The Goat Sleeps in the Kitchen: The True Story of an Amazing Woman; Maria Insalaco Reina

Foreword

When Joe Reina told me, he was writing a book, my first reaction was Really, when do you have time? But as Joe moved closer to his version of retirement, I realized he did have some time and when he said the book would be about family (which he calls the clan) and centering around the life of his mother, Maria Insalaco Reina, it made perfect sense.

Joe and I met by chance almost twenty years ago when his office building and my photography studio were around the corner from each other on Randolph and Washington Streets in Chicago. Two fellows originally from Saint Louis became friends. Over the years we would get together for lunch or he would stop in the studio to talk about one of my projects, or a business deal he had in the works. We shared ideas about books, economics, politics, current world events. But we always seemed to circle back to family, history, and business. At the time I had no idea he would write a book that combines those elements in the story of The Goat Sleeps in The Kitchen. Through the chapters we see how his mother instilled in him, and the entire family the basics of entrepreneurship, and the will to seize a chance when others do not recognize the possibilities. Her keen mind and resolute spirit, when odds were clearly against her, were combined with fairness and always integrity.

Because Joe sets the scenes in detailed historical context the reader can appreciate the resilience of a diverse family that faced adversity together as a family supporting each other and following Mrs. Reina’s vision for their successful future. She had the courage to leave a small village in Sicily for an uncertain life in America. The Goat Sleeps in The Kitchen is a story of a proud family legacy and is a fascinating read!

David Phillips

Maria Insalaco Reina

1893-1991

Dedication

Thank you to Virginia Reina Maniscalco and Josie Reina Mocca for being my secondary mothers, they gave me their undying love, and never gave up on me.

Acknowledgement

The long-awaited writing of this story became a reality with help of some exceptionally good friends, family members, and associates. Some that knew my mother and some that had heard of her from me, and others, about her. They encouraged me from the start to tell the story, and they were there in the early days when I began writing, pushing me to just write! I was told most books about early twentieth century people were primarily about men. At the top of the list is my cousin Hugh Ingrasci, he helped me develop my style, and especially helped form the early stages of the story. Paul Juettner, my good friend and attorney, guided and encouraged me. He set up guidelines to assure I would not fall into any legal traps, and read the entire manuscript, then asked questions to insure I had not made any legal errors.

Early on, the first author I interviewed was Adrian Windsor, she shared great advice about what to do, and what to expect, and because of that I became driven to get the story told. There is no way to thank my dear friend and photographer David Phillips, who took small photos, some that dated to the ’20s and were in bad condition, and he miraculously brought them back to life. I spent hours with him as he readied over a hundred photos for publication. Patricia Benesh, the owner of Author’s Assistant, helped me take a bunch of chapters to manuscript, patiently, yielding to my demands of her undivided attention. She got the message early, that I am not the most patient person in the world! Without her this book would have been written but would have been a long drawn out bunch of words. Thanks to my niece Susan Reina Gerke for allowing me to use her story, Turkey and Dressing Optional, which not only described the feasts of Joe and Josie Mocca’s thanksgiving dinners, but truly describes the festas the clan enjoyed! I will be eternally grateful to Michelle Holmes at Covenant Book Publishers for her help at every level of taking the manuscript to print, editing, page design, cover design, the guidance from her has been incredible.

And then there is my wife Laurie, who has the patience of Jobe in dealing with me. I was confused when I began writing, and she went online and sent me how to articles about writing which really helped alleviate the confusion. She tolerated my frustration in those early days and kept me from throwing in the towel. She gave me the idea of using a timeline to tie into the original outline prepared with my sisters and helped me with suggestions on various chapters. Finally, she took the chapters and did the grammar and spelling corrections and put them in some semblance of order.

As has always been the case in every business venture we entered, she has been the wind beneath my sails, and has handled my Sicilian emotions, like the trooper she is.

Prologue

This book is based on a true story about an amazing early twentieth century woman. She stood out in a crowd of very good friends and relatives from the same small town in central Sicily called Casteltermini. She found herself in a forced marriage and endured more traumas in the first few years of the relationship than most women go through in a lifetime.

This is the story of a significant but little-known segment of a twentieth-century diaspora. It was not a societal dislocation after a forced exile like the Israelites scattering after their Babylonian captivity but a mass exodus from Europe by some huddled masses yearning to be free. This oppressed group fled the dire poverty of Sicily and southern Italy—a subsistence lifestyle that subsidized the owners of the coal mining industry and early American factories. For roughly sixty years, 1860 to 1920, Sicilians and Italians fled their bleak living conditions, the hope of earning a humane, livable wage for themselves and their children.

At that time, the US population was largely split, a great many living on farms and in rural areas, while the factories were springing up in the cities creating a need for laborers. Many Americans were reluctant to work in them because in most cases, the machinery was dangerous and lacking safety features.

The work was tedious, labor intensive, nine to ten hours a day, six days a week, for very low wages, and the factory owners were vigorously seeking help from Europe. This ushered in the immigration, especially so in the later part of the nineteenth century.

The situation was different in the coal mining industry; the mines were usually in small unheard of towns with little or sparse housing. It forced the coal mining companies to make accommodations, building crude, barely livable houses and company stores to service the miner’s families.

There was no electricity available, no sewage system, the houses usually had outhouses, no indoor plumbing, wells were dug for water in the center of town and had to be fetched for use in the house. Living conditions were horrible all because the price of coal was cheap, and the miners were taken advantage of.

The mines were more dangerous than the factories; the miners had to go down as far as thirty to forty feet. The air was thin, and breathing was difficult, ultimately causing severe lung problems from the coal dust. The miners spent ten hours a day in the mines. The most dangerous problem, however, were mine collapses and explosions caused by the use of dynamite that the miners used when it was too difficult to excavate with picks and shovels.

The workers worked very long hours, and were pushed to dig and load as much as ten tons a day. They lived in boarding houses under unbelievable conditions. They had not heard of this living situation in their former country, but once they were there, they had no choice but to hope for the best. And then there was the ultimate problem of the mine drying up, and the miners would have to move to the next coal mining town to seek employment.

The story begins in a small town in Sicily named Casteltermini. It takes place in the early part of the twentieth century, the interrelationships of a clan of families—some that were related—their struggles, hard work, successes, failures, and dedication to achieve a better lifestyle. They came with barely the clothes on their back, for the most part, they were uneducated, Catholic, did not use birth control, had many kids, and rose above the rough and horrible conditions of the times.

They came looking for work and were willing to do what the average American in their respective age groups refused to lower themselves to do. The Americans were better educated and wanted better, higher-paying jobs.

In this particular period, many ended up in the coal mines in Southern Illinois, and quite a few arrived in St. Louis, Missouri, where there were plenty of hard-labor, intense jobs. There they found work in the clay mines. The clay was being used to make brick. The Howard Brick Company employed 90 percent Italians and Sicilians. They also worked in the factories, such as Banner Iron Works, which had the same percentage of both groups.

They were mostly congregated in a small area in south St. Louis called Fairmont Heights, better known as the Hill. It was a ten-square-block neighborhood of which 95 percent of the people were Italians and Sicilians.

The story revolves around the clan—the Reinas, Insalacos, Castellanos, Rumbolos, Cunettos, Burruanos, and their offspring. The succeeding generation groups that emerged were better educated, more professional, doctors, dentists, druggists, lawyers, teachers, professors, accountants, as well as small and large business owners. There was one common denominator; they all inherited the hard-work ethic from their parents.

This amazing woman, Maria Insalaco Reina, was married to a lackluster, strong-tempered, hardworking, tough, fearless, uneducated man who never had steady work his entire life. She endured a series of traumas—miscarriages and still births—each time berated by her husband for not delivering a healthy child.

She refused to be the typical stay-at-home housewife, who would raise a bunch of kids, cook, and perform the usual everyday household chores. She refused to live a paltry lifestyle, she refused to accept the status quo of a below-poverty life in the early days after her arrival in America, and she refused to accept the role of most women of her day.

And having a second-grade education was no barrier; she didn’t use the fact she lacked schooling as an excuse, for she had great street sense. She was determined to rise above the obstacles thrown at her at every level to create a better life for her family. Starting at age twelve and until she died, her immediate family was her life.

She questioned her lowly status as a woman, and as far as she was concerned, it was up to her to do something about it. Who says a woman can’t own a business? And who says a woman can’t own real estate? And why should a woman settle for one half the pay a man makes for doing the same work? She was fifty years ahead of the role played by women at the time.

She passed her work ethics, her entrepreneurial skills, and her determination to get ahead onto her children.

This story is also about one of her children, whose nine lives as a successful businessman began at age twelve, working in a grocery store.

Maria Insalaco Reina was my mother!

The Clan

The Reinas: Carmelo and Maria Insalaco, Virginia (1916), Carlo (1918), Giuseppina Josie (1920), Ignazio Jim (1923), Joseph (1927), and Joe (1936).

The Castellanos: Carmelo and Giusippina D’Angelo, Frank, Lilly, Jimmy, Joseph, and Carmella.

The Castellanos: Giuseppe and Anna (Annuzia), Frank, Jimmy, Rose, and Caroline.

The Burruanos: Giuseppe and Rosa Insalco, Giovanna Jennie (1921), Salvatore (1927), and Giuseppina Josie (1932).

The Ingrascis: John and Rosa Insalaco and Carmelo Hugh.

The Cunettos: Jake and Carmella Insalco, Vince, Giuseppe Joe, Lena, and Lilly.

The Rumbolo’s: Giuseppe (Pepe) and Santa, Sam, Carlo, and John.

Chapter 1

The Kidnap Casteltermini

Sicily 1909

Maria picked up the pace as she walked to the bakery with her loaves of bread to be baked. She sensed someone was closing in on her.

Good morning, Maria. I have been watching you from time to time going to the bakery to have them bake your bread, and I have decided to marry you. How old are you now?

I know who you are, and you are not marrying me, Carmelo. I need to take care of my family. Please leave me alone.

Are you going to tell me how old you are?

No, please let me pass.

One evening, a short time later, Maria was outside disposing of the dinner pasta water when Carmelo’s two sisters-in-laws threw a shawl over her head and kidnapped her. They took her to Luigi Reina’s house (Carmelo’s brother) to convince her to marry Carmelo. Unless she agreed, they would keep her all night and ruin her reputation. After all, this was a tiny town in early twentieth-century Sicily!

Maria said, You can keep me here for the next ten years. I am not marrying him.

At which time, they informed her there could be severe harm to her father, Ignazio, if she didn’t give in. You and your family will be orphans. Do you want that?

This threat hit home with Maria, who was mature beyond her sixteen years. She had been caring for her family since her mother, Giuseppina, passed away four years ago of pneumonia. She was well aware that the Reina family were well-known and connected to what was then a well-organized group controlling crime throughout Sicily. That was the word on the street, and while it was never proven, the fear was there. The Reina clan was never to be crossed. Through the night, they wore her down until she finally agreed to marry the Scoundrel!

Maria Insalaco was a beautiful blond, blue-eyed fifteen-year-old young lady when Carmelo Reina started pursuing her. It was the summer of 1909 in Casteltermini, Sicily. Her mother, Giuseppina, had died suddenly at age thirty-one. Maria was twelve. Her father, Ignazio, worked in a coal mine in Alabama, sending money home each month so that the family of five could survive. There were no jobs in the small towns in Sicily, and as had so many, he had gone off to America to find work. Ignazio worked for $0.10 an hour, ten hours a day, six days a week. He lived in a boarding house, paying $1.50 a week for room and board. The town was owned by the coal mining company; this was the case in most coal mining towns.

There was nothing to do in town, so he saved just about everything he earned. The shock of his wife’s passing came three months after she passed, for there were no means of reaching him, except by mail. All he could do was write to the family and drown in his sorrow.

Maria had two sisters, Carmela and Rosa, and a baby brother Ignazio. She had already been helping her mother by the time she was ten; thus, she knew how to make bread and pasta. She was born on November 25, 1893. Carmella was two years older, Rosa was five years younger, and Ignazio was four. Maria only had a second-grade education.

She would take the loaves of bread to the bakery up the street every three or four days for them to bake it since there was no oven in the stovetop at the house. It was here that Carmelo began his quest, at times stalking her. She was leery of him, for his family’s reputation was notorious. His older brother was very tough and ruled the family with an iron hand and was believed to be involved in illegal activities. She would check out the street before leaving the house all the time to be sure Carmelo was not in the area.

Carmelo was born October 9, 1885, and was eight years older than Maria. He had four brothers, Giuseppe, Luigi, Cologero, and Salvatore, and he worked when there was work in the sulfur mine. His reputation as somewhat of a lady’s man was well-known. Everyone in the neighborhood knew he had a very nasty temper. Maria’s friends had warned her to be careful around him.

Casteltermini was a very small town in the middle of nowhere in central Sicily. There was no industry, and the only jobs were at the nearby sulfur mine. There were the usual stores, grocery, bakery, barbershop, livery stable, and even a nice restaurant in town. Since many foreign countries in its three-thousand-year history had occupied the island, some areas in the smaller towns still spoke different dialects. So much so that it was difficult to understand people from one town to the next.

This was Sicily of 1909, an island that had been part of the unification of Italy in 1861 by General Garibaldi. The people of Italy looked down on the island. The Greeks and the Carthaginians were there first about three thousand years before Christ was born. Then the Romans took the island since they needed wheat to feed their armies, and they could, thereby, get two crops a year. Rome conquered the island about two hundred years before Christ. But the French, Austria, Spanish, and the Moors, over the centuries, also ruled the island. Needless to say, all of these cultures influenced the people, the architecture, and the language. The brutal fact remains that occupied Sicily was raped; the people were maligned; and when the invaders settled, the natives ended up very poor with little or no industry. By the start of the twentieth century, its economy was a disaster.

The Wedding to Carmelo

The wedding happened on a beautiful sunny day in June 1910. Maria wore a simple white dress; her friend, Giusippina D’Angelo, had sewn it for her. She had very little to do with the preparations. Luigi’s best friend hosted the reception in his beautiful garden where landscapers had worked for days to prepare it. The air was scented from lilac bushes that were in full bloom. Not a cloud was seen in the solid blue sky.

Luigi had the affair catered by the only nice restaurant in town. The food was lavish. He spared no expense; two pasta dishes were served and fresh homegrown vegetables. Wild rabbit was roasted on site, and the dinner ended with a ripe tomato salad. At both ends of the table were two large bowls of fresh fruit and several cheeses. The local baker made a beautiful cake and donated it out of respect for Maria. And compliments of the host, the homemade wine was reputed to be the best in town!

Luigi and his other brothers, like Carmelo, were about the same size, short and stocky, and with very dark complexions. Their skin color left no doubt that somewhere along the line, their ancestry and bloodlines were Moorish. While the name Reina sounds Hispanic, the origin is Arabic!

The wedding guests were mostly friends of the Reinas. Maria’s family and some few friends were at two tables and segregated themselves from the rest of the crowd. There was little discussion between them because of the coerced marriage arrangement. A very handsome, nicely dressed guitarist played softly songs of the past, classic favorites of the Reina family. Maria had little or nothing to say during any of the activities, and throughout most of the day, she was stoic and rarely smiled. The same mood prevailed among her guests since they knew the wedding was a forced affair.

Carmelo drank too much of the homemade wine as usual and danced with and flirted with many of the local young girls. Maria refused to dance with him, explaining, I don’t know how to dance. She was dreading the thought of sleeping with Carmelo. There was plenty of homemade wine consumed, and not much attention was paid to the small group sitting with the bride. When Carmelo and Maria got home, he passed out the minute he hit the bed to Maria’s delight. She laid in bed, unable to sleep; all she could think about was what she believed to be a dismal future.

Maria knew from day one of meeting him that Carmelo deserved the name Scoundrel. It was only a matter of time that Maria found herself pregnant, and she visited a midwife, Angelina Severino. The nearest doctor was in a nearby town, eight kilometers away.

Maria you are probably three months pregnant, so the baby will be here next April. Come to see me once a month, but sooner if you start having any problems. Be careful and do not lift anything heavy! You will know when it is time. Water will break, as your sign, and as soon as that happens, send for me no matter what time of day it is.

Maria informed Carmelo about the pregnancy, and he was excited and asked, Maria, speak to the midwife to see if she can tell if you are having a boy. He was persistent in his demand and feared his wrath if she had a girl instead.

On the morning of April 5, Maria experienced serious pain. She assumed it was time and sent Carmelo to get Angelina for the delivery. Angelina delivered twins; both were stillborn. There were no drugs to ease Maria’s pain of losing two babies in a matter of hours nor any to help with the mental anguish of carrying them for nine months only to realize they were gone in a matter of minutes! Angelina sat with Maria for a while and held her hand and tried to comfort her.

Maria, you are young and very healthy, and you have plenty of time in your life to have a family, don’t be sad. But Maria was more concerned about Carmelo’s response when he learned about the death of the babies.

Sadly, this was a small town located thirty kilometers from the next big city, Agrigento; hence, there was no hospital, and even if there had been a doctor in the town, most people were poor and could not afford one even for childbirth.

Her fears were justified; the Scoundrel scolded her, screamed that it was her fault that she failed to bear him a healthy heir. We will keep trying until you bear me a son!

A few months later Maria informed Carmelo, she was with child again, but she miscarried shortly thereafter. Once again, six months later, the midwife informed Maria she was going to have another baby. Maria lived in anguish during the nine months of the pregnancy for fear of losing the baby. A baby boy arrived and was baptized, but seven months later, her next trauma, he got an infection of some kind and died. Again, Maria was the victim of Carmelo’s anger. He became relentless about wanting a child and showed no mercy for what she was experiencing. Somehow, she endured trauma number three!

The Getaway

At a wedding party one evening in 1913, Carmelo was his usual self, consuming too much homemade wine. He was on the stage also known as the old man in the first Godfather movie, singing the Butcher Boy song and was loving every minute of the attention he was getting. Maria again was concerned about his getting drunk and how his temperament changed for the worse. Before long, he was on the dance floor with the daughter of a family friend, and as always, he was dancing a little too close. The woman’s older brother, Pietro, was keeping an eye on the Scoundrel’s advances, and within minutes, the brother and Carmelo were arguing on the dance floor. Soon they were asked to take it outside by the father of the bride who approached them.

If you two are going to fight, go outside. Don’t ruin my daughter’s wedding. The room was dark, there was no electricity, and it was lit by candlelight. No one really noticed them leaving; few had seen the argument.

Now Carmelo was slightly built and only five feet and five inches. The other man was taller and heavier, and he struck first. It was then that a life-changing event took place. Carmelo was challenged by Pietro with a knife. But little did Pietro know that the Scoundrel had his trusty Sicilian switchblade! Carmelo stabbed his opponent three times, and the man, moaning, fell to the ground. Carmelo walked calmly back into the wedding party, grabbed Maria, went immediately to his brother, Luigi’s, house, and told him what had happened.

Bear in mind at this point, the incident happened in a town with no hospital, no doctor readily available, and Agrigento, thirty kilometers away over a dirt road. The only means of transportation to get there was by horse and buggy; it was late at night. Carmelo’s victim was certainly doomed, and early the next morning, Carmelo and Luigi left for Agrigento, assuming the man was dead! Luigi had to rescue his brother from the law.

Carmelo, we have to get you out of the country! You will be staying with my friend, Salvatore Vacarro, until a ship arrives, and we will get you to America. I’ll notify our brother, Giuseppe, all the information he needs to meet you when you arrive.

Giuseppe was working in a coal mine in Whiteash, Illinois, as Carmelo was aware.

But, Luigi, I do not speak English. How am I going to communicate?

I will work things out with the captain of the ship. Don’t worry about it, replied Luigi.

They next visited a friend with the right connections and, within a matter of hours, created papers with a new identity for Carmelo with his new name, Carmelo Castellano. There was a man in Casteltermini with the same name.

Consider for a moment that Carmelo had no education, and he could not even sign his name. He had gone to work as a five-year-old in the sulfur mine near the town. He was temporarily staying with the Vacarros sleeping on the floor, for they had no guest room. The weather was hot and muggy, and he was miserable. Mrs. Vacarro was nowhere near the cook that Maria was, but Luigi had told Carmelo, These people are good friends of mine. Do not cause any problems. They will notify you when a ship arrives to take you to America.

The departure day finally arrived;