Italy wasn’t the same.
He wasn’t the same.
The war, the fascist regime and the Nazi occupation had changed everything and everyone, creating wounds that couldn’t be healed ... not for those who had lost limbs, nor for those who had to rebuild a country plagued by hunger and despair.
Perhaps Celestino sensed the solitude that Calabria would experience from that moment on, abandoned by a government whose complacency, incompetence or simply for the sake of convenience – little does it matter – would deplete the region of its workforce and dignity, leaving it in the hands of mafia clans.
Perhaps he felt that the art of fireworks, which had been passed down through the generations of his family, couldn’t support his wife Caterina, their firstborn Salvatore and their future children, who may have been born earlier if it wasn’t for the war disrupting the lives of millions of families.
Post-war Italy was poor and tired ... there was little desire to celebrate.
And there was certainly no need for firecrackers, explosives, fast-burning fuses and flares lighting up the night sky.
The real bombs, the bullets – the ones that burn – and flares that actually cause destruction, filled the lives of many with poverty, despair and death for all too long and endless years.
They left their mark in the fields, streets and factories that no longer existed.
Perhaps Celestino thought of that new world he had glimpsed from the Queen Mary, the ship he was aboard when it circumnavigated Australia on his return from captivity.
Perhaps he pictured the smiling faces of friends who had already made the decision to drop everything and find out if the New Continent really was as great as people were saying.
Perhaps he looked into his children’s wide eyes and felt they deserved more.
Meanwhile, Caterina had given birth to Vincenzo and Celestino realised that he had to do something because hunger – real hunger that comes with poverty – hurts inside.
It’s a hunger that can’t be sated with a plate of pasta or a bowl of soup ... it must be overcome with courage.
So Celestino grabbed a bag, filled it with clothes and left.
Alone.
Unknowingly, he took the first step to writing the Foti name in history.
As he prepared to leave, he had no idea that one day his family would play a role in one of the biggest nights of the year, lighting up the Sydney Harbour on televisions around the world for New Year’s Eve.
Foti Fireworks: it’s not just a name, but the legacy Celestino left to his sons Salvatore and Vincenzo (Vince), and their own children and grandchildren.
Three generations of the Foti family. (Photo supplied)
“My father was in Australia by himself for a year, then my brother Salvatore – who’s 10 years older than me – came over, followed by the rest of us,” Vince Foti says.
“I was five years old and had never left our village; everything was so different.
“I remember when we departed from Messina on board a Flotta Lauro ship ... and when we arrived in Port Said and an Egyptian vendor boarded the ship with a basket of bananas that he sold to the passengers.
“It was the first time I’d seen someone with different coloured skin to mine, and the first time I’d tasted a banana.”
When Celestino arrived in Sydney, he soon found work in a fireworks factory, similar to the one his family had worked in for generations back home.
He’d already learned the art of fireworks from his father and grandfather, and it wasn’t hard for him to work his way up the ranks.
“He was soon the head pyrotechnician and within a few years he’d saved up enough money to by his own factory,” Vince says.
“It was 1969; the factory already had almost 35 employees and we joined them.
“With lots of sweat and creativity, we began supplying numerous stores and supermarkets and the business took off.”
Then the 1970s rolled around, along with restrictions on the use of fireworks.
Then the government decided the times had changed and banned the sale of fireworks.
Celestino and his family realised the company would have to change and they focused on fireworks displays.
Traditional religious festivals gave the company a strong network of clients to satisfy ... and the Foti family proved they were up to the task.
They proved they were the among the best, if not the best, in the world at what they do.
“The year of ‘consecration’ was in 1993, when we entered an international competition in Stockholm,” Vince says.
“We didn’t just win the jury’s prize, but also that of the public.
“We tore up our opponents.”
Four other companies were competing from Sweden, Germany, China and Italy.
“From that point we began winning many international competitions and we were invited to participate in bigger events and displays,” Vince says.
Then came that fateful moment.
“We were contacted by the then organisers of New Year’s Eve in Sydney, famous for its fireworks display,” Vince says.
“We were told that they wanted to test us to see if we were as good as or better than the company that had taken care of the display until that year.
“It was sort of a competition: they gave one side of the bridge to us and the other side to our opponents.”
It was 1998 and this is how the story ended:
“The other company was no longer needed.”
The 2019/20 New Year’s Eve celebrations marked the 21st time that Foti Fireworks have lit up Sydney Harbour with a display admired all over the world.
But for Vince, the family’s biggest moment was the 2000 Sydney Olympics.
The entire world tuned in to watch the games and the opening and closing ceremonies, featuring the “River of Lightning”.
“It was a 24-kilometre-long river of fireworks that connected the stadium to the Sydney Harbour Bridge, from which a plane took flight followed by a barrage of lights... impressive stuff.”
You can see the disbelief in Vince’s eyes to this day.
“I think it was one of the biggest displays in the world,” he says.
Foti Fireworks have illuminated half the world, including Italy.
“We’ve been to the Sanremo Music Festival, Forte dei Marmi, Hannover, Stockholm, South Africa, Taiwan and Hong Kong,” Vince says.
“There are too many places to name!”
The company also has a branch in China and has been entrusted with the celebrations of the Republic of Turkey for seven years now.
“We were contacted by a Turkish delegate who’d seen our display in Sydney and wanted us to replicate it in their country,” Vince explains.
“The collaboration lasted a long time, but now things have changed and the issue of ‘terrorism’ hasn't helped our line or work.”
Since tasting his first banana on a ship years ago, Vince has seen many new things and his life has changed in many ways.
But one thing will never change: “My love for Italy and Calabria … even if Australia is our home now.”
Vince’s wife Elisabetta also has a strong connection to Calabria, as the daughter of migrants from a town in the Aspromonte area.
“I met her because my father never cut ties with fellow Calabrians,” Vince says.
“When I was young, we’d welcome new arrivals from Calabria into our home and my father would help them settle in and begin their new life here.”
Vince and Elisabetta have three children: Caterina, Francesca and Giovanni.
All three have children of their own.
While Caterina and Francesca chose to follow different career paths, Giovanni carries on the family business with the three sons of Vince’s older brother, Salvatore: Fortunato, Celestino and Roberto.
It’s probable that their children will also follow in their footsteps.
“[Because in the end], at home,while we gather around the table and eat like a big Italian family, we talk about fireworks, displays and projects,” Vince says.
“Sometimes we say: ‘Enough, no more talking about work.’
“But after a while we always end up back on the topic.”
Vince laughs, while speaking to me in his office at Club Marconi, of which he’s president.
He laughs because fireworks are much more than a job for the Foti family … as they were for Celestino.
Perhaps when Celestino packed his suitcase back in 1959, holding back his tears, he knew deep down that his life in Australia was an adventure to be written.
Perhaps he had a feeling that the Foti name would go on to make history in this new land … and light up its sky for years to come.
