I was born on the 30th of May 1921 in a small simple dwelling that still stands to this very day in Sambiase, a little town in Calabria in southern Italy. In those days, the population was about fifty thousand (that’s not including the goats). There we supported ourselves with the produce of vineyards and olive groves, the town centre situated on the foothills of a very large and ancient extension of fertile land. It was good for growing many varied types of vegetables, fruit, wheat, olives, and grapes. This land extended all the way to the Mediterranean Sea, seven kilometres away.

In Sambiase, we had numerous natural mineral springs with running, fresh, clean, clear water all year round which the local people drank. We also had the warm mineral water springs of Caronte at the base of Mount Saint Elia. These came from deep within a volcanic passage which had very warm and healthy mineral waters. People of all ages would come here from all over Italy to relieve their arthritic pains.

My mother’s name was Giuseppina, a widow who lost her first husband in vague circumstances. Her husband had left Italy to work on the railways in America, and apparently was killed in a fight with an enemy gang. He probably died in Chicago. My father Salvatore had also lost his wife for reasons unknown to me. I think, like many couples in Italy in those days, that Giuseppina and Salvatore would have met each another after mass at the local church. My father brought with him to this second union, two daughters from his first marriage, Giovanna and Concettina (Concetta). My parents also adopted a son Rafaello, whom my father had found as a baby abandoned on the steps of the church. Then I was born, and later my younger brother Dominic came along.

(Rafaello died in North Africa during the Second World War. The circumstances of his death are unknown - Vince Falvo. 8.2.2002)

As I grew up I suffered the tyranny of my elder stepbrothers. As a result, constant orders were given and arguments broke out all the time between our parents who fought to protect their natural children. All I can remember about my tender years was a continuous struggle to survive the poverty and hunger. We always had to make do as best we could since our father was never able to gain secure work. Unemployment was rife in Italy in the early 1920’s. My older stepbrothers also found it difficult to get regular work. This guaranteed an environment of desperation in our family.

Soon I began my education at the Sambiase primary school where I managed four years of learning and eventually sat for my year five exam, a very important scholastic step for me. Two years later I sat for the high school certificate, studying by correspondence on my own. In between I was caught in the middle of our ‘family wars’. This state of dysfunctional family affairs went on for quite a while, as our father battled to keep the family fed by working at all sorts of jobs. Luckily for us, our father was a jack-of-all-trades and very resourceful. He made baskets, did plant crafting, pruning and looked after our vineyards and olive groves.

It was during this time a made my life-long friendship with Luigi Murone. Luigi was four years younger than me and lived in a big, gated house nearby. We would go on walking adventures out of town, exploring and dreaming of so many things. This friendship lasted a long time after the war ended and even today here in Australia, we write to one another frequently.

My teenage years sneaked up on me and it was during these years that I learnt so much by observing and helping my father. I enjoyed four good and memorable years with my father before he died unexpectedly from a heart attack. But life continued and things slowly grew more bearable (if you could call it that).

Soon after our father’s death my two stepbrothers married, leaving the family home to start their own families, and I found myself with the sole responsibility of looking after the rest of our family and the property. My younger brother Dominic had grown up to be a healthy young man and was able to help me as much as he could on the farm. Fortunately Domenic had quite a ‘green thumb’ and enjoyed his work on the land, which helped me a lot.