This is a mash note about the New York Public Library and my uncle John A. Troisi. I adore them both.

In 1970, at age 77, on the occasion of his 50th wedding anniversary, my mother’s (and John’s) 8th-grade-educated, Italian-born father, my grandfather Domenic M. Troisi, wrote a memoir (in his second language, English) which he self-published for the family. As the family’s self-designated genealogist, I’ve been tracking down additional details of his story.

He emigrated from Naples in 1907 at age 13 and lived for 10 years in New York, before moving to Williamsport, Pennsylvania (for a job, which he secured through an interview in New York), where he married, raised his children, and remained for the rest of his life. Most family members still live in Pennsylvania, and Domenic’s early years in New York are nearly forgotten. One of several grandchildren who “came back” to New York, I have been filling in the story.

Domenic was a tailor and worked in garment factories in New York City. It’s hard to picture now, but off-the-rack garment manufacturing was one of New York’s largest industries in the early 1900s.

Domenic wrote that there was a general strike of garment workers (which I confirmed happened in January 1913), and, as shop foreman, he reported to the union hall on the first day. Impatient with wasting his time sitting around (I guess they weren’t required to picket), he left the hall to enroll in a pattern making course, which would qualify him for a job that paid better than sewing after the strike was over. We have his diploma from what he called “the Mitchell School.”

I wondered if I could find out more about the school, which has been out of business for decades, and I was successful.

Started in 1873, the trade school was reviewed favorably by both the U.S. and New York State departments of labor (in 1902 and 1908) and was respected by garment worker unions.

It was owned by the Jonathan J. Mitchell Co., which also published garment industry trade magazines (which ran advertisements for the school), sold branded tools (more ads), and ran or supported “cutters clubs” around the country, which were social organizations for graduates of the school, giving Mitchell’s people activities to report in the magazines and allowing them to keep tabs on successful graduates who might hire other graduates.

It was a soup to nuts networking operation!

Domenic also reported in his memoir that he kept up with his new trade by reading technical magazines at his “second home,” the (newly opened in 1911) New York Public Library “Technical Room.”

Question: There’s no room with that name today. How could I locate it?

Answer (from a retired librarian—thank you, thank you, Rita Bott!): Room 121, now called Local History and Genealogy. I know it well: I’ve spent hours in that room researching Domenic!

Next thought: Domenic probably read Mitchell’s magazines, having just graduated from his school, and if the library subscribed to the magazines in the 1900s, they probably still have them today.

I checked the catalog for the years I estimated Domenic was reading, and bingo, there they were: The American Tailor and Cutter.

So I called in a few issues from deep storage and phoned Uncle John: “Would you like to meet me in Room 121 of the New York Public Library and read magazines together which your father read 100 years ago?”

The immediate reply: “Yes!”

Uncle John came to the city, and cousin Mike Arney came down from the Bronx to join us in the venture.

The main content of the magazines was patterns for contemporary clothing, by staff and guest writers.

As we paged through Volume 36, No. 3 of November 1914, there was…

…a pattern by Domenic Troisi!

Nobody in the family ever knew! Domenic started his own clothing store in Williamsport in 1919, and several family members later worked in it, including John. Though John worked side-by-side with his father for more than 30 years and knew his tailoring career well, John didn’t recognize the magazine and never knew about this published pattern.

I pointed out that, though bound in a set, the magazine we were handling was the library’s actual 1914 copy, not a facsimile, and Domenic probably sat in this room 100 years ago fingering these very pages to savor his accomplishment. We cried.

Here’s a video.

Thanks owed: to Mike Arney for losing sleep, literally, to join us, and for shooting the better part of the video, and to my fabulous nephew Brendan Doonan who fixed the parts I shot, which were even more terrible than what you see in the finished product, if you can imagine. (Brendan “stabilized” my shaky hands and “re-rotated” where I turned the camera vertically as if I were making a still photo—amateur.) Too bad there is no fix for my blurry focus and our stage-whisper voices (trying to not get booted out of the library), but Brendan pointed out that Uncle John’s “Holy shit!” is pretty awesome, so there’s that.

Church of Our Lady of Peace, 237 East 62nd Street, New York, New York

Bad news. The painting of the Madonna and Child behind the altar in this church on East 62nd Street in New York City is by Donatus Buongiorno. It’s been in the church since the early 1920s. The Archdiocese of New York is closing the church. I don’t know what will happen to the painting, but I’m in touch with a woman from the parish who is still fighting to keep the church open. Read about their appeal to the Vatican in the accompanying article.

Update, November 2017: Trip scheduled for October 29-November 2, 2018. Those are the core dates for visiting Naples and Solofra. Many of us will arrive earlier and stay later. All options are available. Let’s talk!

Domenic Troisi came to the U.S. from Naples in 1907. It’s time we go back.

Who wants to go to Naples and Solofra in 2018 with me and Julie?

I need some relatives with me whose passports say “Troisi!” “Carapellucci” is Abruzzese and won’t impress Neapolitans.

We are going in late October/early November of 2018, after the summer season (hence less costly and less hot), probably for two weeks. Julie and I will research family haunts in Naples and Solofra (churches, art academies, galleries, museums, places our ancestors lived) and act as tour guides.

Plus we’ll visit other must-see history and art that isn’t necessarily family related, such as Pompeii, Capri, archeological museums, “creche street” where Neapolitan Christmas decorations are made, etc.

Not to mention…pizza. Famous Neapolitan pizza. And coffee. Lots of Italian coffee and other goooood food. We are talking about Italy, remember?

Personally, I don’t travel to shop or go to beaches or clubs, but don’t let that put you off. We don’t have to all hang together 24/7 like a Japanese bus tour. All preferences can be accommodated!

Note to certain cousins who are musically inclined: Naples has a very active “world music” scene. I recommend John Turturro’s movie Passione to get you started.

Naples is a world-class city, 4,000 years old, founded by Greeks, and, until the 1800s, a major trading center of the Mediterranean (along with Athens, Cairo, etc.) and the largest, most international and, arguably, most sophisticated city in Italy.

Over the centuries, the city has been ruled by the Romans, French (Normans and Angevins—who are the source of the name Troisi), Spanish (Aragonese and Bourbons), and since the unification of 1848, newly designated “Italians.” In a country whose only stable government since self-rule began in 1848 was the 20 years of Mussolini’s Fascism (so, not exactly a bragging point), how anything actually “runs” is a bit of a mystery. If you’re a “city collector,” as I am, all this history adds up to “must see.”

There are no direct flights to Naples from the U.S. off season, so it is easy to add a few days in Rome to an itinerary, if that sweetens the deal.

See downloadable PDF flyer here for more details about my ideas.

Julie and I are both experienced budget travelers who are willing to coach others. If you’re interested at all, get in touch with either of us and let’s see what we can work out.