by Weston

My family background is rich with heritage from many cultures, one of them is Sicily.  This is one story of one group of ancestors who came from one specific location many years ago.  It’s a story of immigration, hardships, and overcoming obstacles but it’s also a distinctly American story, one that a large majority of people here can identify with.

It’s the story of how, in 1889, my great-grandfather, along with his parents, some siblings, and other relatives boarded a ship from Sicily to New Orleans and immigrated to the United States..  They eventually settled in Galveston County, Texas in the La Marque/Texas City area.

My great-grandfather Gioachino “Jack” Pizzitola

Background

In February 1883 in the small town of Bisacquino,  Sicily,  Gaetano and Anna Pizzitola, had a young son whom they would name Gioachino Pizzitola.  Eventually, his name would be mixed up… possibly at immigration… and he would go by Jacquino or Jack for short.

My great-great grandparents: Gaetano and Anna Pizzitola

At the time of his birth Bisacquino had about 10,000 residents.  Jobs in the small, hillside towns that dotted the area were scarce and the entire island of Sicily was in the midst of incredible turbulence.  In 1861 the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies ended and all of Italy became unified with Sicily becoming part of the nation of Italy.  Over thousands of years throughout Sicily’s history, the land has been conquered by every major empire that had a powerful influence in the Mediterranean:  Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Spanish, Vandals, Ostrogoths, Byzantines, and the Holy Roman Empire.  This constant turmoil would come to a head around 1850 when thousands of Sicilians would begin immigrating to the United States to escape poverty and find work.  Bisacquino would eventually lose half of its residents over the years to immigration.

My grandfather

Jack would grow up to have 13 children, including my grandfather Jack, Jr.  My grandfather and four of his brothers would fight in WWII for America, with my grandfather’s brother Max giving the ultimate sacrifice for his country.

After the war, my grandfather would change his name from Jacquino Pizzitola, Jr. to James Ludeke, Ludeke being his mother’s maiden name.  We were never 100% sure why he changed his name, if he simply wanted to Americanize it or if there was a deeper reason.  We do know that he also lost his best friend, James Luna, in the war effort.  Perhaps he chose the name James to honor his fallen comrade.

My gramps eventually moved from the Houston area to start his own farm in Burkburnett, Texas, just shy of the Red River that separates Texas and Oklahoma.

The Pizzitola brothers:  (L to R) Steve, Otto, Max, Jack Jr., and John.

Houston

I’ve always been very interested in my family’s history.  My grandmother Joreen, James’ wife, is our family historian of sorts who has kept detailed information about who our relatives and ancestors were and where they came from.

Born in Ft. Worth, I moved with my family from Texas to Springfield, Missouri when I was seven years old.  I always had a longing to return to Texas, I’m not sure why, but I just missed living in a big city.  My chance came after graduating high school to attend the University of Houston.  I was ecstatic, I was able to move far from my hometown and go to school in the forth largest city in the country.

Upon arriving at UH in the Fall of 2004, I soon would find out from my grandparents that I had some Great Aunts, James’s siblings, who still lived in the Houston area and that I should meet up with them.  Two of my grandfathers’ sisters, Martha and Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s husband Dudley, picked me up from the dorms at UH and showed me around town.  They took me to where the old Pizzitola family home was and also took me to Galveston my first time.  They even showed me where my great-grandfather Jack ran a produce stand on The Strand section of Galveston.

Soon I began to feel right at home in Houston.  I’m not sure why, but in the seven years that I lived there I felt like I had been there my entire life.  Most visitors won’t notice it on the surface, there’s no giant touristy attractions like a Fisherman’s Warf or Sixth Street that makes every guest to the city love the town.  But, it’s there… something under the surface in Houston that makes it the best city in the country.  The people, the food, the culture, the fact that Houston is looked down upon by outsiders yet could care less what anybody else thinks.  Something about the city gets inside you after a few years and you never want to leave.  Outsiders will never understand and that’s precisely how us Houstonians want it to remain.

James Ludeke (formerly Jack Pizzitola, Jr.) with his bride, Joreen Kocurek. Sept. 6, 1947

Why Sicily?

As I felt a growing closeness to my ancestors who had settled in my new hometown, I began doing lots of research into the Pizzitola family history and into the island of Sicily.  What I would find would never cease to fascinate me, a very unique and complex island full of over 3,000 years of history.  A place that lost nearly 40% of its inhabitants since 1850 to immigration, yet was still full of everything from ancient Greek ruins to the largest and most active volcano in all of Europe.

I knew one day I would have to visit this strange, far off island.  Soon after getting engaged in 2010, Gaby and I made the decision to honeymoon in Sicily.  I’d never left North America before, but we both knew that after our wedding May 2012 would be a better time than ever to make the journey.

In Closing

One of my favorite authors tells a story of an ancient Samurai who has passed away. In the immediate aftermath, his grave had many people coming to visit and pay their respects. Over the years, fewer people would come until eventually enough time had passed that nobody remembered who he was and no visitors who come to the grave site.

Almost all of us will suffer this fate, forgotten by history and by our decedents over a long enough timeline.  For now, the best we can do is remember those who came before us, remember the hardships they endured, and never forget the obstacles they overcame to give us a better life.

Jack on the back left with his sons on the farm.  My grandfather is on the bottom right.

Jack and his wife Anna

Jack in later years (second from left) with three of his brothers.

Jack Jr.’s ID photo in case of capture during WWII.

Jack Jr. and Max on leave in San Antonio during WWII. Grandma Ludeke in tears as they departed.

Done with the family history?  Click here to Check out the view from Palermo!