My father was born in 1919; the year after WWI ended. He was the third child of six, three boys and three girls. Times were hard in Italy after the Great War and for the family got even harder, when my grandfather Giuseppe, died in a tragic accident. My grandmother Celeste was left with six children to care for. Domenico, the eldest son, left home to learn carpentry. Maria got married and Antonia went into service for a local noble family. And for my father Vincenzo, and his younger sister Carmela, awaited the same fate. For the occasion of going into service, my grandmother had new boots made for Vincenzo and Carmela. Carmela was younger than my father and he felt the need to protect her. She looked up to her older brother and continued to do so all her life.

My father was young but wise, a man, their new master, picked the two children up from their home with a horse and cart. They were sad to leave their mother and younger sibling Angelo, although young, they understood that their mother was struggling to feed the family.

The boots were very important to my father and his sister; they were aware of how much they had cost his mother and kept a closer look on them.

The man hung the brand-new boots with the horses harnesses, by the stable door. The two children were tired and hungry, for their only meal of the day they were fed a slice of bread and cheese, and were told to sleep in the stable, above the horses.

My father, who had been promised good food and a bed, decided there and then to leave. He had memorised the way they had got there. After retrieving the new boots - it wasn’t easy for him to reach them: he was too small - he awoke his sister, and they left the house that very night. It took three days and two nights to find the way home. My grandmother was very happy to have her children back and promised that they would never go away again. And they never did. To feed her children, my grandmother Celeste sold some of the family land, my father wasn’t very happy about it because his uncles bought the land for very little money. Lucky for them, they had money and his mother had none, and didn’t have a husband to bring food on the table. My grandmother understood why my father was angry. Sadly, he didn’t understand that for my grandmother, food on the table was more important than owning land.

My father never said that he went to school to me. He could read and write and was very interested in my education, I had to read to him, and he taught me mathematics. He liked poetry; Giovanni Pascoli was his favourite Italian writer. He was very knowledgeable about Greek and Roman Mythology and the Bible. I learned the Bible without knowing that the stories were religious. My favourite story was about Benjamin, the thought that he wasn’t ever going to see his father again made me sad.

Domenico, my father’s grandfather. was the only son of Angelo. From the will and testament of Benedetta, wife of Domenico, I have learned that the family were, ‘Contandini Benestanti’, Comfortable landowners. Benedetta and Domenico had three sons: Antonio, Giuseppe and Vincenzo. Vincenzo was my father’s grandfather. The land was inherited from Angelo Iafano and his wife. Domenico, son of Angelo died in 1917, two years before my father was born. Did he die in the first World War?

Angelo, my great, great, grandfather, arrived in the south of Lazio, around the time Italy was undergoing political unrest. In 1870 a United Italy was proclaimed in Rome. (Il Risorgimento: 1848- 1870)

There could have been more than one reason why Angelo chose to live in the area: was he a political activist escaping from the authorities? Was he seeking sanctuary on religious grounds?

My grandmother Celeste was Jewish, it could mean that the Iafano family was also Jewish. I will never know where Angelo came from and why he settled in Porchio, a small hamlet between the Pontifical State and the Kingdom of The Two Sicily. It saddens me to think that, for whatever reason, Angelo left his family.

I was told by my father, and our neighbours that he arrived in the area looking for work. A local farmer gave him food and lodgings in exchange for help on the farm. Before long, men were employed to work on the railway and Angelo, encouraged by the farmer, went along with the other local men to seek paid work on the construction of the railway. That evening, when Angelo returned home, the farmer learned that he could read and write and that he was a skilled mathematician: he had been employed as a supervisor. The farmer, aware of the importance of education, asked Angelo to teach his children instead of helping on the farm. When the work on the railway came to an end, Angelo became the village teacher and married a local woman. His wife owned land.

I don’t know how old Angelo was when he got married, I have been told that he and his wife had only a son, Domenico. I believe that he had a daughter too, her name was Vincenza. In the will and testament of Benedetta Canale, widow of Domenico, states that Domenico owned land that bordered with property owned by Vincenza. This statement leads me to believe that Domenico and Vincenza were siblings.

I have not been able to find out everything I longed to know because the Civic Hall, along with the records, was destroyed in WWII.

In Italy women don’t take their husband’s name when they marry, neither do they pass on their Surname to the children and that is why women are not easy to trace like men. Another problem I came across is that Christian names are repeated; I believe that it was a regional tradition to name grandchildren after the grandparents and not an Italian tradition, I am not sure.

I will never know how my father knew the stories he recounted; primarily he recounted them to entertain adults. When children were present, he substituted the unsuitable words with

Innuendo. My father’s stories were very intricate and rich in details and mystery. And that leads me to believe that he must have learned them from books. His grandfather Domenico died two years before my father was born and his wife was illiterate. In her will and testament says that she can’t sign the testament because she is analphabetic.

Not much more is known about my grandfather Giuseppe. Could he have tutored his own children? Women were not encouraged to read and write at the time; however, my aunties could read and write. I know that some stories were created by my father. In Winter, my grandmother’s house was always full of friends and family who came to listen to his stories. For the younger generation it isn't easy to imagine how life was once upon a time. I remember those long-gone days, before television, and that is why I appreciate all my ancestors, especially the ones I never met. They were all extraordinary and adventurous and clever individuals.

Did my great, great, Grandfather Angelo write the stories my father recounted by the fire? Who educated my father? Did he create all the stories he recounted? Questions without answers make my ancestors mysterious and very special to me. I love them all.

Some historic facts that support what I have learned about my ancestors.

The old railway line, Naples - Caserta – Capua, was begun by the Bourbon Kings in 1843.

In 1857 the Pontifical Government constructed the railway that linked Rome to cities in the Pontifical State. Later, Garibaldi, master of the South, continued to build the railway.

In 1863 the Pontifical Government built the line from Frosinone to Capua. This is the railway where Angelo worked. This railway links Rome to Naples and is less than a kilometre from where Angelo built his house.