The Italian Genealogy Goldmine: "Wedding Packets"

I've shown you how to dissect Italian birth records, Italian death records (twice, in fact), and Italian marriage records before.

But I promised to explain the treasure trove I call Italian "wedding packets". (Maybe these exist for other countries, too!)

If you're researching your Italian ancestors, and you're lucky enough to find your ancestral hometown's records in the Italian genealogy archives (Antenati), then you have access to the wedding packets.

On the Antenati site, you'll find different kinds of "matrimoni" documents for each year.

• First comes "Matrimoni, pubblicazioni" which includes the two times a couple had to publicly post their intention to marry. The first record may not tell you anything more than the names of the groom and bride and both sets of parents.
  

  

  First notification of intention to marry.

  The second record provides ages, occupations, places of birth and/or residence. If the bride or groom is widowed, you may also get the name of the deceased spouse.
  

  

  Second notification of intention to marry.

• Second is "Matrimoni" which adds the date on which they were approved for marriage (think of it as a marriage license date), and the date they were married in church. Sometimes you'll also find the names of the priest and witnesses.
• Third comes "Matrimoni, processetti"—my favorite! This wedding packet can contain many pages. It starts with a birth record for the bride and groom. If either is a widow, you get the deceased spouse's death record. Then there is a death record for any of their parents who have died. This, of course, can tell you the names of the bride or groom's grandparents. If the father of the bride or groom has died, and their grandfather is not alive to give his permission for the marriage, then you'll also see the grandfather's death record.
  

  

  Groom's first wife's death record.

Groom's father's death record—giving me the names of my 4th great grandparents.

The best-case scenario is an older couple, both widowed, and both with no living parents or grandparents. I've had wedding packets provide me with one or both spouse's great grandparents' names!

We're lucky because in the old days, no one stayed single. If their spouse died, they absolutely remarried—sometimes again and again. Life was too hard not to have a partner.

How to Use a Paper Trail to Recreate Your Ancestor's Life

I *might* remember a long drive from New York to Ohio to visit my great grandparents when I was 5 years old. I *might* have a single image in my mind of great grandma's kitchen. But that's it.

Before I began researching my family tree, I knew next-to-nothing about my great grandfather Pasquale Iamarino—or Patsy Marino, as he was known. He lived in Ohio and worked for the railroad. Nothing more.

Genealogists enjoy piecing together our ancestors' paper trails and mapping out their locations. If we're lucky, we can wind up with enough facts to bring our ancestors back to life in a way.

Italian church records from the 1880s told me that Patsy and my other paternal great grandfather were 2nd cousins. A ship manifest told me that Patsy came to America at age 20, heading first to his uncle in New York City.

Four years later, in 1906, he was working for the Erie Railroad in Steuben County, New York. In the rail yard he must have met the Caruso brothers who came from a neighboring town in Italy.

By late 1906 he married the only sister in the Caruso family, in Hornellsville, New York. Hornellsville was a boom town at that time, achieving city status that year, thanks to the railroad.

When my grandmother Lucy was born in 1908, Patsy and his little family lived at 95 Front Street—a short walk from the railroad station. (I paced up and down in front of that house on a visit in 2015.)

I stood beside this rail yard in Hornell, New York, in 2015, imagining my great grandfather's life.

Between 1910 and 1914 Patsy moved to Albany and continued working as a railroad laborer.

Then, suddenly, in 1918 Patsy was in Youngstown, Ohio, and registered for the draft. Did he move to keep his job?

He was a boilermaker for the Erie Railroad, working in the railroad roundhouse, according to the 1920 and 1930 census.

City directories show him on Dearborn Street in Girard, Ohio in the early 1930s. This is the house I feel as if I remember.

By 1940, at the age of 58, Patsy retired. I'm closing in on 58 and wish I could retire! But my dad recently told me that Patsy had to retire because of lung issues. Did all those years cleaning out coal-burning engines give him something like black lung disease?

My great grandparents, before I was born.

According to the International Brotherhood of Boilermakers, "Railroad Boilermakers service and repair locomotives, and manufacture parts, including hundreds of items used every day in the railroad industry. They also perform welding on tracks and general maintenance work."

With today's worker safety rules, a boilermaker probably isn't at any risk of lung disease. But something incapacitated Patsy in his fifties. He lived to be 87 years old, enjoying free rail travel.

During his long retirement, Patsy enjoyed tending to his garden and his roses at the house on Dearborn Street. I wish I could remember him.

Searching for the Missing Link in Your Family Tree

My father's parents were third cousins. That was a bit of a surprise, but not a shock because they had the same last name.

All of their descendants have been great students and done well for themselves. No harm, no foul.

This past holiday weekend I began going through the vital records I'd downloaded from the Italian archives for my ancestral town of Sant'Angelo a Cupolo.

My goal: figure out if my great aunt Stella was related to her husband Attilio who had the same last name as her.

Attilio's 1924 passport photo.

This is an interesting family, and it became more curious as I sifted through the documents.

Carmine and Maria Rosa were married in Italy and had 3 babies. Carmine was "absent in America" when the first child was born, and he'd gone back and forth from the Bronx to Sant'Angelo a Cupolo many times. He was naturalized as early as 1899.

In 1904 Carmine and Maria Rosa and two of their children (the third must have died) came to America. While they lived in the Bronx, they had two sons, Enrico and Attilio, in 1906 and 1907.

I know from his passport papers that Attilio went to visit his family in Italy in 1924. On his application he stated that he had been in America ever since he was born in 1907.

But here's the shocking part.

Carmine and Maria Rosa went back to Italy as early as 1915, leaving young Enrico and Attilio behind. They had another child in Sant'Angelo a Cupolo in 1916.

There is no evidence that they ever returned to America, despite the fact that Carmine was a U.S. citizen.

If the parents left America in 1915, Enrico was nine and Attilio was eight. Enrico went to see his family when he was 17; Attilio went a year later when he was 17.

Meanwhile, I cannot find the boys in any census records until they are grown men.

Who was caring for the two boys?

I searched for families that had the same name as the boys' mother—dell'Aquila. I'd hoped to find them as part of an extended family household where they were receiving the full benefit of their U.S. citizenship.

But I can't find the boys anywhere.

Unless more vital records are put online, I can't find out who Carmine's parents are. I can't tell his exact link to my bloodline. But in such a small town, I don't think there was enough room for unrelated families with the same uncommon name.

I'll keep on piecing together the entire town of Sant'Angelo a Cupolo and hope I can find the missing link.