Kidnapped

So, I guess we can finally begin preparations to make America great again…as soon as we clean out the White House, preferably sooner than later.

And it seems like yesterday, but when I was touring Sicily about 10-years ago (just before the U.S. sidestepped the Great Depression, part II) I experienced a 10-minute episode I frequently share with my patients.

My mother’s heritage is Sicilian; she was first generation. When I had the chance to visit the family’s home town, Piana degli Albanese, I was living the dream, the food, the wine…and my roots. My guide for the first two days, straight outa Palermo, was Giovanni. When Giovanni came to the U.S. as a young man, he brought ambition, energy, and a dream; he didn’t speak English and I’m sure he brought potential visible only when he used a mirror.

Giovanni landed up north in the Bay area where he started at the bottom of the restaurant staff pecking order; he later became Maitre D at Scoma’s, and then the owner of multiple restaurants around Berkeley. Giovanni used to tell the story of his being pulled over by law enforcement who attempted intimidation until asked to call Giovanni’s lawyer and friend, former San Francisco Mayor Joe Alioto.

I knew Giovanni because his daughter and her husband owned my favorite Sicilian pizzeria EVER, conveniently located in Old Town Pasadena. At the time of my dream trip, Giovanni was splitting his time in California and at his seaside $10-million villa in Porticello (Just around the corner from Palermo.)

I couldn’t have had a more ideal guide; first day in Palermo, we had four amazing meals by 1PM. About half way through the afternoon we stopped for a brioche (filled with gelato and topped with whipped cream) and I still dream about the tiramisu flavor. Giovanni said I should stay by the car; he’d put in the order.

When Giovanni returned, I asked about the neighborhood; was it dangerous? My guide said no, there was some theft and if you touched a woman who objected you might get killed…but not so bad. Giovanni then mentioned that several years ago two children were kidnapped by gypsies. Next day, signs were everywhere; “We’re not the police. We’re not the government. Return the children or we’ll kill the gypsies." Signed, the Black Hand (branch of the Mafia).” Giovanni asked me how many gypsies I’d seen that day; I responded “None.”

I don’t know about you but I’m grateful I didn't see my family of immigrants viewed as an infestation of animals, murderers, and rapists. Such bigotry undoubtedly exists for those who find fear, divisiveness, and scapegoat profiling far more convenient than seeking solutions, being accountable, and reading the Constitution.

It seems like America is becoming what we used to sacrifice lives over resisting. Are we accepting some new perverted reality where lies are the new truth, where the First Amendment applies only to those in power and our humanity can be measured by how many children we can kidnap away from parents seeking asylum from terror my own family of immigrants never experienced?

The Black Hand actually killed my uncle in a shootout over extortion money back in Los Angeles of the 20’s (and he killed two of his attackers.) But even the Black Hand had honor enough to not tolerate kidnapping children. And I hope, someday soon, we can find the honor that brought pride only a few years ago.