The Sicilian Connection

Villarosa, Provinica di Enna, Sicilia was the birthplace of my paternal grandfather, Salvatore "Samuel" La Marca. Located near the center of the island of Sicily, it currently has a population of approximately 5,000 inhabitants. Nested in a region of rolling grass covered hills, it is just a short distance from the provincial capitol of the region, Enna. Included on this page is a brief narrative of my visit to this wonderful little town and a few links to other sites important to my family's history.

During the summer of 1995, I had a wonderful opportunity to attend an international symposium on Orff Schulwerk (an approach to teaching music to children developed by the German composer, Carl Orff) in Salzburg, Austria. While I had traveled to Europe on two previous occasions, I had always gone with a group. This time, however, I was traveling alone and I had vowed that, should I ever have such an opportunity, I would fulfill a lifelong dream and visit the ancestral homeland of my paternal grandfather -- Sicily.

My visit to Salzburg was, to say the very least, a fabulous experience -- over 500 teachers from fifty countries were in attendance. I was able to attend sessions with music educators from around the globe and made many new friends. Even so, I could hardly wait to begin the second part of my journey. On July 3rd I left Salzburg, by train, for the little town of Ordezo, Italy, located just north of Venice, to visit a winery by the name of La Marca (my surname). Upon my arrival in Treviso, I boarded a bus for the 30 minute trip to Ordezo. My complete lack of knowledge of Italian (oh, how I would love to speak the language) only made the trip a little more exciting! When I arrived in town, late in the afternoon, I hadn't a clue as to where I was going to spend the night. Fortunately, I happened to find a travel agency just moments (literally) before the skies opened up and a terrific thunder storm began. After making several phone calls, the agency was able to find a small, family run, bed and breakfast for me to spend the night. While language remained a problem, the hospitality extended to me was, without question, first class! The next day, I was able to take a personal tour of the winery only to learn that it was not a family operated business rather, it had been named after the region. Just the same, I had a tremendous time before boarding the train for Rome.

The trip through the Italian countryside was beautiful - it reminded me of many parts of California, lots of rolling hills and a variety of crops that included corn and miles upon miles of sunflowers. As soon as I arrived at the Roma Termini, one of the largest train depots in Europe, I made arrangements to catch the next train to Palermo, Sicilia (pronounced Si-CHEE-lia). I was able to obtain an overnight, first class compartment for the fourteen hour trip. Perhaps the most memorable portion of the journey was that I was able to share the compartment with a young Sicilian man, Mario, who was taking some time off from his duties as a carabiniere (policeman), in fulfillment of the mandatory military service required of Italians, to visit his fianc�e in Sicily. While Mario's English was no better than my Italian, we had a terrific time just trying to communicate. We tried to chat about our jobs, our mutual interest in computers, and life in general. At one point we attempted to discuss proverbs and idiomatic expressions from our native lands. Although I don't remember the context in which it was discussed, I did learn one Italian proverb that states, "Don't open your umbrella unless it's raining!" Our conversations lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. By the time we finally called it a night, we still hadn't crossed the Strait of Messina.

Early the next morning, when I woke up, I looked out the window and saw that we were traveling along the coast. I asked Mario when we were going to arrive in Sicily. To my great surprise he informed me that we were already there. I had managed to sleep through the ferry that carried the train across the strait. Shortly thereafter, the train passed through the resort town of Cefalu' (pronounced Chef-a-lou) along the northern coast of the island. We arrived in Palermo around 8:00 a.m. and, not having anything available to drink (or eat) on the train I was very eager to quench my thirst. Even though Mario was met by his fianc�e, he invited me to get something to drink at restaurant located in the train station. I ordered the largest coke I could find and my new friends had a very small cup of the strong espresso that is so common in Italy. Following our "breakfast," Mario took me to the bus station, located across from the street, and help me to find the best bus to my final destination of Villarosa. He suggested that the desirable plan would be to take a bus to Caltanissetta then transfer to another bus that would take me to Villarosa.

As with everything I had experienced since leaving Rome, no one spoke English so communication was, to say the least, rather difficult. (I had lived in Mexico City, many years ago, and had learned a fair amount of Spanish. Interestingly, much of my Spanish began to return but seemed to be more confusing to the Sicilians than English. Somehow, I managed to make the one hour trip to Caltanissetta without any difficulty. Obtaining information on the transfer to Villarosa proved to be a different matter. When I was finally able to communicate to the woman at the ticket counter that I wanted to go to Villarosa, I learned that there would be a wait of a couple of hours before the next bus. To make matters worse, it was quite hot and I was beginning to feel just a little weary. I hauled my luggage across the street to a small ice cream shop/bakery and obtained something to drink. Most of my time was spent sitting under a tree in a small park located next to the bus station. As the busses were not marked, I had to watch carefully for the one that might be mine. Again, fate was on my side and I successfully located to correct bus. The 30 minute trip to Villarosa was a quiet one; I enjoyed looking at the scenery. Again, it looked very much like California.

I arrived at Villarosa, a tiny town of five thousand inhabitants that is located near the center of the island, around 2:00 in the afternoon. The sun was still blazing hot and the humidity was very high. Having spent most of the previous 24 hours traveling, I was, to say the least, rather exhausted. Information obtained from the Italian Consulate in Los Angeles indicated that there was just one hotel in this tiny village. As I got off the bus I asked (or tried to ask) the bus driver where that hotel might be. He said something about it being located near a piazza and pointed in a manner that I interpreted as meaning, "It's somewhere over there - I think?!" I got off the bus with my luggage and began to wander aimlessly around the town. I did manage to find a couple of piazzas but found nothing that even remotely resembled a hotel. To make matters worse, I had managed to arrive during the middle of the siesta (which is very strictly observed in this tiny village) and I began to feel as if I might have landed in the twilight zone -- a land without hotels or people. I did manage to find one little caf� (with life) and, with a great deal of effort, was once again able to ascertain that the hotel was indeed "that away." With renewed vigor, I set off in the appropriate direction. I was a lost American in a foreign land! What fun!

Based upon the wealth of information I now had (an address from the consulate and two "that aways"), I knew I must be close. Needless to say, however, the hotel was not be found -- ugh! Having reached the end of town, I turned back. Fortunately, I came upon an elderly gentleman who happened to be standing on a balcony overlooking the street. In desperation, I waved at him and asked, "hotel?" He acknowledged me, said something in Siciliano (which I had already been told, on several occasions, was different than Italiano) and once again pointed "that away." Not knowing what else to do, I did my best to look utterly confused. When he muttered something that sounded like, "uno momento," I knew I had been rescued! Seconds later he came out of his apartment building and began leading me back up the street. Not surprisingly, the "hotel" was an unmarked building located just a few doors away! He graciously entered the building, shouted something up the stairway (located just inside of the door) and we waited for someone to come down and greet us. The proprietor, a very congenial woman, immediately understood that I was looking for the "hotel" and asked for my passport (required by Italian law of all foreigners seeking lodging.) It was a great relief to have finally found a place to stay and I was really looking forward to a quick shower and a nap.

The nap, however, was simply not to be for when the woman glanced at my passport, she threw up her arms and gleefully shouted, "Ah, La Marca!!!," with a great big smile. She quickly showed me to my room and nearly dragged me back out onto the street! It was obvious that she knew of some La Marcas in town and was taking me there to meet them -- WOW! Fortunately, I had been able to hang onto my passport as well as a copy of my grandfather's Sicilian birth certificate and a pedigree chart. (Just in case!)

You can't imagine the excitement I felt as I was lead to a home, just one block from the "hotel," and introduced to an elderly widow by the name of Gaetana La Marca! Gaetana was an extraordinarily kind woman who welcomed me into her home as if she had known me all of her life. Based upon information that my documents contained and the information she was able to provide, we were able to establish (with a reasonable level of certainty) that we were indeed related through marriage. It appears as if my great grandfather, Raimondo La Marca, and her father-in-law, Epifanio La Marca, were brothers. Our conversations revealed that all of the La Marcas from Villarosa, with the exception of Epifanio, emigrated from Sicily around the turn of the century. Epifanio was not permitted to leave due to a physical disfiguration (Parkinson's disease?) that made him unsuitable for emigration. As a result, all of his descendants remained in Sicily.

On a more personal note, I shall always remember Gaetana's warm hospitality that demanded that I was to be extremely well feed. She treated me to many homemade dishes that included a variety of Sicilian specialties such as steak, beef stew, pasta with peas, and a very large plate of small fish. I haven't a clue as to what kind of fish these were but I was required to eat the entire plate! The one word I will ALWAYS remember about my visit is mangi or "eat!" Each meal was also accompanied by a potent Sicilian red wine and my glass was NEVER left dry! During my visit to Villarosa, she very graciously escorted me on a personal tour of the town and pointed out important landmarks that included the town's Chiesa Madre (Mother Church), the Chiesa Parrocchia (Parish Church), the Municipio (City Hall), and her own home. She lived in a three story building that is believed to have been originally owned by her husband's grandfather (my GG grandfather), Salvatore La Marca. The iron work above the front door contained the initials "LE" which stood for the name of her father-in-law, Epifanio La Marca. During one meal with Gaetana, I had the opportunity to visit with her brother (believed to be in his 80's). On several occasions, I was able to sit outside her home and visit with several of her neighbors while she "translated." (She did not speak a word of English but seemed to "understand" my attempts at communication better than the others.)

I will always remember the enormous pride Gaetana displayed one afternoon upon learning that her grandson, Andrea, had obtained a job (or an apprenticeship) as a mechanic in the provincial capital of Villarosa - Enna. During out "conversations," Gaetana stated that La Marcas had emigrated all over the world. Some of these places included: Boston, MA; Buffalo, NY; Chicago, IL; Toronto, Canada; and Brazil.

I was eventually introduced to other members of the family during my four days in Villarosa. These included Gaetana's daughter Emilia (La Marca) Sammartino and son-in-law Giuseppe Sammartino. Giuseppe is employed as painter. He has a beautiful condominium overlooking Villarosa and had also acquired a piece of land, just outside of town, that has a magnificent view of the valley between Villarosa and Enna (which is located on the top of a mountain, just to the east of Villarosa). In addition to planting several varieties of fruits and vegetables -- (tomatoes, peppers, corn, and fico di India ( prickly pear) -- he had a number of fig and olive trees. With his sons, he was building a small one-room cottage/kitchen that contained everything needed for a day (or evening) in la campagna. During my visit to this quiet location, I was treated to a fabulous meal of real pizza Siciliano that included lots of garlic and onion. (I was asked if I "liked" onion and garlic first!) Gelato con whiskey (chocolate ice cream covered with gin) was served as an appetizer! We had a terrific time sitting outdoors in the gentle breeze (which felt very good to me but made everyone else cold), watching the advancing shadows as the sunset over Sicily. Other than our chatter, the only other noise to be heard was that of a dog barking in a neighbor's yard and the regular sound (spaced about five minutes apart) of a small explosive in the distance. Giuseppe explained that this was being generated by a neighbor who was using some kind of device to dislodge olives from the trees in his small orchard.

On another occasion, Giuseppe took time away from his busy day to take me on a tour of other local landmarks -- these included a visit to an abandoned convent and the local cemetery where I was shown the graves of his father-in-law, Salvatore La Marca, and also that of Epifanio La Marca.

I had several terrific opportunities to visit with Emilia's and Giuseppe's two sons, Salvatore and Andrea. Salvatore, age 25 (approx.), like his father, was employed as a painter. Even with the tremendous language barriers, I sensed that Salvatore had a terrific sense of humor -- I certainly wanted to be able to converse with him in greater detail. Much to the chagrin of his wife, we had a great time trying to describe and compare the "scenery" of the Sicilian coastal resort of Cefalu' with that of Malibu, California!

Andrea (age 22?) was also employed as a painter. During my visit, Andrea received notice that he had obtained an offer of employment (as an apprentice?) to work as a mechanic in Enna. Andrea seemed to be an outgoing young man who, in addition to his terrific sense of humor, was also quite handy. During one of my visits with his grandmother, Gaetana, he was busy installing (or replacing) a florescent light in her kitchen -- much to her delight!

So much more happened during my brief visit to Villarosa that I am simply unable to account for all of it here. I will always remember the sadness I felt as I waited for the train to take me to Rome wondering if I will ever have an opportunity to visit with these wonderful people again. While this trip was certainly an adventure (in the truest sense of the word), I hope I will be able visit Villarosa again!

These pages authored and maintained by Jeff La Marca.
� 1996-2001 All rights reserved.
Page established: 11/30/96
Last revised: 09/21/2002 11:01:28 AM

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