February 1942 marked a dark chapter in American history, perhaps the cruelest month on the home front during the World War II years. On February 19, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, ordering thousands of West Coast unnaturalized Italian and German immigrants to leave their homes, jobs, and communities, just two months after labeling them "enemy aliens."
In California alone, more than 10,000 Italian immigrants were forced to evacuate designated protected zones such as coastal areas and regions near military bases, often with only days' notice. Streets, neighborhoods, and entire towns were suddenly off-limits to these "potentially dangerous" people. In the Contra Costa County town of Pittsburg, where Beneath the Sicilian Stars begins, about 22 percent of the local population was uprooted because the town contained critical sites, including Camp Stoneman and the Columbia Steel Plant.
But the numbers and labels only tell part of the story. These evacuated individuals were longtime residents who had spent decades working to support their families, their communities, and the United States economy. Many had sons and grandchildren serving in the U.S. Armed Forces. After all, up to 1.5 million Italian Americans served during World War II. Some evacuated "enemy aliens," like Rosina Criscuolo of Monterey, whose son and nephew were killed during the attack on Pearl Harbor, were Gold Star parents.
Most were senior citizens, according to a report in The Hartford Sentinel, with an average age of 70. Ninety-seven-year-old Pittsburg resident Placido Abono was among those ordered to evacuate, despite being bedridden. A resident of 53 years, he was reportedly removed on a stretcher.
When I shared this article during a presentation at the Pittsburg Historical Museum, at least two of Mr. Abono's great-grandchildren were in the audience. It was a stark reminder that this is not abstract history. If you are Italian American, they could have been your grandparents or great-grandparents, too.
A few days after Mr. Abono was featured, the Oakland Tribune ran a front-page article on "Grandma Firpo," an Alameda resident since 1872. Adelaide Firpo had two sons who served in the U.S. Army during World War I and a grandson stationed at Pearl Harbor on the day of Japan's attack. In the featured image, she holds his portrait, not yet knowing whether he survived. Yet her hometown was suddenly off-limits to her, despite the fact that she had purchased $1,000 in defense bonds to "lick Hitler and that fellow Mussolini," and had applied for U.S. citizenship just five months before receiving her evacuation order.
But, of course, West Coast Italian residents weren't the only ones affected. The same period saw Japanese Americans across the Western United States—including babies, children, and American citizens—forcibly removed in far greater numbers and sent to War Relocation Camps.
Japanese Family at Fort Missoula - Historical Museum at Fort Missoula
While schools are finally teaching the hidden history of Japanese American internment, most young people remain unaware of what happened to Italian immigrants during this time.
I hope you'll join me in sharing these forgotten stories and in pushing for greater awareness of how policy decisions uprooted generations, affecting not only those directly impacted but also their descendants who are still seeking answers, understanding, and ways to avoid history's echoes.
