out more about jnestra, click here or here.
Quande lu sole je cchiu 'nfuche' te,
Manne scrizze 'nne pe' lu ciele
Sgrejje di fo' che ardende
Sopra la terre.
Scuffene di 'bbotte li povere sgrejje
Zi trafonne dentr'a la rocce....
Ma, quande giugne z'avvicine, a cioffe, a cioffe,
Tra lu verde cupe de le culline
Ariesce fore nglhe tutte lu splendore
e le jinestre zi culore.
Pe la povera ggende amamande di luce,
A bboffe, a bboffe,
Di ragge d'ore le jinestre spo'ppe
Gne tante fijje piccirille di lu sole.
When the sun is very hot
It sends its rays into the sky
And sends a fire of burning rays
Over the earth.
When it thunders, the poor rays
Sink inside the crevices of the rocks....
But, when June arrives, little by little,
Among the dark green of the hills
With all its splendor appears the jnestra
With its beautiful colour.
For the poor people, who are lovers of light,
Little by little,
The golden rays burst open the buds
Of the jnestra, that are like little children of the sun.
John Palumbo
jpalumbo@octagoncap.com
A Bit Of Roccalano History:
There is a story about the end of feudalism in La Rocca which will be of interest to people researching the history of the town. The decline of feudalism happened in the early nineteenth century as told to me by my grandfather Giovanni, before he died in 1983:
Around 1800 the local seignors, who were called Orazio, lived in the large house across from the church of San Donato in Roccamorice. They practised "prima notta"--insisting on spending the first honeymoon night with the new brides of La Rocca. This practice had occured for some time and was also common among the French seigneurs, who may have introduced it to Abruzzo during Napoleonic times.
During the early 1800s, about 50 years before the birth of my great-great grandfather, Nicolo Palumbo, a young Roccamorice couple married, and, as was the custom, the new bride spent the wedding night with Seignor Orazio. The young groom could not bear the thought of it, and early one Sunday morning he killed the two Orazio brothers with a knife poisoned with the residue of hot peppers. The murderer fled to the caves and joined the brigands, who were common in the area at that time. The Orazios were entombed under the floor of the church at San Giorgio by the happy townspeople. My grandfather did not tell me the name of the new groom, except that his first name was Nicolino.
This event's main significance is that it marked the beginning of the end of feudalism in La Rocca. It would be great to know who this Nicolino was, and who his descendents are! The fact that the Orazios were buried at the church of San Giorgio is a clue, but I have not been able to find what family Nicolino came from. Perhaps one of the visitors to this website would know?
Costantino Conte
village29@webtv.net
A Communication Problem! ;o)
My grandmother, Nunziata Di Lallo, came from Lu Lette to the US with my parents back in the 1920s, to live in Barre VT. She spoke only dialect, no English. One day in 1923 a peddler selling cheese came to the door, greeting my grandmother with the word "Cheese!" She thought that he said Ccide!, which means "kill" in dialect, so she chased him down the street with a broom, thinking he had come to murder her!
Costantino Conte
village29@webtv.net
Justice Miscarried in Lu Lette:
My grandfather was Nicolo Conte, called Nicolo di Tambura in Lettomanoppello because he played the drum in the town band. He was also the town barber in Lettomanoppello many years ago. Barbers had good sharp knives. One day a fellow came in to my grandfather's shop and asked to borrow a knife. My grandfather was a good-hearted man and gave him one. The fellow then went and used this knife to kill another man who had done him wrong! The man went to prison for the murder, but my grandfather ALSO was sentenced to seven years in prison for loaning him the knife!
Costantino Conte
village29@webtv.net
Brothers and Sisters Are the Same Everywhere :o)
My father used to say a dialect poem to us, about a little girl who used to instigate and try to get her little brother, Chic, into trouble. She would say to Chic: "Chic, push me." So he would give her a shove, then she would tell her mother: "MA! Chic is pushing me!" Then she would say again, "Chic, push me," and again she would tell her mother "MA! Chic pushed me." The cute thing about this is the way it sounds in Italian:
Tocca mi Chic.
MA! Chic mi tocca!
Tocca mi Chic.
MA! Chic mi tocca!
Tocca mi Chic.
MA! Chic mi tocca!
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