There was quiet mourning for Rudolph Valentino, away from the crowds. There were private friends, friends who will remain unknown to us forever…A simple remembrance from two friends, placed ninety-six years ago in Variety on Wednesday, August 25, 1926.
“Time travel me back. Let me say good-bye again. A minute more, a moment, a chance to see. . .” ― Sarah Crossan, Moonrise
“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” ― Thomas Campbell
“Friends come into our lives and friends leave our lives. But friends never leave our hearts. And best friends always get to stay in the best places in our hearts.” ― John M. Simmons, The Marvelous Journey Home
At some theaters across the U.S. and Canada, the presentation of The Sheik was accompanied by a “prologue” before the film was shown. Music, singing, desert scenes–all were presented to put the audience in the mood for the film. But one prologue went drastically wrong…
At the New York premiere on November 6 at the Rialto at Times Square, Manhattan, several opening features entertained the audience. In the review by Harriet Underhill carried in the New YorkTribune the next day, a description of the program was included.
Out in Calgary, Canada, a scene “showing a tent in the desert” was offered at the Capitol Theater.
“A tent in the desert; a very pleasing baritone …”
The Calgary Daily Herald, Tuesday, November 29, 1921. Page 8
On the same day, in Winnipeg, Canada, at another Capitol Theater, the prologue furnished “a realistic scene from the very heart of the hot, sand-covered desert, with colorful lighting effects playing its whole gamut of glitter upon it. The curtains part with the sun partially clouded….”
“The colorful background changes into many pleasing hues, the glitter of all vanishing with the opening scenes of the feature.”
The Winnipeg Evening Tribune, Tuesday, November 29, 1921. Page 10
In both theaters, a song titled “Till the Sands of the Desert Grow Cold” was presented, This was a popular song composed in 1911. There are several renditions on Youtube, but this video by Tim Grayck which features a 1912 recording by Donald Chambers also has lyrics to follow along with to about Minute 1:30 and really gives a sense of what audiences going to see The Sheik may have experienced. Here is a link to the full lyrics for the song, which was composed in 1911.
These spectacular introductions to The Sheik certainly got the audience in the mood for the film…but, on the first day of “Sheik Week” a terrible tragedy occurred in New Haven, Connecticut that evening of November 27, 1921.
As the late newspaper editions hit the streets, the headlines revealed the the evolving story of horror.
According to The New York Tribune, the frame building was already 100 years old. It had been a church before it was sold to Yale University and was used as an auditorium and music school for 20 years. One story said that the building was altered for use as a movie theater six years before The Sheik was booked for that night.
There was different reporting on how and where the fire started– from an ember from an incense lamp in front of the screen (The New York Tribune) or from a flash from the left wing of the stage which set the curtain a blaze (Daily News). The difference is understandable as the scene would soon turn into chaos. The incense lamp seems to be the most likely scenario given The New York Tribune background report:
The New York Tribune,
Monday, November 28, 1921. Page 2
One hundred Yale students, some of whom became victims of the fire, were in the audience and they tried to urge order, but exits were blocked. People were trampled and many in the balcony were trapped as flames moved from the proscenium arch of the stage and climbed rails and onto the seats. People in the balcony jumped down onto those below who were trying to escape. The New York Evening News reported that many children were in the audience and parents were injured as they tried to lift them above the mass of flailing bodies surrounding them. People already standing in the lobby waiting for the second show were pushed back into the street as a rush of people tried to escape through the house doors of the theater. The walls caught fire and flames swept to the side where there was one window which opened on to the fire escape, which was the site of a horrific scene:
“…charred beyond identification…”
Daily News, New York, New York
Monday, November 28, 1921. Page 1
Although every piece of firefighting equipment in New Haven reportedly rushed to the scene, the Rialto was completely destroyed, along with the Hyperion theater building at the rear.
“…The fire burned for more than two hours and a half…”
Daily News, New York, New York
Monday, November 28, 1921. Page 2
Lawrence R. Carroll, the manager of the theater and his assistant, James Carter, were initially detained by authorities but were released on their own recognizance (The New York Evening World, November 28, 1921, Page 8). The Final Edition of the Daily News reported that the coroner was prepared to issue manslaughter charges against Carroll (Monday, November 28, 1921, Page 2).
1. The Prizma Color system, according to Wikipedia, “was a color motion picture process, invented in 1913 by William Van Doren Kelley and Charles Raleigh.
2. The New York Evening World from November 28, 1921 carried another film-related story right next to the New Haven theater fire headlines along with a full banner across the top of the paper. That story was titled “Arbuckle In His Own Defense Goes On Stand And Gives His Version of Actress’s Death.” It’s a story still remembered to this day, unlike the fatal New Haven fire.
The intense media interest in the death of Rudolph Valentino finally reached its end on September 7, 1926 when his 2nd funeral was held in Los Angeles and he was finally interred in the crypt at Hollywood Cemetery (now called Hollywood Forever Cemetery).
The day was in marked contrast to the out-of-control days in New York City when his public viewing was held. Originally planned to continue until Friday, August 27, it was cut short after the viewing deteriorated into an uncontrolled, mob-like event.
In an article under the headline “Premonition of Early Death,” John W. Considine, Jr., who produced Valentino’s pictures, revealed that “Valentino several times remarked to me, “I shall die young. I know it, and I shall not be sorry. I would hate to live to be an old man.” (The Tribune, Scranton, Pennsylvania, August 24, 1926, Page 2 (Dateline: Los Angeles, August 23, Associated Press).
He got his wish, but much sooner than he would have anticipated. And one of his wishes as he fought for his life was that he would have a public viewing in the event he died.
Valentino had suffered greatly and had wasted to a shadow of the image he projected on the screen. The morticians who received his body at Campbell’s Funeral Church had a difficult job to do. A “secret embalming process” supervised by W. H. Hull, claimed Valentino’s body would stay in it’s final state “practically forever.” It was the same process used to embalm Enrico Caruso, who had died in August 1921 in Italy.
The Miami Herald (Miami, Florida) Tuesday, August 24, 1926, Page 8
In The Times Union (Brooklyn, New York) dated Wednesday, August 25, 1926 (Page 15), reporter Ted Le Berthon recounted what had transpired the day before (August 24) in an evocative piece entitled “VALENTINO RIOTS A MORBID ORGY.”
...Rudolph Valentino's cold, lifeless image, waxen and unreal, laying like a flat, smashed thing, beneath a glass cover, on the second floor of Campbell's Funeral Church, was the goal of this stubborn, screaming crowd....[About 2 P.M.] By now, reporters and cameramen had been permitted to view the dead Rudy in his last personal appearance. Peering through the glass coffin cover was like looking through a glass case in a museum.
“He only weighed 102 when he died,” one employe of the undertaking firm whispered.
His nose was sharply defined, a little ridged; he face, pitifully small, and inclined, for some reason, to one side. Those eyes, that had “burned to the cores of women’s beings,” were closed. That face, that wore make-up so often in the bustling multi-colored cinema studios, was delicately powdered. The thin, sunken lips were thinly rouged, the brows penciled. It did not seem possible that this was Rudolph Valentino. From the eyes of those standing about, one sensed a sickening desire to be away, quickly.
The heavy smell of flowers suggested great fields of death. One wondered if some substitution had not been made. Surely this mashed body, with claw-like hands was not the ardent lover, in whose veins had coursed fiery blood, consuming a romance-hungry world in its glow, made ubiquitous by the universal markets of the cinema.
Le Berthon describes how at “About 3 o’clock [on Tuesday, August 24], it was decided to admit the first line of the city’s mourners.” It was raining and the line went up a winding staircase to the room where Valentino lay. Le Berthon relates the mood of the visitors:
…disappointment about his burial clothes, giggling, and surprise over his thin hair…
The following day, on Wednesday, August 25, the body had been relocated to the ground floor to help keep the lines moving more efficiently. The reporting by United Press described how the bier was placed in the center of the room and how the crowd circled and exited through a side door through a florist shop adjacent to the Campbell’s Funeral Chapel. Although there were still “giggling girls of high school age” waiting to enter when the doors opened at 9 A.M., the United Press story commented that “While yesterday the throng was perhaps a bit inclined to be unexpectedly gay, today the attitude seemed change. There was more showing of reverence…The scene was more somber–an atmosphere heightened by dull, drizzling fog” (The Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, August 25, 1926, Page 2).
When the doors opened at 9 A.M., the first two people on line were two tourists from Terre Haute, Indiana, who had arrived at 6 A.M. Margaret Kenley and Josephine Attman had planned to leave the day before but “We couldn’t return without seeing Valentino…We were going home yesterday but we simply had to stay” (The Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Wednesday, August 25, 1926, Page 2).
Another visitor was a woman who said she had seen Valentino two years before:
The early reports of “more reverence” on Wednesday were soon revised in late editions of papers like The Brooklyn Daily Times:
The Dayton Herald in Dayton, Ohio came to this conclusion in their Wednesday edition (Page 4):
“excited curiosity…laughing and chatting…”
George Ullman’s full comments were reported by the Associated Press:
"This has gone far enough," Ullman said. The lack of reverence shown by the crowds, the disorder and rioting since the body was first shown, have forced me to this decision. Tonight at midnight the doors will be closed to the public and the body placed in a vault here in the funeral church until Monday. It will be viewed only by friends and associates." (A.P. syndicated report from the Fort Worth-Telegram, Fort Worth, Texas, Thursday, August 16, 1926, Page 4.)
Ullman was still shaken by what he had seen. On Thursday, August 26, he was quoted in a United Press report: “I loved Valentino so,” he said, “that I thought the whole world would reverence him” (Courier-Post, Camden, New Jersey, Thursday, August 26, 1 926, Page 14). From the same newspaper:
“normal decorum and dignity now prevails…”
At the end Valentino’s animals mourned him, without judgment...
Yaqui and Valentino in The Son of the Sheik
Kabar and Valentino, returning from Europe on the Leviathan, January 1926
On May 11, 1921 Rudolph Valentino wrote check No. 10008 in green ink payable to Walter M. Murphy Motors Co. for the sum of $200.00, drawn on his account at the Hollywood Branch of the Citizens Trust and Savings Bank, Los Angeles. It was signed “R. Valentino.” I have touched it only one time. It is extremely thin and the paper almost feels like fabric…so different from the stiff paper we see in our modern day checks. Perhaps time has taken its toll…100 years is such a long time ago, yet this check is part of my life now.
Interior of the Citizens Trust and Savings Bank, Hollywood Boulevard & North McCadden Place, Los Angeles, Ca, 1928
Quickly begins work on Uncharted Seas, filming during December 1920 (see this prior post for details). Meets Natacha Rambova. First formal date Christmas week, 1920 at a costume ball, Ambassador Hotel, Los Angeles.
Filming of Camille underway January-February 1921. First wife Jean Acker files for divorce, January 17, 1921. Valentino fully smitten with Rambova during this time and relationship develops. They soon begin to co-habit at Rambova’s Sunset Boulevard bungalow.
The Conquering Power begins production one week after filming of Camille is completed.
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse premieres March 6, 1921.
Filming of The Conquering Power completed in a few weeks by the end of March 1921. After this film, Valentino will have no work until July 1921. Money is very tight during this time.(Valentino is in debt, paying off his New York tailors for all the suits he had made to use in The Four Horsemen. During especially lean times, he hunts and eats mussels found at the beach.)
Also in March, the American edition of The Sheik, by E.M. Hull, appears and becomes an immediate success.
Jesse Lasky of Famous Players-Lasky Corporation has been negotiating the rights for Hull’s The Sheik, finally purchasing the rights for $12,500.
Valentino leaves Metro Pictures after the completion of filming The Conquering Power, following friction during filming and money issues. Valentino offered the lead role in The Sheik. Signs a 2 picture deal with an option for an extension with Famous Players-Lasky Corporation. In a letter to Adolph Zukor dated July 2, 1921, Lasky writes that he is “fortunate in getting Valentino, the remarkable boy who played the lead in The Four Horsemen” and that casting the film has just finished.
July 5, 1921…The Sheik begins production and filming ends by late August.
The Conquering Power released July 8, 1921.
Camille released September 26, 1921.
The Sheik released October 30, 1921.
What would make Rudolph spend $200.00 (about $2960.00 in 2021) at Murphy Motors while not working, paying off debts and hunting for dinner during months without income? It seems to have been the NEED FOR SPEED.
As a youth in Taranto, Italy following his stint in agricultural school, cars were a way to pass the time. He was already attracted to speed. From Emily Leider’s Dark Lover, page 36:
In her book, Rudy: An Intimate Portrait of Rudolph Valentino By His Wife Natacha Rambova, Rambova spends quite a bit of time recounting Valentino’s preoccupation with cars, commenting how “Automobiles from the first were Rudy’s downfall.” He purchased a Mercer, which was considered to be the first sports car, on installment. The Mercer Series 5 was produced between 1919 and 1922 with prices over these years ranging from $3,675 – $5,650 making it on the high end of automobile prices. (Rounding off to $5,000, for example, a Mercer bought for that price in 1921 would cost $73,988 in 2021!) There were 6 body types including sedans, with the “sports car” version often called a “Speedster” in ads. It could reach speeds of 70-80 mph. (Rambova commented that “Rudy always had expensive tastes”….)
This ad for a 1920 Sport Model shows the appeal this car would have had for Valentino.
Chicago Tribune, Sun., September 4, 1921, Pg. 82.
When his acting jobs stopped at the end of March 1921, Valentino eventually lost the car and about half of what he had put into it. So, without a car of his own, he borrowed Rambova’s Buick “runabout” which she acquired when she started working at Metro Studios sometime in 1919. The term “runabout” was going out of use by 1915 when it was replaced by the term “roadster”. The original runabouts were very light cars usually without doors, windows or roofs usually seating 2 passengers and they eventually became virtually indistinguishable from roadsters. Roadsters were more refined with concave “hoods” over the dashboard which would deflect moving air away from the front passengers. (Hooded dashboards were also found on speed cars.) We don’t know if she bought a used “runabout” or newer model “roadster” but they were quite similar in appearance although seats in the runabout were further to the rear of the vehicle than they were in the roadster. Rambova fitted her car out with extras–“mirrors, spotlights, canteens, etc.”
Whichever car Rambova owned, it lacked enough “pick-up” to suit Valentino. He scoured ads and had his connections at the studio on the lookout for a second-hand car that would meet his standards. He finally found a 1914 Cadillac, according to Rambova, which still had remnants of blue paint on the body and then campaigned to convince Rambova to allow him to trade in her runabout for the Cadillac. He even pocketed $400 on the trade. For Valentino, it was all about the motor; it had good speed even though it was not a racer–it could hit 70 mph–and it had “marvelous pick-up.” As for the body…no problem, it could be brought up to like new condition “in a week.”
And so the deal was done!
Valentino already had some experience with Cadillacs because while filming The Four Horsemen, he was ferried to the set in a Cadillac studio limousine.
The model year of the Cadillac he bought varies, with most sources, including Leider, saying the car was a 1914 model, while Donna Hill in Rudolph Valentino-The Silent Idol says it was the 1915 version. While Cadillac made models that looked very similar from year to year, there is one critical difference between these two production years. Part of the discrepancy may be due to the fact that Cadillac introduced a new engine in late 1914 for the 1915 production year.
Introduced in 1914 as the standard engine for all 1915 models, Cadillac’s first V8, the Type 51, used a 90-degree layout with three main bearings, L-head combustion chambers and water cooling...Cadillac’s initial design was a true high speed engine...the first use of a thermostatically controlled cooling system that was eventually adopted by all car manufacturers...soon earned world-wide praise for unprecedented smoothness and performance. The L-Head was on the Ward’s 10 Best Engines of the 20th century list.
1914: The last of the 4-cylinder Cadillac models. The motor was rated 40HP.
1915: New Cadillac V8 model dubbed "The sweetest running car in the world". "The ultimate in motor car engines" was the verdict of the industry's representative engineers. ...Top speed was a conservative 55-65 mph...
Trivia: On August 29, 1915, a stock Cadillac V8 drove a distance of 72 miles in 77 minutes and beat by 12 minutes the express Vandalia passenger train between Indianapolis and Terre-Haute, Indiana. On some stretches the car reached a speed of 75 mph. Remember this is 1915 and the car is a stock Cadillac!
Dropping down a body during the assembly of a 1914 Cadillac touring model which was nearly identical to the 1915 version.
A restored 1914 Cadillac…looking very similar to Valentino’s car.
But, note some of the differences in the photo below which are found on Valentino’s car: the custom trim, the glass windscreen in front of the passengers, and the location of the small “spots” located over the front fenders.
According to Evelyn Zamaya in her book Affairs Valentino (page 78), Valentino would work on the car during lunch hours during the final days of filming The Sheik. Rambova relates in her memoir that “he worked untiringly on the transformation of this ugly duckling, fitting it out with two strong “spots” on either side of the windshields, a cigarette lighter on the driving board, and many other improvements all installed by himself.” These other improvements included mirrors, a custom trim and, as Rambova comments, “After a good coat of black paint–egg-shell finish–and much polishing of the nickel trimmings, it really didn’t look so bad.” However, she reported that the car would break down at “the most inopportune moments,” which Valentino brushed off as being something that happened with powerful motors. And and it also guzzled oil and gas. But…for Valentino, it was a REAL car…
And here is something truly amazing: We can actually hear what Valentino heard when he started the engine! Watch these videos on Youtube:
It’s quite something to hear this engine running and imagining Valentino working on it, 100 years ago.
This brings us back to the check written to Walter M. Murphy Motors. Murphy Motors was founded in 1920 in Pasadena, California as a dealer for Simplex automobiles. It added Leland Lincolns to its roster and then Duesenbergs. The “coach building” aspect of Murphy’s Motors began as an unplanned aside. Basically, the company started to change the top and paint on the Leland Lincolns because Murphy’s clientele thought the original designs were not modern or flashy enough and because he thought the engineering of the Lincolns was poor. Murphy bought equipment and brought in staff from the New Jersey-based Healey and Company and by 1922 began making a name among wealthy clients, which included industrialists, movie stars and car aficionados, by building custom bodies on top of the basic chassis of many brands.
Murphy is known to have built on Bentley, Bugatti, Buick, Cadillac, Cord, Crane-Simplex, Doble, Dorris, Essex, Ford, Hispano-Suiza, Hudson, Isotta- Fraschini, Lincoln, Locomobile, Marmon, Mercedes-Benz, Mercer, Minerva, Packard, Peerless, Pierce-Arrow, Rolls-Royce and Simplex chassis, but they are most famous for their work on the Duesenberg Model J. Source: Coachbuild.com, The Coachbuilders Encyclopedia
It seems logical to assume that Valentino wrote this check on May 11, 1921 for $200.00 to buy parts from the Walter M. Murphy Motors Company that he needed for his restoration work. It is quite likely that he would have asked for advice and perhaps would have some work like the new paint job and custom trim done by the company itself.
So, today marks the 100 year anniversary of the day Rudolph Valentino went over to Pasadena to an auto business, bought parts, chatted about his treasured second-hand Cadillac, and then went home to work on it…
And the proof of how he spent that day is in the check…
NOTE: An image of the check is now posted in the My Memorablilia/Book Collection section of this blog.
1. Valentino’s used Cadillac was apparently gone by the time of his death in August 1926. In the list of estate items in auctioned off only the following vehicles are listed: the 1925 Isotta Fraschini; the 1925 Avion Voisin; a 1926 Franklin Coupe; a 1925 Chevrolet Roadster, and a 1922 Ford Truck. Source: Allan R. Ellenberg, The Valentino Mystique. page 182.
2. A photo of the showroom of Walter M. Murphy Motors which was relocated in to West Colorado Avenue, Pasadena in 1920. Photo ca. 1927.
Walter M. Murphy Motors, 285 West Colorado, Pasadena, ca. 1927.
Listing for Early Auto-Related Properties in Pasadena, California
American companies (which came to be concentrated in southern Michigan) along with their European counterparts would often ship their high performance chassis to New York and Los Angeles were there was a strong market for luxury cars.6 Local custom coach builders would then complete the automobile according to the individual taste of the patron. One such company was the Walter M. Murphy Motor Company of Pasadena.Walter M. Murphy came from a Detroit family that had made its fortune in lumbering. An uncle, William H. Murphy was a stockholder in Henry M. Leland’s Cadillac as well as a backer of Henry Ford’s early automotive ventures. Before entering the custom body5 Peter Ling, America and the Automobile: Technology. Reform and Social Change. p. 127.6 Duesenberg, Lincoln, and Cadillac were the first American made luxury cars able to compete with the European imports such as Mercedes and Rolls Royce. business, Murphy sold Simplex and Locomobile cars. In 1920, he moved into new facilities at 275-85 West Colorado Boulevard and became the California distributor for the new Lincoln luxury car. He expanded into the body business as a result of the Lincoln’s poor engineering and conservative styling. After Lincoln was acquired by Ford in 1922, Murphy turned to building custom bodies for a variety of luxury car chassis at his Pasadena plant at 37-55 North Vernon Avenue (now St. John Street); however, Murphy built more bodies on Duesenberg chassis than any other coach builder in the United States. Murphy’s forte was in designing convertibles and roadsters.
Section F: Associated Property Types Page 18-19 Automobile showrooms are significant under criterion B if they are associated with individuals who pioneered and/or innovated the automobile sales business in Pasadena. Walter Murphy, for example, was one of the most significant figures in the history of automobiles in the United States. He was a nationally recognized leader in the sale and manufacturing of luxury automobiles, including Lincolns and Duesenbergs.
Rambova, Natacha. “Rudy: An Intimate Portrait of Rudolph Valentino by His Wife Natacha Rambova.” News Clippings of the Life of Natacha Rambova & Rudy Valentino with Complete Transcript of her Book. Middletown, Delaware: Self-published, 2021. (book available at Ebay, ISBN 9798565516371)
He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.
Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor
–III, ii, 71.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep til morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
Byron, Child Harold’s Pilgrimage,
–canto III, st. 22
Fame is the thirst of youth.
Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,
–canto III, st. 45.
To me it seems that youth is like spring, an over-praised season–delightful if it happen to be a favored one, but in practice very rarely favored and more remarkable, as a general rule, for biting east winds than genial breezes.
–Samuel Butler, The Way of All Flesh, (1903), ch.5
Source of Quotations:
Bartlett, John. Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations. 14th ed. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1968.
The Guglielmi, Socci and Bosco families all had something in common–the sad death of siblings. In the case of my family there was also the loss of mothers. Valentino had three siblings: older sister, Bice, older brother Alberto, and his younger sister Maria. My grandmother’s family included five surviving siblings (3 others died), while my grandfather’s family was much larger…a total of twelve children, with only 7 surviving.
“The infant mortality rate in Italy, for children under the age of one year old, was 231 deaths per thousand births in 1865. This means that for all babies born in 1865, over 23 percent did not survive past their first birthday.” (Statista.com) “In 1871 there were 26.8 million Italians. Both birth and death rates were high, and almost half the children born alive died before age five.” Conditions would improve with more public health measures notably malaria, the disease that plagued Valentino’s father. “Malaria, a major scourge of the rural south, declined sharply as quinine became widely available after 1900.” (Brittanica). But even as recently as 2005-2015, in the area where Valentino’s and my families come from “Inequalities are reported even among Italian regions: in Southern Italy, infant mortality is 1.4 fold higher than in Northern Italy.” (Italian Journal of Pediatrics)
In New York City in the late 19th and early 20th century, where my grandmother and all her siblings were born, the situation was also distressing, as described in this paper from The American Journal of Public Health:
“Children were especially vulnerable to the health problems associated with poor and dangerous housing conditions. Inadequately protected against the harsh cold of winter and the stifling heat of summer, children in these urban ghettos often ate poorly, washed sporadically, dodged falling plaster and other environmental hazards, and were exposed to many deadly contagious diseases. Epidemics of diphtheria, smallpox, and whooping cough, to name but a few, were almost annual events during this period. Death was a common visitor, with a frequency and relentlessness that is difficult for most Americans of just a century later to fully comprehend.”
The Valentino Siblings
Grazia Bice Maria Ceresa Amalia Guglielmi was born June 1, 1890 in Castellaneta, Italy. She passed away on August 14, 1891 from diphtheria, a highly contagious bacterial infection which creates toxins in the body. Today, antitoxins and antibiotics are used to treat the disease, but there was no treatment in 1890 and no vaccine.
The remaining children born into the Guglielmi family did survive.
Alberto Pasquale Guglielmi (left) was born on April 5, 1892 in Castellaneta and passed away on June 4, 1981 in Los Angeles, California, age 89. Brother Rodolfo Pietro Filberto Raffaello Guglielmi (right) was born on May 6, 1895 and died August 23, 1926 at age 31. Picture ca. 1897.
Valentino’s younger sister Maria Grazia Martina Anna Guglielmi (Strada after marriage) was born September 1, 1897 in Castellaneta. Her date of passing is unknown.
There are no baby pictures of Maria available but this a picture of her in her younger days.
The Socci Siblings
The picture of the young Maria Guglielmi reminds me of the picture of my grandfather’s sister, Rosina. Little Rosina was the only girl among 12 children; 4 of the boys died and Rosina would also die too young. My mother wrote in her life story:
Only 7 sons survived. My Dad’s sister, Rosina, died when she was sixteen years old. I know this because my father spoke of her often. He must have loved her very dearly.
The surviving boys were:
Leonardo–1877-1947 He never came to the United States
Alessandro (Alexander)–(dates unknown) Came to the United States but returned to Italy.
Lived in the United States after emigrating
Michele (Michael) A.–1880-1968
Ernesto (Ernest) Donato–1884-1973
Giacomo (James/Jake) Mario–1890-1959
Matteo (Matthew) Anthony–1892-1966
Francesco (Frank) William–1895-1988
Unfortunately, I have not discovered any pictures of these siblings as infants.
Although the boys did spend time in Manhattan and Brooklyn, New York at different points in their lives, Michele and Ernesto would live for quite awhile in Waterbury, Connecticut, one of Connecticut’s manufacturing hubs at the time. Michele would open up his barber shop there and it was a base for the other brothers to either work or visit. Eventually, Rutherford, New Jersey would become the “rural” home outside of New York City where my mother and her siblings would be raised, with her uncles spending a great deal of time living and visiting the house on Feronia Way.
The Bosco Siblings
All of the Bosco family children were born in New York City. Five children would survive. My research reveals that there was a baby boy named Ernesto, who was born in Manhattan, only to die at the age of 2 months in November 1892. Tragedy struck again when twins, probably girls, were born in late 1902. It is likely that they were named Domenica and Pasqualina; Grazia, their mother, died in childbirth. As my mother writes in her life story, when her mother was 8 years old “her mother and the twins she had given birth to died.” As mentioned in my previous post, the children were placed in an orphanage. Their father Antonio was quickly remarried in 1903– Rosaria was an older woman who came over from Italy, and she would raise the children after they were taken back home from an orphanage where they had been placed after the death of their mother.
The surviving children were:
Rosina (Rose)–1894-1952 (my grandmother)
Charles (Carmine) Bosco–1898- not yet determined
The Lalumia Siblings
All the Lalumia children were born in New York, except Anthony (my father) and the youngest, Matthew. They were born in New Jersey. The family had settled in the town of Lodi. Many Italian families went to Lodi which was near the mills and factories which provided employment. Oldest sibling Lucia was actually a half sister to the rest of the children, as she was born to Guiseppe Lalumia’s first wife. I have no records as to when this first wife died or under what conditions, but he then married his second wife, Rosina (Rosa), and the family grew with the addition of three boys and one girl.
The Lalumia children were:
Calogero (Ciro) (Carl Joseph) 1903-1982
Providenza (Florence) 1907-1990
Antoni (Anthony Joseph) 1909-1991
Matthew Joseph 1914-1985
In future posts I’ll be touching base with various members of as I write about various aspects of Rudolph Valentino’s life. Even though their lives weren’t as public as the life that Rudolph Valentino lead, many of my relatives had lives full of variety and accomplishment.
Simeoni, Silvia, Luisa Frova and Mario De Curtis. “Inequalities in infant mortality in Italy.” Italian Journal of Pediatrics 45, (2109) Article number: 11
Markel, Howard. “For the Welfare of Children: The Origins of the Relationship between US Public Health Workers and Pediatricians.” American Journal of Public Health 90, No. 6 (2000): 893-899.
In the April 15, 1922 issue of Pantomime Magazine, Rudolph Valentino was asked a series of questions aimed at revealing his “psychological profile.” Entitled Read ‘Em and Know ‘Em–A ‘Mental’ Photograph of Rodolfo Valentino, Valentino answered questions ranging from his favorite virtue (honor and modesty) to his ideas of happiness (a loving wife and children), unhappiness (loneliness), and many other questions…including “Who is your favorite poet?” Valentino responded “Dante Alighieri”.
Dante Alighieri (born c. May 21–June 20, 1265, Florence [Italy]—died September 13/14, 1321, Ravenna) is today being celebrated in Italy to mark the start of events to honor the 700th year of his death.
March 25 was picked last year to celebrate the man known to Italians as the “supreme poet” because most scholars believe his fictional journey through hell, purgatory and heaven — as told in the “Divine Comedy” — starts on this day.
According to Italian President Sergio Mattarella, Dante is still relevant in the modern world because of the “universality” of that masterpiece.
I studied the Divine Comedy in college and, apparently, so did my parents. I pulled off my bookshelf a copy of the “first annotated edition of the Italian text” which was published in 1909, with subsequent printings in 1911 and 1913. This edition, edited and annotated by C.H. Grandgent, Professor of Romance Languages, Harvard University includes fascinating diagrams to help the reader on the journey. I wish I had this edition in hand when I studied this work!
In another coincidence that occurred just a few days ago, I reconnected with a well-known plein air artist, Frank LaLumia, whose family shares the same hometown in Sicily (Campofelice di fitalia) and the same name as my family with a slight variation of the spelling (although on his website the name appears at times as one word, just like my name because of site formatting.) I’ve know that some of the families coming to America went, not only to New York, but also to New Orleans among other destinations. In fact, when I was a child during the mid-1950’s visitors from New Orleans came to visit family in Lodi, New Jersey, bringing their own Coca Cola because they claimed the “recipe” was different than what was sold in the North! (I don’t know if that was really true or not!)
However, some of the New Orleans branch moved up to Chicago…and my new contact was born there. Years later, he resided in Santa Fe, New Mexico and then moved to Trinidad, Colorado, just over the border. As a long time resident of New Mexico, we’re about a long day’s drive away.
In his Artist Statement (2017), Frank discusses his Contemporary Watercolors this way (excerpt):
My series of Contemporary Watercolors was born in Hell, and has been rising ever since. In the 1980’s, it was sparked by a profound inspiration with the work of Dante Alighieri. The DIVINE COMEDY, (and particularly the INFERNO), was perfect for this concept. The subject matter in my series is evocative rather than descriptive or literal, lending itself perfectly to the idea of ‘found’ or discovered’ painting. And what better place to exploit the expressive potential of the medium itself?
So, on Dante Day, I am celebrating all the “found” connections between the mind of Rudolph Valentino, the art of Frank LaLumia, and a new branch of the family.
In July 2020 I was once again digging through bins of photos and personal items related to my family. Suddenly, I had an overwhelming urge to delve into the life of Rudolph Valentino…On my other blog named Open Range Ramblings I have recounted how I came to be inspired by the legendary racehorse, Secretariat. The connection came out of the blue late one night …and the same thing happened that July 2020 evening. Suddenly, it was as if Rudolph Valentino had become part of my life.
A series of rapidly unfolding coincidences, synchronicities, and “signs” cemented my feeling that a connection was there….
Just to begin…
Rudy Valentino Loved His Pasta…And So Do I!
…and he made great spaghetti sauce…or, as we call it…gravy.
I hope you will enjoy the posts that follow…The Table of Contents tab shows the posts/links in order of when published.
NOTE:Posts which pertain to Valentino and specifically to my family members are numbered, starting with “1.” (this post).