Summary

In August 1920, a tragic accidental shooting led to the death of six-year-old Joseph Graziano in Syracuse, NY, and the family's subsequent concealment of the true circumstances of his death with a fabricated story of drowning.

Abstract

The Graziano family faced a devastating loss with the accidental shooting death of young Joseph Graziano in Syracuse, NY. The incident occurred when Joseph, at six years old, was fatally wounded by a .22 caliber bullet from a gun inadvertently left accessible by his older brother, Salvatore. Overwhelmed by grief from the loss of Joseph, as well as their daughter Rose just three years prior, the family chose to shield themselves and subsequent generations from the painful truth by creating a cover story that Joseph had drowned. This narrative was maintained for a century until the author, Joseph's nephew and namesake, uncovered the true story through genealogical research and historical newspaper archives. The revelation brought surprise and a deeper understanding to the family, shedding light on the possible reasons for Uncle Charlie's (Salvatore's) lifelong struggle with alcoholism and the family's decision to hide the truth to protect Salvatore from the burden of guilt.

Opinions

The author expresses a deep appreciation for the resilience and sacrifices of their grandparents, who faced immense personal grief and the challenge of preserving family unity in the wake of tragic losses.
There is a sense of empathy for Salvatore, known as Uncle Charlie, who likely carried the weight of responsibility for his brother's death, potentially leading to his issues with alcohol.
The act of uncovering the truth is seen as a positive step, bringing closure and understanding to the family's history without causing harm, as those directly involved have passed away.
The author reflects on the importance of historical accuracy and the value of genealogical research in piecing together the genuine narratives of one's ancestors.

Death in Syracuse NY, August 1920

Giuseppa Graziano ran from the kitchen when she heard the shot. Staggering out of his brother Salvatore’s room was Joseph. He looked at his mother, too traumatized to cry or wince. Their eyes locked for a split second. Then, as Giuseppa ran to catch him, Joseph fell into her arms, blood soaking his shirt.

Giuseppa screamed through her tears for help. Melchiore, her husband, ran to them. He scooped Joseph up and together they took Joseph to the Hospital of the Good Shepherd in Syracuse, NY. There, a .22 caliber bullet was removed from Joseph’s abdomen. He lingered in critical condition before passing away. Joseph was six years old. Why, his mom and dad asked, why?

Their grief plumbed the depth of a sadness no one should bear. Just three years earlier, their beautiful daughter, Rose, passed away at just three years old. Cancer attacked little Rose’s eye. Her suffering, then her passing. How much grief can one bear?

But here they were. Their beloved Joseph also dead.

His parents didn’t know this, but just a month earlier, Salvatore, 15, had purchased the gun from a friend. Salvatore told his parents that he was cleaning the gun with Joseph in the room. He claims the gun wasn’t loaded when he placed the gun in a case. The case was not locked because Salvatore had lost the key.

Salvatore said that while he was not in the room, Joseph must have found a bullet, loaded the gun, and played with it. It had to have gone off accidentally.

The days and weeks that followed were very hard on Giuseppa and Melchiore, the older girls and especially Salvatore. At 15, Salvatore was the oldest boy. He had two older and two younger sisters, and one younger brother. Clementina was 18, Vita (Clara) was 17, Elena was 12, Constance (Connie) was 10 and Anthony (Tony) was 2. Giuseppa was also pregnant with Dominic, who was born in February of 1921. Dominic was my father.

The story I just related is what actually happened on that sad day in August of 1920. However, that was not the story the family told over these past 100 years. The truth, in this case, was evidently too much to bear, and had to be shrouded for the sake of the family.

The little boy who died on August 12, 1920, was my uncle, and I am his namesake, Joseph Graziano. The story that had been handed down was Joseph drowned while playing with friends in a river.

My Uncle Tony would tell that story. My Dad would tell that story. Uncle Tony was only two at the time of the accident. My Dad would not be born until February, 1921. So they could only repeat the story they were told.

My cousin Anthony Graziano, grandson of Uncle Tony, is very interested in genealogy. He had done a tremendous amount of work on our family history. What he wrote about little Joseph intrigued me:

“Family lore is confirmed on video. Anthony H. tells the story of Joseph (3–4 yrs.) being pushed by some kids into the river, his body pulled from the river bottom as family, neighbors, friends, ‘everyone from the neighborhood watched in horror”.

I was intrigued by this quote. How horrible a sight this must have been. I love history and kept thinking that certainly, this had to be in a local newspaper. So I searched and searched but could not find anything. Finally, I paid for a membership in a genealogy site and a newspaper site. I didn’t know the date, other than 1920.

Then, I found it! But it wasn’t a drowning…

You can imagine my surprise! For 100 years, the story was a tragic drowning. There I was, just wanting to read a contemporary account from 1920, and I discovered the truth.

I called my cousin Anthony right away! He was shocked, but also happy that I uncovered what really happened. I called my brothers and sisters. Everyone was astonished. We started talking about what little we knew about our aunts and uncles. You see, my dad, Dominic, was the baby of the family. His brother Salvatore, who we all referred to as Uncle Charlie, was 16 years older than my Dad. Let me tell you a little about what I know about Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie was the only member of our extended family who had a drinking problem. Growing up, my dad would get calls from Gertrude, Charlie’s wife, to please come over because Charlie was drinking again. He lived close to us. He rarely came by, but when he did, he would pull into the driveway, open the glove box where he kept a flask of whiskey, and take a drink before coming in. He always smelled of alcohol.

I didn’t know Uncle Charlie well, as I’m sure my parents shielded us from him. But I can only imagine the heavy burden he carried all his life, knowing he may have contributed to his brother’s death. Perhaps my grandparents, along with their older children, concocted the drowning story to take the spotlight off Uncle Charlie. I really can’t come up with another explanation for the drowning story.

My grandparents, all of my aunts and uncles, as well as my mom and dad are gone now. No one in my family who was alive then is alive now to fill in more details. Obviously, none of us were curious enough years ago to ask. I’m thankful that I was finally curious enough to find out what happened, and lucky enough to have found that article.

Seeking details about young Joseph Graziano’s death in August of 1920 unearthed a deep family secret. Finding this truth 100 years from the event hurts no one. One more family history detail has been explained. What I have come to appreciate are the heartaches and challenges my grandparents experienced. My grandmother passed away the year I was born. My grandfather, when I was eleven. I knew of him, but I didn’t know him. One thing is for certain, I appreciate them and their sacrifices deeply now.