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Email Bonnie & Sara

8/27/00
Michael Klotz
klotzy_m@email.msn.com
My Adventure in Lettomanoppello
In June 2000 Michael visited Manoppello and Lettomanoppello for the first time, on a quest to find Romasco and Di Pietrantonio relatives of his family. What follows below are letters he sent home about his adventure. The letters bring to life with vivid descriptions the incredible warmth and hospitality of the people of those villages.

Michael Klotz

LA MIA AVVENTURA
IN LETTOMANOPPELLO

Part 1
Where to begin? I arrive in Manoppello in the middle of a very hot day, starving. I barely ate breakfast, had a very small dinner the night before and find myself in a tiny, tiny village where everything closes from 12:30 to 4:30; it is 12:34. I mean everything closes, not a soul in the steet and it is easily 90. I manage to find San Pancrazio (church) and confirm this with the only person foolish enough to be out in the sun besides me. I manage to ask and confirm the location in my broken Italian.

The church of San Pancrazio, Manoppello

So I am alone, haven't eaten in about 20 hours, it's god-awful hot, nothing or no one will be around until at least 4:30 and I am dizzy from not drinking any water. I find a public fountain, which normally would be labeled either Acqua Potabile or Acqua Non Potabile but this one is not labeled. I am too thirsty and nauseous to care so I drink like a horse. Even the stray dogs, and there are many, are lying in the shade. Eventually one of them feels strong enough to start barking and once started 3, 5, 8 dogs come out to join in. They throw a few growls in for good measure, and right about then I decide that for my Grandmother and Great-Aunt I will go to Lettomanoppello, only for them.

Manoppello is built entirely on a ridge above a valley that empties out into the Adriatic sea. Lettomanoppello is higher up on another ridge about 6 kilometers away. Lettomanoppello has a commanding view of everything. To the east below Manoppello is Pescara and the Adriatic sea. To the west and south is the Parco Nazionale d'Abruzzo with the Abruzzo mountains reaching heights of over 7000 feet.

In Lettomanoppello I managed to find the new church, which is not old enough to be the same church my family attended. Suddenly, I find a blessing! A gelateria that is open! I go inside, order a cono grande of Fragola, Limone and Pistacchio as well as an acqua minerale. They do not serve food, so what could I do? The woman behind the counter asks me, in very fast Italian, why I am here and where I am from. I explain that my Nonna's parents are from Italy and I am looking for the old San Nicola church. She explains it is closed because of an earthquake in 1984. I ask about the Di Matteo's, there is much talking, most of which I don't understand, a few boys run out and they bring back a man, Rocco, who speaks English! He is from Lettomanoppello and is here with his wife on vacation. We talk and another boy brings Giuseppe Di Matteo, 84 years old--but he is not related. Rocco takes me around to San Nicola to take pictures, everyone in town wants to know who I am and each person sends me to this person and that person. Rocco brings me to his parents' house, his mother brings out refreshments and tells me her house is my house. I ask about the restaurant La Noce so Rocco takes me there, it is closed. Rocco takes me to the house of the woman from the gelateria. She will take me back to La Noce to speak to the family. Rocco tells me if they don't take care of me I can be his guest for dinner and off he goes. Now I'm back to broken Italian.

We go back to La Noce to speak to Angeladea Di Pietrantonio about Giuseppe Di Pietrantonio, her father, who may or may not be the son of the man who married one of my relatives. Anyway, the result is that I am given a room in her house, invited to dinner and told that their grand-daughter, Cristina, will take me to the city office and the church tomorrow. Cristina is studying English in school and speaks very well.

Now remember, my friends, by now I haven't eaten for at least 24 hours except for the gelato, and it is about 5 p.m. Angeladea tells me dinner will be around 8:30! Worse yet, she, her mother who is about 88, and her sister-in-law take me into the kitchen to talk while they cook. A sweeter torture no man has faced. The smells instantly start my mouth watering and I fight back the nausea long enough to excuse myself to my room.

I had come to La Noce to speak to Antonio Di Pietrantonio who is the brother of Angeladea and speaks English. Unfortunately he is in the hospital but is OK. At the dinner table is Assunta, his wife. Also Natasca, Cristina and Giovanni, children of Antonio and Assunta. And also at the table is Angeladea's brother Giovanni. Finally I can completely explain my mission to everyone--but first the meal! Ah the meal! First prosciutto con melone (with cantelope) then spaghetti with red sauce, then grilled potatoes, tomatoes and meat (all with rosemary), then salad and some fish, then fruit, then cakes, cookies and coffee. Mama mia! I was delirious with pleasure and all the vino that kept finding its way into my glass.

The Di Pietrantonio family who operate La Noce restaurant in Lettomanoppello. They took Michael under their wing and into their home, helping him find his long lost relatives. From left to right, Assunta Romasco; her husband, Antonio Di Pietrantonio; Cristina, their daughter; Angeladea (Antonio's sister); Carlo (the man who helped Michael), Giovanni (Antonio's brother); Natasca (Antonio and Assunta's daughter); Antonio's mother Antonietta Conte; and in front is Giovanni, Antonio and Assunta's son.

Part 2
[When last we left our hero was giddy with overdoses of food, kindness and wine. With his stomach full, he prepares to tell the family....]

The Story

So over coffee I explained my story using some Italian and Cristina's strong understanding of English. We determined that Giuseppe, Angeladea's father, was not the man I was hoping to find. But they told me that Assunta's father, who happens to be a Romasco, might know something. They also tell me that Cristina will take me to the city hall as well as the church to look into my family history.

In the morning I have lattes and cakes with Angeladea and Assunta. A wild old man ("pazzo"--crazy) comes over and tells me many stories but that will have to be another time. Cristina comes down and takes me over to the city hall, but first she takes me to a book store so I can buy an Italian/English dictionary so we can communicate better. We then make our way to the church to meet Don Stefano with many stops and sidetracks to talk to numerous Di Matteo's, Romasco's, etc... Don Stefano takes us into the records room and pulls out books older than most buildings in the USA. Everything is in Latin and over time we manage to confirm and correct most of the information I already have regarding the Di Matteo's who are from Lettomanoppello. Cristina tells me we will have to go to Manoppello to find the Romasco's and also to the country to speak to her grandfather Romasco. But first we go home for lunch, hot damn!

This time we start with pasta, then grilled meat sauteed in red sauce, pan fried chicken, spinach, potatoes, zucchini, fruit and vino of course. Then, to help everything settle, cakes, cookies and coffee. I don't think they realize how much trouble they will have trying to get rid of me. At 3 p.m. we are going to Manoppello.

Manoppello
First we go to Assunta Romasco's father's house to see if he knows anything. Unfortunately, we are not related, which is a bummer because I really like these people. Then we go to Manoppello, to San Pancrazio Church which is also closed for some reason or another. Manoppello is smaller than Lettomanoppello if you can believe it. We start talking to a group of men sitting in the shade, common everywhere in Italy. Words go back and forth, and I understand some, enough to know there is a woman who can help. Another man named Rocco, not an uncommon name, knows much of the history of Manoppello. He tells us the church can't help us because during the time we want information, 1860-1900, they had a visiting priest from another town. So nothing was recorded like in Lettomanoppello. He takes us to a woman, who must be 90 plus, who tells us that the people I am looking for, Antonia Romasco, Giuseppe Di Pietrantonio and Assunta Romasco are alive and in Manoppello! Unbelievable, these are the children of Giuseppe Romasco who is the brother of my great-grandmother, Anna Romasco. I never expected to find any real information, let alone actual relatives. Well she tells us where they live, and we head back to Lettomanoppello, leaving the reunion for tomorrow. Now it is dinnertime--Ciao!

Late Evening in Lettomanoppello
It is amazingly clear to me, especially in a town like this, how many ties these people have with America. They all, and I mean all, have family in America, most of whom they don't hear from ever again. As I walk these narrow streets, everywhere people are talking. Though I don't understand much, I do understand one word very clearly--Americano. Everywhere people are curious. Am I the grandson of their brother who left when he was 18, never to be heard from again? The all want to help me, because they all hope that their relatives will do the same as me. Some of these people went to America to work and then returned after they saved enough money. In little towns like this it is hard to find work; many go to far away towns, some work in America and leave their children here, most don't work very much. With each step I take through this town I am greeted with smiles and always, always the echoing word-- Americano--follows me.

The Next Day
When I awake I am nervous and unsure what will happen. Part of me wants to meet these people I have looked for, and part of me isn't sure what will be expected. Do I stay with them? Anyway, we go to Manoppello to get Rocco, who happens to arrange to get the key to San Pancrazio Church so I can get a look inside and take pictures. Then we head to each person's house.

I'm not going to go into each and every reunion. Everyone was very excited to see and meet me, they all wanted to hear about the family in America. Everyone broke out some type of beverage and of course food. I met many people and children, unsure exactly how they related to me and my family. I took pictures of all and got all of their addresses so I could send them pictures of my family here in America.

They were eager to hear about how we were all getting along, and each of them wanted to know when the rest of the family would be coming back for a visit. When the day was over I was exhausted, stuffed, a little drunk, and wired from the espresso.

Their homes looked like homes anywhere, though some of them had chickens in their yard. They had children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They welcomed me as an honored guest, were sorry to see me leave and hoped, truly hoped, they would hear from their Famiglia d'America. I told them I hoped to be back next year with my family and especially my grandmother.

They were happy to hear things went well for Anna Romasco and the family that she created, proud would be a more accurate description. They wanted all the information I could give, and sadly I realized my information was limited. Partly because of the great age difference between my grandmother and great-aunt compared to their other siblings. But mostly because in America, a land of immigrants and larger than all of Europe, we had lost touch with all but the most immediate family.

This is not our fault. In Italy you have grandmothers, daughters, grandkids and cousins all living together. The ones who stayed were all within a few miles of each other and this is for over a hundred years. Like the old days in America, they count on the closeness of family to survive in hard times.

Interior of San Pancrazio Church, Manoppello.

Antonia Romasca and her husband Giuseppe Di Pietrantonio; Antonia is Michael's first cousin twice removed.

Gina Romasco, half-sister to Michael's great-grandmother Anna Romasco, and her husband Antonio Cavallo.

Maria Romasco, age 88, half-sister to Michael's great grandmother. She cried when she met Michael--a few nights before meeting him she had spent a sleepless night won- dering what had become of her half-sister Anna Romasco's family, and now Anna's great grandson was standing in front of her!

Assunta Romasco with her daughter Giuseppina; Assunta is Michael's first cousin twice removed.

It has been many years since the family in America had to huddle together in Little Italy, all working together to help ensure their children wouldn't suffer as they had. The cost of that struggle was the spreading out of the generations. To my family in Manoppello and Lettomanoppello we are a success story, and though for them it is hard to fathom the distances that separate each generation, it is good to hear we are thriving.

I think of the times I spent in those little towns talking about people who lived 100 years ago. They remember, and I wonder at what cost did we succeed? Remember your family and keep them close to your hearts, for they are your link to your past.

Thanks for listening,
Michael

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