Francesco Bararareale Research Paper

1652 Words4 Pages

Growing up in the small fishing village of Giovenza, located on the heal of Italy’s boot, Francesco Camporeale was taught the back breaking work of the town’s trade. His childhood virtually non-existent, he was out at sea for days at a time with the hopes of having a plentiful harvest to help his family put food on the table and clothes on their backs. His life was no different than his father’s or his father’s father, but nobody expected that it would be – except for Francesco. Like generations before, a wedding was arranged and by the age of seventeen Francesco was married to Deloris with the expectation of spawning the next generation of fisherman. Francesco, however, had other ideas. He dreamt about the riches promised in the new world, …show more content…

She quickly learned the language of her schoolmates and became a sponge for everything American; the movies, the Brooklyn Dodgers, and Coney Island. She had an insatiable appetite for discovering this new world which remained a foreign place to the rest of her family. It wasn’t long before Clotilda assimilated into her new found world. She quickly became absorbed by the American culture, but continued to maintain two lives. She was the only American in her family. While the “Old World” traditions of fresh fruits and vegetables, walking the neighborhood and opera ruled her life at home, the “New World” order of fast food, big cars and rock & roll dominated her daily life. It was a constant struggle for Clotilda to navigate between these two worlds. When they collided, it often had disastrous effects, which is always magnified in the life of an adolescent. Clotilda reached her teen years generally unscathed but the trough between her “Old World” and “New World” lives continued to grow deeper and wider. Her brothers, more than 10 years her elder, made frequent visits to the local candy store where she would hang out with her American friends. With broomsticks in …show more content…

After stopping in Cannes, Naples and Gibraltar, the ship headed out past the Azores for the nine day journey to New York. Life on the ship was enjoyable: Campari in the bar, poolside lunch of melone con prosciutto, aromas of pesto, garlic and espresso. The voyage had been routine, nothing making it any different from any of the previous fifty trips the ship had made to New York. The night before their arrival in New York, Clotilda could hear the ship’s foghorn bellow every minute or so. She was in her room packing her belongings and rehearsing what she would say if, when she eventually saw John. Then it happened. A thunderous noise radiated through her cabin. The Stockholm had left pier 97 in New York earlier that morning and was well away from New York by evening, cruising ahead at top speed. Disintegrating as it penetrated, the bow of the Stockholm ripped a hole in the Upper Deck of the Andrea Doria from cabin 42 back to cabin 58. Stunned, she raced out of cabin 77 expecting to see down the ship’s long corridor. Instead she saw twisted metal that outlined a gaping hole through the boat’s exterior. Acting on pure adrenaline and instinct, she fetched

Open Document