In the Hamilton home of Tony (Antonio) and Pina D’Accione, I am listening to Ralph (Raffaele) Della Grotta with his wife Maria tell of their experiences as a member of the Lettesi community in Newcastle. The Lettesi[1] are part of a unique community of extended family members of some 145 households where one or both partners were born in the Abruzzo village of Lettopalena in Italy, and who settled in Newcastle between 1950 and 1956. [2] Two similar Lettesi communities are located in America and Argentina. [3]
That year, in 1969, the structure was formalized with the
establishment of an elected committee, the Lettesi Committee. The Lettesi Health
Fund was administered by the Committee. Later, the Committee became known as
the Lettopalena Association of Newcastle Inc.
The community could be readily mobilised for special events.
Memorial mass held in the ruins of the church, where the village
of Lettopalena once stood, 2006
Photograph from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
I first wanted to write about the unique system
of support that emerged to sustain this community as they forged new lives. As
I began, I quickly realized that it would be impossible to do so without trying
to communicate something of the larger context of the Lettesi story. Because –
like the Lettesi themselves – it is all connected.
The pioneers
The Australian story of the Lettesi begins in
1925 with the arrival in Brisbane of Giacomo (Jim) De Vitis. In 1927, he was
joined by his brother in law Arcangelo Rossetti. Arcangelo’s sons followed - Antonio
in 1929 and Giacomo (Jim) in 1931. [4]
The men settled around Proserpine, in north Queensland, and found work in the
cane fields. By 1938, Antonio and Giacomo Rossetti had purchased their own farms
in the area. These farms enabled the brothers to sponsor others from their home
village.
So began a chain migration process, initiated in
particular by Antonio Rossetti. With the prospect of work on the cane farms, many
men from Lettopalena emigrated, first to cut cane, then sometimes moving
elsewhere to find jobs that suited them better. Decades later, Tony and Ralph would
be among them. [5]
Making music on the Rossetti cane farm,
Proserpine, Queensland early 1950s
Music
provided a welcome distraction from the tough working conditions
Photograph
courtesy of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
The industrial city of Newcastle in NSW held
the promise of a wide range of job opportunities and it was inevitable that some
would find their way there. One man was a key link in the movement of Italian
migrants between Proserpine and Newcastle – Giovanni De Vitis.
Giovanni (John) followed his father Giacomo De Vitis to Australia in 1932, aged 17. He moved to Newcastle in 1947 and found permanent work in the dockyards. For six months of the year, in the cane-cutting off season, men from Proserpine came to Newcastle; John helped them find work and accommodation. Today, he would be known as 'the fixer.' Over time, many settled permanently in Newcastle. Initially, suburbs like Mayfield, Tighes Hill and Islington were popular as they were cheap, and located close to industries.
Giovanni (John) followed his father Giacomo De Vitis to Australia in 1932, aged 17. He moved to Newcastle in 1947 and found permanent work in the dockyards. For six months of the year, in the cane-cutting off season, men from Proserpine came to Newcastle; John helped them find work and accommodation. Today, he would be known as 'the fixer.' Over time, many settled permanently in Newcastle. Initially, suburbs like Mayfield, Tighes Hill and Islington were popular as they were cheap, and located close to industries.
Giovanni
De Vitis with daughters Rosa (left) and Franca (right), late 1950s
Photograph courtesy of Franca Ridewood,
née De
Vitis
Ralph Della Grotta arrived in Australia in 1953
aged 17; Tony D’Accione in 1956 aged 18; their first jobs were cutting cane
near Proserpine. Soon, however, both young men moved south to Newcastle, gaining
a variety of experience in different jobs. Eventually, Ralph took up barbering,
and in 1973 opened his own business in Beaumont Street, Hamilton. Tony and Pina
became well known as owners of the continental delicatessen Pina Deli between 1980
and 1991.
It was not unusual for fit
and able men from subsistence agricultural villages like Lettopalena to work
abroad, so as to better support their families. But what had happened to transform
what had begun as an emigration trickle to Australia in the 1920s into a flow
in the 1950s?
The story is one of devastation and terror, and
it is in danger of disappearing.
Caught in the cross fire – a
village destroyed
In the terrible winter of 1943, during World
War II, the village of Lettopalena became caught between the Allied forces
moving north from southern Italy, and the German army trying to hold them back.
Picture Lettopalena, perched on a narrow ledge,
backed against the wall of the great Maiella mountain range, overlooking a
ravine of the Aventino River. Some 780 people [6]
lived in this town, with a heritage stretching back to the 12th
century.
Since many men were away at the war, mainly women,
children and the elderly remained.
The German command decided that this locality
was critical to their defence strategy. For their own protection and to clear
the space for battle, the residents would be forced to leave their homes, and
prevented from returning.
No one really explained this to the people of
Lettopalena. Instead, on 18 November 1943 forty armed soldiers drove them out,
across the river to Colle delle Mandre, where the animal stables and sheep pens
were located. Confused and frightened, some sheltered in the stables, while others
went to Abbey of Santa Maria di Monteplanizio or a nearby church for the night.
Early next morning, 19 November, 1943 over in
the town, the soldiers were busy. Preparations were being made for something the
people sensed was deeply ominous. Everyone gathered near the stables to watch.
‘The
first blast went off at 9.30 am. It was a deafening, harsh sound…the house of
Vincenzo Martinelli, the miller, was the first to shake, then in an instant was
ripped apart by powerful explosives…dust and smoke engulfed the site of the
former building. The miller’s father …sobbed as he lowered his head in his
hands.’ [7]
Systematically, the soldiers went from house to
house, blowing up a building every two or three minutes with precision timing.
Six year old Tony D’Accione was in the crowd;
Ralph Della Grotta too, just a little older.
Maria Della Grotta vividly remembers watching
the fires. Just three years old at the time, she may not have understood the significance
of the tragedy, but her small body would surely have absorbed the howls of anguish
[8]
that rose from the crowd.
By 4 pm that day, Lettopalena no longer
existed. Dust, rubble and debris were everywhere.
Ruins of
the Church of Saint Nicholas, once the heart of Lettopalena
Photograph
courtesy of Carlo Finocchietti [9]
Next morning, the soldiers marshalled the
people out of the stables and nearby buildings. As they left, the stores of hay
were torched. Roofs collapsed, leaving the buildings derelict and dangerous.
As the full force of winter set in, months of suffering,
fear and uncertainty followed. Tony remembers returning with his father to what
was left of their house in the ruins to salvage tiles for makeshift repairs to
the stable roof.
Crops had been trampled, livestock stolen or scattered.
Flour was like gold. The women concealed small supplies in their garments. Foraging
in the fields to find something – anything - to feed the family was a daily
challenge.
Late in January, 1944 the Germans began to put
into effect the plan of transferring the population out of the strategic buffer
zone. Rounded up at rifle point, frightened and weakened by hunger, the people
were forced to trek through the snow to Palena, the next town.
Tony D’Accione endured this terrible forced
march. From Palena they were to go up and over the 300m Forchetta gap, to an
unknown destination.
‘A death
sentence could not have provoked greater alarm…in the darkness, during a
snowstorm…How could they do it with small children, elderly people, women
weakened by days and weeks of hardship, the sick?’ [10]
Fifteen died on this journey which, it
transpired, was to Pescocostanzo and on to Rocca Pia. The first to die were the
children – their deaths often not noticed as they were carried in their
mother’s arms. [11]
The epic stories of many who survived this
period of forced wandering and many who did not, are well documented. [12]
Separated from their homes and livelihoods, some managed, like homing pigeons,
to find their way back, only to be chased out again. There were accidents on
the treacherous tracks; frostbite, injuries and deaths in the deep snow;
escapes and sabotage; even a child was born on the way.
And those who were children or young adults,
like my hosts, carried their memories with them to new lives, in Newcastle.
An
artist at work recreating Lettopalena, based on a rare original photograph
The
Commune of the new town of Lettapalena commissioned an artist
to paint a
memorial wall in the new town, 2012
Photograph courtesy of Mayor Carolina De Vitis, Lettopalena
Taking care of one’s own
It is no wonder, then, that having endured such
trauma, the Lettesi would cluster together, and support one another. Newcastle
researcher Dr Judith Galvin has studied this community, travelled to the new
town of Lettapalena, and walked in the ruins of the old. She has described the
interconnected kinship system that not only drove the emigration process to
Australia but also generated the system of support that sustained the community
during resettlement. [13]
From the early 1950s, when the Lettesi network
helped community members find jobs and homes in Newcastle, an informal system to
support those encountering hard times also operated. Judith Galvin explains:
‘If a
breadwinner was injured or a family member died, leaders would emerge, arrange
what they could, do the rounds of the community, collecting money to assist the
family’[14]
Over 80
donations were collected for widow Orsina De Vitis, then living near
Proserpine,
when husband Giovanni died suddenly in 1969, aged 54.
Silvana and Frank De Vitis, with daughters Enza and Rosa, drove from Newcastle
to Proserpine to deliver the donations, worth about $1500 in today's currency.
Documents courtesy of Franca Ridewood née De
Vitis.
Community members who wished to participate
paid a weekly or annual membership fee, thus financing benefits for eligible
members in need. Modest though the scheme was, it must have been like having a health
fund and unemployment benefit, rolled into one.
The Foundation President of the Lettesi
Committee was Nicolino De Vitis. Nic was one of twelve Lettesi whose
immigration had been sponsored by the Australian government. A caring and
respected community leader, Nic went on to hold various Committee positions
continuously from 1969 until 1982.
Six of twelve
men from Lettopalena sponsored by the Australian government
Bonegilla Migrant Camp, Victoria, 1952
Bonegilla Migrant Camp, Victoria, 1952
(L-R) Benito Di Paolo, Berardino D’Amico, Nicolino
De Vitis, Concezio Tarantini,
Emidio Rossetti, Paolo Palmieri
Photograph
from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
Antonio (Tony) Della Grotta, brother to Ralph,
followed Nic De Vitis as President. Judith Galvin explained to me the immeasurable
contribution that Tony Della Grotta made in the early years of Lettesi
settlement in Newcastle.
‘He was everybody’s social worker,’ she said. ‘He
gave his heart and soul, and whole energy to helping others in every way
imaginable.’
Among the twelve sponsored by the Australian
government, Tony Della Grotta was six times President of the Committee, once
Vice President and five times Secretary. Tony Della Grotta and later, Tony D’Accione became
the longest serving Presidents. Tony D’Accione was a member of the
Committee from 1970 to 1986, serving as President from 1976 to 1986, once as
Vice President and four times as Treasurer. The community leadership provided by Tony D’Accione is widely appreciated and acknowledged.
Ralph Della Grotta, like his brother Antonio,
also served his community on the Committee. He was Vice President once and
Secretary on six occasions. Others who made important contributions included
Jimmy Gizzi, Frank De Vitis, John Palmieri, Giovanni Di Claudio and Domenico
Palmieri.
Over time, as the community became more self
sufficient, and other national safety nets were put in place, the role of the
Lettopalena Association changed.
Social and recreational activities became more
important, providing a chance for Lettesi to gather together, renew their bonds
of friendship, and enjoy themselves. As their families became established, and their
children grew up, it may have become possible for some to leave memories of
past hardships behind.
Picnics
were a popular, easily organized social activity for
members of the Lettesi
community, late 1950s
Photograph
from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
Dances were held four times a year, associated
with festivals at Easter and Christmas/New Year, as well in August and October.
Before
they were married – at a Lettopalena Association dance,
Ralph Della Grotta and
Maria née Martinelli, late 1950s
Photograph
courtesy of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
A local hall would be hired and taken over for
the occasion. The men cleaned and set up the space; the women moved in and
cooked for the whole day, usually serving a substantial meal of pasta, main
course and cakes. After midnight, when it was all over, the men disposed of bottles
and other rubbish, and the women tackled the piles of dishes. As always, a
small, core group of families provided most of the volunteer labour.
‘We’d be so tired,’ Tony says, ‘but then we’d
recover and in a few months, do it all over again.’
‘What did you like best about those times?’ I
ask.
‘It was the togetherness,’ responds Maria. ‘Our
kids grew up together. We shared everything, and had such fun.’
Dances
were events for the whole family – three Nonnas watch the action
(L-R)
Marie De Vitis, Maria Di Claudio, Anna (Rosa) Martinelli
Photograph
from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
The community could be readily mobilised for special events.
Fundraising
dance for victims of the Friuli earthquake, attended by
over 300 Lettesi, Transport
Hall Hamilton, 1976
‘We were squeezed in like sardines’
Photograph
from the collection of Antonio and Pina D’Accione
Large self-catered events are a thing of the
past – it’s easier to meet friends in a local coffee shop, pub or club. Those who were once the driving force behind the Lettopalena Association are now ageing. Still, the committee continues, served loyally by Croce Di Stefano, Angelo Thodas, Sergio Pigliacampo, Angelo Rossetti, Tony D’Accione and Ralph Della Grotta.
Gathering
for bocce at the Highfields Azzurri Club, early 2000s
Photograph
from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
The women continue to celebrate important
milestones by going out to lunch.
Celebrating the 50th birthday of Maria della Grotta (centre), Hamilton 1990
Photograph
from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
A community reclaimed
Judith Galvin described the Lettesi as ‘a
community in search of place.’ [15]
By 1976, when she conducted a year of in depth
interviews for her research, Galvin found that Hamilton had become the focus of
Lettesi identity. She noted that from as early as 1957, the community had begun
to show a preference for Hamilton over nearby suburbs, and this preference
continued. [16]
Known as ‘Little Italy’ and Little Lettopalena’ [17]
Hamilton had become the preferred place to live for a majority of Lettesi.
There were shops where people felt at home; friends and relatives lived nearby
and Beaumont Street was where you’d bump into people you knew.
Many Lettesi in Newcastle still remember being
driven from their homes, and the desperate efforts of their families to find
their way back – regardless of what they would find when they arrived.
Yet some things defied destruction - shared
values and beliefs, kinship networks, their care for one another, and their
sense of identity.
And many of them brought all this, finally, to
Hamilton, where ‘a village within a village’ has taken root and grown.
The Lettesi had found their place.
Over time, new generations of Lettesi have
taken their families to other Newcastle suburbs, to other Australian cities and
even overseas. Still, something unique remains in Hamilton.
Leafing through the pages of Judith Galvin’s
study of the Lettesi, my eye is caught by a quote from an unnamed interviewee:
‘It’s
the places you’ve been to, the places you live – like a bird comes back to
where it’s been – to the places that are familiar.’ [18]
Because this group of people once lost everything,
and had to begin all over again, the best elements of their lives have been
transposed from Lettopalena. Hamilton has been changed irrevocably. That is
their legacy.
At home,
Hamilton, 2015
(L-R) Maria
and Ralph Della Grotta, Tony and Pina D’Accione
Acknowledgements
Thank
you to Tony and Pina D’Accione, and Ralph and Maria Della Grotta for sharing
their stories, photographs and resources. Unattributed photographs by Ruth Cotton.
The
Lettopalena Association would like to thank everyone who has volunteered their
time and effort over the years in support of the community.
of Lettopalena once stood, 2006
Photograph from the collection of Ralph and Maria Della Grotta
[1] ‘Lettesi’
is the way people of Lettopalena are described – like Australians say ‘Sydneysiders’
or ‘Melbournians’.
[2] Judith
Galvin completed her PhD thesis in 1983 on ‘The Lettesi in Newcastle: A study of
ethnic
community formation, consolidation and integration. ' It is online at https://uoncc.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/the-lettesi-story.pdf. A short version is also
on this site, and is titled ‘The Lettesi Story - A Community in Search of
Place.'
[3] Two
similar Lettesi communities are located in Turtle Creek, Pittsburgh,
Pennsylvania, USA and in Caseros, near Buenos Aires, Argentina.
[4] Judith Galvin, 1983 ‘The Lettesi Story - A Community in
Search of Place.' Online at https://uoncc.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/the-lettesi-story.pdf p.19.
[5] Arcangelo Rossetti was Tony D’Accione’s uncle and also Maria Della
Grotta’s grandfather.
[6] Matteo Cosenza 1996, Lettopalena A
Town, a History, translated by Guy Rossetti. Carsa Edition, Pescara, p.66.
[7] Matteo
Cosenza 1996, p.26.
[8] Matteo
Cosenza 1996, p.26.
[9] Carlo Finocchietti’s blog is at https://blogcamminarenellastoria.wordpress.com/tag/lettopalena/
[10] Matteo Cosenza 1996, p. 52.
[11] Matteo Cosenza 1996 p. 55
[12] Matteo Cosenza 1996.
[13] Judith
Galvin, 1983 p.
25.
[14] Judith
Galvin, 1983 p.
25.
[15] Judith Galvin, 1983 p. 7.
[16] Judith Galvin, 1983 p. 32.
[17] Judith Galvin, 1983 p. 27.
[18] Judith
Galvin, 1983 p.
40.
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