Tracking down my family; Castagnola, Italy

by starchaholic

The view from Castagnola, IT

The view from Castagnola

 

Saturday I went to Castagnola, Italy. This is the town that the Cassellas, my mother’s family, is originally from before immigrating to New York City around the turn of the 20th century. I have always wanted to visit this town and had been trying to plan this trip for quite some time now. My great uncle, August Cassella, had visited the town roughly 15 years ago. He gave me some information about where the town is, some pictures, and a T-shirt that he had made when he went there. He said he brought 12 T-shirts for the town.

 

The T-shirt that my great uncle had made and some pictures he took

The T-shirt that my great uncle had made and some pictures he took

Castagnola is a tiny mountain town in the region of Emilia-Romagna between Piacenza and Genova. From Parma, I traveled to Piacenza by train and then took a bus to Bobbio, which is basically the closest civilization. Bobbio is a beautiful town and it is famous for a very old monastery and bridge, amazing hearty food, and there is a rumor that the Mona Lisa was painted there. It was great bonus to the trip to visit it.

Bobbio, IT

Bobbio

What do you do on a Saturday in Bobbio? stand around at the market talking soccer of course!

What do you do on a Saturday in Bobbio? Stand around at the market talking soccer of course!

Tagliolini with deer ragu and parmigiano reggiano cheese. Apparently, a Bobbio staple!

Tagliolini with deer ragu and parmigiano reggiano cheese. Apparently, a Bobbio staple!

I previously arranged for a driver to take me from Bobbio to Castagnola. I am glad I did not rent a car, the road was as windy as I have ever seen one. There was definitely some white-knuckle moments on the way there. The driver seemed to know the town as he did not need a map. He told me that the town is called Castagnola because of the abundance of Castagna (chesnut) trees in the area.

almost there

almost there

I arrived there and found the church from the picture. Castagnola has 3 families that live in it; Casella, Calamari, Cervini; all their names were on the church. A mans name was on the front, Giuseppe Cervini.

the church, same from the picture!

The church, same from the picture!

Casella! they are here!

Casella! they are here!

Translated text below name, "Fighter in the U.S. Army fell to the Florentine castle”

Translated text below name, “Fighter in the U.S. Army fell to the Florentine castle”

I walked down the road and saw an old man walking slowly towards me, when he spotted my blond, blue eyed and 6’3” self, he approached with a bit of apprehension but some curiosity. I yelled “Buongiorno! Sei Casella?” Good Morning, are you a Casella? I pointed the name on the T-shirt to reinforce my point. I introduced myself and said I was a Cassella (not really wanting to explain how I am a Mitsch but my mom is a Cassella) from America and I am a student in Parma. He said he is not a Casella, but a Cervini. He pointed to a man down the hill who was working in his yard next to an old lady and said that man is a Casella.

Castagnola

Castagnola

Another view

Another view

I walked down a muddy path to the man and introduced myself, told him I am a Casella from America, I am a student now in Italy, my mother and grandfather are cassellas. My uncle visited 15 years ago and brought these T-shirts.  He introduced himself and said his name is Giovanni, which was exciting because that is John in Italian. He didn’t share the same excitement. He introduced me to his mother, whose name I could not fully understand even though she repeated it. It began with a “D”.

I asked him what he was doing today, he said he was chopping firewood. He also said that there are not many people in the town currently,  only about 30;  but in the warmer months there are 300 inhabitants. I couldn’t fully understand when he explained why everyone left, but he said something about Milan and Piacenza. Also, it is the older people who stay in the town. I imagine it is difficult to live there in the winter.

Giovanni Casella and his mother

Giovanni Casella and his mother

In the warmer months they raise Mucca (cows). When I asked Giovanni what they eat regularly, he said, “tutto!” (everything!). They make cheese from the cows when they have them. Grocery shopping is done close by in larger towns or in Bobbio.

I asked him why he thought the Casellas came to America. The answer was simple, “lavorare” or work. He said he thinks America is a beautiful place, I agreed and told him I think Italy is very beautiful. He said there is a lot of Casellas in America but I am not sure if he meant descendants or recent immigrants. Giovanni told me that Casella is spelt with one “S” and I told him I think it was changed in America, which is what I remember my mom saying.

It seemed Giovanni knew the shirt I had and he said something about him or someone else receiving a letter from my great uncle, August. I think he remembered his visit. We talked a little more and after some pictures, I asked him to write down his address for me to write him. I then thanked him and walked back up the hill to the church.

Casa di Giovanni

Casa di Giovanni

Myself and Nonna, she is camera shy or very scared of this tall foreigner.

Myself and Nonna, she is camera shy or very scared of this tall foreigner.

Past the church is a cemetery where I saw many Casella, Calamari, and Cervini names. I took some photos and looked around at the amazing mountain valley that Castagnola happens to be in. I then left and went back to Bobbio.

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The small Cemetery

What is so amazing to me that over 100 years ago ancestors of mine stood in the same place, and made a decision to go to America. The allure of this “land of gold” must have been pretty strong for them to leave this comfortable mountain village and make a trek, by boat, across the Atlantic Ocean to a completely foreign place. And what if they had not done this? What if they stayed in this village raising the Mucca? Generations of the Casellas would not even exist in America. I would not exist! What would you be reading right now! What is even more amazing is that so many others made this journey from all parts of Europe and the world from similar small towns such as this, the story is not uncommon at all.

What an experience this was, I will have to return in the summer to check how the Formaggio di Mucca production goes!