L'Italo-Americano

L'Italo-Americano THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2014 www.italoamericano.com 22 Dear Readers, Since February (Febbraio) is the commercially correct month to celebrate Love, with Valentines, heart-shaped boxes filled with chocolates, red roses and romantic rendez-vous, I thought I would share a couple of love stories with you and also spotlight Hoboken, New Jersey, birthplace (1915-1998) of Frank Sinatra, who via his songs, music and records contin- ued to put lovers worldwide "in the mood for love" for over half a century. *** "Grazie" to Richard Stewart, son of the lovely "War Bride" in this story: Francesca was born in Naples, Italy. Naples is a beau- tiful city, but in 1943 when the Americans arrived, on October first, Napoli was a gigantic mess. No electricity, no gas, no water and no food, just garbage everywhere. And, when the German troops left, they blew up and destroyed whatever was left. Francesca's romantic story began in then, not so "Bella Napoli" in 1944. She recalls that it was "la Festa di San Giuseppe", March 19th at six o'clock in the evening. "My family and I were in the dining room having dinner. Somebody knocked at the door. My brother went to open it. After a few min- utes, he came back to the dining room and said, "In the foyer, there is an American officer and he speaks LATIN! My father, who spoke some English, said "I better go talk to him. I think he's lost. He got up from the table and went to the foyer. After a minute, he escorted the officer into the dining room and said, "It's not a mistake, this officer came for a visit." The office introduced himself. "I'd like to pay my respects to you and your family. My name is Stefano Edwardo Stewart. I am stationed at Capodichino. I live near here and share an apartment with Captain Moore who is fond of you and gave me your address." (Captain Moore was my brother's best friend). At the same time, he was look- ing at me and said to himself (she's really beautiful. She has beautiful long black hair, green eyes and an alabaster skin). At the same time I looked at him and said to myself, "he's tall and pretty handsome. He's not so bad." Well, he stayed until 10 o'clock, talking about various things, especially the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius and all of the ash and how the ash covered the wings of B-52's and bent them. He talked about the lava coming down the mountain and how fortunate it was that the lava was going in the other direction. Finally, when he decided to leave he said, "Thank you for this beautiful evening, and with your permission, I'd like to come back tomorrow if you allow me. My father said, "Your are very welcome. Come back anytime you like." Well, he came back tomorrow and tomor- row and every day thereafter. *** One night, Stefano invited me to go dancing. With my parents' permission, I went. What a strange dance. I never had seen anybody dance like that. The name was the "boogie-woogie". I couldn't dance the boogie- woogie, so we sat at a table. Stefano had a martini, and I had a strange drink I didn't like. The name was Coca-Cola, and I still don't like it. Easter Sunday was around the corner. My mother invited Stefano for dinner, which he accepted.. Now, how do you cook dinner without gas or electricity? The Neapolitan peo- ple are very resourceful. They invented some kind of barbecue using a garbage can and sold them for a few thousand lire. We bought one and cooked on the balcony. How about charcoal? None available. The same peo- ple were collecting wood from bombed buildings like furniture and doors, etc., cutting up and selling it in small bundles. The smell from the wood was not very pleasant. We knew Stefano pretty well by now, and he told us quite a bit about himself. He graduated from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. After he joined the Army Air Force, he was sent to M.I.T. in Boston where he got a Masters Degree in Meteorology. After Boston, he was sent to a fighter bomber Group staff. From there, over- seas to Africa, then Italy. Now he was Base Weather Officer at Capodichino with the 12th Weather Squadron. By now Stefano was spending all his free time at my house. We used to play games, espe- cially checkers, which he usual- ly won. We talked with him in Italian. Stefano translated from Latin into a new kind of Italian language. We really had lots of fun. Sometimes we went for a walk at the park. Sometimes we went to the seashore in his Jeep. Always in company of some- one else. We discovered that we had a lot in common and really liked each other. Every time Stefano went for a trip he brought me a present. Not too extravagant just some- thing to show he was thinking of me, but the gifts were always beautiful. When he went to Cannes, France on R & R (Rest and Recreation), he returned with a beautiful box of Chanel No. 5 perfume, plus a letter. A special letter telling me he loved me, and how he would like to marry me. I took a piece of paper, and I wrote, "When?" As soon as I talk to your father, he answered. They had a long discussion. Finally everything was all right. Stefano wrote to his parents to let them know his decision. His parents congratulated him and sent him an engagement ring plus a double wedding ring. We had a nice engagement party with champagne includedwhich was rare to get. We decided to marry by October. *** In the meantime, Stefano tried to apply for permission to marry. Surprise! He can't marry anyone until the war was over. Why? He knows too much (You are in operations which are top secret so you are top secret. You brief the pilots before they go on a mission. This is sensitive. What you know is sensitive. So, when the war ends, if you still want to get married, submit the application, and after an investi- gation it will be approved or denied, because even if the war if over, you are still in opera- tions). Finally, on May 17, 1945 the war ended. Stefano submit- ted his application. After two weeks, he received the answer. Capt. Clarence Albert Stewart, Congratulations, per- mission is granted. "Who is Clarence Albert Stewart", I asked. Stefano answered, "That's me, my name." "Your name? You said it was Stefano Edwardo". "Yes, a sergeant who knows Italian told me so". I say, "Wrong, Clarence doesn't exist in Italian". Anyway, forget about Clarence Albert, his name is Stefano forever. *** Now, we concentrated on our wedding. How about a wedding dress? Forget buying one- none available. How about material to make one? No luck. So, my mother decided to use a brand new linen bed sheet. A bed sheet? I didn't like the idea, peri- od. A lady friend of the family came to the rescue. We can dye it any color you want. Her fami- ly owned the plant where they dyed material in bulk. She sug- gested for me to pick a color, which I did- Sky Blue. The plant was closed for the war, but her husband opened it and called a worker to come in and dye the material. This was her wedding present to me. How about announcements and invitations? Again, another present from a family friend who was director of a newspaper. How about the veil? We had a piece of tulle left over from a curtain, and we made a veil. And now a big sur- prise! The12th Weather Squadron gave us the wedding. A wedding with all the trim- mings, plus a week honeymoon at the Isle of Capri. The wedding was performed at the Hotel Eremo on the top of Mt. Vesuvius. All the military free from duty attended, including the squadron commander, his aid, and the press photographer. After the ceremony, everybody wanted to kiss the bride. The commander congratulated Stefano and said, "Stu, how did you manage to make such a good catch?" A magnificent din- ner followed the ceremony. My father was able to buy a very special wine called "Lacrima Christi". This wine is made from the grapes grown on Mt. Vesuvius. We spent the night at a hotel, and next morning left for Isle of Capri where we stayed in a beautiful villa with a splendid view of the Faraglioni rocks (rocks which stick out above the water). We had a car and drove all over the island. We had a very good time. We were fortunate to have the right weather to go into the Blue Grotto. You have to lie down in the rowboat to get in. When inside, it's spectacular. After a beautiful week, we returned to Naples and started our married life. We celebrated our 67th wed- ding anniversary last year. We have four children, two boys and two girls. We also have four grandchildren. We have met a lot of interesting people. We spent one year in Cairo, Egypt and two years in Madrid, Spain. Gloria, our second child was born in Madrid. Our first child was born in Naples, Italy. In 1950, we came to the United States and lived 13 years in New York where George andRichard were born. From New York, we moved to Mt. Holly, New Jersey, where we lived for 10 years. From New Jersey, we moved to Spokane, Washington. After my husband retired, we spent the winters in San Jose, California. Spokane is too cold in winter and we are not "Spring chickens" anymore". *** The Best Things in Life are Either Italian or Chocolate. Therefore, back in 1997 when a friend suggested I join the Hoboken Historical Museum Society, I said "yes" fast. Hoboken, New Jersey is the birthplace (Dec. 12, 1915) of Francis Albert Sinatra, and was then the home base of Lepore's Homemade Chocolates. *** When I read my bi-monthly "Hoboken Historical Museum Newsletter" while I listened to Ol' Blue Eyes' music playing in the background and nibbled on a Lepore's homemade orange cream, enrobed in dark choco- late, I definitely get that, "I've got the world on a string..." feeling. The Hoboken Historical Museum Society is more than just Sinatra and Homemade Chocolates, but in 1996, it was Ed Shirak, co-owner (with Mario Lepore) of Lepore's Homemade Chocolates in down- town Hoboken, who donated $1,200 of the proceeds from a book he wrote about Sinatra ("Our Way") to help pay for a star plaque honoring Sinatra and serving as a landmark for visiting fans. The plaque sits in front of a gated lot at 415 Monroe St. The five-story tenement building where Sinatra was born in 1915 burned down more than 35 years ago. When he lived in Hoboken, Sinatra was obsessed with becoming the next Bing Crosby, joining a trio known as the Three Flashes. Later, called the Hoboken Four, they went on to win first prize on the radio show "Major Bowes Original Amateur Hour". "People come to our block from all over the world, every weekend, and they stop and talk to me about Frank Sinatra," said the owner of Pinky's, a store next to 415 Monroe Street. "With the plaque, people will know for sure where he lived". Since he left Hoboken in his mid-20's, Frank Sinatra rarely came back to visit. His last was a trip with President Reagan in the 1980's. But few residents in the mile-square New Jersey city on the Hudson River seem to care. Some restaurants play Sinatra's songs over and over again. The public library dedi- cated it reading room to him, and displays shelves of his memorabilia. The road along the city's waterfront is called Frank Sinatra Driver. At the dedication in 1996, hundreds of Hoboken residents gathered to honor the city's most famous blue-eyed son with a "130"-metal plaque set into the sidewalk, Hollywood Boulevard style, in front of the Monroe Street address where Frank was born. The crowd, which included fans and those who remembered him as a neighbor, also came for a ceremony that included then Mayor Anthony Russo, former Governor Jim Florio, and a tuxe- do-clad band that played Sinatra's songs. Hoboken is nearly obsessed with Sinatra. Signs on the out- skirts of town welcome visitors to "The Birthplace of Baseball and Frank Sinatra". If you have friends or relatives living in the "Garden State" of New Jersey, suggest that they join the Hoboken Historical Museum and Culture Society (1301 Hudson Street, Bx 3296, Hoboken, New Jersey 07030, Telephone (201) 656-2240, http://www.hobokenmuseum.or g/). ***

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