We'd already seen how Michael Imperioli's great-grandfather, Raffaele, built a life for himself in America while not always staying within the bounds of the law.

Now, turning to a different line on Michael's mother's family tree, we encountered another independently-minded character, Alberto Luzzi, Michael's maternal grandfather.

Alberto was born in New York City in 1914, the son of Italian immigrants.

He essentially grew up on the streets, and his childhood sounds like something out of a movie.

His life as a kid reminded me of like "The Little Rascals" or like "The Bowery Boys," like this, you know, gang of little kids like wandering around Manhattan, getting into trouble, and you know, stealing like, you know, pastries and whatever they were doing.

I remember him telling a story about the cop.

There was like the local cops, that they were always kind of getting in trouble, but one of the kids was older, not brothers, but some guys that they ran with, and they would actually put, the cop would put the gun down and fight the kid, like that was like how they would kind of resolve like a beef in the neighborhood.

Huh.

And if the guy beat the cop, somehow that would be like, you know, okay, or the idea of that is just bizarre.

Like that's how they settled stuff in the neighborhood.

Alberto's troubles largely stemmed from a single source.

When he was a young boy, his father, Giovanni Luzzi, had a job cleaning train cars for what would become the New York City subway system.

It was difficult and dangerous work, and it led to a terrible tragedy.

"Certificate of death, full name, John B. Luzzi, date of death, April 23rd, 1919."

My grandfather was five.

"Age 38, occupation, car cleaner, Interborough."

Interborough was the subway.

Yep.

"The chief cause of his death was shock, crushing of body.

Contributing causes were dragged by train, accidental."

Mm-mm-mm.

I had heard that story from when I was a kid.

Yeah.

And it always was very disturbing thinking of, you know, great-grandfather being, 'cause I knew my great-grandmother, she was alive.

Mm-hmm.

No, horrible way to die.

I mean, yeah, and he was so young.

Giovanni was struck by a train in the Bronx while working on a stretch of elevated track.

And though the story of his death had been passed on, the details of his life had been forgotten.

We set out to recover them, starting in Oriolo, a mountain town in Calabria.

Giovanni was born here in 1879, and likely spent his entire childhood here before marrying and immigrating to America sometime around 1905.

This is fascinating.

Do you feel a connection?

I do, yeah.

My grandfather always talked about Calabria, which I guess he finally went to when he was an, you know, an adult.

But he used to make, he called it Calabrese toast, Calabrian toast, which was bread with olive oil, salt, pepper, and paprika.

Mm.

My grandmother would make it for him 'cause he didn't cook.

Even something simple like that, he didn't really make much, but... That was home.

Yeah, I mean, Calabrians, he always said this, I'm not making this up, but he always said Calabrians are known for having hard heads, hardheaded, stubborn.

Mm-hmm.

Which he certainly was, my grandfather.

A certainly stubborn, you know, individual, no doubt.