An Italian Family Story of Immigration to The Burg, Isodoro Peroni

An Italian Family Story of Immigration to The Burg, Isodoro Peroni


I want to go to America
Scritto da Isidoro Peroni

Little more than a century ago, a broad exodus started from
our mountains. A first migratory wave was bound for Rome
the capital of the new kingdom of Italy. I cannot help recalling
my paternal grandfather, called with my same christian name, when
very young he was among the first inhabitant of Ruscio to open the
tradition of the wood and the cool sale in Rome. That soon became
the principal job of the "Rusciani": but this one is another
story of which it has already been mentioned on these columns
and about it one could write a novel, if he felt up to do!
Another wave of people, perhaps more courageous, perhaps more
desperate, made for the mythical America. The favourite destination
of women and men coming from our village was Trenton New Jersey
because there the franciscan father Peter Jachetti, who was born in
Monteleone, had opened a way already since 1869. There he had
built the convent of Saint Francis and in the 1890 inagurated
in Chestnut Avenue the Church of the Immaculate Conception
attended by Italians as well as other immigrants coming from
European countries. In Trenton the Roeblings, industrialists
of German origin and costructors of suspended bridges like
the famous Brooklyn bridge, employed workers in his steel-wire
rope factory. One can understand the importance of Roebling for
our peasants from the following anecdote told me by my friends
of Trenton. Immigrant people of ours, who knew very little
about american politics and language, at the question who was
the US president infallibly answered ''Loobrinze'' pronouncing
the difficult name Roebling in the Italian dialectal manner:
so we have found out the origin of a nick name used in our parts!
There was, in the same area of Trenton a cigar manifacture
where women could be hired getting an economic independence
and helping the family budget. The landscape and the farms
around Trenton, in the winter covered by snow and with the cold
temperature, as I have seen there in my recent visit, reminded to
the immigrants the environment of our valley. Besides, in that
town there were so many inhabitants, coming from our places,
giving to the newcomers hospitality and help for the first
times. So the colony became more and more crowded. Afterwards
in 1904 Italians accomplished their own Church, St. Joachims,
where still today one can hear Mass in Italian language.
Soon our immigrants organized themselves in friendly Societies
with social clubs for the meetings, Societies still now in
activity and nearly similar to the Italian Pro Loco associations.
I thank my friends Paul and Peter Innocenzi who have been my
guide during my stays in Trenton.
As you can see in the "Italian Commercial Guide" of 1907, in
Monteleone, at that time, there were as many as three emigration
agents who used to get the papers ready for the passport and to
supply the ship tickets. I have skimmed through the letter-book
of Angelo Sereni (preserved by his grand-son Mr. Tito Sereni)
with carbon copies of the mail from 1903 to 1913 to the society
"La Veloce" of Genoa represented in Cascia by him. I found out
the cost of the ship ticket, of course in the cheaper class,
was 210 Italian lire: 30 in advance for booking and the rest at
the ship leaving from Naples. The amount at the beginnig of the
century was a lot of money equivalent to about 3500 dollars.
I have read in that book about so many meaningful questions
showing anxieties and hopes of the emigrants who were about to
leave their country. People with some bodily defect , in spite of
that, wished to go to Trenton and they were afraid to be pulled back
before leaving in Naples or when they landed in New York. Wives or
sons trying to join their family. People under age who were
obliged to be accompained by an adult. People carrying with them
less than 250 lire, that was the minimum amount of money one was
compelled to have in his pocket when landing, they invoked, as
guarantors, some relatives waiting for them at the port...
and so on. As an example I quote the extract from a letter that
the agent Angelo Sereni was sending to the emigration office
of "La Veloce in Genoa asking explanations about a case I find
very moving. "... Another woman 35 years old, whose eyes are
very inflamed for the long weeping, wish all the same to go to
Trenton N.J. together with her daughter 10 years old, to join
her husband resident there since many years. The question is if
such a person, travelling in second class, is subjected to medical
control in the port of Naples or in that one of New York and if
there is the probability to be rejected because of such illness...".
Whoever has landed in New York Airport and at the passport control
for the admission has had a moment of anxiety while he passed the
yellow line on the floor, one at the time, and when he was asked
about the reason and the length of his stay in the U.S., below the
searching look of a brusque official, that person can immagine
the torment of these women and men who had invested nearly
all their money and hope in that long and dangerous journey. They
did not know the language and what expected them and they were
scared not to be accepted. However many of them succeded and
adjusted themselves to the new surroundings, some others gave
up and went back.And here my thoughts is for my grandmother
Eugenia Marchetti: when young bride she shipped in the daring
journey to Trenton where my mother Orsola was born. She was
baptized in the Immaculate Conception's Church, as the register
of 1894 shows. Mrs Adelaide Lotti the midwife, sister of Father
Jachetti was the godmother and Mr Marcello Agabiti (a well known
name in Ruscio) was the godfather. I cannot help to immagine how
many pains and troubles my grandmother experienced three
years later, when she was expecting another baby, borded again
the English ship Emis to come back to Monteleone and afterwards
to Rome. It sounds like a telenovela but it is a true human
drama: in the middle of the ocean anticipated by the wave
motion, my uncle Pietro Tazza was born and he lived in Rome
until the age of 97 years. How many stories, all different
and made of hopes and illusions variously crowned!
Today the scenary is different. Italians go often to the States
as tourists or guests. Italo-americans have gained a position
and a reputation, they come back to Italy to visit their relatives
and they are pleased seeing the development that has happened
in their country of origin, similar to that one in their
new country. Sons have forgotten the language but not the
love of their land of origin. New immigrants from Central
America have taken their dwellings in Trenton where once
Italians used to live. Now most of them have moved to the
suburbs. Also Italy is becoming land of immigration from
East Europe and Africa, giving rise to new and different
problems. We wish these new guests, following the example
of our emigrants, to become good citizens integrated in
the new country.

Isidoro Peroni