Saturday, June 29, 2013

The Storm

by G. Jack Urso
 

the silent do not cry

when they curl up to die

or sigh somber whispers

with weary-worn eyes

 

when we take our last breath

where our souls sank and slept

what hours will appear

when our lives come to rest

 

i cry with the sky

when thunder breaks high

lightening traces passages

where souls are sure to fly
 
                         
© Copyright 1995

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Audio Documentary — News from the Front: Memories of a World War II Refugee

by G. Jack Urso

News from the Front: Memories of a World War II Refugee is an audio documentary prepared for a class in Producing Historical Documentaries for Radio with Professor Gerald Zahavi at the University of Albany while working on my master’s degree in 2000. This production presents the viewpoints of my mother, Maria Rose Sartorio, who lived in Nazi-occupied San Piero Patti, Sicily, during World War II, and that of Frank Neutts, who served on the staff of Major Gen. Fred L. Walker, U.S. 5th Army, which participated in the liberation of Sicily.

Sound clips from the classic documentary series The World at War provide narration by Sir Laurence Olivier and quotes from General Mark Clark that put the experiences of the two interview subjects in the context of the larger historical events taking place in Italy in World War II. Transcript follows below.

Transcript

The World at War — Narrator: Winston Churchill once told Stalin the Mediterranean is the soft underbelly of the crocodile. Churchill and the British Chiefs of staff were sure that attacking German-occupied Europe through Italy would help shorten the war

The World at War — Gen. Mark Clark: I can see him now at his map and his persuasive way with his pointer, pointing out the soft belly of the Mediterranean and after we got in there, I often thought of what a tough old gut it was, instead of the soft belly that he had led us to believe.

The World at War — Narrator: That was General Mark Clark, who led the American 5th Army in the invasion of Italy during. World War II.

G. Jack Urso: Sixty-plus years after it began, for most people, World War II is remembered mostly through ubiquitous cable channel documentaries, old films airing on late night television, or perhaps more recent Hollywood features like Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan, and U-571.

For me, World War II has been experienced through the eyes of family members who fought on both sides of the war. My mother, Maria Sartorio, was raised in Sicily before and during World War II.

Maria Sartorio: I was born January 25th, 1936, in San Piero Patti in provincial Messina in Sicily.

G. Jack Urso: Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a close friend, Frank Neutts, was growing up.

Frank Neutts: I was born on January 30, 1919, in Carbondale, Pennsylvania.

G. Jack Urso: During the NATO air war against Serbia, along with millions of other people around the world, I watched the long columns of the Kosovar refugees make the perilous journey to I'll equipped relief camps. The footage brought back especially strong memories for my mother. For her, as with many survivors of war, the psychological effects can last a lifetime.

Maria Sartorio: It wasn't a pretty sight. Sometimes I have nightmares of what went on. I remember one particular time your father took us to Wildwood, New Jersey. We were at the beach —, my first experience, good thing I had a babysitter to watch you guys — and all at once there was a formation of the airplanes coming. Do you think I was thinking of you guys? I just started running to the house and I kept screaming. I was running up the street, screeching, “They're coming! They're coming!” And the landlord says “Maria. What's the matter?”

I said, “The Germans, the Germans are coming! They're going to kill us!”

And she literally shook me, she says, “What Germans?”

I said, “There's planes at the sea, you know, at the beach. They’re gonna kill us!”

And she said, “Where are your kids?”

That stopped me from screeching. I forgot to the kids at the beach.

And she says, “No, it's the Coast Guard maneuvering over the beach. They're not enemies. They are Coast Guard. They're one of us.”

I have nightmares of the airplanes going by to this day.

G. Jack Urso: While Italy suffered under the German presence, America was preparing for the inevitable invasion. Frank Neutts, then a young man in his early 20s, served as a stenographer under General Walker as part of the US 5th Army that would invade Italy at Salerno.

Frank Neutts: I was drafted into the army and entered active service on May 5th1942. I was assigned to the 143rd Infantry Regiment. A vacancy occurred in the Adjutant General's Office for a stenographer. I applied for the position and got it I was transferred to the commanding general, Major General Fred L. Walker. He was later assigned to the Infantry School at Fort Benning, Georgia, as commandant. I joined him at Fort Benning around September of 1944.

G. Jack Urso:  As a young man from Carbondale, Pennsylvania, the war presented Frank Neutts with the opportunity to serve his country and see the world an entirely different set of expectations and experiences than for my mother.

Frank Neutts: Yeah, I often think of things that occurred to me in Italy that I experienced, the places I've seen. Being in the position I was in, I was able to get into the Vatican in places where the rank and file couldn't get, and I enjoyed all that and I enjoyed the . . . places I've seen, which I probably would never have seen had it not been for the war.

G. Jack Urso: In the course of his duties, the young GI had a rare opportunity for an audience with Pope Pius XII. The wartime pontiff's actions during the war have been the subject of ongoing debate. Many suggest that he could have done more to speak out against Nazi war crimes.

Frank Neutts: He's being criticized for not doing enough, but they don't realize that he did help something like 300,000 on the QT.  His hands were tied. He couldn't — if he if he took an open stance on that, you know what would happen? They would line up these civilians and . . . and shoot them down like . . . like cattle. I thought in my own mind, and from what I know and read, I thought he handled it well. He was able to free a lot of those civilians.

G. Jack Urso:  There had been support among the civilian population for the fascist regimes, Frank Neutts and my mother tried to explain their appeal.

Frank Neutts:  Mussolini was admired in a lot in Italy before the war. He did a lot for the Italians, but once he became part of the Axis Pact with Hitler, he lost all good that he did. They [the Italians] had no use for him. They considered him a puppet of Hitler, and that was it. It’s too bad, he spoiled everything he ever did for them.

Maria Sartorio: Well, there’s a good side of Mussolini, and there's a bad side of Mussolini. We were very poor, and he did a lot of good till the war broke out and I, I don’t know, he went crazy himself.

G. Jack Urso: During the war, members of my extended family served in the American, Italian, and German armies. My Italian grandfather discovered he had a German half-brother by accident when he received someone else's mail while both were interned at an American POW camp.

Maria Sartorio: So, he went back . . . this was while he was in prison [the Allied POW camp], and the guy [the Allied officer] looked it up. He says that, “We have two Sartorios here,” so he called the other guy. My father says, my name is Mario Sebastiano Sartorio,” and he says, “My name is Sebastiano Sartorio.”

So, my father, he says, “Well, you're German.” And he [the German soldier] says, “Yeah, you're an Italian.” He [her father] asked him, “Who was your father?” and he said, “We are brothers!”

And this is how my father found out that there were twelve brothers!

G. Jack Urso: While researching my family history, I discovered my grandfather, despite his experience in the war, or perhaps because of it, was a life-long admirer of Adolf Hitler.

Maria Sartorio: Even here in America, he kept saying the greatest speaker was Hitler, how he shook the world when he made that big speech in the square or in the balcony, he would get right in the middle of the living room floor here in America and he put his hand and he start shouting, going through the motions of how Hitler made that kind of speech. He [her father] was terrifying. I’d say, “My God, he was a maniac. What’s happening?” I would run. I would go upstairs and just stay in my bedroom [and say], “My God, he's going crazy.”

G. Jack Urso: Despite the Hollywood movies that seem to portray all Sicilians as peasants, my mother's family in fact was well off. They own two large homes and three farms. However, German foraging and theft robbed them and other Sicilians of their food. As a result, 1943 to 1945 were years of starvation.

Maria Sartorio: The Germans took everything that we had, and I remember one particular time, we were fourteen families and we had two loaves of bread and the bread was stale. You know what my mother did? She got a big, a big bowl of water. We had to boil the water, that's why the water was hot, and she got the two loaves she would cut into slices, and then the slices into strips and pass out to everybody and this bowl was full of warm water [crying] and we dunked our bread in the hot water. and put in our mouth and, and we that's the only way we could swallow the bread.

G. Jack Urso:  Anything about what the Germans did that still stands out in your mind?

Maria Sartorio: Well, I think that there were cowards. You know, we never looked in the face [of the] Germans because we were scared, we never knew what they looked like, all except they were mean, you know, and we never looked at them.

World at War — Narrator: Sicily, as agreed at Casablanca, covers the next item on the agenda. Only two months after the German collapse in Tunisia, the British and Americans began landing troops on Sicilian beaches.

G. Jack Urso: The Germans retreated from Sicily in such a hurry that they left behind mines and munitions that fell into innocent, unsuspecting hands.

Maria Sartorio: When the Germans left, we went to where the Germans were camping and left all this equipment — dark bread laying around, ammunition — we didn’t know as kids what these things were, but a lot of kids got blown up. Even . . . if we walk around that camp, there were mines in the ground. Us kids didn’t know. I was always the last one in line. I wanted to go, I wanted to see the excitement, but I was scared and a lot of my friends just “Psst!” [Maria Sartorio makes a sound to indicate that some of her friends were blown by the leftover munitions and mines].

G. Jack Urso: As the US Army occupied Italy, Italian American GIs were often called upon to help the local population even when loyalties were still divided.

Frank Neutts: We were occupying the mayor of the town's villa there in San Prisco. This is right outside of Naples.  His wife was a very staunch Catholic. He was a Hitler sympathizer. He was a Nazi, through and through. So, she wanted to have a mission at the church there. So, two guys came to me and asked if I couldn't get a transportation to take them to this place up in [unintelligible] up in the mountain, this monastery, and bring a missionary down, which I did. She was so thrilled and pleased they couldn't do enough for me.

G. Jack Urso: If the Nazi presence brought fear and intimidation, then the arrival of the Allies certainly generated relief and gratitude.

Maria Sartorio: Americans, they were there were our friends . . . they were our angels.

Frank Neutts: They greeted us with open arms and they were very good to the GIs. They couldn't do enough for us. They were relieved to be out from under the German presence there and they were so thrilled at their newfound freedom that they couldn't do enough for us.

G. Jack Urso: World War II as an epic, almost mythical quality about it that seems to grow as years go by and the participants begin to pass away. As a reporter, someone who uses words for a living, I am reminded that the destruction of World War II began not with the shot, but with the word.

[Ends with a segment of Adolf Hitler giving a speech before an applauding audience.]

Note: Since the original production of these interviews in 2000, and the publication date of this article in 2013, Maria Sartorio, my mother, passed away at age 78 in 2014 followed by Frank Neutts at age 96 in 2015. Information about my grandfather's service in the Italian army in World War II can be found at Aeolus 13 Umbra  Photo Unknown: Italian Army Unit Circa Early 1940s.

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Sunday, June 16, 2013

The Prison Chronicles: Inmate Art

by G. Jack Urso 


The art below was created by an inmate in a higher education program who was inspired by several of my poems.  

Click on picture for larger image, click on link for original poem:  
"When Death Comes." Inmate art by Michael A. Nieves, July 22, 1994.
Author’s collection.
 
"Wolf 359." Inmate art by Michael A. Nieves, 1994. Author’s collection.
 
"The Grey Man." Inmate art by Michael A. Nieves, 1994.
Author’s collection.

"Could I Not Move Like a Clock."
Inmate art by Michael A. Nieves, 1994.
Author’s collection.
 


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Friday, June 7, 2013

The Prison Chronicles: No Way Jose

by G. Jack Urso


 
Jose was one of my first students in the college program I began running at Hudson Correctional Facility in 1989. My first impression of him came the first night of the Spring 1990 semester when he skipped class, claiming to be ill. I went to his cottage to deliver his books to him and the correctional officer pointed down a short hallway to his dorm room. I went and found him and several other inmates smoking a joint.

Jose looked at me like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Everyone went silent.

“Uh . . . ” he muttered, “Want a hit?”

The other inmates broke up laughing. I declined his gracious invitation and never reported the incident. I couldn’t fault them for finding some solace from being in the can.

Jose was incarcerated for raping a minor. Rumors are a dime a dozen in jail, but the word was the victim was a child under 12. There is a common perception that child rapists are tortured in prison by other inmates. While that may be true, I never saw any evidence of it. Most inmates are simply not willing to risk their “good time” satisfying the need for justice of those who put them behind bars. If someone does get attacked, it's often for reasons other than their crimes. Jose quietly completed his degree and then transferred to another facility.

A couple years later, Jose transferred back to Hudson looking about thirty pounds lighter. Jose was somewhat slight to begin with, so the weight loss was noticeably unhealthy. His brown skin seemed paler, his eyes watery.

Entering my office, Jose seemed anxious to speak with me. I thought it curious because I seldom spoke to Jose when he was a student. He had me pegged as an over-educated college boy too nice to drop a dime on him when I caught him smoking weed in the dorm room.

He closed my office door and told me that he had AIDS, and he was dying.

I was stunned; no one had ever opened up to me like this before. My role was as an academic advisor, not a therapist. I advised students about which courses to take and which majors to declare  questions about life and death were not in my job description.

With all the counselors on staff, I wondered why Jose elected to tell me. He was not in the college program anymore and, as I previously stated, I had little interaction with him while he was a student.

I read Randy Shilts' massive book, And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic. Indeed, it sat on a shelf in my office when I took over the job. A compelling mystery, I read it on lunch breaks and between programs several times.  A family friend died because of AIDS-related complications so I had some sympathy most, at the time, did not. In the early 1990s, fear ran rampant about the disease. People feared being touched by someone with AIDS. HIV-positive children were driven out of their schools and communities. For someone like Jose, a child rapist, exiting the world at this time was going to be a long, hard journey.
"Could I Not Move Like a Clock?" Inmate art by Michael Nieves, 1994.
Author's collection.
Inmates seldom ever speak about their crimes, and while Jose seemed to want to speak about the weight of his life, he was unable to do so. Perhaps the fear of being rejected by even the too-nice-for-his-own-good college kid held him back. I felt a like a priest being asked to give last rites.

There is a secret fantasy I think we all entertain when contemplating our own shuffling off of the mortal coil just who will miss us when we are gone. For someone like Jose, who burned many bridges in his life, those numbers were few. Even though my relationship with Jose was minimal beyond my role as an academic advisor, I think he wanted to know there were people he had to say goodbye to even if no one would miss him.

Speaking with Jose, it became clear that he was analyzing his life in an entirely different light since his diagnosis. I could sense the regret he felt for not being more aware of the pain he caused others until now, when there was nothing he could do about it but just lie down and die.

I know there are many reading this now who feel Jose’s condition was the result of him sowing the seeds of his own self-destruction and whatever lonely, pathetic death he suffered was just reward for the crime he committed. I can't say such thoughts did not also cross my mind.

Nevertheless, looking at Jose and seeing the whole weight of his existence settling in on his shoulders and pushing him into the ground with each passing moment, I figured he didn't need me to tell him what he already thought himself. Overwhelmed by the whole tragedy, I could only embrace Jose and wish him Godspeed.

I never saw him again after that. According to my research, Jose died about eight months before his next parole hearing and exactly one month before author Randy Shilts also died of complications brought on by AIDS.  



 
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