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Angelo Dell’Armo

Angelo DellArmo
Angelo Dell’Armo

Angelo Dell’Armo (née Dell’Armi) was born on 1 August 1883 at 8:15 a.m. in a house on via Cirillo in Salcito, Campobasso, Molise, Italy.

When Angelo Dell’Armi, immigrated to the U.S., he changed his last name to Dell’Armo.

Salcito, Campobasso, Molise, Italy
Salcito, Campobasso, Molise, Italy
Angelo Dell’Armi’s Birth Certificate
Angelo Birth Certificate 1
Angelo Birth Certificate Part 1 of 2

Transcription of text in document

Angelo Dell’Armi Born 1 August 1883 at 8:15 a.m. at his home at via Cirillo 7, in Salcito. Father: Nicolamaria dell’Armi, 36, peasant, informant Mother: Gelsomina Gianandrea, his wife, peasant, resides with him. Witnesses: Angelo dell’Armi, 61, landowner, and Giuseppe dell’Armi, 34, landowner. Registered 5 August 1883.

Angelo Birth Certificate Part 2 of 2

Salcito (Campobasso, Italy) Ufficio dello Stato Civile, Nati 1883, Number 56, Angelo Dell’Armi, born 1 August 1883; FHL Microfilm 1766707, digital image [229], Catalog, FamilySearch (http://www.familysearch.org), accessed December 2017.

 

His parents, Nicolamaria Dell’Armi and Gelsomina Gianandrea, were farmers whose status as landowners did little to help them escape the entrenched poverty of peasant life.[1]

With little hope for upward mobility, young Angelo chose to try his luck in the United States, as did several of his siblings. There, workers were desperately needed in booming factories and coal mines along the East Coast.

Angelo was one among thousands of Italian immigrants driven to the United States by economic need at the end of the 19th century. They arrived in record numbers starting in the 1880s and quickly represented 10 percent of the foreign-born population in the United States. Salcito’s population dropped more than 18 percent between 1861 and 1911, due in large part to migration to the United States.[1]

What went through Angelo’s mind as he glimpsed the Big Apple for the first time? Anbinder reports that many new immigrants were completely taken by surprise at the enormity and busyness of the city:
“When the immigrants headed for New York City landed in lower Manhattan, their senses were bombarded with strange new sights, sounds, and smells. ‘I could hardly believe my eyes, it was so wonderful at first,’ recounted an Italian immigrant of his initial impression of New York. ‘I was bewildered,’ Russian immigrant Morris Shapiro told an interviewer of his arrival in 1923, ‘at the sight of trains running overhead, under my very feet, trolleys clanging, thousands upon thousands of taxis tearing around corners, and millions of people rushing and pushing through the screaming noise day in and day out. To me this city appeared as a tremendous overstuffed roar, where people just burst with a desire to live.’ The city blazed with light even at night, an amazing phenomenon to immigrants from the countryside. The noise was deafening. People moved so fast. The air smelled bad. Where was the sky? Where were the stars? As a German immigrant who arrived in 1910 recalled, ‘It was just overwhelming.’”
“But eventually, after a few hours or a few days, the enormity of what they had just been through would sink in, and the immigrants would realize that after years of planning, saving, convincing, organizing, and arranging, and after weeks or months of travel by foot, cart, train, and ship, their long-held dream had finally become a reality: ‘I was in America!'”

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