Nonni Exuded Peace and Contentment while having Plenty of Smarts

“Two years ago, this shy little miss came to us directly from Italy. She seemed to fit right in, and has distinguished her stay in Classical High School by her good scholarship. We who are acquainted with know her as an excellent little friend, always ready to give any help she can when it is asked for, yet too shy to intrude. Anna says she likes America, and our school very much but some day hopes to return to her beloved native Italy.” So says Nonni’s high school yearbook, and it sounds about right. I said as much at her wake in 2007

“Never too high or low, Nonni was content and always seemed at peace with her surroundings. But that’s not to say that Anna Ancora had an empty head.

Nonni was the youngest of seven and came to the United States in 1925. Reunited with her father in Providence, she spoke Italian, French, Greek and Latin. Unfortunately, Nonni knew no English, and continuing her education might have seemed tenuous.

She was initially enrolled at a nearby junior high school, but the principal felt the school wasn’t right for Nonni. They conversed in French, and he recommended Classical High School.

Founded in 1843, the school’s motto is “To Strive, to Seek, to Find, and Not to Yield,” and Nonni was speaking fluent English within six months. 

Nonetheless, things went well for the Ancora family at first. Her father (Bellasario) made a living as a tailor and played his music in accompaniment with movie houses. There was a lot of family and friends, and Nonni used to spend time on her cousin’s farm, where they grew corn and raised cows. In fact, the Pucino’s acreage was converted during WWIIand housed soldiers.

Nonni also had many girlfriends and was accepted to Pembroke College. But the depression permanently detoured her life. Bellasario lost his job and could not afford the $600 yearly tuition in 1929.

Sulking or not, Nonni didn’t just sit on her smarts. She learned shorthand and typing and got an office job.

Her spirits didn’t diminish either, and she continued to socialize with family and friends. One such occasion had her meeting my grandfather, where they had a common friend. 

A four year long distance relationship flowered, and the couple eloped to New York City in 1932. They settled in Manhattan, where Angelo Cafueri was a waiter at Giovanni’s on East 55th Street.

Nonni became good friends with Giovanni and his family, while Ada was born in 1933 and Lita in 1937. Of course, the depression made life hard. Nonni would walk long distances to pay five cents for bread and beans, and homemade macaroni was frequently on the menu. 

There weren’t a lot of trips to Neiman Marcus either. Macy’s was a destination, though. Nonni would purchase fabric, and the fashionable clothes she made with her mother, clothed the girls into young adulthood.

Better times did come, and Nonni still got out to Rhode Island. Nonno would stay behind and Nonni often spent the summer with her daughters. The trio stayed with an old friend named Grace, but they narrowly escaped tragedy. 

Piedro Glasso was another old Providence friend, who suggested that it was getting cold and time to head back to NY. So he came by, packed the Cafueri’s up and summer vacation was over. A week later on September 21, The Great 1938 Hurricane hit. 400 people were killed, and Grace was washed away with her home.

Life going on, Nonni’s dressmaking skills eventually turned into a profession. On Union Port Road, Nonni worked at a small shop that made women’s suits and coats for Lord and Taylor.

Beyond 9-5, Nonni played Bingo at St Dominic’s, attended the Opera and Radio City Music Hall and liked going to the movies. Otherwise, the family used went to South Beach on Staten Island, and she enjoyed swimming. 

But like her husband, Nonni took time to come around in terms of her future son-in-law. Rather than a high school educated “Elevator Boy, she hoped her daughter would meet someone at college.

They warmed up to Charlie Monetti when Lita took the apartment upstairs with her husband David. My father would often come around to meet up with his good friend, and by the time the Monetti’s got married, Nonni took the coupling in stride - just as she always had with everything.

My Grandfather’s Depth of Feeling made a Life for his Whole Family

In the first 18 months of my life, My Nonno was a constant presence. However, he would leave for an extended return to Italy with my grandmother in 1966. The departure must have left a pretty big void. The year and a half absence had to have been long forgotten by the time he came back, though. The assumption - it turns out - is glaringly incorrect.

Once Angelo Cafueri came ashore to meet us in New York, I ran right to him like he had never left. I’m pretty sure that is remarkable.

His original trip to America began as fascism was on the rise in Italy, and his brother got caught up in the movement. As a result, Dominic found himself in lookup. But Nonno had connections from the time he served in King Victor Emmanuel’s Royal Guard and was able to secure his brother’s release. 

The clouds obviously darkening over Italy’s skies, my grandfather had enough of his homeland. So Nonno got a job a cargo vessel, and his plan was to jump ship once arriving in NYC.  

The journey lasted two and a half years, and a new life began with a complication. He had to leave the vast majority of his money behind. The captain knew you were emigrating if you asked for a lump sum before shore leave. The shipping company didn’t want that.

Nonetheless, the account of the pivotal moment has stayed with me. “I got off the boat, turned around and waved goodbye to the captain,” Nonno boasted.

He always made it sound easy, and the same goes for the seven years putting the dodge on immigration officials. The illegal alien had jobs but had to stay a step ahead. He gave up employment as he felt the heat was on and continually sought work elsewhere. 

Nonno became legal when he married Nonni in 1932, and it was always a given that love trumped any notions of convenience. But I did finally ask him late in life why he married Nonni. “Because I loved her,” Nonno revealed.

The words are in italics because the conversation had him in a playful mood, and the coy response implied that a degree of convenience influenced his decision. Of course, 65 years of marriage, two daughters, six grandchildren and a number of great grandchildren give the most weight to the life he chose.

As such, Nonno was always home on his one day off. He took his daughters to the movies and had Sunday dinner with family and friends. 

Nonno did make the most of any free time, though. He developed a strong understanding of business and the stock market. Aside from the the comfortable retirement the mastery provided, there were down payments for the homes we lived in, college tuition help and stocks his grandchildren still hold.

However, Nonno’s work as a waiter was far from dull. He always had tales of friendships with the likes of Gene Kelly, Lauren Bacall, David Rockefeller Governor Thomas Dewey, Cardinal Spellman, etc, etc.

He was so beloved, for instance, that a member of the Rothschild family heard that my mother wanted a pony. No problem, the mogul was ready to buy one for Angelo's daughter. Unfortunately, Nonno had to explain that the family couldn’t own a horse in the Bronx.

From Mayor Robert Wagner, 1957

Closer to home, Ted Williams was a frequent patron, and Nonno was certainly there to give him the appropriate adulation. But he was well liked enough to speak the truth to Teddy Ball Game. “You're a great ballplayer, but you’re not as good as Joe Dimaggio,” Nonno gave proper perspective.

My grandfather has also been preserved in the popular culture.  The character of Angelo appeared in a bestselling novel called Dinner at Antoine's and was based on Nonno.

For me, though, Nonno was there unconditionally and like many Italians, was pretty touchy feely. But as I got older, I didn’t like kissing him. “I don’t want to kiss a boy,” I would tell him. 

At times, he would shake my hand as a compromise. But that never felt right either, and I continued to do what I later realized was a necessity. Even so, we did gladly share a love of baseball. He was there at Yankee Stadium with me, my father and brother in 1973 when Bobby Murcer hit three home runs. 

Nonno also used to make me salami and eggs, we played cards and kept the stories going back and forth. He never completely mastered the English language so when my humor went over his head as everyone laughed, he got the translation from Nonni. 

On the other hand, Nonni could hold his own with a quip. As I was approaching college graduation, my turn to go to Italy came up in discussion. But he was having a minor tiff with Nonni so he took the opportunity to jab back. “Next year when you graduate, we’ll go to Italy, see Rome and the Coliseum,” he beamed. 

The beat perfectly set up, he finished. “And maybe we'll leave Nonni home.”

But what is more telling about Nonno is how he fared when real disagreements occurred. There was always one definitive sign that meant the argument was over - or that the argument had to end. Nonno started crying.

So no matter all the places he went, the courage he had, the people he knew, it was this depth of feeling and caring that made him the man we loved.

Carmela Ancora Held her Own

Carmela in Black

Carmela Ancora grew up in Franca Villa, and her grandmother owning a successful business, the family had an upperclass lifestyle.  So Carmela graduated from High School and played the piano.  She had three surviving siblings and they all settled in South America.  Cicello emigrated first in Bueno Aires and greeted Luigi and Maria years later.   

Carmela married Belasario Cafueri in 1885 at the age of 16 and had seven children.  But three died as infants, and an eight year old son died of diphtheria.  

The family business had Carmela cleaning the olives and keeping track of the books, while Belasario worked as a conductor and provided music lessons.  He set his sights elsewhere, though, and made for America.

Events did not allow (partial) reunification until 1925 in Providence, and Carmela arrived at Ellis Island with Nonni. An imperfect system, people’s last names were changed and children who were cross eyed were sent back with their families, according to Carmela’s account. 

Her quick wit and outspoke nature probably helped ease her transition to Providence. But transatlantic change was eased by the fact that there were many people from her old home town.  Unfortunately,  Belasario’s death in 1932 forced Carmela’s move to NYC with Nonni and Nonno (Angelo). 

Nonno and Carmela mostly got a long.  Like many Italians, Nonno had the utmost respect for his in-law. This despite the fact that Carmela had a lot to say, and the two didn’t always agree.  

One occasion occurred when my Mom's take on Mussolini wasn’t quite in line with Nonno’s.   Ada argued that everything associated with Mussolini actions was wrong for Italy and the world, while Nonno disagreed with the totality of the statement.  He still felt some of Mussolini’s positive impacts were worth noting.

So Carmela stepped in.  The mother-in-law instructed Nonno that he needed to respect what the schools were teaching and what his daughter was learning.  

Interestingly, her opinion was more in line with her son-in-law.  She felt Mussolini had his downsides but acknowledged his reforms in education and society.  In the end, Mussolini’s biggest sin was becoming aligned with Hitler, which led to Italy’s ruin. 

Geopolitics aside, Carmela was always up for a card game with Nonno, Manuelo the barber and Nonno’s cousin Angelino.  “She held her own,” said Ada. 

Otherwise, she played solitaire on the front porch, while keeping on eye on the neighborhood kids. She also satisfied the stereotype of the cranky old lady watching over.  “Stay off our porch and stop playing stoop ball,” she would chide. 

On the other hand, Carmela wasn’t all, get off my lawn.  In the summer, Carmela would get on the trolley to Orchard Beach with her granddaughters and neighborhood kids.  “She loved the water and wore an inflatable tube,” Mommy said. 

Of course, the kids knew who the boss was.  “We all listened to her - even if not everybody understood Italian,” Ada remembers. 

Back at home, the dog and cat knew the feeling.  Patch understood to stay out of her way and both learned to walk around the rug in the living room.

Patch

She didn’t pull any punches when the fish and vegetable cart came around either.  “Don’t put your finger on the scale,” she’d direct the vendor.

Grandma had no problem spoiling her granddaughters, though.  She gave us baths, braided our hair and did most of the cooking.  “Viene a mangiare,” Carmela would call out.  

The good food and the homemade macaroni roll did not rub off on Ada, and always redirected her grandmother’s efforts to teach her.  “I will cross that bridge when I come to it,” mommy would tell her. 

The necessity obviously came in 1957, and the old school instructions were definitely a challenge.  A little of this and a little of that always got the same response.  “How much is a little,” Ada remembers.

But the real slight initially was directed at her future husband.  “He’s like a long pole, what do you see him,” Mommy remembers, and Carmela called my dad Elevator Boy. 

Charlie Monetti worked the elevator at the Hotel Roosevelt, but when he came to visit on Garfield Street, Daddy frequently asked, “Who is Louie.”  

Lui means him, and that’s what Charlie usually heard from Carmela.  But Uncle David’s introduction was more tenuous.  His Navy tattoo said Mafia from Carmela’s experience, and the matriarch was horrified.  But once explained, David fast tracked passed Charlie in Carmela’s eyes.  

All was good by Lita and Ada’s weddings in 1956 and 1957, but Carmela’s health had deteriorated by then.  In the early 50s, her esophagus had been replaced by a plastic tube, and worn out after 10 years, she was too old for an operation.  

At home with her family, Carmela died on January 18, 1960. 

Luigi and Maria Ancora

                         Clockwise

Nonni, Carmela, Tomasina, Maria, Luigi and Nonni's Grandmother

In 1924, the Ancora family was finally ready to rejoin Belasario in America.  But some bureaucratic corruption prevented Nonni's brother and sister from making the journey to America.  A rich family bribed an official in the office, and Luigi and Maria's Visa papers were stolen.   So the family was presented with their only option.  Nonni and her Grandmother sailed to America, while Luigi and Maria embarked for Argentina. 

Zio Luigi

They did at least have a cousin in Argentina to get them settled.  Carmela's sister's son had settled in Buenos Aires earlier, and the brother and sister set aground with "Francesco."  Nonetheless, the hope was to secure a visa from Argentina and be reunited in Rhoda Island. Unfortunately, the emigration laws in Argentina made the siblings flight impossible. As such, Luigi became a electrician and supported his sister among the large Italian community in Buenos Aires.  He would eventually marry and an Italian woman, and Perota (Compillo) and Beba (Butti) were his two daughters.

On Left, Maria and her Husband Hugo. Luigi and his wife with Beba and Perota.

Beba

Maria would marry Alfonso, but all her children died in child birth.  Although she ended up raising Luigi's children after his wife died.  Perota married and gave birth to Marcello and Beba married Hugo who was a navy man in the time of Juan Peron.  Their kids were Silvia and Ricardo, and they later opened deli and made homemade macaroni.

Beba, Hugo and their Family

The family separation was entirely permanent, though.  Nonni and Nonni visited Argentina in 1964 and Luigi came to Sparta and Shenorock in 1974.  I actually remember Luigi watching TV with us as Richard Nixon resigned before the nation.  Apparently he had a comment that spoke to his times in Argentina. "In my country, Nixon would have had them all shot."

Uncle Angelo

Angelo on the right

Angelo Giancolo was Nonno's first cousin (and one of 21 children). Of course not all survived, but the Brindisi native was the son of Angelina who was the sister of our Great Grandfather, Vito Cafueri.  Like Nonno, Angelo apprenticed as a barber.  He went onto serve in the Navy prior to WWI and would marry and have two children. He came to the United States in the 1920s, and like many Italians, he left his family behind until he could establish himself in the new world.

As fate would have it, Angelo's wife died, and other than a visit after WWII,  the children never rejoined their father in America. Nonetheless, Angelo had a barbershop in Woodside on Roosevelt Ave, and Ada Monetti fondly remembers getting haircuts with her only American relative.  He had a special chair for children, told many stories and would give his male customers the hot towel treatment.

Nonno and Angelo head for Italy

In Italy with Angelo

A good uncle, he always had chocolate for his nieces and spent Christmas, Easter and many Sundays with the Cafueri's.  He often played cards with Nonno, Nonni's Mother and the other family barber, Manuelo.   Angelo even gave the Cafueri's their first dog when they lived in Manhattan.  Unfortunately, Lucky didn't live up to his name, and because he barked at night, the black and white spotted beagle was put up for adoption with another family.

He died in the 1950s and eventually Nonni lost contact with Angelo's second wife, Betty.

Angelo and Ada

The Old and the New World are all Connected

In the Italian peasant class, families used to send their children out to learn a trade. The man pictured above with his wife owned a grove in Franca Villa, and eight year old Angelo Cafueri trained on his farm.  Prior to that, Nonno had apprenticed with a barber, whose name was Manuelo Flora.  He didn't particularly like that trade, and after six or seven months, Nonno asked his family to learn something else.  Thus, he ended up on the farm. But the connection to the Barber carried over to America and played a part in our family history.

Angelo Cafueri's Mother

Manuelo on Left and Nonno's Cousin Angelo Giancolo 

By 1941, Nonno had long established himself at Giovanni's.  The Cafueri's lived on 339 East 55th, and because of nerves and stress, Nonno developed headaches. As a result, his doctor recommended that Nonno would benefit from fresh air, and that the family, "should move to the suburbs."

Mead Street

Believe it or not, the Bronx was known as the country back then.  In and around this time, Nonno became reconnected with his old mentor through his own barber.  Manuelo was working for a shop in Manhattan and lived on Van Nest Avenue. So when Nonno was faced with moving, Manuelo knew of an apartment on Mead Street, and the Cafueri's took flight.

Ada Cafueri

A small apartment with one bedroom, Ada and Lita slept in the living room.  Of course, the space turned out to be too small, and when another apartment opened up at 1738 Garfield, the Cafueri's moved again.

Then in 1942, the Daughters of the American Revolution put the house at 1726 Garfield Street up for sale, and the Cafueri's were able to pay a $6,000 lump sum.  Nonno's long time employer provided the balance. But Nonno would only accept the generosity as a loan and later paid back Giovanni.

Paid in Full

Nonetheless, Manuelo would go onto open his own shop on Union Port Road with John the Barber.  The families remained friends, and their son Joe helped Mommy on occasion with her driving lessons.  In fact, a license and Joe's assistance actually gave Ada an introduction to Westchester came long before moving to Shenorock.  She followed Joe up the narrow, windy Taconic at the designated speed limit of 35 MPH, and Sparkle Lake in Yorktown became a frequent escape.

So another fragile array of threads brings us all to today.

A Long Unknown Backstory to My Grandparents' Nuptials

The above photo of Nonni and Nonno's wedding day was taken in Providence, Rhode Island at the Church of the Holy Ghost.  Nonni and Nonno are seated with their witnesses on July 8, 1932.  The bridesmaid and best man are Jenny and "Espanol," but there is a previously unknown backstory to this ceremony.  But let's first explore how this New York waiter and came to meet his Providence based bride. 

Luigi Ancora came from a family of means and had three children. His wife died at some point later, and Luigi then married his wife’s sister. As could be imagined, the new arrangement probably didn’t go so smoothly and later had an impact on Ballasario Ancora (Nonni’s Father).

Nonetheless, Ballasario grew up, went to professional school and developed an interest in music. He took lessons and learned to play the violin and the trombone.  As such, Ballasario became a conductor and provided music lessons to students.

                             Ballasario's Passport

But his fortunes turned when the three children from the Luigi’s first marriage swindled Ballasario out of the family wealth.  Still, he continued to make a decent living, but was lured by the promise of America.  Carmela Ancora (Nonni’s Mother) wasn’t so sure of the far off prospects.  Why would you want to go to America she frequently lamented to her husband.

You see Carmela had good reason for wanting to remain in Italy. She also came from another family of means. Nonni’s grandmother was a business woman who bought olives and tobacco from farmers and sold to Olive Oil and Cigar manufacturers. 

Nonetheless in 1911, Ballasario embarked for Providence, where he had friends in the music business. The plan was to send for his family once he had established himself.  1914 turned out to be the year, but also marked the start of WWI.  Thus, Carmela feared German UBoat attacks, and the family was not reunited until 1925. 

Ballasario eventually became a tailor, and after Nonni graduated from college, she was accepted to Brown's all woman's school at Pembroke College. So Amanda Gisonni was not the family's first Ivy Leaguer.  (Unfortunately, the depression hit, and her family didn't have the necessary $600 to send Nonni).

Nonno's WWI Medals

As for Nonno, his family in Italy wasn’t quite as affluent as Nonni’s - his father making a living as a baker.  At 17, Nonno served in WWI and was a doctor's assistant in the trenches.  After the war, he worked a construction job, but didn’t really like all the pounding. He left that life and got a position in King Victor Emmanuel’s Royal Guard.

Nonno with his father Vito and his brothers

Outgoing as he always was, Nonno made connections, landed a job in a Genoa bank and worked as a teller and bookkeeper.  With his hard work, Nonno sent money home, and this allowed his family to purchase two plots of land - one which was an olive grove. 

So the same question could be asked. Why would he want to go to America?  Well, as fascism emerged in the mid 1920s, his brother Dominic got caught up in the movement and was arrested by Emmanuel’s government. Fortunately,  Nonno was able to use his connections with the old guard to secure his brother's release, but that was all he could take of his homeland.

Dominic with Nonno

He got a job a cargo vessel that shipped lumber around the world, and his plan was to disembark once arriving in NYC.  That journey last 2 and a half years, and when it was over, he entered NYC with only a few dollars to his name.  He had to leave the vast majority of his money behind, because the captain and company knew what it meant if you asked for a lump sum to take shore leave.  

Not much to jingle in his pocket, Nonno would get a job at the Hotel Stadler and then the Waldorf Astoria.  The Astoria had him share the surroundings with one Ettore Boiardi.  We know him as Chef Boyardee today.

As fate would have it, The Waldorf got a visit from immigration, and Nonno’s boss confirmed for the official that Angelo’s papers were at home.  The man obviously lied, and Nonno was off to Long Branch, NJ.  He worked in several vacation resorts and eventually met his long time employer, Giovanni Pramaggiore. 

In between all this, Nonno spent time in Rhode Island. He had friends there, and on one occasion, the Ancora family happened to be at the same get together.

Nonni and Nonno were attracted to each other, but other forces were in play. The Ancora family had their eyes on another young man for Nonni.  But this was the new world, and Nonni was influenced by American friends who didn’t go for the old ways. 

Nonni and Friends

Even so, the young man had made his intentions known to Nonni’s parents, and the Ancora’s were on board. Nonni held firm, though, while an ongoing dialogue with Nonno persisted.  They corresponded with letters and occasionally saw each other. 

Four years in total, Nonni and Nonno took a courageous step. The Ancora family was about to accept the young man's advances. So Nonni forced her family's hand and eloped to New York.  Nonni stayed with Giovanni’s family, and after a month, they got a marriage license at City Hall. Giovanni and Elvira Pramaggiore bore witness. 

Giovanni in Center, Nonno behind

Of course, Nonni’s parents knew what was happening, and they were not happy.  But things were mostly made right when the couple came back to Providence for the ceremony. On the other hand, the elopement was a secret long kept. Carmela Ancora told her granddaughter in the early 50's, and Ada never told a soul until now.