With the one time exception of Leonard Nannariello, the six Nannariello children of Luigi and Francesca Nannariello (Grazia, Mariantonia, Lorenzo, Canio, Rosa, Leonard) never returned to Calitri. Leonard returned for a visit for a month or so in1931. See Leonard Nannariello Visit to Calitri 1931. After his visit, unfortunately his father Luigi died the same year. His mother, Francesca, died in 1935.
Over the years a limited number of the children of these six Nannariello’s visited Calitri. The first being Joseph DeCosmo son of Rose and Joe DeCosmo; Richard Nannariello, son of Canio Nannariello; Richard and Robert Nannariello, sons of Richard Nannariello, each made separate trips.
For each of them, entering the town of Calitri and revealing their Nannariello name was all they needed to have Family and Friends greet them and be welcomed. They were all children of Calitrani and they had returned “home.”
We are not suggesting or do we know, if other Nannariello’s and their relatives have possibly made trips to Calitri. We know of many other families in which the Calitrani that immigrated and their children have returned and we admire their good fortune.
Possibly, this Ancestry will motivate others to make their trips to Calitri and to be welcomed as Calitrani. Enjoy these first person recollections of visits to Calitri.
Visit to Calitri 1953 Joe DeCosmo
By Joseph DeCosmo
The circumstances of the year I was born, which was 1932, and the need for the United States to have a military draft in the 1950’s, created an opportunity for me to go to Calitri Italy, the birthplace of my mother and father.
I am Joe DeCosmo, the sixth child of the seven children of Joseph DeCosmo and Rose Nannariello DeCosmo. The six children that were born in the United States, were all born in Westchester County New York and the family eventually settled in New Rochelle, New York. My mother and father were born in Calitri Italy and married in Calitri. They had a daughter named Michella who was born in Calitri and died at a very early age. Joe was Giuseppe and Rose was Rosa by their Italian birth names. Their Americanized names were a common occurrence. They immigrated together to the United States in 1924. They departed from Naples on the SS Columbo and arrived in New York City on March 2, 1924.
My mother was one of ten Nannariello siblings born to Luigi and Francesca Nannariello. Six of the children immigrated to the United States over a period of more than ten years. Rose was the last of the six Nannariello siblings to immigrate. Except for one occurrence, none of the six Nannariello’s returned to the Italy. My uncle Leonard Nannariello was the only one to return to Calitri for a brief visit in 1931. I was not aware at the time, but of the approximately twenty children from these six Nannariello siblings and all born in the United States, I became the first of their children to return to Italy and specifically Calitri.
Sparked by the Korean War in the early 1950’s and the need to send troops to Europe, there was a continuous on going military draft in the United States after World War II. Young men were drafted at the ripe young age of eighteen and into the early twenties. I was twenty years old and ended up being drafted in April 1952. The traditional four months of basic training happened in Fort Dix, New Jersey. I was deployed to Europe along with several thousand soldiers crowded on a Second World War troop. We arrived in Bremerhaven Germany after an eight day journey across the Atlantic Ocean. Eventually, our destination was Kaiserslautern, Germany. In 1954 and now in 2022, Kaiserslautern is the largest NATO garrison in Europe. According to an Internet search today, it is a city of over 100.000 people and in addition there are about 50,000 military personnel from various countries. Then and as is now, the military is the biggest business in town. The city is in the south western part of Germany and about 35 miles from the border with France.
Somewhere during this life changing and busy 1953, I had an awareness that my government sponsored trip to Europe was an opportunity to visit Calitri, the birthplace of my mother and father. My five brothers and sisters and I were raised in a family that had many Italian traditions. Rose and Joe spoke Italian in accented English and often spoke Italian to each other and their children. They spoke of Calitri and occasionally shared stories of their life in Italy. There were many emigrants from Calitri, called Calitrani, in New Rochelle. There was a Calitrani Club downtown on Webster Avenue that organized many traditional and religious events during the course of the year. The Club was both a refuge and an opportunity to maintain the social and religious traditions of Calitri.
I made plans to visit Calitri after several months in Germany and adapting to my military assignment. This was going to be a big trip for a small town boy. It was necessary to take the train from Germany and Kaiserslautern and travel through parts of France and Switzerland, to Milan, down the western side of Italy and through Rome and finally to Naples. The trip in 1954 was about 24 hours and was about 700 direct miles. The train trip today is about 16 hours. I did not have a sleeping berth and sat and enjoyed the sights of Switzerland and Italy flying by my window. A train connection in Naples took me to Calitri, which is about one hundred miles due east to central Italy which is the region of Campania and the Province of Avellino.
I was there in Calitri! I could not have imagined such an opportunity a few short months before being drafted in the Army. The Calitri railroad station is at the bottom of the mountain and Calitri is clustered along the top of the mountain. From the train station there is no view of the town. This was not a world shaking event and of little concern to anyone at the time, but I was the first child of this particular Nannariello family to have returned to Calitri. My mother and father had parted from Calitri within several months of being exactly thirty years before. My Father died much too young in 1949 and I would not be able to share my experience with him upon my return to the United States. However, there would be much to share with my Mother.
My mother had contacted a woman in Calitri, who I believe was her Godmother or a friend of her Godmother. Memory fails after all these years. Also, my Mother advised me that about a man from Calitri who had immigrated to the United States and then returned to Calitri. His name was Mr. Rianone (Note: Not certain about the spelling of his name). He was a janitor at St. Joseph Catholic School in New Rochelle. My siblings and I attended St. Josephs and I knew Mr. Rianone in a passive way when attending elementary school. He was the only janitor and I was one of many students. After changing schools, I had not seen Mr. R again. I can only speculate that he had retired from his job and returned to Calitri. Even in those days, a retired American living in Italy on a Social Security check, could live rather well. Now Mr. R would become a host and guide for my visit to Calitri.
The few days I was able to spend in Calitri were managed by Mr. R and his bilingual ability resolved all of the issues of my limited Italian. Calitri was not like New Rochelle and it was not like my experience in Germany. In its evolution for five centuries and more, Calitri spread and crawled up and down and around the mountain. It was a kaleidoscope of stone walls and stucco homes and cobble stoned streets and piazzas and many little shops and restaurants.
We visited the local cemetery and found the tombstones of family members including my paternal grandfather, Luigi Nannariello. We visited the tombstone of my maternal grandparents, Canio and Rosa Martiniello, who were both killed in an earthquake in Calitri in 1910. We visited the homes of friends and family of Nannariello’s both past and present; we saw the home where my mother was born; we walked the streets and took many photos.
Mr. R was generous with his time and insights and his unique understanding of the two cultures, having lived and survived in both. His love of Calitri was obvious in his enthusiasm in revealing history and ancestry. There was a smile in his eyes and his voice as he introduced me to people and pontificated on the beauty of a church or garden or pastoral views of farmland populated by sheep. He enlightening me on the beauty and traditions and the way of life Calitri offered. This man that I passed so many times in the hallways of my school in New Rochelle redefined our relationship and his memory is still appreciated after all these years.
Unfortunately, in revisiting these memories to write this story seventy years later, circumstances have resulted in all of those photos being lost. Possibly those photos would have awakened some forgotten memories.
At the time, the trip was kind of an intellectual and physical blitz that started and ended too soon. My memories are somewhat faded after seventy years. The trip back Germany started at the Calitri railroad station and a tired and very pleased young man returned to Kaiserslautern. I missed some of the train window views because of the need to sleep. It was many years later, that discussions with people involved with the development of this Ancestry website, informed me that my return to Calitri was the first among the children of the six Nannariello siblings of Luigi and Francesca Nannariello. Obviously, many Calitrani over the last 120 years and more have made trips back and forth to their roots in Calitri. It continues to be a pleasant memory.
I was able to share my experience with my mother by mail when initially returning from Calitri to Germany. After separating from the Army in 1954 and returning home, there were more discussions about Calitri with my mother. My Mother died in 1969 and she and my father have left the legacy of Calitri to their children. They shared a piece of their Calitri birthright with us in the way we were raised and so many traditions.
We, their seven children, are all Calitrani!
Visit to Calitri 1976 Richard Nannariello II
By Richard Nannariello II
My name is Richard Nannarello (aka Richard Nannariello) born on June 22, 1956 in White Plains, New York to Richard Nannariello and Antoinette Nannariello (nee Mercatante). My paternal grandparents are the late Canio Nannariello (DOB: May 31, 1901) and Angelina Nannariello (nee Passarella; DOB: Dec. 19, 1909).
My Grandfather, Canio, was born and raised in a small town in Campania, Italy named Calitri where, as a teenager, he worked in his family’s business as a shoemaker – “un calzolaio.” In 1920 at the young age of 19, he immigrated by ship to the United States via Ellis Island, NY and stayed with his Uncle Donato Nannariello’s family, who sponsored him. Donato and his wife Vincenza, owned a modest brick hotel with a bar/restaurant at street level located at 21 Main Street, White Plains next to the train tracks. The building no longer exists. Donato also immigrated from Calitri in the late 1800’s and was an accomplished entrepreneur who sponsored many Calitrano’s in America. Unfortunately, Donato passed away at a very young age about ten years after my Grandfather arrived in White Plains.
For many summers during my tween and teen years in the 1960s, I worked with my Grandfather in two poolside casual restaurants within affluent Country Clubs; one in Greenwich, CT, and the other in Rye, NY. Given his thick Italian accent and limited math skills, he predominately did the cooking, while I dealt directly with the customers taking orders, making beverages, preparing and serving meals, tallying bills, handling financial transactions and keeping inventory. While working with my Grandfather, I learned many good workmanship ethics, which seemed to be natural to him. These skills included to be hard-working, honest, clean, organized, efficient, polite, professional yet friendly, responsible, a team player, eager to serve customers, and to enforce the interests of the employer. To avoid any appearance of nepotism to the customers, I had to address my Grandfather by his American nickname – “Charlie.”
While working with Charlie these many summers, he would frequently talk about his beloved home town, Calitri; how much he missed it, and how much he would like to visit it with me one day. He had it all planned – the next April (“the ideal time to visit”) we would fly to Rome, rent a car, and then drive south to Calitri. Unfortunately, Charlie never did make it back to his beloved Calitri. But, his admiration for his dear hometown and dream to return to it were revealed to me many times.
In 1976 when I was 19, I was taking a variety of pre-requisite courses at nearby Westchester Community College in Valhalla, NY. I had a variety of interests, but unsure on an educational major nor a career path at this young age. Given my free spirit, my joy for travel and adventure (I already had been to France twice), and my love for European art, history and culture; I took a break from college in order to take a long visit to Europe. After saving money from a part-time job as a shoe clerk/salesman in a high end department store (coincidentally, the same line of work Canio did at this same young age), I went on a nine month educational adventure by travelling throughout Europe by backpack and on a tight budget. I first traveled to Spain, where I spent most of my trip, and then I traveled to and through France, England, Belgium, Netherlands, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Germany, Austria, Yugoslavia, Greece, and then to Trieste, Italy. I saw much of the great historic landmarks, sites, and art of Europe, and I met and travelled with many good interesting people who were on the same adventure trek. What a terrific experience! It was a great mental exercise travelling to each country and needing to quickly learn a new currency, culture, and language as I crossed many borders This was pre European Union. Unfortunately, I did experience some harassment on the train travelling through Yugoslavia since at that time it was the “Cold War” and I was on the other side of the “Iron Curtain.”
I was very excited to be in Italy for the first time in the magnificent city of Venezia. Now that I was in Italy, I thought how it would be a great thrill to surprise my Grandfather by visiting his beloved Calitri. This became my next travel plan. I did not know anyone in Calitri nor did I think we had any family left there. I took a train from Venezia and traveled southerly along the Adriatic coast to the inland city of Foggia, where I stayed overnight. The next day, I took a train westerly bound for Avellino, where there was a stop for Calitri. At first, the train travel from Foggia was through open flat agricultural land. Suddenly, it became mountainous while travelling along the bottom of narrow valley through a rural wooded area.
Finally, the train arrived at Calitri, which as at the bottom of a narrow valley surrounded by mountains. I was excited to finally be here! It was November 1976. A few people along with myself disembarked into the train station. I walked around the “town” and was very disappointed. There were just a dozen or so dreary industrial buildings and houses in this narrow dark valley with a stream running through it – nothing special. I didn’t blame Grandpa for leaving this depressing “town”. Nonetheless, I did take some photos to prove my visit and to please my Grandfather, but I didn’t want to stay overnight. I went back into the train station to inquire about the next train to Napoli.
The train station was empty except for the station master. He noted my distress and tried to help. He took my outside and pointed up to the top of a mountain crowned with a town. That’s Calitri! It appeared to me as an Italian style “Machu Picchu.” – a city on a mountain top. I then understood that Calitri was a remote mountain town, and that this was merely its train station at the base of the valley. I became happy about this innocent misunderstanding. I learned from the station master that I had missed the shuttle bus up the mountain to the town, and there were no taxis. Therefore, I had to climb the “goat trail” that lead up the steep mountain along the right side of a road (Strada Statale 399) with its sharp turns. I traversed up through somewhat open agricultural land, and the view got better as I got higher.
Finally, I arrived to the top of the mountain and entered into the town. It was exciting to be in this busy interesting little town so high up in the sky. It was getting late and I was fatigued, so I walk through the streets searching for a hotel to no avail. Someone directed me to a “pensione” in an unassuming modest two-story row house a block off the main intersection where SS 399 meets Via Pittoli. In the main entrance room of the Pensione was a staircase on the left, a dining room to the rear, and a long counter on the right that served double duty for business and kitchen activities. I checked-in with the manager, a pleasant older gentleman, and gave him my passport upon his request. I went upstairs, unpacked and began to rest in my modest cool room with a view. Much later, I heard from below many excited voices and commotion. Someone ran upstairs and knocked loudly on my door. It was the manager and he was excited. He asked me “Are you a Nannariello.” I answered “Yes”. He asked me to come downstairs. After I collected myself, I went downstairs and went into the rear dining room where there were a few happy people. They presented me with a box of photos to look through. I looked and immediately recognized Tony De Carlo (my Grandfather’s cousin) and his wife, Frances. They all got excited, and it was explained to me that they are Tony’s family, Alfonso and Angelina De Carlo, and their grown son, Alfonso. It was amazing that by chance I was staying with distant relatives! It was explained to me that there are a number of Nannariello’s in Calitri. I then realized that I do have distant family in Calitri! Wow! Immediately, I changed my travel plan and wanted to stay in Calitri for a longer duration.
For the next few days, there were many people who came to visit me. I was not accustomed to so much attention, but enjoyed the experience. One visitor was an elderly gentleman, Vincenzo Nannariello. He was my Grandfather’s first cousin. He was accompanied by another elderly gent, Joe Stanco, who lived in New Rochelle, spoke perfect English, and retired in Calitri. Joe became a wonderful friend and served as a guide and translator.
Vincenzo and Joe walked me all over Calitri and they showed me the following sights:
- At the peak of the mountain were the stone ruins of “il Borgo Castello di Calitri,” which is the medieval walled town of Calitri with a castle within to house a feudal Lord/Count.
- The main entrance to the stone ruins of the walled town (“la porta di Nanno”) with the ruins of a circular watchtower (“il torre di Nanno”). Until last year, I learned the prevailing theory that the origin of the surname Nannariello derives from this portal/tower. In the 1500s, an ancestor, Antonio, was the responsible party for this entrance/tower, hence he took on the name Antonio di Nanno. The Suffix “riello” was added to his root surname name to reflect Antonio’s dear descendants. Nanno is a contraction of “nuovo anno” – New Year.
- The ruins of my Grandfather’s maternal Grandparents’, Canio Martiniello and Rosa nee Bozza, stone house where they were tragically killed by the infamous earthquake (“terremoto”) of 1910.
- The modest unassuming two-story row house where my Grandfather and his family resided on a narrow alley (1 or 2 streets below and east of Via Tozzoli).
- The nearby church of my Grandfather’s family, La Chiesa dell’Immacolata Concezione.
Joe Stanco and his wife Lucia resided near the De Carlo Pensione. I had visited their home several times, and they were both very kind and helpful to me.
Vincenzo’s daughter, Iolanda Maffucci (her married name) came to visit me at the Pensione and invited me to her home for dinner. Her dear family included her husband, Michele, two daughters, Anna Maria and Enza, and Anna Maria’s husband, and their two children. They were all very kind and gracious to me. Enza had also served as a guide and took me to the main cemetery at the edge of town to show me the graves of Nannariello’s, including that of my Great Grandfather, Luigi. His gravestone had a picture of him and I noted the resemblance. Iolanda drove me around the area, outside the town, and entertained me at the family’s bar/restaurant on Corso Giacomo Matteotti, which is near il torrre di Nanno.
I was also introduced to some other Nannariello family members including a nun, but fortunately could not communicate well with them since my Italian language skill was limited. At the Pensione, I became close to the elderly matriarch of the De Carlo family – Angelina. I would enjoy sitting next to her keeping warm by the oven fire making small conversation. She was a lovely gentle lady.
After a week of bliss, discovery, and meeting many wonderful people, I decided it was time to move on with my grand trip to travel by train to Napoli via Avellino. It was very bittersweet to say good bye to everyone. The De Carlos were very gracious and did not charge me for staying in their Pensione. Iolanda gave me a bag of homemade biscotti and drove me down into the valley to the train station. It was a pleasure to be driven down the steep mountain side on SS 399 past the “goat trail” that I had climbed a week earlier.
After Napoli, I traveled to Roma, Firenze, Monaco, Nice, Nimes, Barcelona, and back to Madrid to take my return flight to New York. When home, I was so pleased to meet my Grandfather at his home in White Plains to tell him about my wonderful visit to Calitri, to describe the sites, his home, and Church and showed him the many photographs. He then became reconnected with his Cousin Vincenzo, after many decades. Canio was very delighted!!!
Visit to Calitri 1978 Richard Nannariello
By Richard Nannariello
I am Richard Nannariello, the son of Canio Nannariello and sharing my recollections of my first and only visit to Calitri, Italy in 1978, where my father was born in 1901 and from which he immigrated to the United States in 1921.
I worked for the Reader’s Digest in Chappaqua, New York and did significant business traveling to Europe. My wife, Antoinette Mercatante Nannariello was traveling with me. She is called Toni. It was decided to combine a business trip to Holland and France with an added visit to Italy and specifically to Calitri in Campania and my Father’s birthplace. We went Calitri from Paris by way of Rome and it happened to be Easter week. We had the good fortune to stand in St. Peter’s Square on a rather cool Easter Sunday as Pope Pius VI celebrated Easter mass. After Easter mass we ended up in Testaverde and a small restaurant with delicious foods displayed in the window that would entice anyone to enter. A gregarious Italian family, observed two lone Americans eating and invited us to join them at their table. It was a festive and gregarious Easter and we were the benefactors of the common Italian hospitality.
The next morning, we commenced our trip to Calitri. I drove a rental car from Rome south on the autostrada to Naples and then the final two hours or so due east to mountainous spine of Italy and to Calitri. Prior to this 1978 trip, my father Canio (Charlie) Nannariello alerted me to look up an old friend in Calitri, Giuseppe Stanco. Giuseppe or Joe had immigrated from Calitri to the United States, possibly around the time my father did in 1921. Giuseppe lived and worked in New York City, and specifically The Bronx, for many years with his lovely wife, Lucia. They retired and returned to Calitri. A retired American getting a Social Security check could live rather comfortably in Calitri in 1978.
We stayed at a small Calitri hotel run by the DeCarlo family. It was a home adapted to be a hotel. It was small and clean and served extraordinary food in a family style room on the lower level. The hotel had been in the family for more than seventy years in 1978, and was previously run by Signora DeCarlo’s father. We arrived not announced and our Nannariello name got instant attention from the DeCarlo owners and eventually other people. My very limited ability to speak Italian was an issue during my stay, but many people were accommodating and we received a lot of assistance in being understood. When eating at the De Carlo hotel, the local priest and workers and hotel guests and just about anybody else would arrive to eat their midday meal. Everyone ate communally in a few shared large tables. Food appeared in large quantities and variety, and it was as sumptuous as any meal in an elegant high-end restaurant.
Our first act of the first morning in Calitri, was to find Giuseppe Stanco. Conventiently, Giuseppe and Lucia Stanco lived just a few doors down the street from the hotel at Via Margotta 18. Giuseppe had a full crop of gray hair, a great memory of distant years and events, and was gracious and generous with his time. His wife Lucia, who was born a Cestone in Calitri, was a lovely lady with a bright smile and generous in entertaining us with coffee and sweet cakes.
For our several days in Calitri, we (Joe, Toni, and Richard) literally walked around Calitri viewing buildings, churches, cemeteries, and the pleasantly tangled streets of Calitri. These were both pedestrian and automobile streets that grew up the mountain and down the mountain over the centuries of the evolution of Calitri. We saw the home where my father and possibly all of his ten siblings were born. The address is Via Immacolata Concezione 48. The house was one block below a piazza where a church, La Chiesa D’Annunciata, was destroyed by an earthquake in 1910. My father was baptized in this church, We visited the cemetery where Luigi Nannariello, my grandfather, was buried.
In the 1910 earthquake, or terramoto, this church and large parts of Calitri were destroyed. I have some scribbled notes that indicate the church was built in 1714 and had been damaged prior to 1910 with other earthquakes. Also, Charlie’s maternal grandparents, Canio and Rosa Martiniello, were killed together in their home as they slept and their home collapsed in the 1910 earthquake. My recollection is the Martiniello home was on the same pedestrian street as the Nannariello home. My father was about nine years old at the time of the earthquake. When I was possibly a little older than that age, he shared with me and my brother his recollection of his maternal grandparents dying in the earthquake. The history of Calitri is filled with periodic earthquakes.
The earthquake of 1910 was the motivation for Vito Acocella, a priest from Naples, to write a comprehensive History of Calitri. His observation and fear were that this lovely and ancient village could be destroyed by earthquakes and forgotten, and no one would know its history. The English translation of the History of Calitri was produced by an American, Ben Montalbano, around 1980. Ben has his ancestral roots in Calitri and his English translation is an extraordinary accomplishment. The English translation of Vito Acocella’s original History of Calitri, is available in English on this website.
In our wanderings about Calitri, very often Giuseppe would knock on a door and say: “Questo e’ il figlio di Canio Nannariello,” or “This is the son of Canio Nannariello.” Though I could read and write a little Italian, my ability to speak and understand was extremely limited. Giuseppe would translate into English the faded recollections of schoolmates and playmates and workmates and their distant recollections of a young Canio Nannariello, who immigrated from Calitri in 1921. He was twenty years old when he immigrated, but in their eyes, he was forever young. I could only imagine the joy of returning to Calitri with my father and knocking on the doors of some of these same people and my father saying “Io sono Canio Nannariello. Ho ritornato,” or “I am Canio Nannariello. I have returned.” It never happened. One can only imagine that missed opportunity and the joy such a return would have provided.
We met Iolanda Maffucci, her father Vincenzo Nannariello, and her daughter Enza. Iolanda had another daughter Anna Maria, who did not live in Calitri at the time. Vincenzo’s father was Angelo Nannariello, the brother of Luigi Nannariello, my father’s father. Vincenzo and my Father were first cousins and shared the same Grandparents. There is a recollection that Vincenzo was a poet and there is some regret we do not have available some of his poetry. Iolanda and her daughter Enza, were gracious hosts in sharing the hospitality of their home and the wonderful cakes Iolanda baked in her bakery. Iolanda lived at Corso Matteotti 24.
Walking through the cemetery with Joe, we approached the tombstone of my Grandfather Luigi Nannariello, and I viewed the photo that was embedded in the tombstone. The only photo of my Grandfather that my father had shared with his family, was identical to the one on the tombstone. I was able to identify the tombstone before reading the name. Luigi was a calzalaio or shoemaker and had trained Canio in his craft, until the time Canio made his journey to the United States. We met Canio DiCarlo the brother of Alfonso DiCarlo. It is not clear from my notes which of the two, Canio or Alfonso, lived in the United States and managed a Tom McCann shoe store. Very significantly, he said that Vincenzo DiCarlo was the first Calitrani to immigrate to the United States. This minimal information has not been verified through research and it would be very historic to determine who was the first Calitrani to brave immigration both alone and being the first.
Joe Stanco was delightfully patient and having spent more than forty years of his life in the United States, was literally enthusiastic and proud to share his past and current knowledge of Calitri. When I went to his home the second day, he presented me with his hand drawn map of Calitri. I am privileged and proud to have found the map in my notes and share this 1978 view of Calitri from Joe Stanco. He had meticulously drawn the map and walked me through many of the areas, sharing stories, introducing me to people, and making me feel like a “Calitrani.”
On the final day at the DeCarlo hotel, a significant number of people had gathered in the large room on the first floor, where meals were served. It was a pleasant surprise that people had come for a farewell gathering. There was one Calitrani gentleman who spoke very good English and this greatly accommodated my understanding the comments about our visit. He explained that he learned his English as prisoner of war during the Second World War when he was shipped to South Africa. Several of the people had prepared a package specifically for Canio Nannariello. The package included homemade pasta, a tomato sauce cooked to perfection, and a piece of pecorino cheese. My gracious benefactors suggested that my Father should have the opportunity to share the best of Calitrani food when I returned home. What is more Italian, than Italians giving other Italians food to gift to another Italian.
The automobile trip back to Rome was filled with pleasant memories of the past several days. When signing the declaration form at customs in JFK Airport in New York City that I was not “carrying any food” in my luggage, I felt no guilt. I was not caught in that deceit and it was worth breaking the law if caught, assuming the Authorities let me keep the food.
At the first Sunday dinner after the return from Italy, my Mother prepared this special Calitrano meal for my Father and the Family. I shared my experiences of the trip to Calitri and this caused my Father to reveal some of his recollections and memories never discussed before. He seemed to have a fascination for his recollection of the pedestrian streets and piazzas of the city where he spent the first twenty years of his life. He would make very detailed comments about a particular street or building and I was certain that his recollections matched with what I had seen.
When the dinner was served, Charlie ate the pasta and pecorino cheese joyfully. He continued to share with the family more aroused childhood recollections of Calitri. He was not too articulate with words about his feelings, but his eyes and pensive eating of the meal revealed his feelings. Through his Calitrani provided meal he had reached out and vicariously touched his Calitri roots. We can only imagine the memories that were stirred.
For several months after the return from Calitri and that dinner, there were reasonably serious, but not detailed discussions about the possibility of my Father and I returning to Italy. I wanted him to have the opportunity to say, “I sono Canio Nannariello. Ho ritornato.” He was in good health, about seventy-seven years of age, and still several years away from the unknown Alzheimer’s that eventually would make the trip impossible. He had never traveled much and the trepidation that he felt, both spoken and some held inside, made it obvious that he did not want to do it. He was content that he had his Calitrani meal and stirred memories of his birthplace that he left almost sixty years before. I accept with understandable regret the trip that he and I did not make. Possibly in his aroused memories, he walked the streets of Calitri one last time. He spent twenty years of his life in Calitri and the rest of his life in White Plains, New York. It was a great journey!
Canio Nannariello was born and died a Calitrani and a proud American!
Visit to Calitri 1982 Robert Nannariello
By Richard Nannariello
I am Richard Nannariello, the father of Robert (Bobby) Nannariello. I have written the story of Bobby’s visit to Calitri with many regrets that we do not have his first person and firsthand account of that visit. Unfortunately, we lost Bobby in 1992 and we did not want the story of his visit to Calitri to be forgotten. Bobby was a prolific and committed writer for most of his life. We would have benefited by his observations and memoires and his writing prowess on his reflections of his visit. Some indication of Bobby’s writing abilities and biographical information, can be found on Bobby’s website, robertnannariello.com, that contains some of his poetry, short stories, children stories and plays. I have chosen to write Bobby’s story as a narrator in the third person.
This is the story of Robert (Bobby) Nannariello’s visit to Calitri, Italy, the birthplace of his grandfather, Canio (Charlie) Charlie Nannariello. Bobby is one of the three sons of Richard Nannariello and Antoinette Mercatante Nannariello. His brothers are Richard and John. His story is one of the four stories told in this Ancestry about visits to Calitri by ancestors of the six Nannariello’s children of Luigi Nannariello and Francesca Martiniello Nannariello, who immigrated to the United States. Bobby was the last of the four ancestors to make the journey. Bobby, was preceded by Joe DeCosmo in 1954, son of Rosa Nannariello DeCosmo and Giuseppe DeCosmo; Bobby’s brother Richard in 1976, son of Richard and Antoinette Mercatante Nannariello; Bobby’s father Richard Nannariello in 1978, son of Canio and Angelina Passarella Nannariello. The other three stories each has a first person account of their experience returning to their Calitri ancestral beginnings. Collectively these four stories provide an interesting and informative insight into the linkage between the Nannariello’s who departed from Calitri in the early 1900’s and their returning American descendants. All of those four who returned were Americans and at the same time anointed as Calitrani.
Bobby was born to be a writer and at an early age demonstrated his interest in writing. He studied in both Rider College in New Jersey and Pace College in Pleasantville New York. His college interests included communications, literature, and journalism and he graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Literature and Communications. He was a prolific keeper of journals, written in a unique and very legible writing style that was a hybrid of printing and modified script. Unfortunately, a search of his journals did not uncover any memoir or personal recollections about his trip to Calitri in 1982.
When he made the trip, he lived in Munich Germany, having arrived in Munich in 1981 and leaving in 1986. It was in Munich that he attended a German Institute and studied the German language for several years. This education and living in Munich for more about six years resulted in his complete fluency in German. He worked on an American Army base in Munich as both a waiter and salesperson; and also held a job as English tutor for a few years. During those years he traveled a lot around Europe and the Middle East. Also, he had an opportunity to travel to Hong Kong and China in 1983 to visit his father who had a corporate assignment in Hong Kong.
Bobby knew of Calitri and his Italian heritage through his father and grandfather. He was raised feeling the influence of his grandfather, Charlie Nannariello, and his Italian heritage. He grew up in Thornwood, New York and Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Angie lived in White Plains; and his grandparents were very much a part of his childhood. Bobby was a second generation Italian American on his Grandfather Charlie’s side and third generation Italian American on his Grandmother Angie’s side. Bobby’s mother is Antoinette (Toni) Mercatante Nannariello and her mother, Bobby’s maternal grandmother, was born in Italy, so he was a second generation Italian on his mother’s side.
Bobby lived in Munich during some of his formative years in his development as a writer. While in Munich he published three small books of poetry and began writing plays and short stories. He was once invited to travel to Paris to do a poetry reading at a literary club. He had a working knowledge of French, but certainly not with the fluency he had in German. He had an opportunity to work on a screenplay that required being bi-lingual in English and German. Though this opportunity did not go to completion, he had enjoyed the excitement and experience of the opportunity. His writing interests and capabilities in various genres appeared to be very flexible and adaptable. By the time he left Munich after six years, he produced a significant body of work.
Munich is about 780 miles directly north of Calitri, but obviously significantly more miles by train. The train journey would take Bobby through southern Germany, through part of Austria and down the east coast of Italy. The trip would be about twenty hours and we can be reasonably certain Bobby would not take a berth, but would look out the window and sleep as the train revealed the Italian country side. He stopped at Venice, possibly for a day or two and there is a photo of him in San Marco square that unfortunately is not available. Proceeding south on the train would require making a change in trains at Foggia, so that he could proceed due west to Calitri. Finally, Bobby arrived in Calitri about sixty years after his grandfather Canio had departed in 1921. Bobby frequently called his parents at home from Munich to keep them updated on what he was doing and to be in touch with the family. However, he did not tell them of his trip to Calitri until he had completed the visit. Obviously, it was very pleasant surprise to them.
There was a small hotel in Calitri operated by the DeCarlo family. We can imagine that Bobby had the same experience that his brother and his father had when they arrived in Calitri. After arriving at the DeCarlo hotel, one of the few hotels in town, there soon was a following of people seeking and wondering, “Who is this English speaking Nannariello.” The DeCarlo’s would be certain to communicate about the new arrival to the appropriate people. Bobby’s last name was a door opener to an enthusiastic welcome. Nannariello is an old established Calitrani name. No one with a Calitrani name returns to Calitri without the name and the person being greeted with a very gracious indigenous welcome. Bobby was an inherited Calitrani and he was treated as such.
Just several houses away from the DeCarlo hotel, lived Joe Stanco and his wife Lucia Stanco. Joe would be one of the first persons to be notified by the DeCarlo’s when a visitor from the United States appeared in their hotel. Joe became translator and guide and friend to all those visitors, as he had for Bobby’s brother and father before him. Joe had immigrated to the United States, possibly in the early 1920’s, and lived and worked in the The Bronx, New York. He returned with his wife to Calitri in his retirement, as other Calitrani had, and could live comfortably on his US Social Security.
As his father and brother before him, Bobby made contact with Iolanda Nannariello Maffucci, her daughter Enza Maffucci, and her father Vincenzo Nannariello. Bobby need not seek them out and certainly did not know of them, but they would seek him out. Vincenzo’s father and Canio Nannariello’s father, Luigi Nannariello, were brothers, making Canio and Vincenzo first cousins. They had last seen each other in 1921 when Canio immigrated to the United States. Vincenzo spent his entire life in Calitri.
In photos taken by Bobby, we see Vincenzo Nannariello, in his early eighties at the time, with a shock of gray hair and large round glasses that framed a very classic Calitrani face. There is some oral history that Vincenzo was a poet. Bobby was a poet. However, we do not know if Bobby and Vincenzo shared the facts of their common interest in writing poetry. They were poets bonded by the same last name and ancestry, and despite their significant difference in age, both had a limited number of years to continue telling their poetic stories. When Bobby met Vincenzo we can only imagine what recollections Vincenzo had of his cousin Canio, who had departed Calitri in 1921 for the United States and never to return. In both of their memories they had not aged in their over sixty years of passing life.
Joe Stanco conducted walking tours for Bobby to the Nannariello homestead at Via Immaculata Concessione 48; the local cemetery where many Nannariello’s rested including Bobby’s great grandfather Luigi Nannariello; local churches; the Antico Borgo with vestiges of old Calitri; rows of tiled roofed and stone homes pyramiding up the side of the 1900 foot high mountain adorned by Calitri; a small chapel along a hillside welcoming travelers and local shepherds and workers; and many of the streets that his Grandfather Canio would have known and walked. Bobby’s great grandparents Luigi Nannariello died in 1931 and Francesca Nannariello died in 1935. Oral history indicates the Nannariello home was probably sold in the late 1930’s or early 1940’s. The home had survived many terramoto, or earthquakes, and created had been the birthplace of ten Nannariello children.
Iolanda and Enza and Vincenzo entertained Bobby in their home and we can assume with some version of pasta with a marinara sauce, local red wine and pecorino cheese. Enza is pictured with Bobby in some of the photos and they would be about the same age. Bobby completed his visit to Calitri and proceeded down to the train station, and traveled back to Munich. He had met and bonded across the generations in a place and with people who shared the legacy of his name and traditions and ancestry. Bobby returned to the United States in 1986 after spending a total of about six years in Munich. After returning to the United States, he shared his personal recollections of his trip to Calitri with his family; and particularly Grandpa Charlie before Charlie died in 1988 after several years of battling Alzheimer’s.
Following are two poems Bobby wrote during his time in Munich and after his trip to Calitri. We do not know if these poems were inspired by his reflections of his trip to Calitri. The poems both appeared in the same book of poetry that he published in Munich. Both poems are observational poems providing reflections on life as observed by a young man in the latter part of his twenties who imagined that he had many decades to make many more observations.
For the first poem, “Landmarks”, the readers can find whatever truths the poem reveals and explore to find their own truths relevant to Bobby’s observations. One can believe that Calitri provided its “landmarks” for Canio Nannariello and in some mysterious way found its way to the heart and soul of Bobby and eventually into one of his poems. Poems often have meanings deeper than the poet or the reader can have imagined when written and when read. One can imagine that Calitri “landmarked” this poet to write this poem. However, we do not know.
The second poem, “Lessons From the Earth”, is another observational poem. Again, possibly the “tree” is a metaphor for everyone’s “Ancestry, ” and what is unknown and forgotten or not understood about our Ancestry. Shakespeare said simply and concisely” “What is past is prologue.” This can be appropriate for love and war and, yes, for ancestry. Consider the last line of this brief poem and then consider our Ancestry: “It may teach us something. ” Possibly this poem was intended for this Ancestry as part of a young man exploring his Ancestry in a trip from Munich to Calitri.
These two poems were written about forty years ago around the late 1980’s. Truth can be packaged in a speech or a song or a poem or a story or a homily or an oral history or in a casual conversation. Possibly, some of the truth in these poems lives in this exploration of our Ancestry and hopefully the exploration is enabled by the observations of these two poems. Again possibly, Bobby had some memories of his visit to Calitri years before and the imprint on his mind of stepping back into his Ancestry and connecting with the ideas expressed in his two poems, “Landmarks” and “Lesson from the Earth.”
We lost Bobb in 1992 in San Francisco, after his too short journey through life. It is with much joy and warm memories his visit to Calitri is recalled. He walked the streets of Calitri, just as his grandfather Canio Nannariello did fifty years before. He met relatives and friends, he saw sights that his grandfather had, and slept several nights under Calitrani skies.
It has been noted that we are all obligated to be good ancestors on behalf of those that shall follow us. Through Bobby’s writings on his website, he has left a legacy of his writing and decades later shall thereby connect with some of those who follow. He has been a good and faithful ancestor.
Bobby is an American! Bobby is of Calitrani heritage! God love him for his visit to Calitri.
Landmarks
Land marks your love
and your hate and the
spot where you were born.
It’s written in your
passport. You are validated.
You cannot be erased.
Land marks your feet
waiting for a subway in
New York. Climbing up a
mountain in the Alps.
Running on a beach in
Mexico, Land marks.
Land mark’s your first step
and your last. The moment
you laid eyes on, the time
you said goodbye
You cannot deny it
Land marks it
Land marks your journey
Up and down
Rich and poor
Young and old
You will mark the land
And the land will mark you too.
Lessons From the Earth
The tree on the other side
Of the house-
In the storm
It died last night
But it’s too big to bury now
We’ll wait some years
And watch it
It may teach us something.