Papa

Papa was a small—not quite five feet tall—sweet, wiry, handsome, gentle, loving man, and sported a very full head of dark black thick wavy-kinky hair, and no wonder since two of the waves of invaders of the island of Sicily, where papa was born, were first the Carthaginians, of North East Africa, and later the Arabs—or moors from across the Medi-terranean. No wonder, then, that the patron saint of Agrigento, the city where papa was born is San Calogero, who is black.

Papa was the youngest of three sons. No sisters. Shortly after he was born, his father, Nico, where my name came from, died. His mother, Angela, the name my sister inherited, didn’t have enough money to feed the family so, since papa was the youngest of the boys, she brought him to Agrigento’ s orphanage. Papa grew up in the orphanage. He learned a trade: house-painting. He also learned carpentry, house building, plumbing, auto-mechanics, etc. In other words, he was handy with his hands, and had a practical way about him. He prided himself on being what is known as a fa tutto, one who does everything. When he was of age, which I guess was around sixteen or so, he was allowed to leave the orphanage and go back to his mother and brothers so that he could work and bring in some money. And papa did so. At the age of eighteen he served an obligatory two years in the army. I don’t know anything about his days in the military. Papa never talked about it, it was something he did, it was something all young men of Sicily did. Part of a rite of passage.

Papa met Carlo Lucchese, another kid from Agrigento, in the Army. Carlo was from a family of nine sons—some of them famous. One of them, Giulio, was a very important crime fighter high up in the police department. And another, Giovanni, was high up in the mafia. Later on, one of the grandchildren, Roberto, became the Prime Minister of Italy. There was no fame to Carlo—and he had no skills and a mean and nasty streak. He like to think of himself as a Cavaliero, a gentleman squire on a horse, and to make fun of him, everybody call him Cavaliero. But he was no squire and no gentleman—mostly he was loud, coarse, self-centered, vile, and semi-violent, which means he never killed anybody. And yet, he and papa were friends. Eventually Carlo went with Constanza Lo Cascio, mama’s older sister. Pietro and Maria, Constanza’s mother and father didn’t like Carlo, but they knew the Lucchese family was an important family and since one of Carlo’s brother’s was high up in the police they thought that their business, they had a dance hall, would be safe. So they let Carlo become fidanzata, engaged, with Constanza. And through Carlo way papa eventually met Ignazia, or Gnazì, who was to become my mother. Mama says that Carlo was jealous of his position in mama’s family and tried to stop papa and mama’s relationship. Papa would send her notes that she would hide in her stockings. Her sister, Constanza, would tell Carlo that mama was receiving notes and he told Don Pietro who would make mama give him the notes and then she would be punished. Mama then hated Carlo. Eventually, Carlo and Constanza married and they went to America. Why did they go to America? Because anybody who was somebody went to America. And since Carlo really knew that he was nobody he wanted to become somebody and in America you could work and you could become rich and you could then become somebody. You could own your own apartment. And someday you could even own your own house. And you could even become famous. Like some Italians became famous in America like Frank Sinatra. But the most famous Italians in America were the mafiusi like Al Capone and Lucky Luciano. And they were all Sicilians like Carlo, and his brother, Giovanni, who was a mafiuso. But his older brother was Giulio the terrible policeman who always captured his man. And Giulio once had to arrest his own mafiuso brother. But later he let him go.

Anyhow, getting back to papa. Papa wanted to marry mama but he had no money and mama’s father Don Pietro, said papa was too poor to marry mama how would he support her? Papa had no job. And there were no jobs in Agrigento for someone who was poor and an orphan. In fact there were no jobs. Sure some people worked in the bank, but you had to know someone related to the owner of the bank in order to get into the bank. First came the family then the friends of the family if any jobs were left. And usually there weren’t. and that’s how it was with whatever jobs there were when there were job anywhere. And anyhow the mafia controlled everything and papa didn’t know the mafia and didn’t want to know the mafia so he couldn’t really find a steady job. So sometimes he could paint a house or a few rooms. That was about all and it brought little money. But papa wanted mama and mama wanted papa so they decided to secretly pledge themselves to one another and were in this way fidanzati, engaged. Papa then decided he had to go to America to make money, enough money, so that he can come back and marry mama.

There were Barragatos living in Rochester, New York. Papa had an uncle there. Uncle Roberto Barragato. So papa wrote to his uncle telling him, I want to come to America but I need a sponsor and would you, dear Honored, Uncle Roberto, please be my sponsor so that I can come to America because I want to get married here in Agrigento but I don’t have enough money to get married and if I came to America where everybody could get a job I could work and earn enough money to go back to Sicily and get married and so would you, dear Honored, Uncle Roberto, please help me? And so papa and Gnazì waited for Uncle Roberto’s letter. And, believe it or not, two months after papa wrote his letter he received a letter from the United States. And it was from Rochester, New York. Papa and mama were very excited. He carefully opened the letter, after carefully studying the envelope and carefully removing the stamp, that of course was special since he had never seen such a stamp before in his life and he put the stamp in a clean piece of paper and carefully folded the paper and put the paper with the prize stamp in a drawer where he kept his underwear and handkerchiefs. Then he turned to the letter itself and carefully peeled back the flap of the envelope careful not to tear the envelope or the letter that was inside the envelope. And he carefully removed the folded piece of paper, unfolded it and to his amazement and joy it was written in his own dialect of Sicilian. Uncle Roberto said he would be honored to sponsor such an outstanding nipote, nephew, as papa was, and that papa should get ready and come to America and send him, Uncle Roberto, another letter telling him what ship he would take to come to America and when he would be leaving Palermo, because all the ships that come from Sicily leave from Palermo because Palermo is the capital and it is the biggest seaport of Sicily. Then, continued Uncle Roberto, he would meet papa on Ellis Island, which is an island just off the great port of New York City where all immigrants from all over the world go and have to be checked in before they could actually get to go to the interior of the United States itself. And there, on Ellis Island, the immigrants would be met by their sponsors like he was the sponsor of papa and would meet papa and then take him to the interior to the great city everybody comes to when they come to America, New York City. And from there they would take a train to go to his own city which is a good four hours north, Rochester. And then Uncle Roberto said papa could get settled.

Papa and mama were very excited. Mama wanted to come with papa but of course her father would never allow it and she knew it and so papa made himself ready. The first problem was the money for the ticket. The cheapest fare was steerage, where you slept down below in the bottom of the ship together with your luggage and you were not allowed to go up on deck to get some fresh air. But it was worth it. It cost thirty dollars. And then papa needed to have enough money to live on until he could get a job. So he thought another fifteen dollars should do it. So he had to find forty-five dollars before he could go to America. His mother, nonna Angelina gave him ten dollars. Papa then went around to all the businesses in Agrigento and offered himself as a painter to paint whatever needed to be painted—inside or outside, walls, rooms, entire buildings, whatever was needed he would do it. In this way over a period of several months papa earned the rest of the money he needed. He then went to the agencia of the ships that sailed to America, and they had one in Agrigento, and papa bought a ticket. He was so proud and happy when he returned home with that ticket in his hands. First thing he did was run to see mama and show her the magic ticket. She held it in her hand like she was holding a precious jewel. She held it up to her nose and smelled it. She brought it up to her breasts and rubbed it between them, and then reverently handed the ticket back to papa and said, “allora bona fortuna,” and now good luck.

Papa then wrote to Uncle Roberto in Rochester and told him the date he would leave Palermo for America. He told him the name of the ship and that it would probably arrive in America in about seven or eight days after the ship left Palermo. It would land in Nova Yoka, New York.

But instead of landing in Nova Yoka the ship dropped anchor in the harbor and all the passengers in steerage were told to pack up their belonging and go up on deck. Then they had to go down a gangplank to a waiting ferry boat that took them to Ellis Island. While sailing in steerage the passengers talked a lot about Ellis Island. Many of the passengers had horror stories about Ellis Island. If you had anything wrong with you, if you were lame, or had eye trouble, or if they thought you were an anarchist, or if you were pregnant, or if you didn’t answer the questions right they that asked you, or if you didn’t have somebody there to sponsor for you and take responsibility for you, they would send you back. But papa knew he was all right because Uncle Roberto would be there waiting for him. Papa had a place to go. To Rochester. And he would be OK.

So papa went through the process of Ellis Island, looking around all the time at everybody to see if he could find Uncle Roberto. The trouble was that he didn’t know what Uncle Roberto looked like. And, of course, Uncle Roberto didn’t know what papa looked like. But he saw that there were many people who met the new immigrants. And they had lists of names in their hands. And they kept shouting out names to the immigrants who passed them and then when someone responded to a name he or she went wild with jubilation and the caller and the new immigrant would exuberantly embrace and kiss and everything would be OK. Papa waited for his turn to come.

There was a group of people called runners, who were from the various races, Jewish, Hassidim, Italian, Sicilian, Irish, German, and some or all of the middle European races. These runners all spoke the language of the immigrants. They looked for immigrants who were stranded, had no one to meet them, and for a price, that usually was paid later, they offered to get the immigrants out of Ellis Island, on to the mainland of the States, find them a place to stay, and a job. In return they exacted a fee from the salaries the new immigrants earned. Of course many of the immigrants were taken advantage of, and the runners morphed into padrones or “owners” or even “master’s” of the immigrants and it took many years to pay off the money they had to pay their padrones in order to become free of them.

The mafia had their runners too. One of them, Franco, was the mafioso runner from Little Italy in downtown New York City. He had a list of the immigrants and when he came to papa’s name, Emanuele Barragato, he knew by the name that this one came from Agrigento, and that he was amenable to the mafia, because Agrigento, in those days was controlled by the mafia. What specially interested the runner in papa was the fact that papa was very short. Shorter than the usual short Italian male. Probably even shorter than four feet. He also saw that papa was also well built, not stocky, but wiry and tight. That he had energy, strength, and sharp eyes. The runner saw a potential jockey in papa who would ride the mafia’s horses. He also saw that papa was the type of Sicilian who practices omertà, which means he would never reveal any secrets or confidences he was privy to. So the runner approached papa.

Hi, my name is Franco, I see your name is Emmanuele Barragato.

Yes, said papa, but they call me Nenè.

Chi si dice, Nenè, wattya say, said the mafioso runner.

What I say is that there’s nobody here to meet me.

Who were you expecting?

My uncle from Rochester.

O. Rochester. Well Rochester is a long way up north. Sometimes it’s hard to get down here. So watta you do now?

I don’t know. My future brother-in-law lives in a place called Brukulinu, Brooklyn, but I don’t know how to get to him. He doesn’t know I’m here and besides I don’t want to stay with him.

Do you wanna get out of this place and come on with me to New York?

Sure I do. What’ll it cost me?

We’ll talk about that later, first thing is to get you outta here.

OK said, papa, let’s go.

So Franco, who of course, was well known to the officials on the island, as well as to all the custom officials, very quickly and neatly. got papa off the island.

A car and driver was waiting for them. They got in and in a matter of about twenty minutes arrived at their destination, a store-front with curtains on the large store windows on a street called Mott Street. There was a sign hanging on a post outside the store. It read, Club Fratelli. Brothers Club.

The car parked in front of the club. They got out and entered the club.

What is this place, asked papa?

It’s a social club for friends. There’s a couple of single apartments in back. I have one, and you can have the other one.

Great, said, papa. Now what do I have to do to pay you? Papa was beginning to worry, because he could smell mafia.

Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about it later. In the meantime, just keep yourself busy. Sweep the floor, bring coffee and beer and whiskey to the people who come to play cards and since you're from ‘Girgenti, I know you know how to keep your mouth shut.

Sure, said papa.

So papa was in the United States, on Mott Street, in a social club, owned and operated by the mafia. Now what? He wondered.

Franco was very smart. After a few days he saw that this skinny ked from ‘Girgenti wasn’t mafia stuff. He saw that Nenè was a nice kid and wasn’t looking for trouble. So he spoke to papa and said, Nenè, you're a good kid, but you're not good to do what we do. So, stick around and make yourself useful like you have been. OK? Just keep your mouth shut and your eyes closed and everything will go all right.

Then Franco sat papa down with a map on the table. The map was of the streets of downtown New York City. Franco drew a line around one of the streets that looked like a long sausage on the map. And he put an X near the middle of the sausage line. OK, Nenè, this is downtown New York where were are. This sausage line is around Mott Street. The X I put down on Mott Street is at a cross-street called Broome Street. And that’s where we are. So if ever you get lost going around the city find Broome Street at Mott Street and you'll find the club.

Now you can see that we are in the heart of what they call here Little Italy and just a few blocks east you have Chinatown. You can go anywhere you want in Little Italy where everybody speaks Italian, and you can even go to Chinatown because we got a lot of Chinese guys working for us, that’s how close we are. So everywhere you go you'll be safe.

And so papa explored the streets of Little Italy and Chinatown whenever he didn’t have to do anything for the members who came to the club. Usually he swept the floors, delivered messages, probably numbers, brought coffee to the members who came into the club, and kept himself busy. The other members of the club treated papa as a sort of mascot and all of them were kind to him and often gave him big tips for bringing them coffee or pizza or sandwiches when they wanted them while they were playing trisetti, three sevens, a Sicilian card game. They also spoke to papa about becoming a jockey. Papa said, No way, or in Sicilian, Ma chi fa scherzi? Are you kidding? He told them he came from the city, namely Agrigento, which is one of the biggest and most important cities of all Sicily. There was the Greek Temple of the Acropolis on the shoreline high up on a cliff. And people came from all over Europe to see it, that’s how important Agrigento is. He proudly told them that he was not a cafùne, a peasant, from the country, and had never even seen a horse much less ride one. They laughed with papa and dropped the jockey thing. They all liked papa and didn’t involve papa in any of their business. Of course from time to time out of necessity they would ask him to run a few numbers for them down the street. They knew he was a good kid and treated him like one.

One day Franco asked papa if he wanted to see his relatives in Rochester. Papa said, Yes. So Franco got papa a train ticket to Rochester and told him how to get there. Papa wrote to his uncle and told him he was coming and would he please meet him at the station. And so papa went to Rochester to meet his relatives. When he got to the Rochester station there waiting for him were zio Rosario, zia Domenica, and his cucina, cousin, Cristina. They took him home with them, gave him a room for himself, and after he was settled in they all sat down to eat the big meal zia Domenica had prepared. Of course, pasta ca sassa, pasta and tomato sauce, with meatballs, followed by cutlets, followed by calimari in tomato sauce, followed by coffee, and cannoli, and sfogliatelli, pastry. While they were eating they went over everything: how zio wasn’t able to come to Ellis Island because he was sick and how were papa’s mother and other brothers? Zio wasn’t a first degree uncle but the cousin of one of papa’s mother’s brothers. But still he was family and in family an uncle is an uncle. So Cristina wasn’t really a cousin but she was family and so she was a cousin to him. It turned out that she was around twenty years old, so just a little bit younger than papa. And she was a little plain looking, but she had big tits, and she took a liking to papa right away. And zio and zia also took a liking to papa and you could have seen their minds working if you were there, how they worked and how they looked at papa and thought now here was a good match for Christina, especially since not only was he family because his name was the same as theirs, Barragato, but also he wasn’t first degree family so it would be all right for Nenè and Cristina to get married so it was settled in their minds but it was better not to be in a hurry but also not to wait too long either. So after they had their coffee and pastry zio took papa outside for a little camminata, a walk, and slowly he got around to the subject of papa and Christina and he asked papa what he thought about Cristina. Papa said, certo, sure she was a nice girl. And zio got around to saying, It would be wonderful if you and Cristina would get along because then you could live in Rochester and get a job and then someday you and Cristina could maybe even get married if everything turned out to be OK and then we could all be one big happy family and wouldnt that then be a wonderful thing for everybody?

Papa said, I am sorry, that can't be because you see I’m already fidanzato, engaged, to a girl in Sicily. And besides Cristina is my cousin so even if it were possible for me to do it I couldn’t because she is my cousin.

Ahh, that’s not a problem, said zio, because Cristina’s not even a first or second degree cousin, maybe even further than that.

Yes, said papa, but you see there still is the problem as I have already said that I am already compromised because I am fidanzato, and of course I could not break my word.

Yes, said zio, but you know how things are—things change and you're here in America and Sicily is a long way away and Cristina is here and Cristina is a nice beautiful girl who would make you a good wife and everything else.

Papa saw that he was in trouble so he said again, I’m sorry zio it cannot be because once you're fidanzato it would be a great vergogna, a great dishonor, to break my promise.

So zio just said, Well we’ll see what happens, you never know.

Later after they got home they sat down to listen to the radio and zio spoke to Cristina and she left the room. Later when it got dark and late zio said they better go to bed and told papa good night and tomorrow we’ll see what it brings. So papa said good night and went to his room.

Papa didn’t like anything about his relatives and his stay here. He knew he had to get away quick. He didn’t like zio Rosario and zia Domenica. He didn’t like cousin Cristina. And he especially didn’t like getting married to her. He liked mama. He told her that when he had saved up enough money he would return to Sicily and they would get married and that’s what was going to happen. None of this zio and zia and Cristina crap. But he had to get away. So he entered his room with all these thoughts. He opened the door and shut it behind him. As soon as the door shut he heard the door lock go click. He tried to open the door. It was locked. Now what’s going on, he thought. He turned on the light and there in the room was Cristina, sitting in a chair. And papa knew what was going on. He was trapped. They would keep him locked up in this room with Cristina. And next morning he would be compromised and would have to marry her because he spent the night with her. Papa told Cristina he knew what was happening and that there was nothing he could do about it. But he said he would still respect her and that she should sleep in the bed and he would sleep in the chair. Cristina was very happy that it was so easy and she was very very happy that papa would respect her. He really was a good man and she told him and she thanked him for respecting her. Papa said sure, that that’s the way he was. He was taught to respect. And so she went to bed and papa sat up in the chair.

And so the night continued. Later when papa was sure Cristina was asleep he slowly went to the window and opened it. He looked down. The room was on the second floor. He carefully and silently climbed down the side of the house, got to the ground and ran for his life. He managed to get to the station and took the next train to New York City. And that was the end of papa and his relatives in Rochester.

Well, papa got back to Mott Street and to the club-house. And he continued his usual chores of sweeping, serving coffee, bringing sandwiches and pizza to the club members.

One day, Franco sat papa at a table before him. Franco said to papa, Nenè, you're a good kid, but something’s come up and you gotta go and you gotta go today. But don’t worry I’ve set you up. He handed papa a slip of paper with a name and address on it. Mr. Katz. 163 Lorimer Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York. Mr. Katz, said Franco, is a friend of mine. He has an apartment for you at this address. Go see him and he’ll take care of you. And you don’t have to worry about the rent for a while either. Franco then told papa how to get to Williamsburg by subway and which station to get off of and how to get to Lorimer Street from there. It was easy, he said.

After you get settled in your apartment, Franco said, then I want you to go to this address, and Franco handed papa another slip of papa with a name and address. Mr Aiello, Painter’s Union Local 44, 186 Marcy Avenue, Brooklyn, New York. Go see Mr Aiello. He’s also a friend of mine and he knows you’ll be coming. I told him you're a great painter and that he can trust you to do a good job for him. Franco then explained that in America the most important thing was to be in the union. Then you’ll always have work, he said. Franco then said that Mr Katz could tell him how to get to Marcy Avenue. It’s easy to get there from Lorimer Street, he said. Then Franco took out ten ten dollar bills and put them on the table in front of papa. Here, he said, take these and put them in your pocket. This should carry you until you start work.

But, said papa, why are you doing this to me? Why are you sending me away? What have I don’t wrong? Haven’t I don’t good? I thought everybody liked me and that they liked my work? Is it because I wouldn’t be a jockey? What is it?

Naw, said Franco, it’s none of that. It’s just that something’s come up and you just can't be here no more. You understand how things go. And so you have to leave and you have to leave now. Listen Nenè, haven’t I always been good to you? Haven’t I always told it to you straight? So you’ve gotta trust me on this and you’ve gotta go. So go, pack up your things and go see Mr Katz and Mr Aiello.

Ok said papa. He packed the clothes and other things he had collected and everything that was given to him by Franco, his benefactor, and the other men who came to the club, and he left the club and Mott Street. He took the elevated train like Franco told me to and got to Williamsburg. When he got to 163 Lorimer Street, he knocked on the door and Mr Katz opened the door. Papa told him who he was, and Mr Katz welcomed papa like he was a long close friend. He told papa that he had a good apartment for him and that he needn’t worry about the rent because it was paid for, for six months.

That evening papa went to a diner to eat. While there the radio on the counter tells of a big shoot-out in Greenwich Village. It was in English so papa couldn’t understand what was said. He only heard a few words that he was able to make out like shoot and killed and mafia.

Next morning papa bought a copy of the Progresso, the New York City Italian newspaper. He went to a coffee shop, ordered a cup of coffee, and began to read his newspaper. It was all there on the front page. The big shoot-out in Greenwich Village, on Mott Street, at the Club Fratelli, that the Progresso said was a well-known mafia hangout. The shootout was between rival factions of the mob. It was about territory and money and prostitution and gambling and horse racing and death. It seems one of the mobsters of the Village mob crossed the territorial line and went above 34^th Street, where the Mid-City mob did their mafia work, and started a numbers game up there. One thing led to another and there were minor shootings of one another, which means no one was ever killed, just warning nicks. Then came the Mid-City mob raid on Club Fratelli. The big shoot-out. And one of the victims was papa’s Franco.

Papa then understood. Franco knew what was coming and he wanted to save papa. And he did. Papa drank his coffee, folded his newspaper, stuck it under his arm, rose from the chair, went outside the coffee shop, walked to his apartment, entered, lit a cigarette, and sat on the side of the bed, and was quiet.

From that day papa had no more contact with any mafiuso. It was as if a great door had been slammed shut.

Next morning papa went to the union. He found Mr Aiello. Mr Aiello was also Siciliano, so talking together was easy. Mr Aiello told papa he was waiting for him that a friend of both of them had highly recommended papa. Now all he had to do was join the union and the union will get you a job. Once you're in the union you'll be OK. What do I have to do to join the union, papa asked? You gotta pay dues—five dollars a month. OK said papa, I’ve got five dollars. Good old Franco, thought papa. So Mr Aiello told papa now that he was in the union he could give papa a union badge, which soon will have his picture on it, and a union book so that every month you pull out one of the pages with the month of the year written on the top page of the book and bring it here with your five dollars. Then you gotta start taking naturalization classes and begin studying to become a United States citizen. Then after you become a citizen everything will be easy for you. Why even if you have a girlfriend back in Sicily, you can go back there marry her, and bring her back here free because now she’s your wife. So you see how easy it is. And it only takes five years to become a citizen.

Next day papa went to the union office to get his first job. He began by painting houses. He was quick, thorough, and very careful and his bosses liked him. After a few weeks they began to give papa the most delicate work like door frames and wall papering. Papa soon became an expert, almost even an artist, at hanging paper. He also was totally unafraid to mount a scaffold and paint the outside of a five storey building up there way up on the fifth floor of the building. So papa was well liked by everybody, even by his co-workers, who knew that they could always count on him to do the hard jobs and the most delicate work. With papa on the team the other men felt that they could do any job no matter how hard or complicated or difficult.

Then came the big job. One day after a job was finished, he went to the union office for the next one, and was told to go to La Guardia Field and there to go to the foreman. And papa went. He showed the foreman, who was also Sicilian, his union badge, now with his picture on it, and the foreman put papa to work. And papa began painting the newly constructed La Guardia Field inside and out.

And papa began going to naturalization classes. The other people in the class were Siciliani and Yudissha people mostly. And they all got along. Although the Siciliani stuck together and the Yudissha stuck together. But there never was no trouble. They all began learning to speak English together. And they all learned to know all about America and about voting and about the President and about the Congress and about the Senate and about the Bill of Rights and about the Constitution and about the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag.

Papa wrote to mama and told her everything was OK. Already he had his own one bedroom apartment on Lorimer Street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He told her he was only a few blocks away from Carlo and Constanza who had an apartment on Marcy Avenue and went there to eat every Sunday. He told mama that already he was saving money for the boat trip back to Italy. And he was saving money for their marriage. And he was saving money for their trip back together to America. Soon, in five years, it will all come true. Papa was happy. And mama was happy to receive papa’s letters. And with every letter papa wrapped the letter around a dollar bill and put it in the envelope and in the letter papa told mama to buy something nice for herself. And papa wrote to mama every week for the five years of their separation, so mama had many dollar bills.

Papa worked most of the time at La Guardia Field. Then he got other jobs through the union. And he never missed a monthly union dues payment. And then came the day when he became an American citizen. And then they told him at the union that now that he was a citizen he should vote and they told him that he had to do two things. Look at the list of people who were running for office and vote for the ones who were either Democrats, or who had Italian names. But most important was to vote for the Democrats because they were the ones who made the unions and without them the bosses would take at least half of the pay away from them so they had to vote Democrats solid with all the unions in America. And papa did just that. First Democrats, then Italians. But there never was an Italian on the list of those who were running for politics no matter how hard papa looked at the list. Maybe someday, he thought.

So papa returned to Italy his pockets full of money and his heart full of hope for a grand future.

October 14, 2009