As I bring this journey through our family’s history to a close, I find myself contemplating the weight of our names and the threads that weave together the tapestry of our past.
In the tale of Arthur C Dale, I discovered not just a lineage, but a narrative of resilience, loss, and the enduring legacy of familial bonds.
Throughout the nearly five-century-old saga, I’ve allowed myself to make assumptions, to connect the dots of our family’s narrative. And in this final assumption, I contemplate the absence of my own great grandfather, Dr. John T Dale, and the implications it holds for Arthur’s story.
Arthur Dale may have never known his father, but he found father figures in his grandfather Nicholas Galatas, Uncle J.A. Galatas and his uncle Francis Bildstein, who imparted upon him the skills and values that shaped his character.
His upbringing amidst a family of shipbuilders in Bonfouca instilled in him a deep appreciation for boats. While his Uncle Francis Bildstein was able to tap into Arthur’s creative traits in engraving. And yet, the tumultuous events of history—the Civil War, the influx of Italian immigrants, and the tragic lynching of 1891—cast a shadow over his life and legacy.
The clash of cultures, the resentment towards newcomers, and the personal struggles within Arthur’s own marriage echo the societal upheavals that defined the era. And from the descendants of the Maestri-Dale families, we inherit not just a legacy, but a profound connection to the historical drama that shaped our lives.
Historical records suggest that the Galatas family played a significant role in the anti-Italian sentiment of the time, while the sentiments of Francois Bildstein are palpably reflected in his artistic renderings. The lynching of Italians brings Sister Desolina Maestri, a Sacred Heart Statue and Mother Cabrini to New Orleans to improve race relations or perhaps facilitate a Coup d’état.
The outrage when Arthur told the family he had fallen in love with an Italian girl.
Nicholas Galatas was the Sheriff of Saint Tammany Parish and a leader of the Know Nothing Movement, an anti- immigration organization.
In the mid-1800s, Nicholas Galatas held the esteemed position of sheriff in Saint Tammany Parish. His legacy was carried forward by his son, Joesph A. Galatas, who made his mark by establishing a business on Conti & Dauphine in 1886, coinciding with the flourishing of the area known as Little Palermo.
After the tumultuous events of the Italian lynchings, J.A. Galatas sought new horizons in Mobile, where he delved into the saloon business until his passing. Meanwhile, his son Richard Galatas made his home in Chicago.
Richard Galatas, in particular, led a life that intertwined with the darker corners of society. Notably, he survived a harrowing encounter where he was shot in the face, while his assailant was fatally shot by a policeman. Richard’s ventures extended to owning a speakeasy in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and he was reputedly the mastermind behind the infamous Kansas City Massacre.
The White Front Cigar Store, owned by Richard Galatas, stood as a notable establishment, strategically located just a stone’s throw away from the Arlington Hotel. This proximity facilitated a fertile ground for potential interactions among individuals entrenched in underworld activities. It’s intriguing to note that the Arlington Hotel served as a rendezvous point for Robert Maestri and New York Mob boss Frank Costello, although any direct connection between Maestri and Galatas remains veiled in mystery, fueling speculation about the depths of their involvement in the clandestine world of organized crime.
Lazard Maestri (1884 – 1943), laid to rest in the Maestri-Dale Family tomb, was involved in law enforcement in New Orleans during the early 1900s.
Back in 1993, right after Uncle Arthur’s funeral, I had a talk with Uncle Clearance. I was curious about a family secret and why my maw-maw had sent her husband to a mental institution. Then, I asked about this Lazard Maestri guy in the family tomb.
Uncle Clearance was old-school cool, like he belonged in a different era. Looking back, I remember his response with a bit of a smile.
He leaned in and said, “Kid, you want me to spill the beans and risk getting kicked out of the family? I’m too old for that.”
Then with a subtle gesture accompanied by a tug at his suit lapel. “You know,” he hinted, his words cloaked in mystery. Perplexed, I admitted, “I’m not sure I follow.” With a wink, Uncle Clearance repeated the gesture on his lapel saying “you know“.
Back then, I didn’t fully get what he meant, I thought he was hinting that Lazard was a homosexual… but now I know, Uncle Clearance meant something else entirely.
Jenny Maestri sues Francois Bildstein (Arthur’s employer) in 1925, yet four years later she give his name to her last born Maestri Bildstein Dale.
In the aftermath of the Civil War, the landscape shifted—demographics danced, power tangled in a showdown. Enter Jenny and Arthur, a tale as timeless as Shakespeare himself played out with All That Jazz in New Orleans.
The Maestri and Dale families, with their divergent backgrounds and conflicting values, find themselves entangled in a web of historical forces and personal dramas. Arthur, with his proud lineage of French heritage, and Jenny, hailing from a family of street savvy Italian immigrants, stand at the center of this swirling storm.
Their love story, filled with passion and challenges, serves as a mirror to the timeless conflict between tradition and change. It embodies the struggle between the old-world values upheld by the Dales and the forward momentum represented by the Maestri family.
As Arthur and Jenny navigated through societal pressures and family duties, their individual fates become intertwined with the larger narrative of their families’ histories. Their journey vividly portrays the clash between deeply-rooted customs and the ever-shifting currents of societal evolution.
