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<\/a><\/p>\n“Small Town” \u00a0mixed media, 2007<\/p>\n
One Christmas, as we snaked our way through the endless airport security line in Atlanta, we glimpsed some familiar faces. \u00a0I don’t suppose it seems outside the realm of possibility to meet someone from your neighborhood at an airport, but for folks from Bernalda to run upon each other in Atlanta borders on the incredible. \u00a0Here we were, two families from a tiny town where people rarely leave the province, much less the continent. \u00a0They were on their way to visit relatives in Florida, and we were on our way yet again to Austin. \u00a0We chatted, a conversation carried on in snippets each time our zig met their zag in the slow crawl of the line. \u00a0It was a surprisingly comforting \u00a0experience for all of us.<\/p>\n
Ever wonder why names can become so popular that you might find two or three “Meagans” or “Ethans” in a classroom? \u00a0I am reminded of the Dr. Seuss story about the woman who named all of her many sons “Dave.” \u00a0I have particular acquaintance with the name \u00a0Donato Viggiano. \u00a0If that sounds strange, let me explain. \u00a0 \u00a0 Young men in Bernalda can be seen strolling up and down the Corso, often following a regular schedule which has them out of the house for two reasons: \u00a0 1) because they are banished during meal preparation and \u00a0 2) \u00a0because they have made themselves scarce afterwards when the dishes have to be washed. \u00a0So any afternoon or evening there is a regular crawl of walkers and automobiles up and down the main street, and in a circle around town. \u00a0 \u00a0Sometimes the\u00a0Carabinieri<\/em>\u00a0will be positioned on roads leading in or out of town, stopping cars to check insurance and licenses. \u00a0On one such afternoon, they stopped a car and asked for identification. \u00a0The conversation was as follows:<\/p>\n “I need to see your identification and papers.”<\/p>\n “Yes, officer, here is my license. \u00a0I am Donato Viggiano.”<\/p>\n “And you?”<\/p>\n “Hello officer, my name is Donato Viggiano.”<\/p>\n “…OK….And you in the back, what is your name?”<\/p>\n “My name is Donato Viggiano.” \u00a0 \u00a0(burst of uncontrolled snickering)<\/p>\n At this point, the officer bagan to show his consternation, and the young men in the car saw that when the forth shoe dropped, it might get them fined!<\/p>\n “You guys are getting on my nerves. \u00a0I’ll give you a last chance. \u00a0What is YOUR name?”<\/p>\n The young man handed over his I.D card, which said…<\/p>\n Donato Viggiano!!<\/p>\n