My grandfather died in July of 1974 of a massive heart attack. My mother was 17 when he passed. His name was Enrico Bardelli or Henry Bardelli jr. His father, Enrico Bardelli Sr., was born and lived in Sesto Calende, Italy in the Lombardy regione. His wife, Maria Varalli, was born in Mercallo, just outside of Sesto Calende. The family history/story is that the Bardelli family owned a tree farm on the current Milan Malpensa Airport land. Enrico Sr. was said to have been friends with iL Dulce himself Benito Mussolini. He left the land to his mother and left for America with his wife. His mother gave the land to iL Dulce to use for military land during World War Two. Now, you ask yourself why I am putting this into this blog. Well, my group will be landing at the Milan Malpensa airport from Paris. I will be landing on my ancestors land. This is a surreal moment! I do have a lot of information to back this claim up. I want to visit Sesto Calende to learn more about them. I never knew my grandfather nor did my mother well enough in the 17 years she knew him. One of the reasons why I chose to come on this trip especially is because of the trip to Milan. I wanted to understand the regione of my grandfather and great-grandparents. I feel that traveling to this area will give me the chance to understand the man I was never given the chance to know.
 |
| I altered this photo. When I first took this photo I was so taken by the little boy's face focusing on the candle flame. I wish that it was just the boy and his father since of the people in the background. This photo looks like an old advertisement add. The photo was taken in the famous Cathedral. |
We landed in the middle of a thunderstorm. When the plane wheels touched down the plane skidded to one side. A panicked grasp for the nearest arm rests was triggered. We had to run off the plane and onto a bus to be shuttled to the main terminal. We were meeting Sara, Danilo's new assistant for the Castel Gandolfo Walsh Campus. She was going to be our guide for Milan. We walked through customs and no one stopped us. I wanted a stamp in my passport. I felt like a child when first told that Santa really isn't real. I mopped up my tears and continued on to meet with Sara. Sara told us that we had an hour ride on a bus into the city. I didn't realize that this airport was so far away from the city of Milan. I asked Sara if it were closer to Lago Maggiore and she said yes, about 5 miles away. Holy Crap, I am walking on my family's land. Sorry, it just hit me that I had finally come to my grandfather's land.
While on the bus I told Sara the story of my great-grandfather as a little boy would sneak onto the trains and travel into Milan to see the Operas with his friend. When he left for American he received a pair of opera glasses from his friend as a memorial to the trips to the Opera. My mother still has these opera glasses. The story behind these glasses is that Mussolini gave him these glasses. They do date from around the turn of the 20th century. My great-grandfather came to America in the early 1900's. We do not have any time to see any opera but I am fascinated with the thought that I am taking the same path into Milan as my great-grandfather did as a little boy.
We arrived to the hotel and Ron asked if anyone was hungry or wanted a drink. The hotel recommended a small cute little restaurant/ club where we could grab sandwiches and a drink. We sat down around a round table and started chatting about the day. It has been exactly 1 year since I have stepped foot in Italy. It has been one year since I have heard the passionate language swirl around in my ears. And I am loving every minute of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment