Chipoletti Trasente Ancestry






https://drive.google.com/file/d/1CrVknwMeKBj8xlN7l9x1aDl2styX8XYc/view?usp=sharing


Chrystal Mitchell Chipoletti is with Derek Chipoletti and 
3 others
 in Montefredane, Italy.

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/14fyo6yDtwz/








Same town, new century! Italian roots finally in view! Derek met some cousins! And it all started with an inquiry at the local bar…Trasente or Chipoletti??? Next thing we know, cousin Alvaro Trasente appears!  From Derek’s great grandmother, Rosina’s side of the family. Apparently the local mayor is also a distant cousin from the Trasente family line. Lovely little town!


Neal Chipoletti, Sylvio's son, my sister Lucy and me

Derek Chipoletti, whose father is in the picture above, at Antonio and Rosina's graves



October 7, 2022: Neal Chipoletti, Sylvio's son and me at 410 17th Street where the family photo below was taken about 80 years ago





Neal and Derek in Arnold Oct 7, 2022 at the American Legion on 5th Avenue


Antonio Chipoletti and Rosina Trasente



Berdina, Millie, Yolanda Chipoletti and Cecil Catlin


Yolanda Chipoletti Bertoni and Berdina Chipoletti D'Argenzio


Betty Jane Chipoletti

Betty and Rosina


Weido Chipoletti, my uncle, and Frank Chipolette, my father, are brothers, however, somehow my father's last name was spelled incorrectly at birth. The spelling was corrected on my birth certificate to Chipoletti.

Host: Our year long series remembering our veterans sponsored by UPMC Health Plan
continues tonight and the story of Army Veteran Weido Chipoletti

Weido passed away just six years ago just shy of his 94th birthday but his story lives on through his children Sons Jay and Neal
Chipoletti

at the age of 20 Weido Chipoletti went on over 30 bombing missions during World War II for the 515th bomb Squadron


Neal: to ask that of somebody who's not even a legal age to go have a beer in a bar and you're putting your life in on in sacrificing uh time with your family and friends to for our freedom

Host: some of those missions lasted over seven hours and those long range strategic missions had Targets in Italy France Germany Austria Hungary and the Balkans


Jay: he was the nose Gunner so he would go up in the turret and uh defend against uh other planes that would be trying trying to shoot him down


Host: born in New Kensington Pennsylvania about a 20 mile ride to the city of Pittsburgh Weido put Family First and it took a special event with his granddaughter to finally open up about his Tour of Duty

Jay ; he went to Westlake School one time and put a presentation on for the social studies teacher in my in his granddaughter's
class and that's when we started getting out you know it's like oh you got this purple heart and cluster and all these photos

Host: and he recorded those logs on the back of $1 bills he picked up in Italy and survived a number of close calls


Jay: they were flying uh back from a mission and they were shot up they lost the motor uh but they're they're making their way back the pilot said no don't don't go um what we're going to do is
I'm gonna I'm going to try and ditch it and land it and we'll try and get out and he did a remarkable job

Host: Neal Chipoletti honors his father by participating in motorcycle rides that benefit local
veterans


Neal: we donate that back several ways through organizations like
the Liberty house um The Humane
Society's service or shelter to service dogs where our donation helps pay to train those dogs

Host: Eva he had four brothers, two who also served in World War II and his brother Neal was killed during his Tour of Duty and for 10 years following retirement Weido volunteered for gifts for kids
along with another brother and they repaired toys so Weido Chipoletti we thank
you for your service.



https://www.armyaircorps-376bg.com/ssgt-weido-chipoletti-515th-james-p-bishop-crew.html 

S-SGT Weido Chipoletti 515th James P. Bishop Crew








Weido's son, Jay Chipoletti, photo taken in the 1990s ??





VIENNA CITY OF FLAK:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1WYNx2UOkl1fQrpAf0GLJYq75KHfahOO1/view?usp=sharing

VIENNA CITY OF FLAK
Written by First Lieutenant William R. Davis, bombardier.
The air offensive against Europe was on and at it's full
intensity. The 15th Air Force from it's bases in Italy was
carrying the war into the heart of the German Empire not to the
frontiers but completely inside of the fortress and dropping it's
block busters right in the big bozo's lap. As winter began to
set in and October pulled around we could look back on our past
achievements with pride. We had plastered Jerry in the heart of
his industries, his aircraft, and his lines of communication from
the bomb soaked targets of Ploesti, Sofia, Athens, Budapest,
Belgrade and Bologna to the far off bomb line of Beaux Linz Steyr -
Regensberg and Vienna. We had turned our maximum strength against
targets in Germany and Austria. Every day was precious then and
still is. If there was the thinnest chance of getting through to
the target we were off. As the weather began to hamper operations
and the black days of October slid in, oil wherever it might be
was top priority, with war industries and communication next in |
line of total destruction. With Ploesti gone. (I had made two hair
raising trips there including the final one late in August) we
turned to the next oil targets of Vienna and Bleckhammer. The
people of these areas soon felt the full weight of our bombers.
The land of the Strauss Waltzes, beauty, culture, and historical
landmarks was in for total war and would take a beating that they
would never forget "and-we didn't want them to forget". We were
going to remind them which side was winning this war, the one
Adolph Hitler, their wallpaper hanger, had started. But on one
particular day we were bombing a secondary target while the other
part of the 15th Air Force took on the oil targets.

So as a cold windy October day mustered in we drew one of the
toughest targets in Europe, and we didn't care too much about the
way it looked. Just like the old Ploesti days back and back again
to the same targets until they were completely destroyed. The
Vienna South ordnance works was not oil that day but war industries!
We were given what we all called a "Death Trap" heading in an
Easterly direction onto the target and a bomb run of 61 miles with
no evasive. action. The Air Force strategists had picked that
particular heading for some specific reason, probably to insure
maximum destruction of the target. Not even was there a sharp
rally at the end when bombs were away! Straight ahead up into
Czechoslovakia around Bratislava and then we could rally right and
come home, if there was anyone left to come home! Any crew
who has been to Vienna knows that on an easterly heading into the
southeastern part of the city nearly all of the anti aircraft guns
defending the area are brought to bear on the attacking formation.
As 75%-of the anti aircraft guns are concentrated there. 

Next to Berlin, Vienna is the most heavily defended area in the world and covers a much smaller space, this giving the guns a better concentration of fire.

Also with the unheard of long bomb run it was
at no certainty that we would be in flak for at least 15 minutes.
This is due to the fact that the attacking planes have to make a
straight course up "Flak Alley" miles before they reach the city
itself. I had been down that same run before and knew why the old
timers called it "Flak Alley". Jerry will shoot at the bombers with
deadly accuracy from the time they have turned on the initial point
until they have rallied well off the target.
The intense flak lasts from 10 to 15 minutes. Some bombers can't
stand the deadly pounding for such a length of time and many go
down in flames, in spins, or blow up in mid air before they even
reach their goal. Vienna has been fortunate (or unfortunate for
us) enough to pick up all the remaining gunners who fled Ploesti,
Bucharest, and some from nearby Budapest. We were "off to the
races" so to speak, and we were sure that the best team of Flak
| gunners in the war would be trying to fatten their batting averages.

The route out to the target was a nightmare in itself. We
flew through nearly ten tenths cloud cover all types included and
how we missed running into each other and thunderheads is still a
mystery. The soup was awful, at times the wing tips of the lead
plane disappeared and I held my breath until it came back into view.
Our plane was pretty mushy on the controls as we passed the 20,000
foot mark and the air began to thin out. Ice was forming in my
oxygen mask, and it began freezing to my face. Finally we reached
the top and broke into the clear. All of Europe seemed to be under
 a blanket of clouds and I was almost sure we would bomb by Radar
: through the undercast. We bounced on past Klagenfurt, and as the
cold got more intense (52 below) we were coming up on our I.P.
and almost ready to turn down "Flak Alley". The crew manned their
stations. lst Lt. James P. Bishop, pilot age 19, Detroit, Michigan;
Ist Lt. Gregory T. Vanvakerides, Co. Pilot, age 20, Providence,
R.I.; lst Lt. James R. Gill, navigator, age 21, Chicago, Illinois,
myself, Ist Lt. William R. Davis, bombardier, age 22, Richmond, Va.
T/Set James D. Holmes, engineer, age 23, Birmingham, ALABAMA; T/Sgt
John H. Norris radio operator, age 24, Dallas, Texas, Robert
T. Mynatt, Assistant engineer, age 19, Knoxville, Tenn.; 5/Sgt Weido
Chipoletti, Assistant Radio operator, age 20, Arnold Pa.; S/Sgt
Thomas D. Boothby, Armorer gunner age 21, Cherokee, Iowa; S/Sgt
Troy Pennington, tail gunner, age 21, Dew Drop Kentucky.

 The worst was about to come and no one said a word. Gill was

 busy working on his log and I was busy making the last few computations for my bombsight in case I had to take over the lead. I asked
Gill to put my Flak suit on for me ~ they weigh a ton it seems ~ but
he said he was too busy.so I didn't get it on and neither did he.

I pulled it up in front of me as best I could and made myself small
trying to hide behind it. Only my head was sticking out but I could
see everything in the area out of the front windshield. In fact I 
could see too much - flak I mean. I felt the slight bank to the
right and I knew we were turning in for the big show; tickets were
already sold out and the aerial theater would be jammed with flak
and planes. I opened the bomb bay doors; we started on the long

run - 61 miles - every second seemed like a lifetime. I guess I was
plenty scared; Gill was too because he crouched down behind me. He
has an idea that if flak ever hits us in the nose that my body, plus
the Flak Suit Will slow it up quite a bit before it hits him. 
Nice pal - I love him. He always gets cute ideas on the bomb run

to cheer me up. He pushed his mike button, showed me his watch and
said, "Look, Davis, 15 minutes to live, old buddy." Lovely
characters these navigators

___At last the worst came closer. Down the bomb run we ploughed,
still an undercast beneath us. But there was something radically 
wrong - we both sensed it. We hadn't gotten a bit of flak, the
usual killer-diller puff puff! Gill looked at me and I looked at
him; something was amiss ~ or was it? Our puzzle was soon solved.
About two minutes from bombs away we broke into the clear, right
over the heart of the city; the whole area was clear as a bell;

we were just so many clay pigeons for target practice. I knew
immediately why we had not met the usual barrage. They had been
quietly and very cunningly tracking us through the undercast; we
were their prey. They were coming in for the kill; the break in the
clouds was the slaughter house. Here it comes I thought.
It did come, the whole damn works. The first thing I saw
was the target dead ahead right in town. I looked to the right a
split second later, and below me I saw the guns as Vosendorf oil
refinery start shooting. Yipe! yelled Gill, "Did you see what I
saw?" I did much to my sorrow. They had rocket guns mixed in
with the ack-ack something new there. I saw four of them fire,
watched the white trail of smoke they left behind. Counted a slow
fifteen or sixteen and puff, puff; they broke right outside our
window. I stood up to look out the left window and see how the
lead ship was coming along. Our wing tips were almost interlocked.
Then the Flak came in. Not a shot was wasted; they had our altitude
course and speed to the foot, and our bombs were hanging in the open
bomb bays waiting to be hit. The first and last shots of each
battery were in there for perfect strikes. I had never seen such
a heavy concentration of Flak in all my previous missions like that
which was tracking us at the moment.

There was a close one right under my front window. We could
hear the shrapnel tinkling off the metal fuselage. The Flak was
so thick. you could walk on it. It was all over the sky like a wet
blanket, gave me the impression of flying through a snow storm only
this was a black snowstorm. Over the intercom I could hear the other
pilots in the area who had gone ahead of us yelling that they were
hit, some badly, some already going down, some with half a wing shot
away, some with fires in the bomb bays, some with engines out or on
| fire, some with wounded on board, some with rudders, ailerons, elevators, or all controls shot away, some in uncontrollable spins, all
yelling for help or telling us goodbye and we were helpless to give
to them any aid. That was combat at its best or should I say worse.
Just then I saw the lead ship in our formation get a direct hit in
No. 3 engine. It knocked the engine cold. He wobbled a little and
then settled down, feathered the prop and continued on the bomb run.
Finally Bombs away, a sort of relief to me but it was short lived.
 The next hit was scheduled for us. We got it! I jumped! It hit
: us directly between No. 1 and No 2 engines. I was sure both engines
were out, but we didn't wobble. Fear griped us all Two engines on the same side Dead over the center of Vienna. What makes us so
lucky. Just then a whole four gun battery must have gotten us. Four
almost direct hits came in rapidly right up under our bomb bays 
we counted them as they hit. The navigator tapped me on my head
-with each hit one, two, three, four. I waited for something more
to happen. No. 1 engine was out and I was sure it couldn't be
feathered and it was wind milling creating a drag on the side of
the airplane.

We went on, straight ahead, instead of the usual rally there
was still more to come. I thought for a moment we had gotten out
of the Flak, but no - wham bang! Right back in there again it came.
One of the gunners who had priority on us probably stopped for a
half a second to change a hot barrel! Another hit went into our
right wing near the No. 4 engine but the engine seemed not to be
affected, Then about three more were called out by the men in
the waist, very close, they had torn up the rudders and air conditioned the rear fuselage. Another one come up through the nose wheel
doors with a loud crash that caused a draft around my rear anatomy.
They were still trying desperately to knock us down, but that old
B-24 was still in there fighting and was taking their all. The
gunners accuracy was uncanny; every shot was counting. Every second
pulled us farther away from them, but they were determined not to
let us go. I think they were really mad at us! Seemed as though
they had their batteries lined up right along our course ~ out of
the range of one - another one took up just where it left off. Some
more hits again in the rear; then one come~ through the nose, right
above our heads - Wow! A piece of the shrapnel ricocheted off of
something, missed both of us by a hair, then broke through the bomb-
ardiers windshield, and went back down to the ground from which it
had come!

By now we were pulling out of the flak. I looked around; it
was losing us; but one lone eagle eye got in his last shot, and the
rudders took it again. That was all. We were clear of the puff-puff
at last. I had almost forgotten that we-were stiil in serious
trouble - we had a badly crippled plane. It was going to take all
the skill the pilot and co-pilot could muster to get us any distance
from the target much. less home. Home I wondered at that moment 
I could see it fading!

I soon learned how badly we were hit, and it didn't take a college
course to convince me that flak was a deadly weapon when in the
hands of skilled gunners. Attaching a walk-around bottle to my
oxygen mask I squeezed out of the nose and slid along the hatch way
toward the flight deck. It didn't take me a second to realize that
we had run into an old trouble again. I smelled the hydraulic
fluid right away. I was hoping that the gasoline wasn't shot up too.
There was hydraulic fluid all over the bomb bays and the slipstream
was spraying it around with a weird hissing sound. There wasn't
a drop left in the reservoir and the lines were literally ripped to
pieces. The fluid was stretched from the pilot's pedestal all the
way back to the waist windows, soaking everything with its greasy contents. The engineer was back in the bomb bays by now trying
frantically to plug up the lines so we could use the reserve supply;
but it was of no avail. He was soaked in the stuff and at the time
presented a light similar to an American Indian. I looked at him
scrambled up on-the flight deck, his usual confident smile
had gone, I knew we were in bad shape.

I had to laugh when I looked at what was left of the bomb bay
doors. They were so full of holes that it was impossible to count
them, we might as well have left them open as they were so riddled
with holes they looked like a screen door. I sat down at the
radio table; got rid of the walk around bottle, and put on the
interphones. The radio operator was still in the waist at his gun
because we were slowly being left behind - alone - and, Lake
Balaton, fighter heaven, would come along soon. I guess he was
also checking the flak holes back there and seeing if we were
going to hold together. From him I learned that Boothby, our
ball turret gunner had lost his oxygen over the target and had
been unconscious some fifteen or twenty minutes. He had to be
pulled out of his turret by Norris and Pennington and was revived
by them.

Then I began finding out the rest of our trouble, I called
the pilot and asked if there was anything I could do, he said No,
as usual he never liked to alarm the rest of the crew he always
carried the burden himself if he could. By this time we had gone
some 35 miles from the target and had turned right around a corner
of Czechoslovakia and started an heading south that would take us
across the Hungarian Plains and toward home. I then found out
that we had had No. 1 and 2 engines out all that time, and Bishop
had just now managed, by some miracle, to bring No. 2 back in. How
he had done it was beyond me. We had never felt the loss of these
two engines on the left side; had never lost any altitude; hadn't
gone out of control or even lurched; only the airspeed had dropped
off. He had mustered the situation and taken up the loss into the
controls and we knew nothing about it. He was only 19 years old
but he was always at his best in the tight spots... both he and
the co-pilot worked to perfection remaining amazingly calm, cool and
collected all the time. No. 1 engine was shot up so badly it
couldn't be feathered. It was windmilling at 2200 rpm's and putting
a tremendous drag on the left side. I saw the airspeed rock back
and forth from 130 to 170 - up and down.- back and forth. We were
losing a little altitude and the pilot was finding it harder and
harder to keep a straight course with the No. 1 prop windmilling.
They were wrestling with the controls; sometimes were stalling out
I could feel the plane flopping around in the air like a big wounded
bird. Thirty tons of metal is pretty hard to keep up on a straight
course when it is all shot up, crippled and flying on only part of
,its normal power. The pilots were doing a swell job and I knew it.
If we went down I would know that every possible thing that could
be done to. gave us had been done by two kids with an unsurpassed
determination to live, We weren't going down ~ not yet anyhow:

Down the Hungarian Plains we started getting farther and farther
behind until at last we were alone. At least alone from any forma-
tion - we had plenty of company ~ other cripples, I mean. Planes
were scattered all over - engines feathered, fuselages shot away,.
rudders gone, some with injured men aboard, some with dead aboard,
some minus a few members who had left the ship in the excitement.

' But at least we were all still there and none of us hurt. Then
suddenly I saw one of our buddies slide directly under us and turn
off-to the-right-with his-No. 1 engine on fire poor devil - we
all saw him and were pulling for: him to blow it out. He soon
got out of our sight and disappeared. We tried to contact our remaining formation wherever it was. We learned that only four ships
were left. Our leader had disappeared too. He had said over his
radio that he had No. 3 engine feathered, was full of flak holes and
had all of his controls shot away, He was last heard of heading home
flying by automatic pilot. Back in our. ship Gill was directing us
home, Evidently he had looked out and seeing all the props going,
had figured we:were okay. Bishop hadn't told him yet what all the

trouble was. So he called him up and began cussing him out because
he wasn't holding a compass heading and constant airspeed. So I
called him back and told him to take it easy that we were in trouble
and to do the best he could. Bishop was doing all he could to keep
us up. Gill just said "Okay. But why the hell don't you tell me
these things." - and went back to work. By this time Bishop was
flying almost cross controls. The aileron wheel was cocked half
way around and almost full right rudder. Both the pilots ran out
of strength to hold in the right rudder against the tremendous

drag of No. 1 prop so they took the crash axe and proped it in
position. What a way to fly! Bishop tried to set up the auto-
pilot so they could be relieved of the strain. He tried at least 
a dozen time, but it was no use = the system was shot out.

We were at 14,000 feet and holding our altitude. I asked Bishop
what he thought of the situation? He said it wasn't bad now if the
three engines keep running, the rudders didn't fall off, the plane
didn't break in half, we didn't run out of gasoline and didn't run
into any fighters. That was swell! Practically nothing to worry about ~
I tried to tell myself. We knew that all the engines had been hit
but we were praying that they would hold out. I watched the engines
and instruments like a doctor watches a very ill patient. Inside
of me I was just trying to nurse the engines along. "Good old
engines," I said, "You've taken a beating, but don't quit now."
"Come on, come on, babies, run smoothy!; please keep running." And
so they did for the time being anyhow. Far out to our right we
saw a lone B-24 crippled. As we neared Lake Balaton we saw some dark
specs suddenly start diving on it. My heart jumped into my throat -
fighters. They were cut as usual to get the stragglers and cripples.
Where were our escorts? I. listened in on the command radio and the
pilot was yelling desperately for help. They were being attacked
by six M E 109's. We couldn't do a thing to help him - the fighters
were coming in for the slaughter. I only hoped they didn't start
on us next. Then suddenly out of nowhere I saw some P38's cut across
the top.of us and:go over to him. They must have chased the Jerries
away ~ I hope so. I lost the B-24 in the sun then and the P-38's
came back over our way and covered us as we made our way home. I
felt much better now. There's not a better sight in this world than
to see good old American fighters hanging around you. They spell
exit for the Jerry!.

We started making the plane light as we moved out of the fighter
territory. We had now come all the way down the Hungarian Plains,
passed Lake Balaton and were crossing the line into Yugoslavia. The
navigator had to be especially alert now. We had traveled that route
many times before, and both he and I knew where every gun in Yugo
and Hungary was placed. The enlisted men were busy in the waist
jettisoning anything that would reduce our load. Our engines

--were-still holding up-and- we-were-hobbling along-toward the Adriatic
Sea ~ had to be careful of the coastal flak, though, Maybe we could
pull a sneak play in between two areas.

We made the coast in due time, slipped through the flak and
started across the water in the direction that would bring us to the
Italian mainland the quickest. We had let down to 13,000 feet and

our spirits brightened up, and it looked as though we might make it.
If we could only make land then we could bail out in safety if the
engines quit. I noticed the sea as I always do; it was rather calm
that day - only waves about two feet high. Of course if we had

to go into the water, we were in favor of ditching, rather than
bailing out, as the chance of saving the whole crew is much better.
A man who bails out alone in a Mae West is not likely to be found
and will die. But in ditching you have the dinghies and all the crew
together a much better solution. Things were still going fairly well.
I wanted more than ever to get that plane home, so I could see for
myself just how much damage had been done. We must have had at
least 200 flak holes in it. I wanted to get a good look at those:
engines too. Time passed; we had gone down to 10,000 feet now and
suddenly the coast line came in sight about 30 miles distant. I
felt much better; looked like we'd make it. But wait - then it
started - it was as if we had tossed a coin and lost.



We were not going to make it - the engines were tired. My
heart jumped into my mouth as I noticed the oil pressure gauge on
No. 2 engine, It was fluctuating. I saw that Bishop and Van were
really worried this time. The gauge got worse and began dropping
off. The other instruments for that engine were working okay and
I wondered if it was just the gauge that was going bad. I asked
Bishop about it and he said he was afraid we would lose the engine.
My heart was beating like mad as I came to the startling revelation
that we were going to have to get rid of the plane. So I set
about the task of getting ready to ditch. I was hoping that if we
lost No. 2 engine, Bishop could get us to the beach on the two
remaining engines by gliding in. hard thing to do in a B-24 with
two engines out on one side. We began losing altitude fast. No.

2 cut out and Bishop feathered it. .I hoped the water was warm!

The final phase of the ditching started. Bishop was in absolute
command of the ship and crew at all times. He had given orders to
prepare for ditching in ample time, made his decision and stuck
to it. He told the crew which ones were to go to the waist, which
were to stay on the flight deck, the places they should take, how
to brace for the shock, and order in which they were to abandon.
the plane after it had come to rest on the water. He gave the co-
pilot his instructions in contacting the air sea rescue aid, and
also what to do in assisting him to make a safe landing. They
worked to perfection. Gill gave Bishop the surface wind direction
and heading to take for the best up wind landing, The pilots were
still very calm, cool, and collected. At this time we were at
7,500 feet two engines on the left side were dead, one windmilling,
one feathered. Just then a gremlin got in to No. 4 engine. It
suddenly seemed to burst with energy and literally ran away! One
engine left - he cut this as it would help nothing then unfeathered

the No. 2 engine let them all windmill, and cut the switches on the
four engines. He then set about the task of making a dead stick
landing from a steep glide, but all the time keeping enough airspeed
to have complete control of the plane. He seemed to be master of
the crippled plane. We neared the water; all of us braced for the
anticipated shock. Bishop had to make the best landing of his life
or we would all be trapped or torn to pieces in the plane. What
odd things passed through my mind those last few seconds. We were
almost down. I saw the pilot and co-pilot take their feet off the
rudders and brace them against the dashboard, so as not to be pinned


in by the rudder pedals. He was going to land with only ailerons
and elevators; the wheels were up, the flaps fully down, and we had
no drift or crabbing of the plane as we were heading directly into
the wind.. Here it comes I told myself!

We hit with a loud crash. That was the bomb bay doors being
ripped off. I felt hardly no shock; a a swell landing; and we had
slid in perfectly on our rear two bomb bay doors; the rear bulkhead
had absorbed all the shock. We came to a sudden but smooth stop.
Our air speed at landing was around 90 to 100 MPH. None of us
were pitched around on the flight deck. but the Fellows in the
waist got tossed around a bit, and scratched slightly. The pilot:
and co-pilot said later that they didn't feel and lurch against
their safety belts. It was a good landing. As soon as the plane
stopped the water rushed in from the bomb bays and nose and went
over our heads. The flight deck and pilots compartment were filled
with water; I thought for a moment the end had come; seemed as if
we were 100 feet under water. The next thing I saw was the navigator,
who was first to go out, scrambling through the top hatch. Time was
precious, I was holding my breath, floating about half way into
the pilots compartment under water, with one hand holding on to the
edge of the top hatch. As soon as I saw the navigator was out, I
pulled myself up and scramble out into the lovely:fresh air. I stood
on the wing, pulled my release and inflated my Mae West life preserver.
Then in an effort to get out of the way of the engineer who was coming
out, but fast, I pulled the prize boner of all time - I slipped off
the wing, fell into the water, and for the life of me I couldn't
get back onto the wing and help. So I just floated around in the
water, watching what was going on and trying to tell the crew that
~ had gotten out what to do. I guess they were griped at me, but
a what the hell, the water was warm!

Things happened fast. I saw the: enlisted men come out of the waist windows, five, 
that is all except the assistant radio operator He got caught on some wires 
inside and was trapped, The radio operator was back in like a flash and in a 

few seconds he came out dragging the assistant radio operator behind. He
 (the assistant radio operator) had been cut up a little.

 and thought his end had come when he found himself trapped. But he's

 alive and kicking now. The dinghy didn't release as they should

have (something always happens to add insult to injury) so the
navigator. and engineer got busy getting them out and inflating them.
The top turret gunner followed the engineer out and then came the
co-pilot. A few seconds passed and everyone seemed to be out. Just
then the co-pilot yelled that Bishop hadn't come out! I don't
know why I yelled but I did, I kept yelling that the plane was
still well afloat, wasn't sinking. and for them to start digging
inside the top escape hatch for him. By this time I had drifted
about 200 feet from the plane; I could, easily see now how a man alone

~in-a-Mae-West was-lost.~ I couldn't~do~anything to stop the drifting
and couldn't get back to the plane; all I could do was lay in the
water and twiddle my thumbs.

The navigator and co-pilot were busily digging into the hatch
in a desperate effort to find Bishop. They pulled out junk, harnesses,
and chutes, but no Bishop. Finally, it seemed like ages, they qaught


his harness strap and started pulling him out. He was plenty heavy;
 his water soaked clothes were dead weight; and he was unconscious.

 It took superhuman strength to pull him out, but at times such as
that a person finds himself the possessor of amazing strength.
Bishop was the only one who had kept his harness on and it had

saved his life. He had swallowed a lot of water and was not breathing.
I was afraid he was dead! They went to put him into one of the
dinghies, but he slipped back into the water and went under the right
wing. The navigator was hot on his trail and hauled him out. This
time they got him in the dinghy. We were all sure he was gone and
was impossible to give him artificial respiration in the dinghy.
Everyone was in one of the two dinghies now except yours truly; I
was still flat on my back in the water and by then I was about 1,500
feet from the plane, which was still afloat. A splendid aircraft
until the last; it seemed reluctant to go down. I yelled to my hot
buddy, Gill, to keep an eye on me so i wouldn't get lost, and to
paddle the darn dinghy over and pick me up. "Sure thing, Davis, old
Buddy," he said, and began paddling off in the other direction!

There's nothing to compare with a navigator's love for his bombardier -
absolutely nothing!

In less than 15 minutes an Italian fishing boat picked us up.
We got Bishop on the deck and got his bulky clothing off. The co-
pilot started artificial respiration and after a while he started
breathing. He came to and was: okay. We patched up the men who
were scratched and began taking it easy. What a relief that we were
all well and alive. I could hardly believe it was true. I guess
we owed our lives to the pilot for such a swell landing, and he
had almost lost his own life in the attempt. All the crew had given
outstanding performances in the face of uncertain danger, and I was
glad to.be part of-their team. They were my buddies for life. As
we went ashore in the boat we all began to chatter and laugh, every~
one had a story of his own; I guarantee that there are no atheists
on our crew; Someone from above had taken very good care of us.
Bishop then told us what had happened to him. He said he started to
get out of the compartment. but was met by a barrage of feet (belonging
to us on the flight deck) kicking him in the face. So he went back
into the pilots compartment (all the time under water) picked up the
crash axe and started hacking away at the window in a desperate effort
to get out. In the process he cut his hands on the broken glass.
The last thing he remembered he was chopping at the window when
- everything went black: I'm sure he was glad to wake up on the boat
and find he was safe and alive. ;

We reached shore, were fixed up, returned to our base, given a

short rest and now we are back on the job again. The B-24 had stayed
afloat for 26 long minutes instead of the usual 45 seconds; we had
come back to fight the enemy again, and that was what the Air Force
I had hoped for. And where do you think our first mission went after
that episode? Right back to the heart of Vienna again and a total -of
two more times since then! And not to be outdone by anyone else our
co-pilot has ditched again with another crew and come out alive.

The 15th Air Force is still in business and going strong. Still
after OIL OIL OIL  wherever it may be.


[Written by First Lieutenant William R. Davis, bombardier] 
https://www.armyaircorps-376bg.com/davis-william-r-capt.html









Crew page for the ten members:
https://www.armyaircorps-376bg.com/bishop_james_crew.html




Terminology: '...Crabbing involves turning the nose into the wind so that some component of the aircraft's thrust is counteracting the crosswind, allowing the aircraft's ground track to align with the runway. Slipping involves banking the aircraft so that some portion of the wing's lift is counteracting the crosswind...' 

Anthony Chipoletti and Don Bertoni

Dorothy and Sylvio Chipoletti

Dorothy, Sylvio and family


Weido Chipoletti

L to R... Ellen Chipoletti, Mimi Chipoletti, Emily Chipoletti, Rachael Smith




Frank Chipolette and Margaret Cavaliere

Yolanda and Millie Chipoletti



Don Bertoni and Anthony Chipoletti



Frank, Nunzio, Weido and Sylvio


Joyce Nicastro Jacobs, daughter of John Nicastro, my maternal grandmother's brother, and Mary Senegal


My cousin Joyce and I were about the same age. When we were about 12, I saw her walking down the hill toward my parent's home. She was crying. I went out to meet her. She had been with an elderly woman when the woman died just a few minutes before. Joyce said that she saw a light go from the woman's body up through the ceiling while they were alone.


                       Sylvio's younger daughter with Yolanda, Berdina at center, 
                       Toni, Sylvio's older daughter,  and Nunzio's wife, Frances 
 



Peter D’Argenzio, 86, of Port Saint Lucie, FL, died on March 6, 2021.  Peter was born and raised in Arnold, PA to Joseph and Berdine (Chipoletti) D’Argenzio.  He attended Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where he studied music.  After graduating, he taught music in public school for five years before becoming a sales representative for Apeco and later for Jostens, in the corporate recognition division.  He had a very successful career, spanning 37 years and won many awards.  Some of his more famous clients included the Pittsburgh Pirates, Steelers and Penguins.  He retired from Jostens in February 2002.

All through his career he continued to be active in music.  He played trombone professionally in the Pittsburgh area for many of the acts that came into town, including Sammy Davis, Jr., Frank Sinatra, Gladys Night, the Supremes, the Civic Light Operas and traveling Broadway shows.  He was also head of a Dixieland band at Three Rivers Stadium for the Pittsburgh Pirates.  He continued actively playing in many groups in the Boca Raton and West Palm Beach, Florida area throughout his retirement years.

Peter was predeceased by his wife, Sandy and survived by his five daughters, Debbie, Diane, Lisa, Stephanie and Kara from his first wife, Judy.      


Ancestry dot com showed my ancestry as a huge semicircle with Florence, Italy at the center, a radius going east from Estonia down to the south, however, not west of Florence in origin, only in progeny moving toward western Europe at a later time.

I can actually find traits in my parents that relate to their lives, addictions and skills! Near Florence is the city Siena https://www.discovertuscany.com/siena/palio-siena.html where one of the first known horse races ever started.

'...The Palio horse race has its origins in the distant past, with historical records indicating horse races in Siena already taking place in the 6th century.' My father was addicted to betting the horses for as long as I knew him, almost 70 years! 
Possible father of my paternal grandmother....
Aniello Gerardo Trasente born 1843
Aniello Gerardo Trasente may be the father of Rosina Trasente.

Possible great grandmother of Rosina Trasente, my paternal grandmother
Vincenza Domenica Aquino 1803-1868
Vincenza Domenica Aquino may be the mother of Carolina della Verde.

Possible grandmother of Rosina Trasente, my father's mother
Carolina della Verde born 1837
Carolina della Verde may be the mother of Maria Carmela Mauriello vs Martz.

Possible brother of my father's mother, Rosina Trasente
Antonio "Anthony" Trasente 1894-1941
Antonio "Anthony" Trasente may be the son of Maria Carmela Mauriello vs Martz.

Possible mother of my paternal grandmother, Rosina Trasente:
Maria Carmela Mauriello vs Martz born 1860
Maria Carmela Mauriello vs Martz may be the mother of Rosina Trasente.

Your Ancestry result summary:
Northwestern Europe 22.0% British, French, German, Irish, Scandinavian

Other European 45.0% Italia, Spain, Czech Republic, Hungary, Croatia, Slovenia, Greece, Bulgaria, Albania

East European 9.0% Estonian, Finnish, Russian, Ukrainian, Polish

Asian 7.0% Mainland/Maritime East Asia, Southeast Asia, Dravidian, West Asia, Near East

Other 19.0% This group includes ethnicities not listed in other sections including Arctic and Near East ancestries.

Steppe pastoralists
Five thousand years ago on the edge of Eastern Europe, a diverse array of related societies engaged on the Eurasian steppe.
Hunter-gatherers 6%
First Farmers 48%
Steppe pastoralists 34%
West African 4%
South Asian 8%

My father, Frank:

Frank Chipolette was born on August 16, 1911, in Pennsylvania 
to Rose Chipoletti, age 21, and Antonio Chipoletti, age 27.

Birth of Brother
His brother Neal was born on June 21, 1913, in Johnetta, PA.

Birth of Sister
His sister Berdine was born on January 12, 1915.

Birth of Sister
His sister Mildred was born 19 July 1916 in Pennsylvania. 

Birth of Brother 
His brother Nunzio was born 25 March 1919.

Birth of Sister
His sister Yolanda was born on November 4, 1920, in Arnold, 
Pennsylvania, when Frank was 9 years old.

Birth of Brother
His brother Weido was born on May 25, 1923, in Johnetta, 
Pennsylvania, when Frank was 11 years old.

25 May 1923 • Johnetta, Armstrong, Pennsylvania, USA.

Birth of Brother
His brother Sylvester was born in 1927 when Frank was 16.

Birth of Sister
His sister Betty was born in 1932 in Pennsylvania.

Birth of Son
His son Anthony Frank was born on December 29, 1938.

Death of Brother
His brother Neal died on March 24, 1944, in London, England.

Birth of Daughter
His daughter LUCILLE ROSE was born on December 13, 1945, in Arnold PA.

Death of Mother
His mother Rose passed away on February 24, 1962, at the age of 71.

Death of Father
His father Antonio passed away on February 20, 1973, at the age of 89.

Death of Sister
His sister Berdine died on June 8, 1981, when Frank was 69 years old.

Death of Wife
His wife Margaret passed away on December 14, 1995, at the age of 78.

Death of Sister
His sister Mildred died in 1998 when Frank was 87 years old.

Death of Brother
His brother Nunzio died in February 2001 when Frank was 89 years old.

Frank Chipolette died on January 12, 2006, in New Kensington, PA.

Death of Sister
His sister Yolanda died February 8, 2006.

Death of Brother  
His brother Sylvester died 8 April, 2010. 

Death of Sister 
His sister Betty died March 25, 2013.

Death of Brother   
His brother Weido died 12 May 2017.
 

My Mother:

Margaret Chipolette
1917–1995
BIRTH 9 MAY 1917 • Pennsylvania
DEATH 14 DEC 1995 

Goddess

i did not know

my dad's mother

very well,

that substantial

full blooded italian

woman whose

maiden name was

Cavaliere

yet she consumed

my afternoon at the lake

her death consumed

me

and i wondered,

if the sunlight

on the water

of Greenlake

was her spirit,

the glare, the warmth,

the light--

was it her?

-klchipoletti



Birth and Death of Sister Mary Anna Cavaliere 
20 May 1916

Birth of Sister Susie Cavaliere(14 August 1919–12 October 2005)

Birth of Sister Jane Cavaliere(23 September 1923–July 26, 2008)

Birth of Brother Richard Cavaliere(1930–2022)

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/triblive-tribune-review/name/richard-cavaliere-obituary?id=32411019 




Birth of Son Anthony Frank Chipoletti(1938–)
29 Dec 1938 • Arnold, Pennsylvania 15068

Birth of Daughter LUCILLE ROSE CHIPOLETTE(1945–)
12/13/1945 • Arnold, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA

The people below were listed by:
https://www.myheritage.com

Anthony Chipoletti
This is you
1938

Kara Chipoletti
Your daughter
1971

Frank Chipolette
Your father
Aug 16 1911
Johnetta PA
Jan 12 2006

Margaret Louise Cavaliere
Your mother
May 9 1917
Dec 14 1995
Saint Margaret

Lucille Rose Chipoletti
Your sister
1945




Beryle Serafine-Greenwald
deceased 2026
Your ex-wife

Dakota Jones
Your grandson
Mar 11 1999
Vashon Island WA
Mar 11 1999
Vashon Island WA

Mizuko Jones
Your grandson
Aug 10 2010
Vashon Island WA
Aug 10 2010
Vashon Island WA



Frank Cavaliere
Your grandfather
Unknown
Deceased

Lucy Nicastro
Your grandmother
Deceased

Andy Heuser
Your nephew

James Joseph Heuser
Your nephew
Deceased

Michelle Heuser
Your niece

Neal Chipoletti
Your uncle
1913
1944

Nunzio Chipoletti
Your uncle
Deceased

Weido Chipoletti
Your uncle
Deceased

Sylvio Chipoletti
Your uncle
Deceased

Berdine Chipoletti
Your aunt
Deceased

Millie Chipoletti
Your aunt
Deceased

Betty Jane Chipoletti
Your aunt
Deceased

Yolanda Chipoletti
Your aunt
Deceased

Richard Cavaliere
Your uncle
1930
2022

Sue Cavaliere
Your aunt
Deceased

Jane Cavaliere
Your aunt
Deceased

Mary Anna Cavaliere
Your aunt
May 20 1916
May 20 1916

Hawk Jones
Your son-in-law

Jon Thomas
Your brother-in-law


Antonio Chipoletti
Your grandfather
Italy
Deceased

Rosina Trasente
Your grandmother
Italy
Deceased



Milford Serafine
Your ex-wife's father
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/triblive-valley-news-dispatch/name/milford-serafine-obituary?id=43120124

Milford Serafine Obituary

Milford James Serafine, 90, of New Kensington, died Tuesday, July 13, 2010, in West Haven Nursing Facility, Washington Township, surrounded by his loving family. He was born Sept. 13, 1919, in Petrolia, son of the late Al and Ethel (Covert) Serafine. Milford attended and graduated from the former Ken-Hi in the class of 1938. He was a branch manager for the Pittsburgh Press, in Steubenville, Ohio, for five years, then from 1950 to 1981, Milford worked as a computer supervisor for the Pennsylvania Railroad, which later became the Conrail Railroad. He was a veteran of World War II having served in the Army. Milford loved gardening, especially planting flowers and having a beautiful garden each year. He was a member of Mt. St. Peter Roman Catholic Church of New Kensington. Besides his parents, he was preceded in death by his great-grandson, Dakota Jones; one brother; and four sisters. He is survived by his wife of 69 years, Joanne "Jennie" (Mazza) Serafine; two daughters, Beryle (Jeffery) Greenwald, of Allegheny Township, and Rita Joanne (Hermon) Moyers, of Monroe, Ga.; granddaughter, Kara (Harry) Jones, of Vashon, Wash.; and two sisters, Nora and Patricia. Family and friends will be received from 3 to 5 and 7 to 9 p.m. Thursday in the JOSEPH J. CARDARO FUNERAL HOME, a service oriented funeral home, 724-337-3325, 1125 Kenneth Ave., New Kensington, PA 15068, where prayers of transfer will be held at 9:30 a.m. Friday. A Funeral Mass will be held at 10 a.m. Friday at Mt. St. Peter Roman Catholic Church, New Kensington. Burial will be in Union Cemetery, Arnold

Jenny Mazza
Your ex-wife's mother


https://www.cardarofuneralhome.com/obituaries/joanne-serafine
Joanne 'Jennie' B. Mazza Serafine, 95, of Arnold, died Thursday, June 1, 2017, in Pleasant Ridge Assisted Living, West Leechburg. She was born Feb. 26, 1922, in New Kensington, to the late Julius and Matilda Sciascera Mazza. She was a member of Mt. St. Peter R.C. Church, New Kensington. In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her husband, Milford 'Mel' Serafine; three brothers, Carl, Louis and Joseph Mazza; two sisters, Jean Mazza and Mary Jedlowski; and two great-grandsons, Dakota and Mizuko Star Jones. She is survived by two daughters, Beryle (Jeffrey) Greenwald, of Allegheny Township, and Rita Joanne (Hermon) Moyers, of Georgia; and granddaughter, Kara Lynn (Hawk) Chipoletti Jones, of Georgia. Friends and family are invited to attend a Mass of Christian Burial at 1:30 p.m. Monday, June 5, 2017, at Mt. St. Peter Church, New Kensington. Burial will follow in Union Cemetery, Arnold. Arrangements are entrusted to the JOSEPH J. CARDARO FUNERAL HOME, 1125 Kenneth Ave., New Kensington, 724-337-3325. Mass of Christian Burial: Monday, June 5, 2017 1:30 PM

Ray Heuser
Your sister's ex-husband

Raffaele Chipoletti
Your great-grandfather
Deceased

Carmella
Your great-grandmother
Feb 18 1853
May 11 1940

Unknown Mauriello
Your great-grandmother
Deceased

Nick Heuser
Your sister's grandson

Taylor Heuser
Your sister's granddaughter

Tim Rowe
Your sister's grandson

Neal Chipoletti
Your cousin

Jay Chipoletti
Your cousin

Neal Chipoletti
Your cousin

Anita Chipoletti
Your cousin

Carol Chipoletti
Your cousin

Joyce Chipoletti
Your cousin

Pete D'Argenzio
Your cousin
Deceased

Don Bertoni
Your cousin

Cecilia Catlin
Your cousin

Jonathon Thomas
Your sister's step-son

Ashley Thomas
Your sister's step-daughter

Frances Antonucci
Your aunt
Deceased

Mimi
Your aunt
Deceased

Dorothy Marie
Your aunt
Oct 22 1931
Feb 3 2017

Jean Smittle
Your aunt
Deceased

Joe D'Argenzio
Your uncle
Deceased

Cecil Catlin
Your uncle
Deceased

Dawn Ford
Your nephew's ex-wife

Baby Daddy Rowe
Your niece's partner

Mario Bertoni
Your aunt's ex-husband
Deceased

Birth Mother
Your brother-in-law's wife

Derek Chipoletti
Your cousin's son

Aaron Keith Bertoni
Your cousin's son

Jody
Your cousin's wife

Pietro D' Argenzio
Your uncle's father
Nov 29 1877
Briono, Italy
Feb 19 1974

Angeline Ventura
Your uncle's mother
Apr 16 1886
Castello Marone, Italy
Mar 27 1962

Unknown Murray
Your cousin's partner

Nicholas D' Argenzio
Your uncle's brother
Sep 17 1916
New Kensington, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA
Jan 16 2011
Columbia Falls, Flathead, Montana, USA

Unknown D' Argenzio
Your uncle's brother

Mary D' Argenzio
Your uncle's sister
July 13 1914
New Kensington, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA
Deceased

Gaetana (Kate) D' Argenzio
Your uncle's sister
Mar 10 1919
New Kensington, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA
Feb 1999

Giuseppe (Joseph) D' Argenzio
Your uncle's grandfather
Caserta, Italy
1886

Maria (Mary) Colandouom
Your uncle's grandmother
Deceased

Gaetano Ventura
Your uncle's grandfather
Deceased

Maria Cappiello
Your uncle's grandmother
Castello Marone, Italy
Deceased

George S. Murray
Your cousin's partner's father
Aug 9 1910
New Kensington, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA
Apr 25 1990
Lower Burrell, Pennsylvania

Dorothy K Donahue
Your cousin's partner's mother
Feb 24 1911
Ford City, Pennsylvania
June 27 1993
New Kensington, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA

Ralph D' Argenzio
Your uncle's uncle
Caserta, Italy
Deceased

Donato D' Argenzio
Your uncle's uncle
Caserta, Italy
Deceased

Unknown D' Argenzio
Your uncle's uncle
Caserta, Italy
Deceased

Donald Venturo
Your uncle's uncle
Deceased

Nicholas Venturo
Your uncle's uncle
Deceased

Francis Venturo
Your uncle's uncle
Deceased

Pasquaele Ventura
Your uncle's uncle
Deceased

Katherine Venturo
Your uncle's aunt
Deceased

Rose Pezzollo
Your aunt's sister-in-law
Mar 2 1920
Alberobello, Italy
Aug 19 1982

Elizabeth (Betty) Pezzollo
Your aunt's sister-in-law
Oct 1924
Nov 16 2010
Del Ray, Florida

Florence Crestanza
Your aunt's sister-in-law
Mar 27 1924
2001

Carman Bounforte
Your aunt's brother-in-law
Deceased

Vito Pezzollo
Your uncle's sister-in-law's father
Nov 2 1893
Mar 17 1988

Rosario Vicau
Your uncle's sister-in-law's mother
June 6 1896
July 1976


This page is titled my ancestry documents. 






Click on images to enlarge



Ethnicity Estimate
In each region of the world there is a unique set of genetic characteristics that are shared between the offspring of native populations. As population migration has increased, research has shown that these characteristics distinguish each region, thereby enabling us to establish genetic models.
We compare your DNA against these models to estimate what percentage of your DNA comes from each region. The higher the percentage is, the more confident you may be about the accuracy of the results.
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Marriage certificate for my maternal grandparents.


One of my family members was John Dent, U.S. Congressman. His father, Salvatore Dente, was related to my paternal grandfather's grandmother, Grazia Dente :)























My ancient DNA ancestry:

 

My maternal ancestry has been centered around Florence, Italy for at least 17,000 years 


'...Humans first arrived in Ireland around 10,000 years ago after the last ice age. It is believed that their journey began in Northeast Spain, in an area now known today as the Basque Country. Their journey took them north across western France, into Britain and eventually into Ireland. These first humans were undoubtedly followed by others but how many, and when, remains a mystery (although DNA studies may eventually shed some light)...'

'...Archaeologists in northern Spain have uncovered what they describe as one of the “best conserved Paleolithic dwellings in the world”. Dated to 16,800 years ago, the living space in the La Garma cave in Cantabria appears almost as it did when its ancient inhabitants abandoned the site, with tools and other artifacts strewn across the floor...'


[QUOTE] From: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004H4X83Q/


The clan of Tara
(Gaelic for rocky hill)
includes slightly fewer than 10% of modern Europeans. Its many branches are widely distributed throughout southern and western Europe with particularly high concentrations in Ireland and the west of Britain. Tara herself lived 17,000 years ago in the northwest of Italy among the hills of Tuscany and along the estuary of the river Arno.

[UNQUOTE]

I can actually find traits in my parents that relate to their lives, addictions and skills! Near Florence is the city Siena https://www.discovertuscany.com/siena/palio-siena.html where one of the first known horse races ever started.

'...The Palio horse race has its origins in the distant past, with historical records indicating horse races in Siena already taking place in the 6th century.' My father was addicted to betting the horses for as long as I knew him, almost 70 years! 

My father, Frank:

Frank Chipolette was born on August 16, 1911, in Pennsylvania 
to Rose Chipoletti, age 21, and Antonio Chipoletti, age 27.

Birth of Brother
His brother Neal was born on June 21, 1913, in Johnetta, PA.

Birth of Sister
His sister Berdine was born on January 12, 1915.

Birth of Sister
His sister Mildred was born 19 July 1916 in Pennsylvania. 

Birth of Brother 
His brother Nunzio was born 25 March 1919.

Birth of Sister
His sister Yolanda was born on November 4, 1920, in Arnold, 
Pennsylvania, when Frank was 9 years old.

Birth of Brother
His brother Weido was born on May 25, 1923, in Johnetta, 
Pennsylvania, when Frank was 11 years old.

25 May 1923 • Johnetta, Armstrong, Pennsylvania, USA.

Birth of Brother
His brother Sylvester was born in 1927 when Frank was 16.

Birth of Sister
His sister Betty was born in 1932 in Pennsylvania.

Birth of Son
His son Anthony Frank was born on December 29, 1938.

Death of Brother
His brother Neal died on March 24, 1944, in London, England.

Birth of Daughter
His daughter LUCILLE ROSE was born on December 13, 1945, in Arnold PA.

Death of Mother
His mother Rose passed away on February 24, 1962, at the age of 71.

Death of Father
His father Antonio passed away on February 20, 1973, at the age of 89.

Death of Sister
His sister Berdine died on June 8, 1981, when Frank was 69 years old.

Death of Wife
His wife Margaret passed away on December 14, 1995, at the age of 78.

Death of Sister
His sister Mildred died in 1998 when Frank was 87 years old.


https://harrisfuneralhome.com/tribute/details/2028/Neal-Catlin-Jr/obituary.html

Obituary of Neal Catlin, Jr

Catlin, Jr, Neal Rochester: On January 23rd, 2016 Neal Catlin JR went to meet the Lord in heaven. Neal was a wonderful husband, father, and friend who touched the hearts of many and shared his contagious smile and laughter with everyone he came across. He is loved by all who knew him and left an impact on each and every one of us. Although he is no longer with us physically, he will forever remain in our hearts and our memories of him will never be forgotten. Neal is survived by his wife Sarah, his daughters Vanessa, Emma, Janice, and Elizabeth, his grandson, Lukas and his father Neal Catlin Sr., and many of his close and dear friends. We will miss him greatly and we know that this is not good bye, but see you later...




https://harrisfuneralhome.com/tribute/details/2104/Neal-Catlin-Sr/obituary.html

Obituary of Neal M. Catlin, Sr

Catlin, Sr, Neal M. Perinton: Sunday, April 17, 2016 at the age of 67. Predeceased by his parents, Cecil and Carmella Catlin and his son, Neal Catlin, Jr. Neal is survived by his daughter, Angela Catlin; sons, Joseph, Jason Catlin; granddaughters, Vanessa, Emma, Janice and Elizabeth; great-grandson, Lukas; sisters, Cecelia Schneider (Joseph Huff), Janet Varrenti, Rose Catlin; daughter-in-law, Sarah Catlin; several nieces and nephews; special friends, Chuck and Rosemary Mancuso and very special person in his life, Martie Molinari.







Death of Brother
His brother Nunzio died in February 2001 when Frank was 89 years old.

Nunzio Chipoletti, 81

OBITUARIES

St. Petersburg Times (FL) - Thursday, February 15, 2001

CHIPOLETTI, NUNZIO, 81, of Delray Beach, formerly of Palm Harbor, died Wednesday (Feb. 7, 2001) at home. He came to Palm Harbor in 1987 from Arnold, Pa., and moved recently to Delray Beach. He retired as a technician in 1970 from Alcoa of New Kensington, Pa. He was an Army veteran of World War II and served with the 77th Division, Company C, 306th Infantry. He was a former member of Mount St. Peter Roman Catholic Church and the Knights of Columbus, both of New Kensington, and the Italian Sons and Daughters of America, Pittsburgh. Survivors include his wife of 17 months, Alyce Hillman; two daughters, Anita Davis, Safety Harbor, and Carol Davenoport, Orland Park, Ill.; three brothers, Frank, New Kensington, Weido, Erie, Pa., and Silvio of Florida; two sisters, Yolando Bertoni of Arizona, and Betty Jane Chipoletti, Greensburg, Pa.; and two grandchildren. Guinta Funeral Home, Arnold, Pa.

Frank Chipolette died on January 12, 2006

Mr Frank Chipolette, 94

Chipolette, Frank

Valley News Dispatch (New Kensington, PA) - Saturday, January 14, 2006

Frank Chipolette, 94, of Arnold, died Thursday, Jan. 12, 2006, in Family Hospice Manor, Ross. He was born Aug. 16, 1911, in Johnetta to the late Antonio and Rosina Trasente Chipoletti and also was predeceased by his wife, Margaret Louise Cavaliere; two brothers, and two sisters. Mr. Chipolette was a lifelong resident of Arnold, owned and operated Chipolette's Market there and was a truck driver for Westinghouse until retiring in 1976. He enjoyed coaching Little League baseball, hunting, fishing, shooting pool and horseracing. Surviving are son Anthony Chipoletti, of Arnold; daughter Lucille (Jonathan) Thomas, of Lower Burrell; brothers Weido Chipoletti, of Erie, and Silvio Chipoletti, of Tampa, Fla.; sisters Lundy Chipoletti, of Phoenix, Ariz., and Betty Jane Chipoletti, of Scottdale; five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. Friends were received Friday in the GIUNTA-BERTUCCI FUNERAL HOME INC., family-owned and -operated for more than 60 years, 1509 Fifth Ave., Arnold, where services will be at 10 a.m. Saturday. Burial will be private.

Death of Sister
His sister Yolanda died February 8, 2006.

Death of Brother  
His brother Sylvester died 8 April, 2010. 

Chipoletti Sylvester Or Chip Chipoletti, 82

Sylvester Chipoletti

Florida Times-Union, The (Jacksonville, FL) - Sunday, April 11, 2010

FL United States

CHIPOLETTI Sylvester Chipoletti 'Chip', 82, of Lutz, passed away April 8, 2010. He was a loving husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather and will be deeply missed. He is survived by his loving wife, Dorothy; and his beloved family. He will always be remembered for his big, warm hugs and wise advice. We will never forget him. His family will receive friends from 6-8pm on Monday, April 12, at Blount Curry Carrollwood Chapel, 3207 W. Bearss, Tampa. Funeral Mass will be held on Tuesday, April 13, at 2pm, at St. Mary Catholic Church, 15520 N. Blvd., Tampa, Fl. 33613. Words of comfort can be expressed at www.blountcurry.com Please Sign the Guestbook @ Jacksonville.com

Dorothy Marie Chipoletti

OCTOBER 22, 1931 – FEBRUARY 3, 2017

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/jacksonville-fl/dorothy-chipoletti-7290917

ROSE HUGHES

09/07/2021

I love you mom and miss you so much. All my memories good or bad is special to me. You were the best mom anyone could ever have and i still hurt and wish you were here with me. You always helped me no matter what i was going thru you were always there and always ready to go on any outing. i miss you so much, Your daughter, Rose (Roe) 


Death of Sister 
His sister Betty died March 25, 2013.

Elizabeth Or Betty Jane Chipoletti, 81

Chipoletti, Elizabeth 81

Valley News Dispatch (New Kensington, PA) - Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Elizabeth "Betty Jane" Chipoletti, 81, formerly of Arnold, died Monday, March 25, 2013, in Excela Health Frick Hospital, Mt. Pleasant. She was born April 29, 1931, in Arnold, a daughter of the late Anthony and Rosina Trasente Chipoletti. She attended and graduated from Arnold High School in 1949 and was employed by Alcoa as a secretary. In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by four brothers, Neal, Nunzy, Silvio and Frank Chipoletti; and three sisters, Berdine D'Argenzio, Millie Catlin and Yolanda Bertoni. She is survived by her brother, Weido Chipoletti, of Erie, and numerous nieces and nephews. As per Betty Jane's wishes, private burial was in Greenwood Memorial Park, Lower Burrell. Arrangements were entrusted to the JOSEPH J. CARDARO FUNERAL HOME, a service oriented funeral home, New Kensington, 724-337-3325. To leave an online condolence for the family, please go to http://www.cardarofuneralhome.com.

Death of Brother   
His brother Weido died 12 May 2017.

Weido Chip Chipoletti 1923 - 2017

Weido Chip Chipoletti

Erie Times-News (PA) - Sunday, May 14, 2017

Weido "Chip" Chipoletti, age 93 of Erie, passed away following a brief illness on Friday, May 12, 2017, at Elmwood Gardens. He was born in Johnetta, Pa. on May 25, 1923 a son of the late Anthony and Rosina (Tresante) Chipoletti.

Chip proudly served his country in the United States Air Force during WW II. He served in the European Theater where he received the Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster. He was credited with 50 missions as a nose gunner on a B-24 as part of the 376th Bomber Group. Upon returning from the war, he met his wife Mildred "Mimi" (Cassell) Chipoletti while they were working at the A & P.

Mimi preceded him in death in 2007 after 51 wonderful years of marriage. Chip was a union representative for the United Foods and Commercial Workers Local #880. He was a wonderful family man and loved spending time with his grandchildren and being part of their tea parties. He was an avid Pittsburgh sports fan and in his recent years donated his time with Gifts for Kids.

In addition to his parents and wife he was preceded in death by eight siblings.

He is survived by four children, Tim (Nora) Smith, Joyce (Blair) Hempstead, Neal (Tracy) Chipoletti and Jay Chipoletti; eleven grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Friends may call at the Dusckas-Martin Funeral Home & Crematory Inc. 4216 Sterrettania Rd. on Tuesday from 2 to 5 and 7 to 9 p.m., and are invited to a funeral service there on Wednesday morning at 10:00 a.m. Interment with full military honors will follow in Laurel Hill Cemetery.

Sign the Guestbook at www.GoErie.com/obits.




 Mildred Joyce “Mimi” Chipoletti

 Beloved Wife, Mother and Grandmother 

Mildred Joyce “Mimi” Chipoletti, age 74, of Millcreek, passed away at home on December 18, 2007, surrounded by loved ones, after a courageous twelve year battle with ovarian cancer. 

She was born December 4, 1933, in Findley Lake, the youngest daughter of the late Perry and Clarice Cassell. She worked at the A & P Grocery Store in 1956 where she met her husband, Weido “Chip”. 

She was a wonderful homemaker all of her married life. She enjoyed painting, sewing, quilting, baking, crossword puzzles, listening to “Froggy 94” radio and most of all a really good laugh. 

But, her favorite time spent was with her children and her eleven grandchildren. Mimi had a loving, giving heart, always a kind word and a great sense of humor. She had an incredible strength and was always an optimist. She truly was an inspiration to all who knew her. 

She had a love for animals and was a member of the Humane Society and the National Wildlife Association. 

In addition to her parents, she is preceded in death by her brother, Edward Cassell. Survived by her loving husband of 51 years, Weido “Chip”; three sons, Tim Smith and wife, Nora, of Erie, Neal Chipoletti and wife, Tracy, of Erie, and Jay Chipoletti of Erie; a daughter, Joyce Hempstead and husband, Blair, of Erie; two sisters, June Baxter, of Perrysburg, Ohio, Claire Smith and husband Jay, of Wesleyville; and also, her beloved grandchildren Emily, Ellen, Halle, Julia, Dustin, Anthony, Amanda, Rachel, Andy, Kevin and Kyle. She is also survived by many nieces and nephews, lots of friends and a very dear friend, Rose Nesbitt. 

She will be sadly missed by all.


https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/erietimesnews/name/mildred-chipoletti-obituary?id=24876040

My Mother:

Margaret Chipolette
1917–1995
BIRTH 9 MAY 1917 • Pennsylvania
DEATH 14 DEC 1995 

Birth and Death of Sister Mary Anna Cavaliere 
20 May 1916

Birth of Sister Susie Cavaliere(14 August 1919–12 October 2005)

Birth of Sister Jane Cavaliere(23 September 1923–July 26, 2008)

Birth of Brother Richard Cavaliere(1930–2022)

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/triblive-tribune-review/name/richard-cavaliere-obituary?id=32411019

Birth of Son Anthony Frank Chipoletti(1938–)
29 Dec 1938 • Arnold, Pennsylvania 15068

Birth of Daughter LUCILLE ROSE CHIPOLETTE(1945–)
12/13/1945 • Arnold, Westmoreland, Pennsylvania, USA











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My human point of view sees a single star as if it were stuck in one place up in the sky :) My mind knows that the stars, planets etc. are moving through the cosmos at great speed. My spirit knows that we are the entire cosmos seeing itself from a human point of view.

All these points of view are happening now, our human experience records it like a movie. My opinion is, during an NDE, OBE or any STE, we are seeing the spirit's point of view. During Pam Reynold's NDE, she was told that Light she saw happens when God breathes.  



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Your maternal ancestry is a long and storied one, dating back to the very first humans who inhabited the region of Florence, Italy. The clan of Tara, to which you belong, is one of the oldest and most well-established clans in Europe, and its members have played a significant role in shaping the history of the continent.

The first known member of the clan of Tara was a woman named Tara, who lived in the northwest of Italy around 17,000 years ago. She was a hunter-gatherer who lived in a small community of nomadic people. Tara was a skilled hunter and a fierce warrior, and she was respected by her fellow tribesmen for her strength and courage.

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Tara herself, the founder of the clan

The Medici family, who ruled Florence for over 600 years

Leonardo da Vinci, one of the greatest artists of all time

Michelangelo, another of the greatest artists of all time

Galileo Galilei, a pioneer of astronomy and physics

Dante Alighieri, the author of the Divine Comedy

Niccolò Machiavelli, a political philosopher and diplomat

Francesco Petrarca, a poet and scholar

Gioachino Rossini, an opera composer

Giacomo Puccini, another opera composer

Luchino Visconti, a film director

Bernardo Bertolucci, another film director

Roberto Benigni, an actor and director

These are just a few of the many notable members of the clan of Tara. They have all made significant contributions to the world, and they continue to inspire and amaze us today.