The Best Thing I Ever Did, part 1

Jimmy grew up in a poor neighborhood in the south suburbs of Chicago, the child of Italian immigrants. His father died before Jimmy reached the age of five, leaving his mother, Concetta, alone to lead her seven children into the mouth of The Great Depression. (Click on any image to see it larger.)


Jimmy's parents, Concetta and Rosario,
with their first two children, Maria and
Giovanni, circa 1919.

Jimmy spoke only in the dialect of his parents – the dialect of the people of the Abruzzo mountain region of east-central Italy – until he started in public school, where he quickly learned English. And like every boy he knew in school, he lived the hard life of poverty, and he came of age in the face of a war in lands far away that continually threatened to embroil his country.


Vincenzo (Jimmy) and his brother Giuseppe
(Joseph; known to family and friends as
"Chooch") goofing for the camera, circa 1941.
Possibly the oldest existing photo of Jimmy.

Not long after the start of his senior year in high school, Japan’s navy attacked the American ships docked sleepily at Pearl Harbor, and the fear of a nation was realized. It is perhaps that event that convinced him to continue with school and earn his diploma, a feat none of his six siblings accomplished. Shortly after graduation in 1942, Jimmy was drafted.

It was around fall of 1944, and Jimmy's unit, the 129th Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion, was bivouacked in and around the small village of Differdange, Luxembourg. Jimmy was assigned to the Headquarters company who were camped out in a large schoolyard which was surrounded by a heavy wrought-iron fence.


On the left, Jimmy shows off his trademark schnozzole. On the right,
he performs one of his ancillary duties in the 129th AAA Battalion and,
unbeknownst to him then, his future. Differdange, Luxembourg, circa 1944.

One day there were two attractive young women walking along the fence and Jimmy, being Jimmy, went over to talk to them. At least one of the girls spoke English very well, and French, German, Belgique, and Luxemburgie, as most Luxemburgers do. Her name was Teresa Civitareale (CHEE-vee-tah-ray-AH-lay), or Tresi for short. Her sister was Erna. Then one day, to Jimmy's surprise, he discovered that Tresi, her parents having emigrated from central Italy, also spoke Italian in Jimmy's own Abruzzese dialect! So, over time, conversing in English and Abruzzese, she told Jimmy that she had worked as a translator, which Jimmy assumed meant that she had worked for the Germans before they retreated ahead of the American advance.

The same activities went on for several days - the girls walked the fence, Jimmy talked to them for a while, and then they went on with their business. One day they came to Jimmy with a favor to ask: their uncle (mother's brother) lived in the USA, but they had not been able to get mail to him to let him know that they were still alive and healthy. They gave Jimmy their uncle's address and asked Jimmy if he would send a letter to him through the Army postal service. Jimmy said he would, so they gave him the letter, and he sent it.

Several weeks later a letter arrived from the uncle in the States, and Jimmy opened it, but it was written in Italian. The language of his parents had only been a spoken language to Jimmy. He never learned to read or write Abruzzese, let alone Italian. The next time he saw the young ladies, he gave them the letter, and they took it home to their parents.

With Jimmy's success in reaching the uncle, the Civitareale family vowed themselves forever indebted to Jimmy in their gratitude. In their eyes they could not do enough for Jimmy. Suddenly he was invited to dinner at the Civitareale home on a nightly basis, which, to a soldier who's been in the field for many months of eating meals from a can, is like a dream he doesn't want to wake up from! Jimmy accepted the invitation as often as he could get away with, and soon he felt toward the Civitareale family as he did toward his own.


The Civitareale family, 1944.

As he spent more time with them, and the closer he felt to them, the more desirous the parents became of making him a legitimate part of their family: at the end of each evening as Jimmy made to take his leave of their hospitality, the girls' father would send each of them down in turn for the opportunity to woo, or perhaps to be wooed by, Jimmy. By this point in his relationship with the family he felt toward each of the girls as he did a sister, so a pass at either of them was the farthest thing from his mind. And in Jimmy’s mind, that had to be pretty far!


Tresi Civitareale on the Avenue
Charlotte in Differdange, circa 1944.

History was recorded. The German Wehrmacht punched a hole through the American supply line which linked the 3rd Army in Bastogne, Belgium to the 1st Army in Luxembourg, and the US Army scrambled to contain them, forming what historians dubbed "The Bastogne Bulge." Soon the United States Army, and Jimmy, were on the move again, and Jimmy had to say good-bye to the Civitareale family. He promised them that he would stay in touch with them from that point on, corresponding with Tresi, despite the hardship he would face as a soldier in a global war.

Jimmy marched through Belgium and into Germany, and he wrote to Tresi. The war in Europe ended, and Jimmy was sent back west into France, from where he was shipped back home in 1946, and he wrote to Tresi. Jimmy reacquainted with a girl from the neighborhood, Mary, married her, and he wrote to Tresi. Tresi met and married Egidio Arrigoni. Mary and Jimmy brought Jim and Jo and Pam into the world, and still Jimmy corresponded with Tresi. Tresi and her husband moved from Differdange, Luxembourg, to Hussigny-Godbrange, France. Marie and Denise came into the world, and Jimmy wrote to Tresi. Dan was born and Jimmy entered barber college, and still he and Tresi traded letters. In 1959 Jimmy opened his barber shop, and he wrote to Tresi.

But Tresi didn’t write back. For a long time Jimmy didn’t hear from her. Finally, in 1961, Tresi wrote to tell Jimmy that she had been very sick and, as a suggestion by her doctor, had a second child, another daughter, in hopes, among other things, that her body would strengthen from the antibody boost having a baby would provide. However, it didn’t work, and, though the baby, Sylvaine, was healthy, Tresi was still sick, and showed no sign of recovery.


Tresi (far right) and Erna, and their respective fami-
lies in 1961. To Tresi's right is her older daughter,
Danielle; in her arms is Sylvaine.

To this day Jimmy doesn't understand why, but he never replied to Tresi's last letter. He says that he felt as though there was no point in it. They were four thousand miles apart. He had his life and his family. Tresi had hers. And now she was dying. Maybe he didn't know what to say when he learned that she was ill. Tresi never wrote again. Jimmy quietly accepted that she had died, and stoically absorbed her loss.


Jimmy's family, January 1962.

In part 2: Genealogy and Surprises!