A Smear of Ink

Most of us already know what a family tree looks like. You know, the ones with the portraits of family members, each connected by a thin, black line that represents marriage or parentage and continuously branches out over hundreds of years or further. Most of the time, you’re only given their names and maybe the dates they lived. When looking at your family tree, all you can comprehend is how these random strangers play an integral role in your existence and life on Earth. All their random choices or fated decisions culminated in a single black dash. If you took a microscope to that smear of ink, however, you would see a life displayed by a series of events. A rich history that grows with each new generation. Each event played a significant role in how they came to be, choices that brought them chance meetings, places they ended up, or things they’ve experienced that changed them for the better or worse.

Orlando Bertoncini was born June 7th, 1886, in the village of Granaiola. A small village situated in the Lucca province of Tuscany, Italy, and known for its thermal springs sporadically found throughout the province. His parents, Luigi Bertoncini (1862-1933) and Elenora Baldera (1860-1955), were originally from a nearby village called Garfagnana. Both areas are still prevalent today with stunning geographies, such as mountainous regions, lush valleys, and close proximity to the Mediterranean Sea.

Orlando’s upbringing was very traditional. He was the oldest of four children: two sisters (Adelma and Alina) and one brother (Ovidio). Some descendants still live in Italy today, while others can be traced to places worldwide, such as Chile, Uruguay, and the United States. Like any other child back in those days, Orlando worked on the family farm until he was old enough to travel with his father. Another fun fact about the Lucca province and the city of Lucca itself is that it has historically been coined as the City of Ceramics, as countless pottery shops are stretched out all over the region. This just so happened to be the Bertoncini family trade, and Orlando spent most of his young adult life traveling worldwide, producing finely made ceramics, sculptures, and other artisan pieces. His travels took him north to places such as Romania, France, and Russia. Eventually, Orlando, his brother, and his father traveled to South America and settled in Montevideo, Uruguay, in 1910. Orlando was 24 years old, and once settled, he sent for his future wife, Ida Carli.

It’s uncertain how Orlando and Ida met. It could have been an arranged marriage, or perhaps it was Kismet, and they met before he left on his world travels as a budding adult. Either way, Orlando and Ida would remain married for the rest of their lives, and that smear of ink on the family tree would connect the two for the rest of history. Ida Carli was born in the same area as Orlando in 1889. Her parents were from the village of Montefegatesi, another beautiful location in the Tuscany region. She sailed, alone and at age 21, to Uruguay on the Principe Umberto, an Italian passenger and refrigerated cargo ship.

Two years later, the happily married couple welcomed their first child, Aurora, who was born in June 1912. They would remain in Uruguay for another two years, and not long before they would traverse back to Italy, the family welcomed their second child into the world, Astrea. But life isn’t always fair, and every story has twists and turns. Tragedy would befall the young family as baby Astrea would succumb to illness and pass away during the voyage. She would be buried at sea, and the remainder of the journey would be filled with mourning, and Astrea’s little black dash would end with her.

The Bertoncini family returned to their country of origin, settling in Bagni di Lucca, and welcomed their third child, Esther, in September 1915. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to cope with the death of Astrea, settle into their new life in Italy, and enjoy the birth of their new baby before Orlando was torn from their side when he was unexpectedly and unhappily drafted into World War I. An excerpt from his memoirs that Aurora translated states his frustrations:

“I was caught in a trap because I found myself in Italy at the beginning of World War I. I made the mistake of thinking that because I was born in 1886 (and 29 years old at the time), that I would not be drafted. I was called in the first month of 1916; I returned to my home at the end of the war in 1918. Three years of war and suffering; I was loaded with lice and penniless, but fortunately with my skin intact.”

It was a war that killed tens of millions of soldiers and civilians alike, and Orlando was lucky to even be alive. The things he must have seen and the trauma he must have endured for the remainder of his life are unfathomable. Even the Principe Umberto, the ship that sailed Ida to Uruguay and represented a new and exciting life for the couple, didn’t survive the war. Ultimately, it was converted into an armed merchant cruiser and sunk by an Austro-Hungarian U-boat, killing over 1,900 men—the worst naval disaster of WWI.

After the war, one of Orlando’s cousins sponsored him, and Orlando immigrated to the United States of America alone, leaving behind a pregnant Ida and two young girls. Orlando would make his way to Cherbourg, France, in August 1920 and set sail to America on the Titanic’s sister ship, the RMS Olympic. An average trip across the Atlantic took about one month, and the RMS Olympic touched ground on September 15th, 1920, when it reached Ellis Island in New York. Orlando had $65.00 in his pocket—an average of $1,000.00 in today’s economy—and made his way to Chicago, Illinois, for a short time before eventually moving to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

During Orlando and Ida’s separation, Violetta, his fourth daughter, would be born in January 1921. He would not see her until she was seven years old. That’s how long it took for Orlando to become a naturalized citizen and save enough money to move his family from Italy. Orlando worked as a ceramic painter, painting the intricate parts of religious statues at a company still in business today (T.H. Stemper Co.). It wasn’t until January of 1928 that Ida and her three daughters left Italy and headed for a new life in the United States.

Orlando and Ida would spend the rest of their lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, living in the same house on Potter St. Orlando was known for always having a garden and fruit trees in the backyard. The couple would have two more daughters, Valeria (1928) and Sally (1930). He would also be forced to register for the World War II draft in 1942, even at the ripe age of 56. Fortunately, he did not have to participate in that war. It was fortunate that the Bertoncini family was living in the United States at that time because their previous home of Bagni di Lucca was turned into a German concentration camp. Both Jews and Italian residents were forced to live in squalid conditions before being transported to Auschwitz.

Orlando eventually retired after working for the Stemper Company for 31 years. He and Ida would travel back to Italy a few times to enjoy his retirement, visit family, and sell property they owned. The Bertoncini children would grow up, spread their wings all across America, and create their own black dashes on the family tree. Ida succumbed to colon cancer in 1959 at 70 years old. The couple had been married for 49 years. Twelve years later, on November 22nd, 1971, Orlando passed away from stomach cancer in a nursing home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He was 85 years old.

That was just one leaf on a branch of a family tree. One bold dash representing a lifetime of experiences. Smears of ink absorbing stories, creating history, continuously branching out, each with their own narrative…

In March of 1986, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin—one hundred years from when Orlando Bertoncini was born—I came into the world. Orlando was my great-great-grandfather. His first daughter, Aurora, was my great-grandmother. She loved to dance when she was little. She was a homemaker and the mother of three boys. Her youngest, my grandfather, Terry, who loves dogs and is a fantastic woodworker, had three children of his own. His oldest daughter, Roxan, also had three children, the middle child being me. The past melds into the future. These random people in history, all just stranger’s faces, but also a part of me. Their life choices, whether pure luck or fate, stretch out over generations and lead to how I came to be. What will my future relatives see when they look into my smear of ink?