JUBILEE YEAR 2000
I am Robert L. Bongo, born in Stamford, CT; in 1940. Growing up in Stamford we were parishioners of Sacred Heart Church. We rarely missed a mass and were very good Catholics, following our faith; following in the footsteps of our parents and grandparents
Through the years I started missing mass and questioning whether there was really a God. In 1999, I was mostly missing mass and getting lazy about taking the time to pray.
In 2000, our friend Marie Crowell had gone to Italy on a tour with the church and told me about her experience. She made a pilgrimage to Rome for the Jubilee which occurs every 25 years.
The Jubilee began on Christmas Eve 1999 when Pope John Paul 2nd opened the Hold Door in Saint Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, Italy. The door would remain open until January 7, 2001 for pilgrims to have this wonderful experience. Many people walked or crawled on their hand s and knees through the holy door, kissing it as they prayed in their own way.
Pilgrims would obtain a special indulgence connected to forgiveness of their sins. A pilgrimage evokes the believer’s personal journey in the footsteps of the redeemer: it is an exercise of repentance for human weakness, of constant vigilance over one’s own frailty, of interior preparation for a change of heart. To obtain this indulgence in Rome, pilgrims are required to visit three churches and the Vatican, spend time in mediation, and recite the Our Father, Apostles’ Creed and the Hail Mary.
It was a very hot and humid day in September of 2000 when I decided to do the pilgrimage in Rome. I started walking to S. Pietro in Vicoli, reached the church and prayed for my family. Then I went onto S. Giovanni in Laterano. At this point I needed to stop for a cold soda and a paninni sandwich. The sweat was pouring off me but something made me continue on to find S. Maria Maggiore. I don’t know how many miles I walked across Rome, but it was a long time before I came up to Maggiore. It looked as if the church was closed and I was very disappointed and almost gave up, but was driven to complete this journey. I spoke to a Sister in Italian and she told me that this was the back of the church for I was to go around the front and enter church number three. I prayed and then had to complete the pilgrimage by going to S. Peter’s for Mass.
At S. Peter’s I completed my prayers and decided to go to confession for the first time in 10 years. As I stood in line for the confessional, I looked up at the stain glass window of the church and at that time a light beam struck the glass and directed itself onto me. I shouted within myself, on my God my Mother and Father were here with me…I could sense them. I said, there really is a God…Jesus is here to support me as well. At this point, I started to shake and cry uncontrollably as I knew this experience was real.
As you know, men normally don’t cry. We keep it within and express our feelings when we are alone. Not this time, people were looking at me and wondering what was happening. I almost fell to my knees.
Then I went to confession and mentioned my experience to the priest. I told him I was now a born again catholic and he blessed me several times.
I hope by reading this experience, one could also believe that Jesus and God are real. A feeling comes over you that God is with you and your soul is being cleansed. I felt so pure and holy. I know we are God’s children. I sensed what it might be like in heaven.
I sincerely wish that all of you experience what I have in your lifetime.
God Bless my family and friends,
Robert L. Bongo
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
My Grandmother Maria Antonia Margotta Bongo
MY GRANDMOTHER
MARIA ANTONIA MARGOTTA BONGO
By
Roberto Luigi Bongo
My grandmother, as did many grandparents live a hard and difficult life. Life in Calitri, in the province of Avellino in Southern Italy was difficult. The Bongo family lived in a two room stone house with only two windows and a wooden door. No running water or a bathroom were in the house. Of course, even today the house has no electricity. They lived with three children on 11 via Sotto Concezione under the church steps.
The family had to fetch firewood and water every day. They had to get milk and produce from the central market which got their food from the valley below Calitri. A garden was impossible because Calitri is mostly stone. They did raise and kill goats and chickens for their meat products. Their furniture consisted of handmade wooden pieces.
In 1910’ there was a huge earthquake (teramoto) in Calitri. My grandfather, Luigi Bongo already working in Minnesota, sent my grandmother money to come to the USA. After the earthquake, they were living in tents because the house was unsafe. Many Calitrani’s also came to the USA at that time.
She set sail for the USA in August of 1910 from Naples with three children, Guiseppe, Pasquale and Rosa. Her sister in laws family were also on the Hamberg-American steamer the SS Moltke in the hull of that ship. For ten long days, they crossed the ocean in the bilge of the ship. It was hot and dirty conditions in the bilge. They finally arrived in NY but then had the long journey by train to Stevenson, Minnesota.
The winters in Minnesota where long and cold. Grandpa worked in the iron ore mines and Grandma tended to the family in a log cabin with an outhouse behind the house.
What a hardship, but they endured the conditions.
When 3M decided to take their property, they moved to Stamford, Connecticut, where a small colony of Calitrani lived including relatives. The trip was long and difficult. Shortly after I was born in 1940, Grandpa died of a heart aliment and we moved in with Grandma. My dad felt obligated to care for his mother.
My father Anthony worked long hours and my mother Louise worked one half a day. So, I stayed with Grandma and learned from her about family, respect and closeness. She also taught me to count in Italian and I also learned other words from her.
My grandmother was dictated and directed by “I proverbi”. It was that way with Calitrani peasants, especially the women and they brought the wisdom of their sayings with them when they immigrated to the New World.
My Grandmother prepared the meals for us and tended to the huge garden we had. The entire back yard was a garden with tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, peas, basil and parsley to name a few. We also had fruit trees of plums and pears as well as a good grape vine in the backyard. I helped her in the garden and also stood on the picnic table to pick the grapes from the vine.
We also jarred many tomatoes and vinegar peppers with the assistance of the older aunts who came to help.
In Calitri, she prepared foods from scratch as well as now in the USA. She made pasta from scratch. I remember how she cut the linguine in perfect sizes from a flat piece of pasta. This was all done by hand. Nothing went to waste. I think she invented pasta piselli. The pasta from two nights ago was mixed with the peas from last night for tonight’s dinner.
When I went to the bakery for her, I would eat both ends off the Italian bread before I got home.
We couldn’t leave the table until we finished our meal and we all ate together. If your plate wasn’t empty, you got “the look”.
She did break the rules sometimes. No soda or candy were allowed in the house. We drink water, Grandpas red wine or milk only. On occasion, she would hide candy in the hutch and give me a piece. I was not to tell anyone that she gave me this treat. She said I was a good boy and deserved the treat. For soda, we would return bottles and get a Coke on occasion.
My grandmother died when I was still young. I remember waving goodbye to her from the parking lot of the old Stamford Hospital. Children were not allowed to go into hospitals in those days.
She had a tremendous impact on my life. How could this be? I was so young and only knew her for a short time. Why, because her principals were conveyed to me by actions and not just talk. She set the examples that I follow today.
Every Sunday was a ritual. Go to church, visit the cemetery and visit the old people.
Grandma stressed church as an important part of our life. After church, we visited Grandma and Grandpa and other relatives in the cemetery. We stopped to see the old aunts and uncles and had some home made goodies as well. Sometimes, during the week I visited them myself. They knew I respected them so I received respect in return.
I remember thinking, someday I will be old I will gain the admiration of the younger generation.
My Grandmother is my guiding angel. I know she was with me in the Vatican when I made a pilgrimage through the Vatican door and made visits to four other churches. While waiting for confession a beam of light radiated in through a window in the church and shined on me. I visualized Grandma, Grandpa with Mom and Dad peering at me and letting me know of a better life ahead. I shook and cried, knowing they were with me.
MARIA ANTONIA MARGOTTA BONGO
By
Roberto Luigi Bongo
My grandmother, as did many grandparents live a hard and difficult life. Life in Calitri, in the province of Avellino in Southern Italy was difficult. The Bongo family lived in a two room stone house with only two windows and a wooden door. No running water or a bathroom were in the house. Of course, even today the house has no electricity. They lived with three children on 11 via Sotto Concezione under the church steps.
The family had to fetch firewood and water every day. They had to get milk and produce from the central market which got their food from the valley below Calitri. A garden was impossible because Calitri is mostly stone. They did raise and kill goats and chickens for their meat products. Their furniture consisted of handmade wooden pieces.
In 1910’ there was a huge earthquake (teramoto) in Calitri. My grandfather, Luigi Bongo already working in Minnesota, sent my grandmother money to come to the USA. After the earthquake, they were living in tents because the house was unsafe. Many Calitrani’s also came to the USA at that time.
She set sail for the USA in August of 1910 from Naples with three children, Guiseppe, Pasquale and Rosa. Her sister in laws family were also on the Hamberg-American steamer the SS Moltke in the hull of that ship. For ten long days, they crossed the ocean in the bilge of the ship. It was hot and dirty conditions in the bilge. They finally arrived in NY but then had the long journey by train to Stevenson, Minnesota.
The winters in Minnesota where long and cold. Grandpa worked in the iron ore mines and Grandma tended to the family in a log cabin with an outhouse behind the house.
What a hardship, but they endured the conditions.
When 3M decided to take their property, they moved to Stamford, Connecticut, where a small colony of Calitrani lived including relatives. The trip was long and difficult. Shortly after I was born in 1940, Grandpa died of a heart aliment and we moved in with Grandma. My dad felt obligated to care for his mother.
My father Anthony worked long hours and my mother Louise worked one half a day. So, I stayed with Grandma and learned from her about family, respect and closeness. She also taught me to count in Italian and I also learned other words from her.
My grandmother was dictated and directed by “I proverbi”. It was that way with Calitrani peasants, especially the women and they brought the wisdom of their sayings with them when they immigrated to the New World.
My Grandmother prepared the meals for us and tended to the huge garden we had. The entire back yard was a garden with tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, peas, basil and parsley to name a few. We also had fruit trees of plums and pears as well as a good grape vine in the backyard. I helped her in the garden and also stood on the picnic table to pick the grapes from the vine.
We also jarred many tomatoes and vinegar peppers with the assistance of the older aunts who came to help.
In Calitri, she prepared foods from scratch as well as now in the USA. She made pasta from scratch. I remember how she cut the linguine in perfect sizes from a flat piece of pasta. This was all done by hand. Nothing went to waste. I think she invented pasta piselli. The pasta from two nights ago was mixed with the peas from last night for tonight’s dinner.
When I went to the bakery for her, I would eat both ends off the Italian bread before I got home.
We couldn’t leave the table until we finished our meal and we all ate together. If your plate wasn’t empty, you got “the look”.
She did break the rules sometimes. No soda or candy were allowed in the house. We drink water, Grandpas red wine or milk only. On occasion, she would hide candy in the hutch and give me a piece. I was not to tell anyone that she gave me this treat. She said I was a good boy and deserved the treat. For soda, we would return bottles and get a Coke on occasion.
My grandmother died when I was still young. I remember waving goodbye to her from the parking lot of the old Stamford Hospital. Children were not allowed to go into hospitals in those days.
She had a tremendous impact on my life. How could this be? I was so young and only knew her for a short time. Why, because her principals were conveyed to me by actions and not just talk. She set the examples that I follow today.
Every Sunday was a ritual. Go to church, visit the cemetery and visit the old people.
Grandma stressed church as an important part of our life. After church, we visited Grandma and Grandpa and other relatives in the cemetery. We stopped to see the old aunts and uncles and had some home made goodies as well. Sometimes, during the week I visited them myself. They knew I respected them so I received respect in return.
I remember thinking, someday I will be old I will gain the admiration of the younger generation.
My Grandmother is my guiding angel. I know she was with me in the Vatican when I made a pilgrimage through the Vatican door and made visits to four other churches. While waiting for confession a beam of light radiated in through a window in the church and shined on me. I visualized Grandma, Grandpa with Mom and Dad peering at me and letting me know of a better life ahead. I shook and cried, knowing they were with me.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
My Vacation In Calitri Italy 2000
My Vacation in Calitri - Going Home Again
Roberto Margotta Bongo
Thanks to a birthday gift from my children, I had the opportunity to visit the village of Calitri, Avellino, Italy in September 2000, the birthplace of my grandmother, Maria Antonia Margotta Bongo.
Not only was the trip to the old “hometown” nostalgic and fascinating, it was truly heartwarming to see the actual places and faces come to life that I had heard so much about. On many occasions, my grandma would tell us touching stories about family, history and struggles to survive. It was her way of expressing intense personal feelings about the home she had left behind. I looked forward to enjoying a wonderful vacation trip and discovering the memories and places that my dear Nonna once held so dear to her heart. Perhaps I could see for myself how Calitri had changed since she left.
On the first day, we found my grandmother’s house on Via Sotto Concezione 11 which she left in 1910 after experiencing a catastrophic Terremoto (earthquake). Before she left for America with children Pasquale, Guiseppe and Rosa, they lived in a make shift tent. No one has lived in the house since then. More damage occurred as a result of the earthquakes of 1930 and 1980 and that has made the existing structure even more precarious.
By chance on the first day, I happened to meet Nick DeNora and his father, Pasquale, from Buffalo who were also in Calitri on vacation at the same time I was. For dinner that night, I hooked up with the DeNoras and all of us went for pizza at the Manhattan Bar where the cook was a young mother who makes the finest pizzas in Calitri. Her children sat at our table and seemed genuinely amused by "li Merigan” devouring their mamma’s pizza The “hot” night spot in the village was Gulliver’s Bar which is located behind S. Canio’s Church. I did have a chance to personally visit Gulliver’s, Nick filled me in about this crowded place where one goes to see and be seen as well as to enjoy good spirits and interesting conversations.
After the first day, I spent the remaining time eating really good food at my cugino, Nazzereno Beltrami’s house. His wife, Angelina, could pass for the “best cook” in Calitri. Everything was homemade and fresh with a good mix of local fare including pastas, meats (lamb mostly), antipasto, salads, fruits and of course, dolce (sweets) with espresso. The hometown custom is to consume the larger meal around one o’clock in the afternoon known as “il pranzo” and a lighter meal “la cena” which is served around 8PM in the evening.
On another occasion, I tracked down the home of Michelangelo Fastiggi. Marlene Dunham of our website requested that I try to find the house where her grandfather, Michelangelo Fastiggi, was born in 1890. I did find the place and I sent her a photo so she can see “28 Vicolo San Michele” for herself.
I had the rare opportunity to see my grandmother’s church, the Chiesa S. Annunzita, which was built in the 1500’s. The altar was breathtaking as well as the beauty of the religious paintings were just as my grandmother had remembered. In the center of the church, several nuns were buried under the floor which was marked and identified.
Pasquale and I attended Mass at S. Immacolata Concezione that was built on the hill of S. Biagio after the 1694 Terremoto. We couldn’t understand why the 10AM Mass started early until we learned that the priest had to complete this Mass so he could walk as fast as possible to S. Canio (Calitri’s patron saint) to say the 11AM Mass at that Church. On this particular Sunday, Nick and I decided to climb the mountain to see the Chiesa del Calvario which is used only during Pasqua (Easter). We stopped at every Station of the Cross -- not to pray, but to catch our breath. At the very top of the hill, we reached the Chiesa and enjoyed an exceptional panorama of old Calitri, which is definitely a sight not to be missed.
Another day as I was relaxing on a bench, there appeared a funeral procession with most of the village people following behind the hearse carrying the casket. Out of respect, it seemed very natural for me to join in as they walked all the way to the cemetery (cimitero).
My great grandparents, Giuseppe Margotta and Maria DelPriore are buried in the Beltrami mausoleum at the cemetery. I noticed the Margotta gravesite didn’t have a marble headstone to mark their resting place so I had a stone engraved with their names to honor their memory.
There are no secrets within this small, medieval ancestral village as our presence was well known around town. Everyone is very friendly and they actually remembered our faces and names after just the first meeting. Whenever I went off alone to do something, my cousin knew exactly where I had been and what I had done. The walls seemed to have eyes and ears. I began to understand that people were not prying but that’s just the way it is when everyone knows who belongs to the names and families going back centuries.
Yes, the village has suffered the ravages of many earthquakes over the centuries but they overcome by following the collective experiences handed down through generations. They quickly join hands to get life back to normal as quickly as possible.
There is a deep and sincere interest in life amongst the villagers and it shows in a number of ways. I was very impressed by how they cared for each other when they met and talked to one another in the square. Families stay connected because they don’t have to drive miles to see each other. People here just walk from house to house to visit relatives and friends. Stores and markets are convenient. Quality food is available fresh off the farm or right out of the oven
Sundays are reserved for observing traditions dating back centuries…go to church, or the cemetery then dinner with relatives and friends. As a young boy growing up in an all-Italian neighborhood in Stamford; CT, I experienced the same Sunday routines but that was a long time ago I never realized my Italian heritage was such a part of me until I became an adult. We treated family members with respect so that cousins were like brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles were as close as my mother and father. We had respect for the elders, because of what they went through to get us where we are today.
Sometimes I wish I could relive the way it was but at least I can draw upon my memories.
For those who have visited the hometown on one occasion or for those who visit on a regular basis, I know you are familiar with my personal experiences. And, for those who may be thinking of going to Calitri one day or have never thought of making the trip, I hope my memories will stir your curiosity to see the hometown up close and to feel the history where our ancestors once lived and struggled.
Sample the food, walk the ancient narrow streets, visit the Churches, find the old family home or kiss long lost relatives. There are excellent hotel accommodations available where some English is spoken. Transportation arrangements can easily be made to tour around the neighboring region. You, your children or grandchildren will find the experience emotional as well as enriching. It’s definitely worth going home again.
Festa dell’Immacolata Concezione
The day is September 8 and its time for the festa in this little village. My cousin Nazzereno Beltrami, ex Sandaco (mayor) joined me in walking in the piazza. He knew so many people who respected him and greeted him and said we see your cousin from America (Il cugino da America) is what they called me.
The feast is in honor of the Madonna in conjunction with Immacolata Concezione. This church was built on a hill of St. Baggio after the earthquake of 1694. The church was opened on April 15, 1759, damaged by earthquake in 1980 and then rebuilt to its present state.
As people gather in the Piazza dela Repubblica, so did the society members, dressed in blue robes. They would start the procession with the other towns people following close behind. Aniello Basile, my cousins brother in law, Consigliere da Calitri lead the procession as the Grand Marshall. A brother in law of cousin Nazzereno, Giancarlo while marching stopped to shake my hand. Calitrani’s always remember a face, they make it their business to remember because they care about people. It seemed like all 6,000 inhabitants of the village were following behind the Madonna. Several society members were carrying the heavy statue through the streets. We all walked and joined in towards Il Centro, singing with the musicians.
The streets were lined with food stands and other stands sold music or toys. One stand had a pig roasting on display, being carved and eaten by the attendees. Music blared from the stands and the kiddie rides. At the bandstand, Massimo di Cataldo was playing pop music to the delight of all. The bandstand was set up in front of the old castle and the music continued to 1pm.
Late at night, was a wonderful display of fireworks in honor of the Madonna. They lit up the sky and excited thousands of birds who were perched in the trees. The weather was muggy during the day, but very cool at night, where one needed to wear a wind breaker or a sweater.
This is a time to honor the saint but to also spend time with friends and family. My wish is that all of you can one day visit Calitri and enjoy this feast.
.
Roberto Margotta Bongo
Thanks to a birthday gift from my children, I had the opportunity to visit the village of Calitri, Avellino, Italy in September 2000, the birthplace of my grandmother, Maria Antonia Margotta Bongo.
Not only was the trip to the old “hometown” nostalgic and fascinating, it was truly heartwarming to see the actual places and faces come to life that I had heard so much about. On many occasions, my grandma would tell us touching stories about family, history and struggles to survive. It was her way of expressing intense personal feelings about the home she had left behind. I looked forward to enjoying a wonderful vacation trip and discovering the memories and places that my dear Nonna once held so dear to her heart. Perhaps I could see for myself how Calitri had changed since she left.
On the first day, we found my grandmother’s house on Via Sotto Concezione 11 which she left in 1910 after experiencing a catastrophic Terremoto (earthquake). Before she left for America with children Pasquale, Guiseppe and Rosa, they lived in a make shift tent. No one has lived in the house since then. More damage occurred as a result of the earthquakes of 1930 and 1980 and that has made the existing structure even more precarious.
By chance on the first day, I happened to meet Nick DeNora and his father, Pasquale, from Buffalo who were also in Calitri on vacation at the same time I was. For dinner that night, I hooked up with the DeNoras and all of us went for pizza at the Manhattan Bar where the cook was a young mother who makes the finest pizzas in Calitri. Her children sat at our table and seemed genuinely amused by "li Merigan” devouring their mamma’s pizza The “hot” night spot in the village was Gulliver’s Bar which is located behind S. Canio’s Church. I did have a chance to personally visit Gulliver’s, Nick filled me in about this crowded place where one goes to see and be seen as well as to enjoy good spirits and interesting conversations.
After the first day, I spent the remaining time eating really good food at my cugino, Nazzereno Beltrami’s house. His wife, Angelina, could pass for the “best cook” in Calitri. Everything was homemade and fresh with a good mix of local fare including pastas, meats (lamb mostly), antipasto, salads, fruits and of course, dolce (sweets) with espresso. The hometown custom is to consume the larger meal around one o’clock in the afternoon known as “il pranzo” and a lighter meal “la cena” which is served around 8PM in the evening.
On another occasion, I tracked down the home of Michelangelo Fastiggi. Marlene Dunham of our website requested that I try to find the house where her grandfather, Michelangelo Fastiggi, was born in 1890. I did find the place and I sent her a photo so she can see “28 Vicolo San Michele” for herself.
I had the rare opportunity to see my grandmother’s church, the Chiesa S. Annunzita, which was built in the 1500’s. The altar was breathtaking as well as the beauty of the religious paintings were just as my grandmother had remembered. In the center of the church, several nuns were buried under the floor which was marked and identified.
Pasquale and I attended Mass at S. Immacolata Concezione that was built on the hill of S. Biagio after the 1694 Terremoto. We couldn’t understand why the 10AM Mass started early until we learned that the priest had to complete this Mass so he could walk as fast as possible to S. Canio (Calitri’s patron saint) to say the 11AM Mass at that Church. On this particular Sunday, Nick and I decided to climb the mountain to see the Chiesa del Calvario which is used only during Pasqua (Easter). We stopped at every Station of the Cross -- not to pray, but to catch our breath. At the very top of the hill, we reached the Chiesa and enjoyed an exceptional panorama of old Calitri, which is definitely a sight not to be missed.
Another day as I was relaxing on a bench, there appeared a funeral procession with most of the village people following behind the hearse carrying the casket. Out of respect, it seemed very natural for me to join in as they walked all the way to the cemetery (cimitero).
My great grandparents, Giuseppe Margotta and Maria DelPriore are buried in the Beltrami mausoleum at the cemetery. I noticed the Margotta gravesite didn’t have a marble headstone to mark their resting place so I had a stone engraved with their names to honor their memory.
There are no secrets within this small, medieval ancestral village as our presence was well known around town. Everyone is very friendly and they actually remembered our faces and names after just the first meeting. Whenever I went off alone to do something, my cousin knew exactly where I had been and what I had done. The walls seemed to have eyes and ears. I began to understand that people were not prying but that’s just the way it is when everyone knows who belongs to the names and families going back centuries.
Yes, the village has suffered the ravages of many earthquakes over the centuries but they overcome by following the collective experiences handed down through generations. They quickly join hands to get life back to normal as quickly as possible.
There is a deep and sincere interest in life amongst the villagers and it shows in a number of ways. I was very impressed by how they cared for each other when they met and talked to one another in the square. Families stay connected because they don’t have to drive miles to see each other. People here just walk from house to house to visit relatives and friends. Stores and markets are convenient. Quality food is available fresh off the farm or right out of the oven
Sundays are reserved for observing traditions dating back centuries…go to church, or the cemetery then dinner with relatives and friends. As a young boy growing up in an all-Italian neighborhood in Stamford; CT, I experienced the same Sunday routines but that was a long time ago I never realized my Italian heritage was such a part of me until I became an adult. We treated family members with respect so that cousins were like brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles were as close as my mother and father. We had respect for the elders, because of what they went through to get us where we are today.
Sometimes I wish I could relive the way it was but at least I can draw upon my memories.
For those who have visited the hometown on one occasion or for those who visit on a regular basis, I know you are familiar with my personal experiences. And, for those who may be thinking of going to Calitri one day or have never thought of making the trip, I hope my memories will stir your curiosity to see the hometown up close and to feel the history where our ancestors once lived and struggled.
Sample the food, walk the ancient narrow streets, visit the Churches, find the old family home or kiss long lost relatives. There are excellent hotel accommodations available where some English is spoken. Transportation arrangements can easily be made to tour around the neighboring region. You, your children or grandchildren will find the experience emotional as well as enriching. It’s definitely worth going home again.
Festa dell’Immacolata Concezione
The day is September 8 and its time for the festa in this little village. My cousin Nazzereno Beltrami, ex Sandaco (mayor) joined me in walking in the piazza. He knew so many people who respected him and greeted him and said we see your cousin from America (Il cugino da America) is what they called me.
The feast is in honor of the Madonna in conjunction with Immacolata Concezione. This church was built on a hill of St. Baggio after the earthquake of 1694. The church was opened on April 15, 1759, damaged by earthquake in 1980 and then rebuilt to its present state.
As people gather in the Piazza dela Repubblica, so did the society members, dressed in blue robes. They would start the procession with the other towns people following close behind. Aniello Basile, my cousins brother in law, Consigliere da Calitri lead the procession as the Grand Marshall. A brother in law of cousin Nazzereno, Giancarlo while marching stopped to shake my hand. Calitrani’s always remember a face, they make it their business to remember because they care about people. It seemed like all 6,000 inhabitants of the village were following behind the Madonna. Several society members were carrying the heavy statue through the streets. We all walked and joined in towards Il Centro, singing with the musicians.
The streets were lined with food stands and other stands sold music or toys. One stand had a pig roasting on display, being carved and eaten by the attendees. Music blared from the stands and the kiddie rides. At the bandstand, Massimo di Cataldo was playing pop music to the delight of all. The bandstand was set up in front of the old castle and the music continued to 1pm.
Late at night, was a wonderful display of fireworks in honor of the Madonna. They lit up the sky and excited thousands of birds who were perched in the trees. The weather was muggy during the day, but very cool at night, where one needed to wear a wind breaker or a sweater.
This is a time to honor the saint but to also spend time with friends and family. My wish is that all of you can one day visit Calitri and enjoy this feast.
.
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