When I was very young, I thought everyone was like me. I soon came to discover that this was not the case. As I reflect, I realize that my life has been anything but ordinary and consequently, I want to share as much as I can remember before I am unable to do so. I will begin at the beginning...I was born on September 9, 1948 to Albert Pratz and Anne Carmine Mauro in Lying-In Hospital located in Manhattan in the heart of New York City. I was to learn later that mother had four pregnancies but I was the only one successfully delivered and consequently, one of the descriptors that would forever be attached to me was "Only Child" - often said in a derisive manner. From all the research that I have been able to do, Lying-In Hospital no longer exists. The doctor who delivered me was Dr. McLean apparently known to the society women of the day. At the time of birth, my father was a member of the NBC Symphony Orchestra under Arturo Toscanini possibly the finest and most illustrious orchestra ever created in the United States. Toscanini was given complete power to have the best musicians in the world. I was told that after the War, there was one spot for a violinist. Over 200 people auditioned for the sole position. My father got it.

Let me digress and go back in time for much of who I am came from who my parents were and who their people were. My mother's parents came to Canada as young people from Southern Italy.  My mother's mother was Marietta Fortezza the youngest of five children born in Cosenza, Calabria, Italy.  Pretty and precocious, Marietta was definitely spoiled.  Her parents tried to send her to school both in Italy and in Canada where they eventually settled.  She didn't like school and refused to attend and consequently, my grandmother could neither read nor write.  The Fortezza family appear to be a very interesting family because in my research they moved frequently, not just from house to house but from town to town, which back in the 1800's could not have been a simple thing to do.  (One of my cousins who has done quite a both of research including the DNA tests contends that they were part gypsy -  maybe so!)  My grandmother travelled to Port Arthur, Ontario, Canada in 1901 at approximately 8 years of age.  She travelled with her older brother, Francisco (Frank) and her mother and came through Ellis Island where the family was actually "held" for three days until a nice Anglo-Saxon lady who could speak Italian vouched for my Great-Grandmother that indeed she was travelling to Canada to meet her husband Giuseppe (Joseph).  My mother shared two stories that her mother told her about the trip over.  One story she told was that the Captain of the ship (S.S. Washington) thought she was cute and would bring up to the "top" of the ship and the other was that she did not like being at Ellis Island because "they" gave her an injection of something!

Now the story of my grandfather is steeped in intrigue and mystery.  My grandfather, Arturo Mauro,also came over from Southern Italy from a village called Mangone in the province of Cosenza.  His "father" was Angelo Gaetano Mauro and Arthur would learn when he was approximately 18 that he was adopted.  The family was given money for his care and Arthur told my mother that remembered going to a larger town called Paterno to get money.  He also remembered having a man come to see him once.  The man had a carriage with beautiful horses and Arthur had to "kiss his ring" which would indicate that the man was something other than a parish priest within the Catholic Church.  Arthur never understood why he got white bread when his brothers and sisters ate brown bread and he never understood why he went to school and they did not.  The man questioned him as to how  he was being  cared for and asked him questions to make certain that he knew how to read in both Italian and Latin.  The man seemed satisfied with Arthur's answers and went away.  When Arthur was approximately 11 years old in 1901, Arthur was taken from the home and he and his "father" came by way of England to Canada.  I cannot imagine what kind of a journey that must have been for a peasant from Southern Italy and a young boy.  The stories handed down in the family is that Angelo with Arthur by his side proceeded to eke out a living mainly by working on building the trans-Canada railroad and Arthur would go to school when he was able.  When Arthur was 18, Angelo told him that he, Angelo, had to return to Italy because that was where his wife and "real" family were.  As my mother used to say, "Angelo told Arturo, 'You can go back to Italy or stay here in Canada.  I cannot force you because you are not my real son.' " This disclosure would haunt Arthur for the rest of his life!