Mary was the last one to sit down because, for the first time, she was the one wielding the wooden spoon. She waited a minute, savoring the sight of the three people she loved so much, happy, whole, and about to be well-fed. And she sent up a silent prayer of thanks, for when it counted the most, all of the saints had come through for her.
Even St. Valentine.
Author’s Note and Acknowledgments
“Where do you get your ideas?” It’s the most common question people ask authors, and my answer for Killer Smile is simple: The idea for this novel came from history – not only the history of my country, but of my family.
My paternal grandparents, Giuseppe and Mary Scottoline, were compelled to register as “enemy aliens” on February 27, 1942, although they had lived in Philadelphia for thirty years and violated no laws. My grandfather was a laborer and my grandmother a housewife; he was illiterate in both Italian and English, though she had been a schoolteacher in Italy and was literate in Italian. They raised four children: three girls and then a boy – my father, Frank. Ironically, at the same time that Giuseppe and Mary were being registered as enemies of the country, their son, Frank – my father – was serving in the United States Air Force. I learned their story only recently, when my father gave me their alien registration cards shortly before his death. (I include a copy of their registration cards at the end of this book.) I am forever indebted to my father, and to my grandparents, for this novel, and, of course, for much else.
By way of historical background, at the outbreak of World War II, President Roosevelt signed into law a series of presidential orders that identified all Italian-born Americans as “enemy aliens.” The presidential orders compelled Italian-Americans to register as enemy aliens, and some 600,000 registered. The orders also authorized their arrest by the FBI and relocation to internment camps. As a result, more than 10,000 Italian-Americans were evacuated from their homes and places of business, and sent to internment camps around the country.
The major internment sites for Italian-Americans were Fort George Meade in Maryland, Camp McAlester in Oklahoma, Fort Sam Houston in Texas, and Camp Forrest in Tennessee. Italian-Americans were also sent to Fort Missoula, Montana, and any one of the forty-five other internment camps used by the Immigration and Naturalization Service and the Provost Marshal General’s Office.
Some of the Italians interned were visitors to the United States, such as waiters working at the World’s Fair in New York or sailors on visiting cruise ships, but many were Italian-Americans who had lived in the United States for decades without violating any laws or without giving the government any factual basis for designating them as enemies. Some were editors of Italian newspapers, bankers, or other professionals. Many had adult children serving in the United States military, fighting against Axis nations, including Mussolini’s Italy.
Italian-Americans on the West Coast were greatly affected, because its enforcing general, Lieutenant General John DeWitt of the Western Defense Command, was so vigorous in his enforcement of the presidential orders. In addition, the government believed that the coasts of the United States were especially vulnerable to communication with the enemy. Italian-Americans were registered as enemy aliens en masse and as many as 52,000 Italian-Americans on the West Coast had their daily travels confined to “exclusionary zones” and were subject to dusk-to-dawn curfews. For example, the father of baseball great Joe DiMaggio was not permitted to visit his son’s restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf because it lay outside his exclusionary zone. Fishermen and sailors were particularly targeted for this reason. Many were no longer allowed to work as fishermen, and in some instances had their boats seized.
Italian-American residents of the East Coast registered en masse as enemy aliens. They were not permitted to travel without their registration booklet and were subject to inspection and search on demand. Many had their homes searched for flashlights and radios, and this property was confiscated on the belief that it could be used to signal enemy submarines and warships off the East Coast. As on the West Coast, the fishing business on East Coast port cities such as Philadelphia, Boston, and Gloucester were affected. Fishermen were not permitted to fish, even if it supported their families; in Boston alone, 200 fishermen were grounded.
The status of enemy alien was eventually lifted, but the suspicion, hard feelings, and monetary losses remained. To date, no reparations have been demanded or paid to any Italian-American interned and no reimbursement has ever been made to them for any property confiscated. In 1999, as a result of lobbying by the Italian-American community, the United States Congress addressed the treatment of Italian-Americans during World War II, which resulted in House Resolution 2442, acknowledging that the United States violated the civil rights of Italian-Americans during World War II. The bill was passed by the House of Representatives in 1999, in the Senate in 2000, and signed by President Clinton in the same year.
This chapter in American history represents a turbulent confluence of war, law, and family. It wasn’t the first time that civil liberties have been set aside in times of armed conflict, and it won’t be the last. You don’t need me to tell you that history is on a loop. More recently, the September 11 terrorist attacks and the war with Iraq have raised a number of legal issues regarding the suspension of civil liberties during wartime. This summer the Supreme Court will decide questions concerning the rights of “enemy aliens” and “enemy combatants,” including the right to sue in U.S. courts for unlawful detention in internment camps. As long as there is armed conflict – whether abroad or domestic – these legal, political, and emotional issues will recur, and will shape the contours of justice.
My own awareness of the historical context for this novel was heightened greatly by the good works of the National Italian American Foundation, and they get first and deepest thanks here. For those who would like to learn more about the internment, please refer to the following materials: Lawrence DiStasi, Una Storia Segreta: The Secret History of the Italian American Evacuation and Internment During World War II (2001); Stephen Fox, Uncivil Liberties: Italian Americans Under Siege During World War II (2000); Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, All the Laws but One: Civil Liberties in Wartime (1998); Carol Van Walkenburg, An Alien Place: The Fort Missoula, Montana, Detention Camp, 1941-1944 (1995); Gary Glynn, Montana’s Home Front During World War II (1994); Umberto Benedetti, Italian Boys at Fort Missoula, Montana, 1941-1943 (1991); and Bella Vista: An Unseen View of WWII, a television program produced by Kathy Willows and Montanans for Quality Television.
In this regard, special thanks to Umberto Benedetti, a former internee at Fort Missoula whose many books have cast light on the subject, as well as to Alfredo Cipolato, another internee at the Fort, who has educated all of us. I would like to note that in my search for the graves of the Italian internees who died at Fort Missoula, which began at the National Archives and ended at the Catholic cemetery herein described, I discovered a secret: that the memorial markers of the three Italian internees who died at Fort Missoula were paid for not by the United States government, but personally by Mr. Benedetti and Mr. Cipolato. These two men have never been recognized or thanked for their previously anonymous act of generosity and grace. They should have been. Grazie mille.
Thanks to the staff at the National Archives in College Park, Maryland, who helped me find the original files of the internees at Fort Missoula, and a huge hug to my amazing assistant, Laura Leonard, who was by my side all the way, as always. Thanks so much to Director Robert M. Brown at the Fort Missoula Museum and his wife, Claudia, and to staff members Donna McClure, Jocelyn, and most of all, to archivist and gentleman Dale Johnson and his wife, the lovely Coby, librarian and great lady. Happy Birthday, Coby!