This Bitter Earth

I dedicate this book to my mother, Maria Privitera Caruso and my father Francesco ‘Cheech’ Caruso.

To my mother, who plays no part in this story, but because she chose to love my father when it was obvious that he would never be able to return her love.

To my Father I dedicate this book because of the early age in which he was forced by life’s cruelties to grow up far sooner than a child should have to and because he suffered the loss at a very young age of one of the main things the soul needs to live and thrive. The promise of love.

Your loving son, Dominic …

INTRODUCTION

From the beginning of time, when it was felt that the Island of Sicily was of some worth—some value—it has been occupied or exploited by foreign powers. The island was vulnerable, existing in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, ninety miles away from what is known as the boot of Italy. Largely owing to its location, Sicily has always been in peril. Until its unification with mainland Italy in 1896, it was alone and on its own.

Both before and after this unification with Italy, Sicily has been conquered and ruled by Normans, Arabs, Greeks, Spaniards, French, Turks, Romans, Moors, Norwegians, Vikings and many other sea-faring entities. For almost eighteen centuries, the fate of the Sicilian people was in the hands of various foreign powers.

The Island of Sicily is separated from the mainland by a body of water called the Straits of Messina. When problems arose on the island (and if it happened to be in the best interest of the mainland to ignore the issues), the Italian authorities in that area would conveniently turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to the islanders’ plight.

During the middle of the thirteenth century, after repeated unsuccessful attempts by the Sicilian people to help themselves, the natives of this small island—mostly farmers—could no longer tolerate the many abuses of the past. They refused to settle for what seemed to be a new type of abuse. There was widespread piracy occurring with no regard for the country’s shore or people. This new threat was far more terrible than occupation.

Sicily was a poor island; the occupation actually brought about many advantages. There was now a means by which the locals could market their goods for profit. New habits, new ways of life and different foods were introduced throughout the Sicilian countryside already rich in produce.

The downside to occupation was the abuse the natives had to endure at the hands of the occupying forces, which was grudgingly accepted and often tolerated without objection. The most brutal abuse, however, occurred at the hands of the non-occupying forces. These groups of tyrants became known as pirates, the marauders of the sea. For about fifty years, they would all but rule the seas of the world. The Mediterranean trade ports from Spain to Turkey were very busy and Sicily became an easy port of replenishment. These pirates were comprised of the scum of the earth up to and including some educated and disgruntled naval officers from the British and other fleets.

This was also during the time of Spanish wealth and the arrival of ruthless merchant captains from many different lands. In addition to the burdens placed on the people by foreign entities, they now had to endure the murder, rape and kidnapping of their men, women and young children to serve these merciless men on board their ships; their people were never returned. When their usefulness was over, they would be killed and disposed of in the oceans of the world or abandoned in some foreign land to fend for themselves.

During this time, a small and secret organization was created by a group of daring, dedicated young men of Sicily to protect themselves and all they cared about from this new danger. Among them were small businessmen, farmers and average countrymen who had suffered a loss at the hands of these men themselves, or had seen their friends suffer. This group with no name became so successful at dealing with the islanders’ problems that, within twenty-five years of its existence, the murder, rape and kidnapping had all but come to an end. Most of the charter members of this small band of men had now become wealthy landowners or wealthy businessmen. The new security the islanders had come to know and enjoy now needed protection. With that goal in mind, the secret group enlarged and became even more powerful and secretive.

By design, there was no name for this secret society because it was not needed. If it had no name, it was harder to refer to; and was harder to label. Only a handful of powerful men knew everything about its operations. These men performed the required duties; they did so without asking questions. Directives were given and orders were followed to the letter—upon penalty of death.

Over the next three hundred-plus years, the group became extremely successful. In fact, so much so that, by the eighteen hundreds, as happens with any large corporation, it began to protect itself against conflict and dissension that came from within. In so doing, each segment of the organization became greedy and protective—just as any large company that does not want to surrender its sole domain.

As suspicion of each other and the seeds of greed set in, the group started fracturing and smaller groups emerged. The amount of land each powerful owner possessed would determine a group’s strength. These pieces of land became known as providences. In turn, the small towns within these providences would be given to a trusted member of a wealthy landowner to supervise and rule. By this point, there was immense respect for this secret organization among the islanders, especially by those who were not involved. The judgments and demands placed on the islanders were tolerated and honored with the utmost in silence. When this silence was broken, the offender would be disposed of, never to be heard from again.

In general, when the people of the island witnessed something that was out of the norm, something they did not understand, they would turn a deaf ear and their backs to it. They offered complete submission and dedication to their protector—the organization that they did not want to know anything about. Often, their relatives were part of it, but its existence was never mentioned.

Unofficially and unspoken, a vow of silence was taken by all. Within this silence, a sense of trust and faith came to be formed. These people knew that they were being protected by their own, something that their ancestors had never known at the hands of others.

During the second half of the nineteenth century, places such as Ellis Island opened its gates to the world. From places around the world, such as Sicily, came good, hard-working people. These people not only wanted to get away from the need for this secret organization, but they were people who earnestly wanted a real change. They wanted a chance to change their existence and better their lot in life. In addition, there were young tyrants who could not make in-roads in their native Sicily, but had the vision to see the possibility for protection rackets of all types in this new country. They mingled with the decent people and were accepted at the gates of this new country.

It was back on this Island of Sicily that a child was born whose life would be altered by events beyond his control; events that would take him to the other side of the world, only to end his life with the same lot he would have acquired had he never left his homeland.

This was the world, as Cheech knew it; this is his story.

Chapter 1

The date is March 16, 1891. In the small farming village of Caltagirone on the southern side of Sicily, a child is born. It is a ten-pound male and the seventh son born to Pasqualina and Joseph Caruso. He is named Francesco after his grandfather on his mother’s side.

Joseph and Pasqualina were married late in their lives, for the times, and it is important that they have many children as soon as possible, especially sons. In order to ensure the continuation of the family farming business, the male offspring is needed more than the female births. The Carusos have been blessed in this way by having had only two daughters from nine births. However, with blessings come curses. The curse to this Sicilian family seems to be within the first six male children. Not a one of them has shown the leadership or the fortitude to be able to handle the rigors and trials of the family business.

Now in his mid-forties, Joseph is already in poor health and prays that this latest child will be the one to take over the business. Surely, his own time as the master of the family business is ending; soon he will have to make a decision as to which of his sons will take over. If the Lord has just a little mercy on this hard-working man and his family, this decision will come to pass in an easy manner. It takes years to train someone to run the family business and those years are slipping away.

The Caruso farm is on twenty acres and has been in the family for over a hundred years. It is in the fourth generation. This land was purchased by Great-Grandfather Caruso and handed down to his son who, when the time came, handed it down to one of his sons, of which he had two. By the time he was ready to hand it down, he had trained his eldest boy to take charge. This was Joseph’s older brother.

Michael was well suited for the business. Unlike Joseph, he was fearless and aggressive by nature. In the mid-eighteen hundreds, these were valuable character traits to have during this unstable time in Sicily. Although this fearlessness and great aggressiveness were necessary to one’s survival and Michael did have these assets in a big way, he also had one fault. He was not able to back away when the odds were against him. He would fight to make his point at any cost.

What Michael did not understand was that the people who are angry with you are not really the people who must be watched; it was when they came to you with a smile and often an embrace. You needed to watch those who negotiated with you, not those who stood their ground and fought you.

In the environment at Sicily at this time, it was best to honor and respect the proper authority. That authority in Sicily with respect to the Caruso family business was the local padrone. It was with his blessing that your business flourished. Grandpa spoke to the padrone on a number of occasions with respect to Michael and his attitude. At times, he even spoke harshly to Michael himself, but to no avail. The padrone would try to be lenient with him; but Michael would not return the respect.

Eventually, to preserve the status of his own position in the community, the padrone could no longer allow Michael’s behavior. Not even one single farmer was allowed to exhibit this kind of behavior; if one got away with it—others would try. Despite Grandpa’s efforts on behalf of his eldest son, the natural heir to the family business, the padrone, with great regret, had to act. In his own defense, he had no choice in the matter.

One day, Michael left with a shipment of goods, and was never heard of again. In due time, there was no doubt as to what had been his demise or who had brought it about. There was no recourse; not if Grandpa wanted to keep the family business intact within the family. There were laws and certain procedures had to be followed, not set by the Sicilian authority, but by the padrone and the group. Although Michael had many qualities that endeared him to the local padrone, he was far too aggressive and lacked control. His actions led to carelessness, which meant he was not suited to be a leader (Mafioso) in this group.

Because he wanted to be enlisted into the padrone’s group so badly (or perhaps he did not understand or see the danger ahead), Grandpa’s handpicked heir to the family business was no more.

Realizing what had occurred, Grandpa had to bite his tongue. In a respectful and submissive manner, he went to see the padrone with gifts of reconciliation and with the hope that the padrone would allow him to continue with the business, which this powerful man allowed.

After the loss of Michael, who had been Grandpa’s first choice, only one option remained, and that was Joseph, the remaining son, the only hope to save the family business. At first, Joseph resisted the efforts of Grandpa to train him. It was not because his father’s first choice had been Michael but simply because he did not want to be a farmer. Eventually, Joseph grew to understand that without his cooperation, the land owned by the Carusos would be lost forever.

During the years that it took him to learn the business, Joseph had little time for finding a wife and making a life for himself. Grandpa arranged for Joseph to marry a neighboring farmer’s daughter, whose father was also a friend. Her name was Pasqualina Diliberto. Around the time of the marriage, Joseph came to realize that his life and destiny were no longer his own. He had the responsibility of a business he had never wanted, or intended to have, and the needs of the family brought about by the death of his older brother.

Joseph was not like Michael yet, in time, he just seemed to fit into his new role. He learned the different aspects of the business and took over the entire effort. The padrone and everyone Joseph had dealings with respected him, unlike his older brother.

It is many years later when Joseph finds himself in essentially the same position that Grandpa found himself in after the death of Michael. He is now approaching the age when he cannot continue working the business. Unlike his father, however, he has seven sons. Six of which he is positive are not qualified or able to manage the business; he does not yet know what the last one will be like. Each of them brings his own quality to the table but none of his sons has all of the necessary traits to be successful. If this latest child is like his older brothers, Joseph will be forced to find the proper combination of sons that could do the job. Knowing that Pasqualina is fast approaching the time when she cannot bear children any longer, he is becoming concerned that none of his boys will be able to deal with all of the issues associated with the management of the business.

With the birth of Francesco, he hopes that this new son will be the answer. The pressure on Joseph increases when his wife tells him that she, indeed, cannot have any more children. To their surprise, there comes an unexpected and last birth, but it brings a disappointment to Joseph because it is a girl. Two years after Francesco’s birth, little Lena is born. Although hopeful that it would have been another healthy son for her husband, Pasqualina accepts the little female bundle far better than Joseph. After nine months of hoping, he is both visibly and vocally disappointed.

With many years to wait until he could know what kind of young man Francesco would be, Joseph’s concern grows so greatly that his other sons can see that he is not hoping or planning for one of them to take over the reins. This initiates some resentment on their part toward Francesco. At first, it is not apparent; eventually, it grows to such a point that it will have fatal consequences.

As the years go by and as Francesco grows up, it becomes clear that he is different from his brothers. Not only is he strong for his age, he tolerates brotherly roughhousing, and with no crying. Many times Francesco laughs at his brothers, even though he is over-powered and physically hurt. He is respectful to his mother and father to a degree not exhibited by any of his other brothers. He is very protective of new younger sister, Lena, who will come to realize there is nothing that he would not do for her.

At four years of age, Francesco starts singing. He was humming to himself almost from birth it seems, and he starts mimicking words to songs he would hear. The Italians are a ‘singing’ people and their lives are full of music. After listening to the melody only one time, Francesco is able to repeat it with no trouble. He sings aloud, unconcerned as to who is around even in a large gathering.

Francesco would sing Lena to sleep on many nights. As it became a ritual, the family would listen to it from their beds. They would hear him leave her bed, run to his room, and climb up to the top bunk. This is how they would fall asleep, on many occasions. Lena would try to fight sleep, but she was growing so fast she would just fall asleep. In the morning, she would arise, looking for her older brother.

Francesco had celebrated his fourth birthday. He has won favor with both his mother and father with his pleasant attitude, and is beginning to be called Cheech or Little Cheech, the Italian nickname for Francesco.

Joseph speaks to his wife Pasqualina. Cheech has shown an interest in joining me on a delivery. I will start bringing him with me on some of my shorter trips. Who knows? Maybe they will let us cross free if he sings a song for them. I asked him if he would sing for the guards and he said he would.

Please be careful, Joseph. If anything were to happen to Cheech, I could not take it. He is so young and he is special. He reminds me of Michael, your brother. I know I never met him but when Cheech sings I think that’s what Michael looked like.

My wife, I wish you had not said that. Please do not repeat it again. We don’t mention my brother’s name!

Joseph, I know how you feel but Cheech is not like Michael was. I know how you feel about your brother. Cheech is not Michael; he is far more respectful. He is Cheech … your youngest son, not Michael. He would never do the things Michael did.

However, Pasqualina, please do not speak about this again. We don’t need to burden him with a curse like that. I hope he never learns of Michael. It almost killed my father. I have enough problems.

"Next week, I have a short trip over the padrone’s land. I will bring Cheech with me and see how it goes. Cheech will be fine and we will be back by nightfall. Then we will have a better idea of what we can expect from him."

Just … please; be careful, Joseph!

I will, I will be careful.

Working on the wagon that is used for deliveries, Joseph turns to see little Cheech running towards him.

Papa, can I go with you?

Cheech, I’m not going anywhere! Papa needs to do some work on the wheels so the wagon don’t break down on the next trip.

I know, Papa; I want to go with you on the next trip, please!

Joseph stops what he is doing and looks back at the house, then back to his little son.

I see. Mama told you, didn’t she?

Well, Papa, I would like to go with you. Please, I want to ride on the wagon, on the seat. Can I hold the reins?

Cheech, you’re only a little peanut! You’re not strong enough to hold the reins. These are big horses, my son! Cheech’s little face turns to a frown. Joseph softly replies, "I tell you what we do. You sing for the padrone’s guards when we cross his land and on the way back; I’ll let you try to control the horses—a deal?"

Papa, thank you. I will do that. I love you! As quickly as he appeared, he is gone—headed back to the house to tell everyone who will listen.

The time has come and Mama has packed a special bundle of food, wine, and water for two of the men in her life, Papa and little Cheech. With the horses and wagon ready and loaded, Pasqualina accompanies them to the barn.

"Papa, please be careful. You, little man, listen to your father. You come home safe to me. Gabish?"

"Si, Mama, I will listen and learn!"

Joseph looks at his wife. I will be careful. We will come home safely. I’ll be alright, Cheech is with me!

Mama looks at her husband, understanding that Joseph is playing with her. She gives him a somewhat worried, yet kind smile. You know what I mean, Joseph!

Pasqualina kisses Joseph and Cheech. With a helping hand, Cheech climbs up onto the passenger side of the seat. Joseph climbs up, takes the reins and with a ‘yep!’ they are on their way. Looking back over their shoulders, they both wave to Mama standing in the entrance of the barn.

When they reach the top of the hill, Papa stops the wagon and Cheech jumps down to open the gate that will take them off their property and on their way. Joseph drives through the open gate and comes to a stop. Cheech closes the gate behind them and hurries to join his father on the wagon.

Let’s go, Papa! He tells his father this as he climbs back up.

We’re on our way, Little Cheech! Let’s go. We have things to do; you and me. With a snap of the reins, the horses start their trip at an easy walk. No need to rush the animals, it is only a fifteen-hour trip; they will be back by sunset.

Three hours into the trip, they are approaching the crossing station at the property of Padrone Francesco DePaolo. Knowing that the sound of a human voice travels great distances in this valley, Joseph turns to his son.

Cheech, sing for me!

Now, Papa?

"Si, right now!"

Okay, Papa, I sing!

Throwing up his little arms, he starts singing. He sings a traditional Italian song, then songs he has learned at home with his parents; he goes through his small collection of songs. He sings until Papa asks him to stop as they come closer to the gate and the guardhouse.

"Basta, Cheech, that’s enough for now. Grazia, my boy."

As the wagon comes to a stop at the gate, two men come out of the little shack and greet Joseph.

"Ciao, Joseph, how are you today?"

Smiling, Joseph reaches out for a handshake, "Bene, bene, all is well. Let me introduce my new partner; my boy, Cheech!"

Shaking hands with Joseph, one of the men walks around to Cheech’s side of the wagon. You are Cheech?

"Si, signore! My name is Cheech. I’m four-years-old! Come sta?"

"I am bene, little boy!" The two guards start to laugh at the spry, little child.

Was that you singing back there?

"Si, signore, that was me. Papa sings good, but I sing better. Do you sing?"

Of course, I sing! Would you like to hear me sing?

I would like that. Sing, please!

Clearing his throat, the man starts his song and Joseph and little Cheech listen to him.

As the song ends, Cheech starts to clap his hands; Joseph joins him. Cheech tells the guard, "Bene, bene, that was nice; signore, very nice!"

Acknowledging the compliments, he turns to Cheech, Now, it’s your turn. Now, you sing for me, little boy!

"Okay, signore." Cheech tells him. With no hesitation, he climbs onto the wagon seat and stands up. In an instant, the little four-year-old child starts singing and for the next hour, there is singing, clapping and drinking.

Cheech is used to moderate drinking of wine at home, but this is different. No one has stopped him and he starts to get dizzy, causing him to fall backwards off the seat and into the wagon.

From either side of the wagon, the two guards reach into the back of the wagon to help him up and everyone starts to laugh.

Little Cheech is drunk, Joseph!

Joseph smiles, "Well, maybe a little bit. He’ll be okay.

We have time before we get back home for him to work it out of his system. He will be fine! You okay, Cheech?"

"Si, Papa, I’m fine, I just slipped and they all start laughing."

Thank you, Cheech; that was beautiful. Will you sing for us again sometime?

"Si, signore; anytime you ask. Just ask!"

"Bene, come on, pass through. Be on your way."

Joseph thanks the men and they wave to each other as the wagon passes through the gate.

As the wagon rolls away, Joseph turns to his little boy. Cheech, today you made me proud of you. You are a good little boy, a special child; the things you say and do please Papa and Mama.

Cheech just smiles at his father as Joseph gently pats him on the back. Joseph had hoped that Padrone DePaolo would be at the crossing; this time he was not.

The small guardhouse disappears in the distance. The wine is working on the little boy and Joseph tells him to climb into the back of the wagon to get some rest.

"My Little Cheech, you learn your first lesson. If you are going to drink when you are delivering goods, take just a little. A man with a level head can make enough mistakes even without too much vino. You make a mistake and you can’t get home. Where do you go for help? Nowhere … there is nowhere!"

Okay, Papa, I will remember. Cheech falls asleep.

Upon reaching their destination, Cheech wakes up to Papa’s call.

Wake up, partner. I need help!

Somewhat hung-over, he is slow to respond, but soon the wagon is unloaded and they prepare to return home. Joseph drives the wagon out of town and they stop under a shade tree to have a bite to eat.

While Papa prepares the food that Mama sent with them, Cheech feeds oats to the horses and makes sure they have some water. He cups it in the palms of his hands.

As they finish their meal, Joseph asks Cheech, You okay to do this now? I mean, you’re not drunk anymore, are you?

No, Papa! Cheech laughs, I’m fine!

While cleaning up and putting everything away, Joseph gives Cheech some instructions. In a flash, Cheech has the reins in his hands and Papa is the passenger in the wagon.

With a gentle snap of the reins