Antonio and Maria

In large part my voyage to Sicily was an effort to feel connected to the ancestral home of my maternal grandparents.

My grandfather, AntonioMarchese, left Alcamo, Sicily with his older brother as a young man in his teens in the early 1900's. They made the journey as part of a mass exodus hoping for a life of opportunity. My grandmother, Maria, made the journey from Sciacca alone, as a young girl. Her mother wasn't able to care for her so she was sent to live with family in Brooklyn, working for her keep. Her story was rife with hardship.

In a time of arranged marriages, their union was instigated by true affection.

They left behind all that they knew and gathered in crowded New York communites with other immigrants who shared their language and customs.

I often wondered how they could leave all the beauty of Sicily behind. I think it simply comes down to the fact that you can't eat beauty when times are hard.



a street in Sciacca