The idea was fairly well thought out. Meet my parents and my aunt and uncle in Milan and go to the two towns that my mother and father's families are from. The plan was to spend two nights inn each town and then three nights in Bellagio to relax. We had researched our ancestors and were very confident of the towns. My mother more so, as she had been to Oleggio when she was nine with her father. Piazzo was a fair certainty as we had found the town name on ship's registries on various websites. So I met them in the airport as planned and before I knew it, I was zooming down the autostrade towards our first destination, Piazzo.
Piazzo is a small town and in actuality, is merged with the larger down the hill town of Lauriano. We had great accommodations and wonderful first meal at Farm B&B Cascina Colombaro. Our fist bit of luck was how close we were. In the morning it was a short stroll up the hill to Piazzo. As we walked up the tiny country road I told my aunt and my dad, "We're the first of our family to return from America in nearly 100 years." We made our way up the hill gawking at buildings and getting ever closer to the tower of the church in the center of town. I noticed that there were not many people out and about and the only person we did stop to talk to said "No English!" and briskly moved on. I worried that mom's smattering of Italian may not end up being as useful as we all had hoped. We pushed on and stopped occasionally at spots of interest. I took pictures and video trying to capture my dad and his sister as they walked, literally in their Grandfather's footsteps. At this point our only real plan was to see the center of town. Another person came walking down the hill and in very good English said, "Can I help you? Are you lost?"
This was the luck, or rather, she was the luck. We had just been stopped by Matilde Casa, the Mayor of the town. She saw us and immediately knew we were not Italian, but after talking with us also saw something that doesn't happen often. Maybe never in the ten years she's been mayor. Americans looking for ancestral roots in Piazzo, Italy. She said it just doesn't happen. What ensued the next few hours was magical. She took us straight to the ONLY bar/tavern/pub/meeting place in Piazzo. Casa Degli Amici to "meet some locals". After some quick consults with the guys sitting outside the bar, she said, "We really need Michelangelo here. He knows everything about Piazzo." As if on cue, up walks a grey bearded gentleman. "Ahh! Michelangelo!" she cried.
The meeting is still a blur to me and I filmed almost all of it. She translated who we were and our family names and then translated back what he said. Turns out my great-grandfather may have been the last to leave and that any extended family had moved away. There were no more Matta's living in Piazzo anymore. He continued to translate the marriage notice of my great great grandfather and the birth of his son. He corrected a street name we thought we had to a section of the town. More of a neighborhood where they lived. We enjoyed coffee in the tiny square and of course conversation turned to food and life in Piazzo.
As things wrapped up, we said our goodbyes and thank you to Michelangelo. He had his weekly wine and conversation to attend with the guys. We invited the Mayor to dinner and met her daughter who joined us that night. The next day she had us come down to the Comune and meet in her office. Her staff researched our family name and we received copies of birth and marriage records. She also gave us copies of a book written about Piazzo and stood for pictures. Her last gift was the best. She called the Mayor of Oleggio and asked them to make an appointment for my Mother to research her family!
An incredible start to a trip and we have the Mayor to thank for it!
Next: Part 2 Does our luck run out in Oleggio?