To tell you the truth, I didn’t think all that much about my grandfather, Donato Cerulli, until about five years ago. I mean, I had never met him so I had no memories of him. Then, in 2019, I decided to pursue Italian citizenship and realized that my eligibility hinged on a grandfather I knew almost nothing about. The last time my dad had seen his dad was about 70 years ago when my dad was in his mid-20s and stationed in Germany with the U.S. Army.

As I gathered the records needed for citizenship, I began to piece together the times of his life, with the help of my sister-in-law Jennifer and the Italian Citizenship Assistance Program. After visiting his hometown last weekend, I learned that when he returned to Monteforte Cilento in 1953, he was dubbed Donato Americano and became beloved in his town, like a mini-superstar. He is on the right in the photo below with a friend also from Monteforte Cilento. The photo was taken in Pittston, PA, but both men eventually returned to Italy.

My grandfather, Donato, was born in 1895 and left for the U.S.A. in 1913 (I think). The naturalization paperwork is a bit fuzzy. He would have been 18-years-old. He had two sisters left in Italy and I think he sailed for America alone or with friends. He married my grandmother, Lucia Della Malva, in March 1923 in Pittston, PA. I think he was a coal miner there. My grandmother, who lived in Italy, was in Pittston visiting relatives, but stayed and married my grandfather. She was a teacher in Italy and 22-years-old.

They moved to New York City and Jersey City after their marriage and my grandmother taught Italian and my grandfather was a laborer. They had two sons and the marriage lasted 20 years. It wasn’t a great marriage and their living conditions were rough in the tenements during the depression. My grandmother moved to Michigan with my teen-aged dad, divorced my grandfather in 1943, and remarried another man, Scipione, who I had considered my grandfather. She was very happy with Scipione.

Donato stayed in the U.S. after the divorce for about 10 years. He lived in New York City. My dad would take a Greyhound bus from Detroit to visit him. I’m sure his older son Nick did as well. In 1953, Donato left New York on the ship the “Andrea Doria,” which was a luxury cruise liner, and returned to Italy. When asked on the ship’s registry how long he intended to stay in Italy, he said “forever.” The “Andrea Doria” was in the news in 1956 when it sank near Massachusetts. My mom said that she named me Andrea because she thought the name Andrea Doria was pretty. So I am named after a sunken ship; also, my grandfather could not understand why my parents would give me a boy’s name as only boys were named Andrea in Italy.

This photo is of Donato’s two sons, my dad Joe on the right and Nick on the left. Joe and Nick were very close and one followed the other to Florida after they retired along with their wives.

My dad is in the middle with his dad on the left in Monteforte Cilento. My dad was stationed in Ulm, Germany, during the Korean War, with the U.S. Army, and managed to visits his dad several times. This was probably sometime between 1953 and 1955.

After arriving in Monteforte Cilento, he married a widow named Giovanna Nese, who had a young son Domenico. Domenico was 5 years old in 1953. I’m not sure what year Donato and Giovanna married. I do know that in every photo of Donato and Domenico, Domenico looks extremely happy. I learned from Domenico’s family that my grandfather loved Domenico like his own sons and never let him go off without some money in his pocket. He also did not like it if Giovanna scolded Domenico.

Here is my grandfather with his second wife Giovanna and his stepson Domenico in Monteforte Cilento.

Having returned to the small town of Monteforte Cilento in 1953, my grandfather was dubbed Donato Americano. He had more money than most in the town and was generous to people in need. He was also a devout Catholic and gave a lot of money to the church in the town. After living in an old house in the historic center, he built a new house in town, which his stepson’s widow Marialina lives in today.

I learned that my grandfather loved to sit in the town square and talk with his pals. He was said to dress nicely and was not much for “farming.” The men I saw in the town square last weekend who are now in their 70’s and 80’s remembered my grandfather. One man, Antonio Capozzoli, was with my grandfather when he died of a heart attack in the town square. He died peacefully and had been talking and laughing with his friends. He was 73.

This is my grandfather when he visited Michigan before he went back to Italy. He is with his two oldest grandchildren here. He had 7 grandsons and one granddaughter. All of these photos were kept by my grandfather and shown to me by Domenico’s family. They wanted me to take as many photos as I wanted, but I only took some. I feel in a way that they belong in Monteforte Cilento, with the people who treasured him.

I am in debt to the family of Domenico Rossi, my grandfather’s stepson, who hosted us last weekend in Monteforte Cilento and showed us all aspects of Donato’s life and death. Visiting the cemetery and his grave was very important to me. I learned that Domenico, who just died in April, had instructed that Donato’s grave not be moved so that the “Americans” could visit it when they came. Normally in Italy, graves are moved after so many years to make room for more newly deceased.

My grandfather found a second family when he returned to Italy and lived happily there for 15 more years. Bravo to my grandfather for finding happiness again in the family of the Nese’s, Rossi’s, and Perna’s. We could not be happier for him and for ourselves, who now have new extended family in Monteforte Cilento. We will return!