Across the Sea: The Emotional Journey of a Southern Italian Family to America
The Broccoli family in Carolei, Calabria, 1928.
Imagine for a moment your parents, your grandparents, or even your great-grandparents. Picture their faces, etched with worry, hope, and courage, standing at the edge of everything familiar, about to step onto a ship that would carry them away from home forever.
Naples, Italy, 1907
The air is thick with salt from the Mediterranean Sea, mingling with the pungent aromas of freshly baked bread, roasted chestnuts, and drying laundry hanging over narrow alleys. It’s here, on a crowded dock buzzing with anxious whispers and tearful goodbyes, that our story begins.
Rosa, a young mother from Calabria, grips the small, trembling hands of her children, Giuseppe and Lucia. Her husband Antonio had already made this daunting voyage months earlier, driven by the necessity of escape from poverty, hunger, and the relentless grip of hopelessness. Now, clutching the precious letters Antonio sent, Rosa bravely takes her first steps aboard the steamship bound for America.
Life in Southern Italy: Reasons for Departure
Calabria, like much of Southern Italy in the early 20th century, was mired in severe poverty and social injustice. Life was harsh, daily existence dictated by the whims of an unforgiving landscape and oppressive economic conditions. After the unification of Italy, resources flowed disproportionately northward, enriching northern cities while southern villages remained neglected. Taxes on land, crops, and livestock rose steeply, yet investment never followed, deepening the divide between the prosperous North and the suffering South.
The land, once fertile, had been ravaged by generations of exploitation. Crops like wheat, olives, and grapes—vital for survival—frequently failed due to drought, pests, and depleted soil resulting from relentless cultivation without adequate rest or nourishment. Malaria, cholera, and tuberculosis spread quickly through cramped, unhygienic living conditions, devastating entire families and communities.
Employment was scarce; many men worked as laborers, sharecroppers, or miners in dangerous, exhausting conditions. Women toiled endlessly in homes and fields alike, yet wages were meager, often insufficient to meet basic needs. Debt accumulated rapidly, incurred through exploitative landlords and loan sharks who lent money at exorbitant rates, often associated with local mafias preying on desperate families.
The heavy taxes imposed were intended to support the growth and infrastructure of the newly unified country, yet southern communities saw little benefit. Instead, tax collectors demanded payments relentlessly, forcing families to sell their few valuable possessions to meet these obligations. Older men and women, bent and crippled from years of grueling labor, watched helplessly as their strength faded, knowing they lacked the physical capability to survive such hardships.
Many dreamed of leaving, yet some remained trapped by circumstances. The elderly, the chronically ill, or those too poor to afford passage faced an impossible choice. For those contemplating emigration, questions haunted them: "Can we survive the journey?" "Will America truly offer a better life?" "What if we never see our homeland or loved ones again?" These fears prevented some from ever stepping aboard a ship, binding them painfully to their struggles at home.
Every day was a relentless battle. Families like Rosa’s worked tirelessly yet barely scraped by. The promise of America reached their ears through stories told by returning emigrants, letters filled with hope, and newspapers circulating tales of boundless opportunities in factories and farms across the Atlantic. This vision of a better future was irresistible.
Farewell to the Land of their Birth
On the pier, tears flow freely. Parents cling desperately to their grown children; siblings embrace, unsure when they’ll see each other again, if ever. Rosa catches a glimpse of her elderly mother waving weakly, eyes wet with quiet acceptance. Rosa feels a piece of her heart break away, left behind forever on those shores. Voices shout final farewells: "Buona fortuna!" ("Good luck!") and "Ti vogliamo bene!" ("We love you!"). Prayers float upwards like whispers in the wind: “Madonna mia, proteggili” (“Madonna, protect them”). The salty taste of tears mixes with the ocean spray.
Passengers provide their names and hometowns to ship officials, anxiously answering questions about their intended destination and family connections already established abroad. Rosa feels her throat tighten as she pronounces her name clearly, determined not to falter at this final checkpoint.
The deep, mournful blast of the ship’s horn tears through the emotional silence, breaking hearts yet calling forward to possibility. Rosa whispers promises to her frightened children, masking her own fears beneath a determined calm. As the ship pulls away, Rosa feels the weight of an invisible thread stretching, tethering her heart between past and future, home and the unknown.
Life in the Belly of the Ship
Below deck, reality strikes harshly. Hundreds of emigrants crowd into steerage compartments, dimly lit by flickering lanterns casting ghostly shadows. The air is heavy, suffocating, carrying a potent mix of sweat, seasickness, human waste, and damp wood. The low ceilings force taller passengers to stoop, and privacy is nonexistent. Wooden bunk beds, stacked three high, line the walls with straw-filled mattresses that offer little comfort. Rosa and her children squeeze into a small berth, curled tightly together for warmth and comfort, the rocking motion of the ship both soothing and unsettling.
Meals are communal, served at long, rough wooden tables in a common area. The tables are sticky and worn, carrying the scents of countless previous meals. Passengers eat hurriedly, scooping thin, grayish stew into dented metal bowls, tearing apart dry, crusty bread, and peeling boiled potatoes with tough skins. Rosa remembers vividly the rich sauces, sun-ripened tomatoes, fresh basil, garlic, and freshly baked bread of her Calabrian village, a stark contrast to this tasteless sustenance. She longs for the fragrance of olive oil, the sweetness of fresh figs, the tang of aged cheeses, and the hearty warmth of homemade pasta. Yet Rosa watches her children hungrily devour their portions, grateful for even these meager rations. Afterward, the dishes are wiped clean, and small vermin scurry across the floors, hidden just beneath notice but always felt.
The bathrooms are a horror—a communal space rarely cleaned adequately, the stench overpowering and unavoidable. Rosa holds her breath each time she brings Giuseppe and Lucia, quickly guiding them back to their cramped corner afterward.
One day, the seas turned particularly rough, transforming steerage into a chaotic and terrifying place. The ship lurched violently, its hull creaking and groaning with each massive wave. Water seeped through cracks, pooling on the wooden floors, making footing treacherous. Passengers clung desperately to railings and beds, their faces pale with nausea and fear. Rosa gathered Giuseppe and Lucia close, gripping them tightly as the ship pitched dramatically, belongings sliding across the floor, scattering belongings and possessions in all directions. The smell of sickness intensified, mingling with the dampness and fear that hung heavily in the air. Amidst the chaos, whispered prayers grew louder, fervent pleas rising toward the heavens for safety and calm seas. It was a harrowing day, etched vividly into the memories of all aboard, reminding them of the fragile line between hope and despair.
Despite these conditions, passengers occasionally venture up to the deck at night, drawn by the need for fresh air and a glimpse of stars. Under a vast sky, they breathe deeply, savoring the clean ocean breeze, the stars above bright and endless. For Rosa, this nightly ritual becomes a small refuge, a brief moment of peace in their arduous journey.
Endless Days, Precious Moments
Days blur into weeks. The Atlantic Ocean proves unforgiving, its vastness stretching endlessly, testing the resolve of everyone onboard. Illness is common, striking without discrimination. Rosa watches helplessly as Giuseppe and Lucia grow pale and weak, her heart aching with each labored breath they take. She prays fervently, murmuring softly to San Giuseppe (Saint Joseph), protector of families, and Santa Lucia, patroness of sight and light, clinging to Antonio’s letters as though they are talismans capable of protecting her children from harm.
Yet amid the hardship, pockets of beauty emerge. At night, beneath the faint glow of a single lantern, music breaks out—soft mandolin strings vibrating with nostalgic melodies, voices lifting in harmony, singing songs of home: “Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole” (“What a beautiful thing, a sunny day”). Colorful scarves whirl through the air as women spin gracefully, skirts billowing like blooming flowers, reds, yellows, and vibrant blues mixing in mesmerizing patterns. Men stamp their feet and clap hands rhythmically to the tarantella, their faces flushed with exertion and joy. "Balla! Balla!" they shout, encouraging everyone to join. The room fills with the scents of sweat and sea salt, mingling with the faint sweetness of spilled wine. Laughter rings out, clear and bright, intermingling with cheers and clapping hands. Rosa watches as Giuseppe and Lucia's eyes light up, and soon they join in, their small feet mimicking the older dancers. The room pulses with life, joy, and memory, the music momentarily banishing despair and fear.
Common sayings and proverbs pass between passengers: "Chi dorme non piglia pesci" ("Those who sleep don't catch fish"), encouraging one another to keep hopeful and active despite the difficult conditions.
Rosa feels the warmth of community surrounding her, a comforting blanket woven from shared hopes, dreams, and resilience. For those precious moments, steerage transforms into a celebration of life, reminding everyone aboard of the vibrant, beautiful culture they carry within them.
First Glimpse of a New World
Finally, after nearly two grueling weeks at sea, a cry rings out from above deck. Rosa rushes upward, eyes wide with anticipation. Through the morning mist, land emerges—first vague, then increasingly clear. The Statue of Liberty rises majestically from the waters, a beacon promising freedom, opportunity, and welcome. Around her, people weep openly, prayers whispered fervently, thanking God for safe passage.
Lucia tugs Rosa’s sleeve softly, eyes filled with wonder, “Mamma, is this home?” Rosa’s throat tightens, but she nods, hopeful yet uncertain, longing for Antonio’s reassuring presence.
Ellis Island: Gatekeeper of Dreams
At Ellis Island, chaos awaits. Lines stretch endlessly, officials barking instructions in languages Rosa doesn’t understand. Medical inspectors quickly examine them, rough and indifferent. Fear creeps into Rosa’s heart—one wrong answer, one missed document could mean rejection and deportation.
Yet after what seems an eternity, they pass through the gates, officially granted entry into America. Relief floods Rosa’s heart, washing away the weeks of fear and uncertainty.
Reunited at Last
Rosa scans the sea of faces, desperation clawing at her chest—until a voice cuts through the noise. Antonio, his face illuminated with joy, arms stretched wide, rushes toward them. They collapse into each other’s embrace, sobbing with relief, love, and gratitude. Giuseppe and Lucia cling to their father, laughter mingling with tears, their small faces radiant with newfound hope.
Antonio whispers softly, “You’re safe now. We’re together.”
Forging a New Life
Their journey across the ocean, filled with trials and resilience, becomes the cornerstone of their new lives. Like countless Southern Italian families before and after them, Rosa and Antonio bravely faced the unknown, driven by love for their children and hope for the future. Their courage echoes through generations, inspiring descendants to reconnect, honor, and cherish their remarkable legacy.
Today, we remember these ancestors with profound respect, understanding that their dreams, struggles, and triumphs are inseparable from our own identities. Their strength reminds us that no journey, however arduous, is without beauty and purpose, forging an unbreakable bond between past and present, Italy and America, hardship and hope.
