| Back In The USA | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The next morning we enjoyed a nice breakfast and took a few pictures inside and outside of the Tholos. Gabriele was kind to allow me to purchase 3 bottles of the wine that was made nearby. I could taste my grandfather's wine when I drank it. I'm not sure if it was the region or the grapes, but it doesn't matter - what matters is that I could taste the wine my grandfather made in his wine cellar in America. My memories were vivid - grandpa and his wine and how he let me quietly slip between his legs from under the kitchen table when I was a young child, my hand reaching for his glass and drinking his wine before my mother looked again in our direction, "Pa, why do you let her do that?" she would exclaim, sometimes with exasperation. "Because she likes it!" was his usual response. As adults often do, I moved away from my childhood home in Syracuse NY and when I returned to visit my family I also went to visit grandpa, and sometimes we just sat and drank his wine... |
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| Pam in Tholos breakfast room | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Antonio was punctual and Pam and I hugged Gabriele as we thanked him for his gracious hospitality. I told him about this website, and asked him if he would mind if I put his picture on the Internet, and wrote some about him and the Tholos. He didn't mind, in fact, he seemed very pleased. I hope if anyone reading this journal goes to Roccamorice, they look up Gabriele and tell him Donamaria sent them. And, both Horst and Antonio also seemed pleased when I mentioned to them that I would like to add their names and photos. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Well, we waived goodbye to the Tholos and headed down the mountain to Pescara. It was a quiet ride since Antonio hardly spoke English and both Pam and I were sad to be leaving. Along the way Antonio let me out of the car to take a few photos. It was a relatively clear and cool day, and beyond the towns I could see Pescara and the Adriatic coast. What an awesome sight... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Ravine in Roccamorice taken from Via Ventura | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The Majella mountain range | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| When we arrived at the train station Antonio surprised us! As we thanked him for his kindness, and hugged him for our wonderful time, he told us in English that he would be there again, and that he was happy. I really look forward to next year. Antonio was willing to drive us back to Roma and we regretted pre-purchasing our return tickets. Next time I'll know better... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I'm home now. The Christmas season is upon us and I am happy to say that I put my Christmas tree up on December 8th this year. Normally it goes up the weekend after Thanksgiving, but while in Roccamorice Horst told me that everyone put his or her tree up on the 8th since it's the holy holiday of the Immaculate Conception. I decided to follow that tradition here at home, and it helps me feel a little closer to the people there. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Horst and I email each other from time to time, and he told me that he played his soccer game "under the water" and that in England they call it "raining cats and dogs..." I'm now taking formal Italian language lessons in Washington, DC... I spoke to Uncle Bobby (who is grandpa's oldest son) on Christmas day after his son Carl showed him my journal. He told me he always loved me, and if it were even possible, he now loves me more. I knew what he meant. I love you too Uncle Bob... I'm returning to Italy in the springtime. I'll go back to visit the beautiful little village or Roccamorice, and travel through the Calabria area in search of my paternal grandfather's village Scigliano (and the hamlet of Lupia where he was born) which is in the province of Cosenza. |
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| In closing - Although I was not born in Italy, my roots are surely there. They are scattered about in the towns of all my grandparents - Roccamorice in the province of Pescara di Abruzzi, the province of Campobasso in Molise, Scigliano in the province of Cosenza in the region of Calabria, and Reggio Calabria. I'm proud of my Italian heritage, and as I write I am reminded of a conversation I had in my youth with a friend, and in my own feeble way I attempted to tell him how I felt about being Italian, "I'm a purebred!" With his worldly wisdom he replied, "No, you're a thoroughbred." I needed to see and experience the place where my grandfather began his life. I needed to exchange a dream for reality. My hope is that I've assisted in some significant way to bridge my family's gap over land, ocean and sea. My love for and understanding of my grandfather travels wider and deeper after having had the opportunity to feel his essence, and that of his ancestors, on the mountain in LaRocca. I know Salvatore was with me on the mountain - I felt his gentle nudge with every step I took, and that he was happy I cared enough. |
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| Grazie grandpa Sam - You are the reason I went... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Salvatore & Donamaria - 1973 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Unpublished work © 2000 Donamaria | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Train ~ Arriving ~ Tholos ~ Hermitage ~ Area Towns ~ My Family ~ Roma ~ Roma II Roma III ~ Venezia ~ Venezia II ~ Venezia III ~ Journey II ~ Tribute ~ About Me ~ Links ~ Email Me ~ Home ~ |
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