Inspired by memories of a wonderful Italian grandfather -- who lived in our home when I was a young child and gave my life a wonderful start with his unconditional love and kindness...I took my first genealogy class. More than 25 years ago, I was a complete beginner, looking for the place my beloved Italian grandfather had been born.

My father remembered it was a place, a lot like Diablo, and his father had talked about the beautiful, green plains of Lombardy and the Po river. Grandfather said he missed Italy very much, but his new country had been very good to him. He never returned to Italy.

The library gazetteer had nothing on any town named Diablo in Northern Italy. Discouraged, I told my mother-in-law about the blank wall, which seemed more like a brick wall now. Italy seemed so far away, an ocean and years away.

My husband's aunt called me over to her one night when the family was all gathered. This lovely woman of German-Danish descent said, "Sharon, how serious are you about finding your people?"

I told her it meant a lot to be able to locate them. She said she would include the Corgatelli surname in her next letter to Italy! My husband's relatives had moved to Italy during World War II from Austria, and she was searching the family tradition of medical doctors in the family line.

Two months later, Aunt Lillian said, "Sharon, I have a copy here of some kind of listing rolls for the town of Milano; your surname is on it, and the lady listed Delebio, Italy as her birthplace."

Delebio sounded enough like Diablo to me, so off went a letter containing every possible mistake an amateur genealogist could make:

1. The letter did not include a self-addressed return envelope;
2. It was written in English instead of the native language;
3. I unwittingly asked for ALL the information they had on any Corgatelli and any other relative they knew about, instead of requesting specific information; and
4. I neglected to mention my Great Uncle Joe's immigration to America.