William Vicini visited Milan’s Duomo in 1976, as he launched his ancestral journey. His daughter, Carol, would follow in his footsteps 48 years later. 

By Carol Vicini, La Nostra Voce

On August 9, 2023, my son, Mike Palmer, and I boarded a flight from Pittsburgh, Penn. to Milan, Italy. We were on a journey to follow the footsteps of my late father, William Albino Vicini, who, in turn, made a similar trip to Italy in 1976 to visit our relatives and pay respects to his father, Albino Vicini, in Trefiumi, Italy.

In Milan, we gazed upon the Duomo, La Scala Theatre and da Vinci’s “Last Supper” — as my father once had.

Then it was 120 kilometers south to Parma, where we soaked in the Palazzo della Pilotta, an awe-inspiring museum filled with world-renowned Italian artwork. We followed our palates to a Parmigiano Reggiano factory and sampled the famous cheese with their to-die-for Prosciutto di Parma.

With the sights and tastes aside, we were ready to visit our famiglia and pay respects to my nonno.

This article first appeared in the February 2024 edition of ISDA’s monthly Italian American newspaper, La Nostra Voce. Subscribe here

My grandfather, Albino Vicini, was born in Monchio, Italy, in 1892 and arrived to Ellis Island in 1913 aboard a lumbering ocean liner named La Touraine; he was just 21 years old. He met my nonna, Ida Rose Castagnari, four years later. They settled in Ramsey, Penn., and had three children: Helen, William and Arthur. Suddenly, Albino became ill and returned to Italy for surgery. He had lived in the United States for 13 years, and just like that, he was sailing home to the village of Trefiumi.

In his travels back to Italy, he wrote several love letters to my grandmother, Ida:

Alla mia cara moglie,

Dall’alto mare scrivo questa lettera per confortare te, Ida, così come i nostri piccoli.  Spero che Vidio (figlio) stia bene. Sono molto stanco per il viaggio, che è un lungo viaggio per qualcuno che non sta molto bene, ma per ora, speriamo che questi pochi giorni passino in fretta perché è molto brutto. Ho sofferto molto il caldo prima di lasciare New York. Ora sono nella zona notte della barca di terza classe che è come essere dentro un forno. Nell’ormeggio della barca, non si dorme quando arriva la notte E prendiamo le coperte e andiamo sul ponte della barca dove tutti dormono. Ho chiesto il prezzo differenza per andare in seconda classe ma erano troppi soldi. Volevano altri $42,50, così sono diventato coraggioso perché mi sono detto che sono stato qui prima e il costo aggiuntivo era troppo per me. Sono a corto di soldi Ida perché le cose sono molto costose. Siamo in questo con la guida di Dio. Con Per quanto riguarda la barca, è molto pulita. Nella sala da pranzo c’è tutto quello che si vuole mangiare. I camerieri E le donne che servono le tavole non portano nulla in tavola senza che noi lo chiediamo. Seduti nella sala da pranzo camere sembra di essere in Paradiso. Tutto andrebbe bene tranne che per le sistemazioni per dormire che sono Molto male.  Per ora, ti lascio, cara moglie, mandandoti un mondo di baci e a William (figlio) e Pia (figlia) e al mio caro Vidio (figlio) dagli un bacio. Per quanto mi riguarda, sottolineo la cura dei bambini; tienili stretti per me. Per te, amore mio, non c’è bisogno di dirti quanto significhi per me. Un saluto a Cecchi e alle loro famiglie.

Tuo marito,

Albino

Sadly, Albino would pass away shortly after arriving to his village.

As we made our journey to Trefiumi, our cousin, Alessio Vicini, picked us up at our hotel in Corniglio and we were first driven atop a mountain to Trefiumi Cemetery. It was emotional for me as I would finally meet my grandfather for the first time at his resting place. We looked on in amazement at how many Vicini’s lay in the family grave. I couldn’t help but touch the stones as I read the names: Pia, Giovanni, Caterina, Mario, Anna, Rita, Massimo, Albina, Quirno, Iolan, Rosa, Adele, Elide, Pierno, Ermino, Cisio and so many others. Alessio called us over to the family headstone, which appeared to be the oldest and thinnest. We touched the weathered but enduring stone and felt my grandfather’s love. We believe he knew we were there and why we made this journey high in the beautiful mountains of Italy.

We descended into town to meet my Italian relatives for the first time; many ISDA members reading this text know just how powerful it was. To look into their eyes and feel the connection with our blood relatives was incredible. I met our 94-year-old cousin, Sergio Vicini, and his family. We were welcomed into their home and sat at the kitchen table to catch up on decades of lost time, as my father once did. To hear my cousin Sergio say in English, “Your father was a good man,” brought both chills and tears.

Sergio cried with me. We sat at the kitchen table, communicated the best we could and enjoyed a dessert made by Sergio’s wife, Marisa, with coffee and some local wine. Our youngest cousin, Maria Vicini, was the most proficient at English and translating. At the table, we exchanged gifts brought from the United States including a “terrible towel” for Alessio. I truly felt the presence of my father as we sat at the table and enjoyed one another’s company.

After dining on a delicious, traditional meal, we finally had to say our goodbyes. It was a joyful farewell and, hopefully, we will return.

To make this journey with my son across the ocean and through the mountains of Italy, to visit our family roots, will forever remain in my heart.

For those who never made such an ancestral journey, I have but one kernel of wisdom: follow the stars back to Italy, you won’t regret it.