Tag: family

Come Back to Pontelandolfo

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Finding My Family - Genealogy

Some days, disappointment and bewilderment emanate from the cars circling our iconic fountain and exiting town. It happens every year. Visitors to Pontelandolfo wanting to learn more about their ancestors hop back into cars having not seen, not heard or learned anything. COME BACK! DON’T GIVE UP!

As often happens, looking for help and information about his family, a Pontelandolfese from Connecticut texted me via Facebook. He said that the folks at Bar Elimar suggested he contact me. Sadly, I don’t have – nor will I ever – have notifications set up for Facebook Messenger. I saw the text later in the day. He was already gone. I hope he comes back.

I asked Giuditta and Marilina at Elimar Food about the researcher. They went off on a rant about people being screwed by false or terrible Pontelandolfo websites, our towns lack of tourism information and how sad it is that folks come for a few hours expecting to learn something and leave feeling it had been a waste of time. Apparently, this fellow came via a tour operator who didn’t do their research.

False websites? Did I hear that right? Could that be true? Cripes – artificial intelligence ain’t so intelligent.

I typed visit pontelandolfo in my Safari search bar and AI promptly spit out a blurb that makes our magical village sound – gulp- magical. Too bad it doesn’t tell you all you need to know. Though I must admit, I felt super proud to see this blog posted on the sidebar!

One can always explore the medieval center – that’s true and I think the tag line is one of mine. That means walk and look because there is nothing there to visit. The view over the valley, however, is spectacular. The historic tower is privately owned and not open to day-trippers. The beautiful Chiesa di San Salvatore is only open for mass on Sunday. You can always visit the small – not listed – historic chapel, San Rocco. Further down, AI lists dining at Landulphi – we loved this pub – loved being the appropriate word. It has been closed for years. The owner now has an upscale sushi restaurant on the piazza – that we adore – Tawā. I can’t complain about the urban trekking line. Quest for the Crests is my work and available. My point is, a point we all know – you can’t believe everything you read! You have to dig a little deeper.

Unearthed were other websites alleging they were Visit Pontelandolfo and steered readers to hotels, restaurants and events in other bigger towns. Has AI made it more difficult to unearth the truth????

Even the Rick Steves Community Forum offered misinformation about visiting Pontelandolfo. The Sorrento Review was better but hadn’t researched whether or not places were still or had ever been opened.

During an earlier administration, Visit Pontelandolfo was set up in two languages. It even had shared local recipes. A quick hop there showed it isn’t updated often. The FaceBook page is a wee bit better. (That reminds me I need to update the page Nonna’s Mulberry Tree has on visiting the village. I promise links are to real businesses.)

The town’s official website doesn’t really provide great information for visitors and it isn’t available in multiple languages. I typed “turismo” in the search bar and got bupkiss. Vivere Il Comune prompt yielded the monuments, the closed tower and churches. Wait – there is a way to get it in English. I tried the website again from google and the google translator asked if I wanted it in English.

That said, the official website is not all a waste of time. If you are searching your roots, YOU SHOULD USE THE WEBSITE AND MAKE AN APPOINTMENT! Start with “contatta il comune – prenota appuntamento.” Make an appointment with the Ufficio Anagrafe e Stato Civile.

The ancient books uncover family secrets.

Dearest Pontelandolfese of the world, please plan on spending more than an afternoon in ancestors village. Spend three or four days. Stay at an agriturismo, like Borgo Cerquelle, and get a sense of the food, history and culture of our community. Go to mass at San Salvatore. I spent some time searching for the parish website – even asking folks. All I found was a facebook link, which does have a phone number. Use WhatsApp or Facebook Messenger and call. The next day, meet with the Ufficio Anagrafe or the church archivist and search the ancient records for your past.

Learn more about Pontelandolfo by checking out the Pontelandolfo News. It offers a wealth of background and history of the paese. Gulp, I can’t believe I am saying this but put Pontelandolfo in the YouTube search line and tons of stuff comes up. Enjoy watching a game of Ruzzola – cheese rolling.

Pontelandolfese are a friendly bunch, if you discover something interesting don’t be afraid to e-mail the place or person. There are so many translator apps it is easy peasy to write something and get it translated. Take the time before you buy the plane ticket and you will enjoy our village even more.

The best advice I ever heard was from genealogist Rich Venezia of Rich Roots Genealogy. If you want to know about your ancestral home, search the attic, talk to your aunts and uncles. Before you drive into Pizza Roma, talk to the elders in your family and find out all you can about those adventurers who left Pontelandolfo looking for a different life. Then, if you have someone in your family who has an Ancestry DNA subscription, ask them to send you the links to those cousins 4X removed no one ever contacts. Contact them. Gather more data. Check out the free Family Search and come to Pontelandolfo with as much background on your family as you can. Trust me. It is worth it.

Fifty-six years ago, I visited Pontelandolfo for the first time. Stared at shuttered buildings. Walked around for an hour. Got back in the car with my cousins and left town disappointed. Thirty one years ago, I found family in Pontelandolfo that no one on our side of the Atlantic knew existed. It started with the basest of family trees scratched in a notebook. We too entered Piazza Roma not knowing what to do, where to look or really who we were. With feeble Italian, talking to older folks in bars. Reading the funeral announcements posted on walls. Discovering where the Comune was. Boldly entering the building. Having an amazing visit to the Ufficio Anagrafe with time spent pouring over the ancient books. That activity started the Pontelandolfo phone chain and brought us incredible assistance. We found my father’s first cousins. That long tale is for another day.

Come prepared, make an appointment, spend some time here and buy me un caffè in the piazza. You won’t be disappointed.

Ci vediamo,

Midge Guerrera

This September 19 – 26th we have two spots open for Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo! This is a great way to learn, experience and be part of village life.

Can it Really Be 30 Years?

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Finding My Family - Genealogy

FaceBook sometimes feels like just another chore and then some photo or post will smack me in the face and send my memory cells careening around my brain. On April 15, 2025, my testa dura got smacked hard. Into my otherwise boring feed popped a picture of a handsome young man at his thirtieth birthday celebration. I started to sob. Not because, I wanted to be thirty and at that party – though that thought did enter my mind – but because I first met the now thirty year old Valerio Mancini in 1995. The year that changed our lives.

The adorable Valerio Mancini held by his beautiful mom, Carmela Fusco. 1995

1995 –  Jack and I accompanied my Aunt Catherine back the village she was born in, Pontelandolfo, Italy. That year, I had started a family tree and the three of us were on a quest to find more information.

Just to put 1995 in perspective, this is before we had a cell phone with a magic app that did instant translation. We had to get by on Jersey Girl balls and a big smile. Aunt Cat had had polio In Italy and at 80 something smiled like a wee elf sporting a big brace. Jack wheeled her to the municipal building and stopped. There were two flights of stairs to the anagrafe office. No worry, Aunt Cat beamed that magical smile at two local policemen who carried her up two flights of stairs in the chair. (This is what the Italian heart is all about.)

 The woman responsible for vital records spent about three hours with us going through all these old books dating back to the 1860s. Aunt Cat started speaking in an arcane Italian dialect and everybody understood her. Her face lit up. It was like she had just found heaven.  This was a language that was entrenched in her soul. A language that she never spoke at home and suddenly here she is and it’s possible again. We find all kinds of information. Like my Great Grandfather, Salvatore Guerrera, was married to Caterina Guerrera. Italian women keep their own names so my imagination went wild. Did he marry his cousin/sister – euuuch? Is that why I am just a little pazzo? Guerrera, we discovered, is a super common name. I licked my pencil point and kept on writing. We thanked everyone and found our way down the stairs and back to our car.

Now, we have about 6 handwritten pages of family tree and I haven’t the foggiest idea what we’re going to do with it. While staring at each other and standing in the almost empty Piazza Roma another vigile comes up to us. Having lived in Waterbury, Connecticut, He speaks English. Side Note – After World War Two, the lack of jobs and demolished towns were a catalyst for a mass exodus. There are more Pontelandolfese  in Connecticut today than there are in Pontelandolfo. 

Pietro Perugini, sporting his vigile uniform, walked right up to us. Asking if he could see the family tree, he pulled the notes from my hand, stared at them, got into the town police car and left.
 He left with all my notes. He just freaking left.  Three hours’ worth of notes and he gets in his car and he leaves.  What the f*&$?  I threw the biggest hissy fit imaginable.  All that work.  All that time going through the dusty books.  Had I unearthed a horrible town secret?  

The tantrum chock full of English curses started drawing a crowd.  Aunt Cat smacks me with her cane.  I’m thinking, OK OK, maybe like we’re related to really bad people and they don’t want us to know that we’re part of the baddest of bad evil people. Or maybe we’re royalty. That must be it – and and and and and they don’t want us to know because we really own this freaking Piazza.

I swear we waited for 3 ½ or 4 hours. but Jack said it was probably maybe 15 minutes. I don’t know. All that pacing was making me insane.  Officer Perugini finally came back and said, “I think I found your relatives follow me.”

 We get Anne Catherine back in the car and we followed to row houses on a side hilly street.  I found out later that after a devastating earthquake that eradicated homes dating back to the 1600s, this public housing was built.  Since the houses were crammed next to each other, it was tongue in cheek branded as Shanghai.  The vigile and I knocked on a door. A little old lady tentatively opens the door and with a fierce look stares at us. I’m holding the family tree and pointing I say here I am and there you are.  The policeman says it in Italian. Actually, I have no idea what he’s saying but I’m guessing it’s ‘here she is and there you are.’ Bamm, the door was slammed in our faces.

Jack had parked and Aunt Catherine is, with great difficulty, dragging her leg, holding on to Jack and walking toward this house.  I knock on the door again. Again, I’m greeted by a scowling woman, but also a smiling younger woman holding a baby saying “come on in for coffee.” Obviously mother and daughter don’t agree about what to do with these strange Americans. The old woman is essentially saying we know no one in America and we don’t want to. The young woman with an adventuresome gleam in her eye is curious. They see and hear Catherine say in her little voice from the road “are you my cousin?”

The three of us were in the doorway. Aunt Cat asked again, “tu e mia cugina?”   

The old woman replied, Jesu e Maria. Ora e sempre, Caterina Guerrera had recalled the ancient greeting. Both women started to cry and hugged. 

Giuseppina Guerrera and Caterina Guerrera meet.

Suddenly, Giuseppina Guerrera, who we discovered was indeed Aunt Cat’s first cousin, starts to ask her 20 questions. It was better than any of those quiz shows. The million dollar question was – Libero Capporosso. Conosci  libero caparoso? I’m thinking who the hell is Libero Capparoso? A light went off, the audience cheered as Anne Catherine said – “bookie.”   Libero means book in Italian.  He had left the village and come to New Jersey and stayed with our family. Bookie was the magic answer that opened the door to our hearts and love for Pontelandolfo.

That day, we also found another family and first cousin, Carmine Manna. Both families have embraced us. Because of them we became part of the greater Pontelandolfo family.

Thank you Valerio for posting your birthday bash on Facebook. Thank you for being part of our extended family. Thank you for reminding me how blessed we are to have found our roots in Pontelandolfo. That you for being that wee baby boy who smiled and welcomed us home.

Ci Vediamo

Midge