Vito Parente has good reason to be celebrating these days. The president of Carroll Garden’s Van Westerhout Cittidini Molesi Cultural and Social Club is breathing new life into the organization.
He is navigating the Italian social club scene onto new turf at a time when change is not just inevitable, but almost necessary as it faces an aging membership.
Parente, who is 48, has a presence that commands attention. Blue-eyed with white, wavy hair, he is wired to energize and please those around him.
His excitement resonates when he speaks of his plans to combine activities with his Molese members with that of the Carinesi (Sicilian) Club in Bensonhurst, of which he is also a member. “This has never been done before,” he proudly boasts, “but it’s time that as Italians living in America who belong to social clubs…. that we are friends first, and Italians second.”
Historically, Italian social clubs are male only and independent reflections of their home towns. They are social outlets. In the past, hardworking immigrants such as Red Hook’s longshoremen could hang out with their “paisani,” play cards, or just pass time away. As Parente pointed out, there was a time when most women stayed home, men worked, and after dinner with the family, they would go to the club to unwind with the guys.
That simplicity no longer exists. Times have changed, he emphasized. “Now men come home and help with dinner, put up a wash and do homework with the kids, because some wives are out working, too.” He would like to see more social events involving women and grown children.
Though he was born in Mola, but lived his whole life in Brooklyn and Staten Island, Parente sets himself apart from the Italian-born members who have clung to their Molese identities in their adopted homeland.
He grew up on 3rd Place and Court Street by the statue of St. Lucy. His older sister married the owner of the nearby Mola Pizzeria. When he was eight, the family moved to Bensonhurst. American friends and culture suited his fancy just fine.
Marriage, a family and the loss of his father brought him full circle to the ballad to his Molese roots. Today, his home has the European touches of a villa in Italy – a backyard that could be overlooking the Amalfi coast.
While Parente is a soccer fan, as most of the senior members of the club are, he believes that may not be true for some of the younger members he is trying to recruit.
In a recent renovation, he made sure there were two big screens: one for members who watch soccer; the other for those who don’t. He wants newer members to feel that they can stop by for a drink and catch up with friends without imposing on the older members, whom whole-heartedly enjoy their soccer matches as well as their sometimes heated, mostly political, discussions.
It’s a new generation
Parente wants to provide an environment that matches the lifestyle of the younger generation. The hard working men of their grandparents era who, in addition to their jobs, worked in their gardens to provide food at relatively little cost throughout the winters.
The next generation is more likely to have been formally educated and reared as intellectuals, educators, financiers, lawyers, businessmen and even musicians. They sport tablets, iPads and smart phones while still living their parent’s culture, and sometimes, speaking their dialects.
While many of their parents were longshoremen and other blue-collar workers, many were able to seek formal education and moved into roles as business and store owners, and other areas of prestige, such as Michael Pesce, a neighborhood youth who became a U.S. Appellate Court Judge. Their business presence and prominence was greatly felt in the neighborhood and gave it the community appeal it has maintained through the years. Newer members face a different challenge particularly because their connection to Red Hook is not as rooted as their parents’.
The Van Westerhout Club (named for a 19th century musician who was born in Mola to a Molese mother and a Dutch father) was formed in 1960 by 14 mostly youthful immigrant men from Mola di Bari. They preferred starting their own club, rather than joining other Molese Clubs in the neighborhood whose memberships were older.
The Mola Social Club on Columbia Street had a soccer team that was in the Eastern District Soccer League. They played their games at Red Hook Park.
Members of the Circolo Cittadini Molese Club on Smith Street originated the Miss Mola contest and dinner dance.
The Van Westerhout founders were students with part time jobs in printing shops, factories and food stores. They rented basement space on Summit Street, across from St. Stephen’s Church. Unofficially, they formed a soccer team and played behind 142’s, jokingly naming their teams “Team Mozzarella” and “Team Pizzeria.” They played with members of the Pozzallo Sicilian Club that is still on Henry Street.
In 1976, they merged with the Circolo Cittadini Molesi Club and continued the tradition of the annual Miss Mola dinner dance. In 1978, the founders collectively purchased a building on 4th Place and Court Street. Their colorful garden and the patron-saint statue of the Addolorata, nestled in a small gazebo-like shrine has quietly stood since. Many things have changed in the neighborhood, but one could depend on the tolerance and endurance of the Van Westerhout Club to remain intact.
According to a club member, in 1955 alone, 200 male teens emigrated from Mola di Bari to Red Hook seeking opportunity in a place becoming more like Mola. The support of a social club was important for these immigrants to adjust to their new country, overcome language barriers, and plan their careers.
When they arrived at our shores, they witnessed the harsh realities of undisputed waterfront crime. In the 1960s, they watched as drug wars began to occupy the streets they planted their hardworking roots in. In the 1970s they saw family and loved ones make a slow but deliberate exodus to neighboring areas, suburbs and other states to flee the uncertainty of Red Hook’s survival.
In the 1980s they contended with their neighborhood being renamed – from Red Hook to Carroll Gardens – never anticipating the impact of its economical gain – or loss – for those who stayed or for those who left.
This led to the nineties and hipster gentrification, who brought along their myriad dogs, restaurants and bars, and greater real estate values.
Those who stayed, watched their homes become more valuable than they ever imagined. Those who left suffered the jabbing pain of hindsight.
Most recently came the particularly touchy territorial conflict between the newcomers, and the aficionados and old-timers of Red Hook.
Through wise and aging eyes, Molesi members witnessed this evolution from their chairs outside the club. They talked; they sighed. They played more cards and cheered more soccer.
Their sidewalk existence got to the curiosity of some of the new neighbors. Many of them often associated them with the mob. This is an unfortunate but all-too-real stereotyping that plagues Italians. Those vibrant, opportunistic members remained steadfast creatures of habit.
Faithful to Mola
Inside, while membership rose and fell through the years, they remained the pillars of their Molese ancestry, providing male devotees and carriers for the Procession of the Addolorata, hosting the annual dinner dance that celebrates the selection of Miss Mola, and kept alive one of the most sacred and crucial customs of all – the Molese dialect.
This dialect has not been spoken in Mola since Italy’s educational system instituted Dante’s spoken word as the official, unified language. Children in Mola were being taught Italian, while many of their parents or grandparents, who had emigrated to America, were still speaking Molese.
In fact, Molese visitors who come to America now are quite impressed that these Molese Americans – often friends and relatives – are fluently speaking the ancestral tongue. They are also acutely aware that the Molese ancestry and solidarity is preserved here more so than in Mola. 
I was invited to several of the club’s celebratory events over the past several months. I was not surprised by the friendliness, caliber and congeniality of the members. There was no evidence of rank among them, whether they were cooking, playing cards or debating issues. There was no telling who was the retired longshoreman or who was the judge.
I connected with some members on a more personal level when I became involved with a garden project that allowed me to visit some members homes. This was especially meaningful since my own father was a gardener and a farmer. Here is where I was able to get a glimpse into the modest yet accomplished lives of these life-loving immigrants whose generosity to their families and friends was overwhelming.
As a native of Red Hook, I was guilty myself of not understanding the mysteries of the club’s mysterious facade. Despite having half Molese bloodline, spending every summer’s end at the Festa della Madonna as a child, attending St. Stephen’s Church and even attending one or two Miss Mola dances with my Molese friends, the nameless men whom I passed by for years as I walked on Court Street remained elusive to me.
But thinking about it, many of the establishments that as Red Hookers came to love, were owned by these members. The House of Pizza and Calzone on Union Street, renowned for their Baresi calzones made with cheese and ham, and deep fried until golden brown, was owned by members Onofrio Gaudioso and John Teutonico.
We were heartbroken as a neighborhood to see them go, but thankfully, all the recipes were handed down to the new owner, Paul D’Agostino.
Many new to the neighborhood may not recall Latticini Baresi, on Union Street just a few storefronts from the House of Pizza. Owned by member Joe Balzano, his freshly made cheeses were reminiscent of Mola. I remember going there each Saturday to buy basket cheese for my grandmother, and at Easter time, the soaked grain we needed to make the traditional grain pie with ricotta, orange rind, and sugar (pasteria di grano.)
Members Allegrino and Michael Sale owned Good Food Supermarket on Court Street by Third Place, which is now Investors Bank – whose COO is a newer Van Westerhout member, Domenick Cama.
There was John and Frank’s Hero Shop on Columbia between Coles and Luquer Streets. Owners John Verna and Frank Rotondi may not have been in business as long as Defonte’s on the next corner, but they were a staple in the area. Frank’s Luncheonette at 365 Smith Street is still owned by member Frank Martino.
The members are not all as well known or even high profiled as Judge Michael Pesce, whose own career was greatly supported by members of the Van Westerhout Club.
Pesce was a young lawyer at the Legal Aid Society active in Buddy Scotto’s Independent Democratic club of South Brooklyn. His gained election to the NY State Assembly in 1973 with the help of his fellow club members.
Other members or officers such as Vito Parente and Vito Pietanza, while not professionally visible in the area, are owners of businesses outside of Red Hook/Carroll Gardens. They and those like them, still contribute to the prosperity, diversity and overall talents and successes of the club’s accomplished member base.
Last summer I was able to talk to some of the new members, including Frank Sale, Richard Battista, Nick Pesce and Peter Mancini. While all are related to existing members, they did not know each other before joining.
Getting to know one another, they have discovered a common bond. They share many of the same views. Some visit Mola yearly, others sporadically. But they each value their ancestry and the club’s role in maintaining that brotherhood.
They are honored to be receiving the torch being passed onto them and look forward to meeting new friends, to have a place to network, and enjoy the social pastime of sports and other gatherings where the meals (incredible Molese dishes cooked by members) take center stage.
The younger members understand that some of the older members are resistant to change. They wholeheartedly understand where the senior members are coming from. This 55 year-old sanctuary has stood the test of time – their way. “We’re not here to take over,” said Frank Sale, “we’re here to carry on.”
When I asked them about the gentrification of Carroll Gardens, they seemed to unanimously agree that they recognize the hipsters as artists and entrepreneurs. They believe in time, with more of their own public events, neighbors will come to appreciate them for their worth as a culture who has remained steadfast and traditionally loyal to their roots.
One Comment
Great article, Mary Ann!!! I remember Latticini Baresi very well. When they closed while I was on vacation, my mother broke the news to me as if there had a been a death in the family.