Amazing What Comes Out in the Wash
So in the course of filling out funeral paperwork, I needed to find out what Angie's father's name was. Angie and my grandmother were sisters and they were born and grew up in a small town in Sicily called Castrofilippo. Over the years, my mother had often mentioned her grandmother (Angie's mother) but I don't recall her ever talking about her grandfather, so it wasn't a surprise that when I asked her his name, she couldn't remember. Apparently, he'd died before she was born and she'd never known him.But then, out of the blue, she started telling me the most bizarre story--that the reason she didn't talk about him was because he'd been killed. Shot. Apparently over something the family owned, some property or something. The details got fuzzy from there, and my mother wouldn't say any more--typical Sicilian--but, uh, seriously, what the hell? Why didn't she ever tell me this before? I swear, if that were my grandfather, I'd tell everyone. In fact, I am telling everyone.
Hey everyone, my great grandfather was the victim of some turn-of-the-century Sicilian vendetta killing. How fucking cool is that?
posted by Andrea Kail at
12:24 AM
3 Comments:
Doesn't this mean you should be seeking revenge on the person that did it? What kind of Sicilian are you?
Roger
PS. If you arent willing to kill the person who killed your great-grandfather, maybe you could at least mock him severely on 'Late Night'
Not so cool for him.
That's life with the Mafia.
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