- HOME
- This Just In
- Bonus
- sessions
- Blogs
- Events
- social
- Video
Nikki M. Mascali
My beloved Pop-Pop was named Saverio. He was 100 percent Sicilian, and I absolutely loved spending time with him. His parents were from Palermo, Sicily, and he used to say that when I graduated from high school, he would take my mother (his daughter) and I to the “mother land.”
Sadly, he died when I was 13, so that trip never happened. Instead, I was left with a million pictures and memories of our short time together. I really do miss him every day and know that when I finally do set foot on the land his parents Margherita and Vincenzo came from, he’ll be there with me.
I am so proud of my Sicilian — and on my father’s side, Italian — heritage. I love hearing stories Mom tells me about him and his life in Newark, N.J., before he moved to NEPA way back when. I especially love hearing about how he was with my brother and I, his only grandchildren.
One of my favorite anecdotes: In my grandparents' huge yard was a gloriously beautiful tree my brother and I constantly climbed — though we were told explicitly not to do so. One day, I fell out of it and banged myself up pretty good. Pop-Pop immediately ran over and comforted me. Ten minutes later, he cut the tree down.
(There are two photos that remain of this tree, one with my brother and I in it and one without. Honestly, the yard never looked the same again.)
I never realized how in touch with my roots I wasn’t until I worked on this week’s cover story about St. Ubaldo Day’s Festa dei Ceri in Jessup (read it here: http://www.theweekender.com/cover/A_tale_of_two_cities_05-19-2009.html).
From beginning my research to sitting in the living room of Carole Coccodrilli, the public relations chair for the St. Ubaldo Society, to hearing her speak of past Festas and how connected she is to her roots in Gubbio, Italy while we sat among her many artifacts and photos to when we clinked a glass of Limoncello, my heart broke a little.
It broke because while proud of who I am and who I came from, I don’t really celebrate that heritage as much as I should, like the people of Jessup so vigorously will this weekend.
I don’t know a whole lot about my great-grandparents. I’ve never seen the land they came from. I’ve not been in contact with any of Pop-Pop’s family “from Jersey.” As much as I wish I did, I don’t speak the language, as Coccodrilli so deliciously does. So can I really say that I honor my family’s past?
At the Weekender, we write so many stories a year on just about every topic you can imagine. Sure, some are more enjoyable to write than others, but every so often, you come across one that moves you immensely.
For me, this week’s cover story did just that — and then some. I can’t wait to attend the Festa dei Ceri Saturday and then begin looking into my heritage.
It’s never too late.
About the Author
Nikki M. Mascali began her career at the Weekender as an intern in 2005 - and holds the honor of being the oldest intern the paper ever had. She received her degree in journalism from Luzerne County Community College in 2007 and joined the Weekender staff full-time in 2006 as staff writer/designer before becoming associate editor in 2010. In March 2011, she was named editor.
Nikki has interviewed everyone from Gene Simmons to Richard Simmons, and her articles have run the gamut from local and national theater to music and in-depth reports on the radio industry and negativity in NEPA.
Nikki enjoys writing, quoting movies, traveling and being a diehard foodie - which is why she pens our weekly food and drink column, "Dish."
Archives
|