Connecting with My Italian Roots
By Jacque Genovese
As a young girl, I remember most Sundays were reserved for spending time with my Italian grandfather which always included his delicious, homemade pasta sauce with spaghetti. Most likely, these dinners and brief conversations with him (he was a quiet man who spoke very broken English) sparked my love for all things Italian. This fall, my daughter, Kristine, and I traveled to Italy to connect with our Italian relatives, whom we had never met, and learn more about the country that my grandfather left behind at a very young age.
Giovanni Luigi Genovese arrived alone in the U.S. on June 14, 1905, at only 15 years old. Born in Tiriolo, a tiny mountain community in Calabria, southern Italy, he had been sponsored by a family in Des Moines, Iowa, where he stayed, became a well-respected tailor, married, and had six children—my father fifth in the order. Giovanni died when I was just 14 years old, too young to hear his full story.
Traveling to Italy was a journey that had been mapped out in my head for years but I never knew if it would actually happen. Fast forward to September when my daughter and I flew to Milan to launch our history-seeking trek, going first south to Naples, Catanzaro, Tiriolo, then back north to Rome and Florence, finally returning to Milan.
Italy is a beautiful country steeped in traditions, ancient history, and friendly people – everyone we met was so welcoming and seemed destined to play a role in our journey.
From ancient ruins to top fashion designer boutiques, from the bluest coastal waters to countryside dotted with olive and lemon groves, and sprinkled with restaurants featuring exceptional food and wine. For most, that would be a trip in and of itself, right? However, we still had to learn more about the Genovese family and why it was so connected to us.
Catanzaro was first on our journey to meet family. We knew that my grandfather had a much younger half-brother who had raised a family here—his son, Egidio, would have been my father’s first cousin, so I was looking to find my second cousins – Sabina, Simona, and Stefano. Sabina was the only one that still lived in Cantanzaro. Kristine had occasionally emailed and texted with Sabina over the past 10 years, but because she doesn’t speak English, they relied on translation apps. And, so did we when we met her.
Our first encounter found us lost amid Catanzaro’s winding streets. Like something scripted right out of a movie, upon finding us, Sabina ran towards Kristine, arms stretched wide and each screaming loving words as they embraced. As I videotaped it, I silently thanked my grandfather for bringing us together. We spent the next few days getting to know as much as we could about her family and where our grandfather had grown up. It was bittersweet to say goodbye but we vowed to do a better job of staying in touch, and that we would learn to speak more than just a few words of Italian.
One of my goals during this part of the trip was to secure a copy of my grandfather’s birth certificate. I would need it to apply for dual citizenship. Before our trip, Kristine had emailed the Commune di Tiriolo office of records but they found no record of him. We opted to take the white-knuckle drive up the mountainside to Tiriolo to search in person. At the top, the picturesque village of Tiriolo welcomed us.
When we entered the city hall office, we explained that we had been given the wrong birth year and they immediately grabbed a huge registry book (like something from the middle ages) and started searching for his name. They came across the Genovese family but not Giovanni Luigi. The birth record listed his name as Luigi Giovanni Genovese! Apparently, when he came through Ellis Island, they transposed the names, and he was probably too young and scared to correct anyone. I was shocked because I had been told growing up that I was named after my grandfather’s initials.
The last leg of our family quest was in Rome, where Stefano and Simona both live, cousins with whom we had no prior contact. Our Airbnb host also owned a restaurant in Rome and while giving us a pasta-making class, he asked about our trip and we explained the family tree adventure. He said he only knew one Genovese in Rome and that he lived across the street from his restaurant, and frequented there.As we talked more, we discovered that it was, in fact, our cousin, Stefano! What are the odds?
We reached out to Stefano and he immediately agreed to meet us for dinner that night. So we had the pleasure of meeting Stefano and his wife, Alessandra, and learning everything about them, which included a private tour of some of Rome’s attractions after dinner. It was more than any of us could have expected!
I could go on and on about all of the coincidences throughout our trip, but the most important aspect was learning why we felt so connected to this country and our family having just met them all for the first time. It’s like our souls had come home and that Luigi Giovanni was there watching over us the entire time. A magical trip that we will never forget!