My grandfather Placido Amarù, born in Pietraperzia, Sicily, came to New England at the end of the 19th century with nothing but his wits and energy, worked briefly in the Maine woods cutting roads for loggers, and later took a job in a general store on Prince Street. Working there, he was able to invite his betrothed, Maria, to come from Alia, Sicily, and they married in Boston. He soon became a partner in the store and then a full owner and eventually he bought the building, and was able to move his family into the upper floor. The store was in that short stretch of Prince Street from North Square Park to Hanover, which is unrecognizable now; it was on the same side where the North End Press is located. The doorway was set in from the sidewalk and the paving in front of the door was of small white tiles with the letters Libreria del Populo in black tile, because he also sold books – along with musical instruments, stationery paper, guns, sheet music, phonograph records, cigars, just about everything. As he prospered, the growing family moved from the North End to a small house in Malden and, a few years later, to Lexington where he bought a large house on Massachusetts Avenue within sight of the Battle Green. By then he and his wife had nine children — five girls and four boys, all of them handsome, quick-witted and rash — and he owned several apartment buildings in the North End and now had his store at the corner of Prince and Hanover, plus a bank, a travel company, a photography studio and other ventures, including a shoe factory in Sicily and a villa in Palermo. From my mother I heard many stories about other figures in the North End, including Dr. Balboni, the Failaccis, the Lo Prestis and the Longarinis; those last two were publishers of La Notizia, an important newspaper of the Italian-American community back then. Incidents in some of my novels are inspired from stories about my grandfather and his extended family.
