Author: Madeleine Regan

Some years ago, I felt an urgent need to put together a brief history of our family before age dimmed what I had heard and what I remembered so that future generations would know something of their Veneto roots.  With the help of three other members of the family we compiled a pictorial family book with some information of our family tree.  The following is a short summary of what I wrote in our family book.

My two brothers and I are the last of the Rebellato family, of our branch at least, to have been born in Castelfranco Veneto.  We have researched our family origins and were able to go back as far as 1720 with records showing that our ancestors were born in or around the Castelfranco Veneto area. My father Rino was born in 1913 and my mother Livia Guidolin (born in Salvarosa of Castelfranco) in 1919.

Although the fields they worked were adjoining, divided by a small creek only, our parents did not know each other until my father met my mother after a church service in her town.  The war prolonged their engagement, which lasted 11 years, and they were able to marry at last in 1946.

Their wedding was a quiet and sad affair as the Rebellato family had lost 2 members in the war and one other returned home with a debilitating illness.

I was born in 1948, closely followed by two brothers – Ferruccio in 1950 and Pietro (Peter) in 1951. My place of birth was in the farmhouse in what has to be one of the most beautiful estates in the area – the Villa Bolasco Revedin.

Our house, which was only a few hundred metres from the piazza Giorgione of the moated city of Castelfranco, was old with no running water, inside toilet, bathroom, indeed any comfort. But as our place was part of the estate owned by the Conte Bolasco we children had free rein to enjoy the the gardens and surrounding woods of the Villa.

I do remember growing up and playing in the adjoining park, rolling down the verdant arena surrounded by many statues, dabbling with sticks in the small man-made lake, hiding in the boathouse, waltzing among the flowers in the fiorita (the beds of blooming flowers) and tip toeing through the classical conservatory of the villa.  In spring, the park was a carpet of perfumed violets and our family was the one that carefully lifted and then loaded baskets of moss in December to take to the church of S. Maria della Pieve, for the base of the presepio, which was very grand, the whole town of Bethlehem in fact was set up, all lit with tiny lights and with moving figures etc and we children were wide-eyed with wonder.

My parents were share farmers and worked so very hard for very little.  Nevertheless, they were content with their lot as they later learnt how to grow the most beautiful, prizewinning radicchio castellano (which was transported and even served in the finest restaurants of Vienna) and thus boost their income considerably. Unfortunately, no sooner were they able to lift their heads and agree that they were on to a good thing, the owner of the land sold the portion worked by my parents to the Comune of Castelfranco to build the new hospital.

We had to leave.

My father wanted to move to Lombardy, a hot spot for the industrialisation of post war Italy, and where some relatives of my mother had recently settled (and later became quite successful in the fields they had chosen).  However, my mother was encouraged by her siblings, her eldest brother who had come to Australia in 1926, the second brother in 1939 and lastly her sister who had arrived in 1955, to migrate to Adelaide.  They told us there was plenty of work here and the possibility of a good future for the children

We left a very cold, snow covered Castelfranco on the 9.00 pm train bound for Genoa on 24^th February 1956.  What a sad parting!  My beloved grandmother was distraught as were our other relatives.  We never saw some of them again.

We sailed on the Fairsea and after an uneventful journey (despite the seasickness) arrived at Port Melbourne on Friday 23^rd March and left by train the following night.

We were welcomed at the Adelaide railway Station on 25^th March 1956 by my mother’s two brothers and sister and their families.

My parents’ first impression of Adelaide was that it was much smaller than they had envisaged and everything low lying and plain.  Life was easier for them here with food plentiful and oh, the abundance and cheapness of sugar!  This had been a luxury in Italy.  We had as much as we wanted and it is a wonder we have reached our senior years with our own teeth!

 

We lived for a year at Norwood in the home of my mother’s younger brother, then my parents bought a maisonette at Mile End in which we lived for 5 years and where we welcomed the last born child, another boy, Enio, in 1957.

 

A large, comfortable home was bought in 1962 in Rose Street, Mile End to accommodate the now six-person family.  We lived many happy, laughter filled years there. We attended the local Catholic schools and my father worked for the Adelaide City Council as a gardener.  We grew, joined the workforce and made many friends.  Our parents joined the Trevisani Association and our father played bocce at the Veneto Club every Sunday afternoon.  They also enjoyed two wonderful trips back “home” to meet up with their dear ones.

Although they never regretted their move, in their last years of life both our father and mother agreed that if they had their time over again they would not have left their country and kin.  Indeed, conditions had improved so much in their homeland that there was no need to move elsewhere.  As they aged and because they both had never mastered the English language, they sometimes felt excluded and in their infirmities, anxious, when unable to understand their medical providers.

It was after we all married and left home that the parents made their final move – to Airdrie Avenue, Seaton “to be near the church and the Italian priests”.

Good health did not follow our dear father to this last residence.  After 4 years of being practically bed-ridden he died in 1988.

Our mother, however, saw all her 9 grandchildren and the first two great-grandchildren and for the most part enjoyed good health.  She died in 2012.

 

My brothers and I all live in the western suburbs with our spouses.  Most of our children are married and so far, we have a combined total of 8 grandchildren.

WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED!

 

Anna Maria Rebellato. All photos supplied by Anna.
23 October 2022

 My father, Pietro Berno, migrated to Adelaide in 1927 at the age of 18. At that time, he was underage. He followed his two elder brothers, Fedele, who arrived in 1925 and Alberto, in 1926.

I often wonder what it was like for a young lad that left a small country town in Italy, Riese Pio X, where he was born and had lived all his youth.  Travelling in 1927 was an adventure. The ship, ‘Palermo,’ that took him to Port Adelaide offered very little luxury, if any.

My mother Antonietta Pastro, married Pietro in 1948 in their hometown, Riese Pio X and then she followed Dad back to Adelaide. Her voyage was a little more comfortable, and she could count on her husband to provide for necessities, guidance, and help. Bearing this in mind, I would like to compare my experience as an immigrant many years later, to theirs.

All our family migrated to Italy in March 1969, after my parents’ decision to return to their homeland and retire. This trip on the ship ‘Marconi,’ was very comfortable and as a 15-year-old, I had a ball. It wasn’t like Dad’s trip in 1927 in third class that lasted almost 6 weeks. He was on his own, whilst I was surrounded by family comfort.

The voyage in 1969 from Adelaide to Genova (Italy) took 27 days, and it was a one-month family holiday. We enjoyed the wonderful services that you receive on modern day cruises. When the ship docked in the intermediate ports, we would take the excursions for sightseeing. In Durban, we were taken to a Zulu village.

 

 

In Naples (Italy) we visited the famous Pompei ruins. All for me was extremely exciting. In Naples we also received a surprise visit from my brother Robert, who then was already living in Italy, attending University in Venice. He came with six relatives from Veneto, and they travelled with us on the “Marconi” from Naples to the final destination Genova.

Once in Riese Pio X, everything was very new to me. Suddenly, I could spend time with many relatives I barely knew and had never met.  I was quite happy to settle down in this small country town and I got acquainted to my new life. When Dad first arrived in Adelaide, he did not speak English and had very few friends. Most of his time in those early years was spent working. Shortly after their arrival in Adelaide, Dad and his brother Alberto, worked on market gardens in and around Lockleys. First, they were employees under the farmer and later, as market gardeners on their property.

Due to circumstances such as World War 2, Dad and Uncle lived together from 1927 to 1947 without any family except for themselves. Finally, after 20 years of hard work, first Dad, and then Uncle Alberto, returned to their small town, Riese Pio X, to marry a local girl.

 

In my new life in Italy, I had it much easier. I was on holidays until October 1969 when school started. In a car accident my mother suffered severe spinal damage. Life was no longer as pleasant. Because of my poor Italian language and literature, I was relegated to 2^nd year high school even though I had been promoted to Year 11 in Adelaide. It was a family decision to send me back to Adelaide to finish the last two years of secondary school, after which I enrolled at University in Padova (Italy). In this manner I gained two years.

In January 1970, I flew back to Adelaide on my own, to begin Year 11 at St Michael’s College, Henley Beach. I stayed with very good family friends, Antonietta and Aldo Baldan in Flinders Park. They were my santoli (or godparents) and so once again my life was very comfortable. I was back in my birthplace with people I knew, going to my school and with all my schoolmates. However, there was a similarity to my parents’ experience as migrants.

At a young age, I was separated from the rest of my family for 2 years. As it was for them, I had to communicate with my family via letters. Telephone calls were a costly luxury, rarely used. I wrote a letter almost every week to Mum, Dad, my brother, and my sister, sharing with them my thoughts and my feelings, my joys and my sorrows. In the same way, my parents would send letters to their families in Italy during their years of life in Adelaide. This fact made me appreciate more fully the meaning of being an immigrant on your own. Even though I lived my time away from my family in a much more comfortable way as compared to Mum and Dad’s years, I still experienced being homesick, as often as it probably was for them.

I am very grateful for those years because they taught me many things about my father and my mother. I understood how it was for them in Adelaide their new home. They had to adapt to a completely different environment and make it as comfortable as possible for the family they were bringing up. I could see why they were so close to the other Veneto families that lived in the Lockleys area. It was like creating their small hometowns in the new country.  I will never thank my parents enough for all the good they did for us their children.

 

Remo Berno
9 October 2022

Photos supplied by the Berno family.

Thank you to Raoul Pietrobon for contributing this blog about the links between his mother and a paesana (a woman from the same village) – in Salvarosa, near
Castelfranco Veneto  in the province of Treviso.

Maria Ballestrin (nee Dotto) was born in 1914 in the village of Salvarosa (now a Frazione of Castelfranco Veneto), just 49 kilometres from Venice. The culture of the village was friendly, and every family had a nickname, or a sopranome, that was used more often than their surname amongst the villagers. The Dotto family sopranome was Ortolani, linking them to the vegetable gardens they maintained.

My mother, Rita Amabile Favarotto, comes from the same village of Salvarosa and lived across the narrow Via Scuole from the Dotto family. Their house wrapped around one corner of a wide T-junction which prior to the 1960s, saw very little vehicle traffic. This junction was used as a small piazza, shared by the surrounding families and nostalgically called la bea venesia (translated as the beautiful Venice). Children from the nearby primary school regularly played in the open space and older people would stop and talk or tell stories. Occasionally a herd of animals would pass through on the way to nearby farms as the area was heavy with agriculture of the times – cows for milk, pigs for meat, maize, tobacco and grapes.

My grandmother Ernesta Gazzola, married into the Favarotto family in 1932, and got to know Maria Dotto (who was of a similar age) shortly before she married and left for Australia. Ernesta became a good friend of Maria’s mother and siblings, as well as the adjoining neighbours of the Dotto family.

 

Vito Pietrobon, my father, was also from Salvarosa and emigrated to Adelaide, South Australia, in 1953, sponsored by an older cousin who had come earlier. Along with his eight siblings, Vito had heard many stories while growing up, about the wonderful people and land of opportunity in Adelaide. Gildo Pietrobon (his father) had temporarily come to work in Adelaide in 1927, aboard the ‘Re D’Italia.’ Gildo had come to earn his fortune, leaving his pregnant wife and child in Italy for four years. This was a recognised practice of the time in Italy, when farming the land was not providing enough income and he wanted to purchase the land his family was working on in Salvarosa.

Vito had similar ideas of a better life and was able to save money for a car which was vital for his work as a cement and concrete worker. He established himself in the north-eastern suburbs of Magill and Campbelltown, where many Veneti were located.

 

In 1959 when my mother, Rita Amabile Favarotto (Mabie), emigrated and joined my father in Adelaide, Ernesta wrote a long letter to Maria, asking her to look out for Mabie should she need help. When she did arrive in Adelaide, Mabie wanted to see familiar faces and people to help orient herself in the different landscape. Having a car in Italy at that time was still a rarity for some migrants but she was glad Vito’s work, hard though it was, afforded them this ease of transport. Although she had never met Maria before then, she felt immediately comfortable in her presence. Having grown up with Maria’s family in close proximity, she recognised her mannerisms, expressions and way of speaking.

In the coming years, Mabie looked upon Maria as a ‘mother figure’ and would often ask for advice on why recipes weren’t working, where to find certain food items and about life in Australia. She even preferred and used Maria’s recipes for crostoli and frittole (fried sweet biscuits and dumplings) over those of her mother, much to Ernesta’s chagrin.

 

Vito’s business grew, and so did the family with three boys soon keeping Mabie busy – Raoul (1960), Michael (1965) and Angelo (1969).

 

 

In 1971, Ernesta came to Adelaide to visit her family and was happy to be re-united with Maria as well. In the many trips to visit one another, they updated on what was occurring in Salvarosa with details that written letters couldn’t capture. It was during one of these trips that Maria and Narciso Ballestrin recounted how they met.

When Narciso was a single man, he had met a farmer who had an unmarried daughter and the family lived in Salvarosa. He visited a couple of times to get to know them and become acquainted with the woman. The houses in the area were built sharing common walls and driveways, and little fencing. The familiarity of everyone meant the neighbours were often visiting each other in the evenings to share stories. This is how Narcisio came to know the neighbour’s daughter, Maria Dotto. He quickly realised he preferred her company and turned his attentions to her. Once he became serious with Maria, he stopped visiting the original family – and the courtship with the daughter next door ended.

At this point of the story, Ernesta laughed and cried out aloud ‘No wonder!’ All this time (38 years, by then) she had wondered why the two neighbouring families bore ill feelings and had stopped being as friendly with one another. Now she understood that Narciso’s decision to court someone else had caused a rift which soured the relationship between those two families. Ernesta thought it very funny that she only could find the answer to the mystery, not in the close-knit community of bea venesia, but in the Veneto area between Frogmore and Findon Roads, 15,000 kilometres away! Maria and Narciso were market gardeners in that area and part of the community of Veneti who lived and worked there.

My family kept in close association with the Ballestrin family. Narciso and Maria were godparents (or santoli) to my brother Angelo and I was fortunate enough to have them attend my wedding in 1987. Vito and Mabie continued to see them, sharing time in paesani weddings, holy feast days (or sagre) and social events at the Veneto Club.

 

 

 

Mabie has now moved to a Bene nursing home where she enjoys the company of other people who can’t remain independent. We occasionally change the photos on her walls to spark conversations and give her a different perspective. One photo frame she won’t change sits on her bedside table, showing an image of her parents in Castelfranco Veneto and a cut-out of Maria (Dotto) Ballestrin.

 

Raoul Pietrobon
25 September 2022.

Photos supplied by Raoul.