I write because the pen moves. -- Lora Clarke
Many years ago, a man and his wife lived in the small hill village of Laurenzana, tucked quietly away in southern Italy. Their names were Antonio and Graziado Marone. Like most Italians, Antonio and Graziado had been living on the acreage they called home all their life, acreage that had belonged to his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather and so on. Their wealthy social status and comfortable life had come from the same source. Antonio and his wife were the largest property owners in Laurenzana, and they grew large crops of wheat and owned many sheep. Antonio leased portions of his land, including portions of his wheat fields on occasions, and the other villagers benefited from the local supply of wheat and Parmesan cheese.
On February 15, 1867, Antonio and Graziado's first son was born. They named him Raffaele and while, they also had a daughter whom they called Maria Carmella, Raffaele would be the one to carry on the Marone name and who would receive Antonio's possessions later on. For this Antonio and Graziado were pleased and took great pride in calling Raffaele their son.
Twelve years later, in a small room above the noisy streets of New York City, lived a man and his wife and their small son, Michele. It was here, on March 2, 1879, when a baby girl was added to the small family. Her parents, Donato and Maria Giovanna Pavese, named her Rosa. They had left their home in Laurenzana, Italy, and relocated to America as immigrants. Like most immigrants, the Paveses had left behind a better life. They had traded a wealthy social status for tenement life on the streets of New York. The familiarity of family and friends was traded for the strangers who bustled through the streets speaking weird languages. And while the small apartment they called home was all but spacious and lovely, the Paveses had plans to settle down and build a new future.
Maria Carmella and Raffaele strolled through Laurenzana atop a mule, wearing finery of soft silk and starched white. They lived a relaxed life, one where hired hands and servants tended the daily tasks of the farm and house around them. Growing up in such an environment, Raffaele and Maria Carmella were fashioned into elegant and stylish individuals. The education they received made them all the more socially advanced. But underneath all the finery and fashion, Raffaele longed to become a real man. He quickly tired of watching the hired hands tend his family's property, and he dreaded wasting day after day in the cool shade. Raffaele knew, however, that if he was to get his pure white shirt wrinkled or dirty, or make even the tiniest tear in the soft velvet of his knickers, his mother would go into a rage.
After much inward discontentment, Raffaele finally shared his troubles. To his surprise, neither his parents nor his sister scolded him. Though they did remind him that to leave his wealth and finery behind meant that they would be difficult to find again, should he change his mind in the future. But Raffaele was decided.
When Rosa was a toddling year and a half old, she joined her mother one day on a short trip of errands. Out in the streets, Maria Giovanna met an acquaintance on Second Avenue and the two women stopped to talk. Rosa stood close by, with her mother's apron string tightly in her hand. When Maria Giovanna finally turned to go, she discovered that Rosa was no longer with her. Maria Giovanna cried out and began searching through the crowd, turning around and weaving in and out among the people. Soon, Maria Giovanna's acquaintance caught on and the two women ran through the streets. Hours passed and little Rosa was still no where to be found. The two women finally parted and went their separate ways toward home. When Donato returned from work, Maria Giovanna greeted him with sobs. Donato listened as his wife poured out the entire story. They took Michele to a friend's house and went directly to the police, later notifying the newspaper companies and all of their friends.
Weeks passed, and the Paveses continued to look for Rosa. One day they got wind of a baby being held somewhere in "The Bronx." Donato and his wife hurried there, hoping the baby was Rosa. When they found the apartment, they could hear a baby crying. The police was notified, and the Paveses waited out in the street until the deputies arrived. Emotions were a mix of fear, nervousness, and excitement. The police finally arrived and entered the house. After a few minutes, the crying stopped and a policeman came outside carry a baby in his arms.
It was Rosa. Donato and Maria Giovanna ran to grab her. The policeman said that he and his men had found the baby under a bed among lots of toys. Donato thanked the officer, but as the Paveses turned to go, a man opened a window from the house Rosa had been taken from. "My wife and I don't have any children," he yelled, "so we'd like to adopt. Won't you take money for the child? We'll give you any amount, just name it." The Paveses turned away without a second thought. Shortly after, Donato decided to send Maria Giovanna and their two children back to Laurenzana. There they would be safer, and free from further threats of kidnapping. Donato bought tickets for them as soon as he could, then saw them off at the dock. As they slowly drifted away, he swore than Rosa would never again set foot on American soil.
In 1884 Raffaele Marone said goodbye to his family and village. He left the surroundings of Laurenzana and headed to America by boat. Once there, he got a job, working as a laborer in a cotton mill. His job provided the necessary funds to keep himself clothed, fed and housed. He shared a rent in Framingham, New York. Still in New York a year later, Raffaele decided to become an American citizen. Though he worked hard, life was not easy. Raffaele encountered prejudicial individuals who disliked foreigners. But Raffaele was stubborn, and determined not to let a few bullies ruin his dreams. Early one morning before work, Raffaele reached toward the fireplace accessories with a mean smile. He chose the poker, and thrust it with determination into the hottest coal until the iron was red hot. Pounding the end into a nasty point, Raffaele hammered until his strong arm ached and his eyes shone with satisfaction. The poker, now transformed into a weapon of defense, was cooled and ready to be hidden away. Raffaele carefully slid the poker up his pant leg and headed to work.
Arriving at the mill, Raffaele nonchalantly busied himself with his duties at the filing bench. Perhaps it was nonchalant manner that led him to mindlessly bend his leg, driving his pant cuff upwards and revealing his hidden weapon of defense. A co-worker noticed, and let out a yell. "He's got a poker up his pants!" Though new of Raffaeles weapon soon reached every ear in the factory, no one seemed to bother him. Until he left for home. Waiting for him outside the door, the other mill workers had formed a gang against Raffaele. Unbeknown to any of them, however, the foreman of the mill had heard of the contention, and he walked out the door just as the men preparing to begin their fight.
At a time when no one else had anything to say, Raffaele was a bold as ever. "Give me your best man, and I'll fight him." A ring began to form among the men, and with fists as hard as his head, Raffaele quickly proved that he was a man through and through. In addition to making a name for himself, Raffaele developed a liking for boxing and later tried his fists at a few amateur events. He also joined a political group where he became a member of the Democratic Party and often hung out at the Party clubhouse on Second Avenue. Now a full-fledged Italian American, Raffaele was even given a nickname, "Rockefeller."
When Maria Giovanna returned with Michele and Rosa, the villagers of Laurenzana were very understanding. The topic of Rosa's kidnapping, however, quickly disappeared from the villagers' lips as she and Michele grew. Contrasted against the streets and tenements of New York, their playground was now rolling hills, their playmates were family and new friends. They were soon enrolled in school, where they began their studies for an education suitable for their class. It was several years later before Donato finally returned to his family in Laurenzana. In still another location, the Paveses began yet another new life, one that required little physical labor and virtually no work at all. Their clothes were prim and proper and the food hearty and rich.
As time passed for Raffaele, he began to find the time and finances to make visits back home. His family and friends were glad to see him, and he enjoyed a break from working in the mill. Raffaele's mother approved of the visits, confident that the relaxation was healthy for him. But soon enough, Raffaele would hear the voice from deep inside calling him back to America. So, he would board the next boat and wave goodbye until the next visit. One such visit took place in 1895. While he had now been traveling between countries for eleven years, this particular visit back to Italy was more than a "routine" journey. There was something weighing heavily on Raffaele's mind, and it was something that would change his life and his future for ever. And this is the story . . .
An artist is not paid for his labor but for his vision. -- James McNeill