Sitting in Starbucks on my third large coffee within the last couple hours I stare at my computer screen contemplating on a way to begin telling “my story”. I find my mind often going back to one person in particular, my grandfather. If it wasn’t for his profound bravery and courage I, as well as my entire family, would not find ourselves here.
Dominic Ventresca was born in the year of 1931 in a small town in Italy called Salmona. This town being so small in fact, it is not even pictured on a map. Dominic was born the only male of his nine siblings. So, when Italy was invaded just a few short years after his birth he was forced to drop out of the fourth grade and start working on his family’s farm to help them survive. As he tells the story he was one of the fortunate ones. Many families came from towns over to come to their family farm for just one meal.
Years after the war Italy was left completely obliterated, and the large cities were left with extensive damage. Not to mention the small farming town of Salmona. The family who had struggled before the war to make it by were now left with completely nothing.
After much consideration, his family was forced into making a very difficult decision. They were forced into the realization that if Dominic was going to have any chance in life he would have to go to America. This gave the family hope. If he went to America to work he would be able to send money back to them and they might have a shot at recovery.
Everyone in the town came together and contributed what little money they had to buy my grandfather a ticket for the boat. I am always struck to the core by this part of the story. Even after the years of hearing this story told and retold the novelty of it would reduce to mere fact, but it has not. Their belief and desire for someone so young to have a better shot at life was so strong that they gave from the nothing that they had.
So begins the journey of my grandfather’s new life. As he steps onto the boat with no shoes, he never wore a single pair of shoes in his 18 years as they were a novelty his family simply could not afford, the clothes on his back, a small suite case, two dollars in his pocket, and a heart full of dreams. He had no connections where he was going, no idea what he was going to do upon his arrival, and did not speak a single word of English. Yet his desire to create a better life for himself and his family pushed him onwards.
After his arrival, Dominic was still struggling to get by. He picked up odd jobs such as digging trenches for sewer lines, working in chicken coops, and driving delivery trucks. At the end of every week he was handed his paycheck and asked not to come back, they simply could not get past the language barrier. How were they to employ someone who had no concept of what they were saying?
Still my grandfather’s drive did not fade. His incredible work ethic pushed him forward as this cycle continued for weeks until he slowly began to pick up English.
Eventually my grandfather met Silvia Sylvestry, my grandmother and began an apprenticeship at her father’s tailor shop.
While this may seem like a mere story told at family gatherings around the dinner table, it has actually played a big part in my identity. It has shaped me into a person empathetic to all other cultures outside of my own, those who are struggling to learn English as their second language, and all those coming to America in search of safety, shelter, or a chance for a better life.