Carolina Vinciullo

There is nothing more beautiful than family.

Carolina’s story begins in February 1927 in Ucria, Messina, in Sicily – although, as was common then, her birth was officially recorded three days after her birth. She was the only child of Carmelo and Giuseppa (known as ‘Nonna Peppa’) Rigoli. Carolina’s idyllic Sicilian childhood was shattered when, at only ten years old, she cradled her beloved father as he died in her arms. From then on, Carolina and her mother were inseparable. Nonna Peppa lived with her until 1984, helping to raise her children and passing on the courage and love that shaped Carolina’s life.

Carolina with her mother Giuseppa (Nonna Peppa), around the 1970s. Nonna Peppa helped to raise the children and keep the home.  
Credit: Vinciullo family

At 17, amid the hardships of wartime Sicily, Carolina married her great love Signorino Vinciullo on 18 November 1944. It was a humble yet beautiful wedding — she walked down the aisle in a dress made from parachute silk salvaged from a nearby field. Their first daughter Rita was born eleven months later, followed by Josie in September 1947. Soon after this, Signorino fell from scaffolding and broke his leg. At 20, Carolina was managing a toddler, a newborn and a recovering husband, with steady support from her mother Nonna Peppa. \

Studio portrait of Carolina with daughters Rita and Josie in Italy, taken before their migration to Australia.
Credit: Vinciullo family 

Signorino, restless and ambitious for his daughters, wanted more than postwar Sicily could offer. In October 1949, he left alone for Australia and found work in the south-west, felling trees and digging potatoes. He lived frugally, sending money home until, after two-and-a-half years of backbreaking work, he had saved enough to bring his family across.

On 1 March 1952, 25-year-old Carolina boarded the Neptunia at Messina with her daughters and her mother, Nonna Peppa. None of them had ever been on a ship. Their route took them across the Mediterranean, through the Suez Canal, into the Red Sea and across the vast Indian Ocean. Carolina found the voyage frightening, and every wave felt like a mountain but the thought of reunion carried her through. On 22 March 1952, they stepped onto Fremantle wharf and into a new life.

Their first home in Osborne Park was a simple asbestos lean-to opposite a swamp at the end of a dusty track. There were no internal walls, no bathroom, no flyscreens and no stove. But Carolina saw paradise – she had her husband, her daughters, her mother and a piece of land to grow food. She cooked on three bricks over an open fire, washed in a tin tub with water hand-pumped from the ground, and kept chickens and tended vegetables while Signorino worked planting pines near Mount Lawley. With her modest child allowance, Carolina acquired, on hire purchase, her pride and joy – a Metters No. 1 wood stove. ‘Finally,’ she would say with delight, ‘I could cook inside!’

The years that followed were marked by both hard work and happiness. In March 1954, Carolina’s first son Julian was born after a difficult pregnancy. The next year, the family moved to Cape Street, Osborne Park, into what Carolina described as ‘a palace’ – in reality a modest, fully furnished house on two acres. They restarted their poultry farm, planted vegetables and sold eggs and produce to neighbours. Even on Sundays, customers knocked at their door. Carolina would quietly rise from the lunch table, smiling, to serve them.

In October 1956, heavily pregnant with her youngest son, Carl, Carolina spent long days crouched in a pea field, determined to finish the harvest before giving birth. Once home from the hospital, she returned to the daily routines of carting feed, raking sheds and collecting eggs. She and Signorino would take midnight trips to Spearwood to buy black-market potatoes for fish-and-chip shops, dodging the inspectors from the ever-watchful Potato Marketing Board. Those adventures became family legend.

Carolina and her four children – daughters Rita and Josie and sons Jules and Carl – on an outing.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina with her sons Julian and Carl, sharing a family moment. 
Credit: Vinciullo family

By 1961, the family’s hard work had paid off. They bought a property on Scarborough Beach Road, Mount Hawthorn, with a home, two rental shops and their own liquor, general and fruit store. Carolina worked from dawn until late at night. Just five feet tall, she could lift crates of beer – 60 bottles to a case – onto utes when Signorino was away.

On summer evenings, she and her daughters chopped fruit for their famous homemade fruit-salad iceblocks, which drew customers from across the suburbs. The work left its mark on her back in later years, but she loved her customers, the banter and, above all, what the store made possible – security, private schooling for her sons and opportunities she and Signorino had never known.

In 1961, Carolina and Signorino bought property on Scarborough Beach Road, Mount Hawthorn. The property contained a house for the family, two shops that were rented out to provide income, and their own store selling liquor, general goods and fresh produce. 
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina in the family store on Scarborough Beach Road, Mount Hawthorn.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina had a head for business and an adventurous streak. She was often the instigator of new ventures. In later years, she enjoyed travelling with Signorino to Italy but sometimes chose to stay behind. She had a mischievous strategy: on some occasions she would deliberately ‘not feel like travelling’ and while Signorino was overseas, Carolina and daughter Rita would buy properties. Many properties were acquired during those times – what fun she and Rita had together! Her motto was clear: ‘In business, you must be smart and know when to turn the wheel.’

Carolina on an outing in the city with daughters Rita and Josie.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Her family blossomed as her children married and raised families of their own. Grandchildren and, later, great grandchildren filled Carolina’s world with joy. She called them all her ‘tesoris’ – her treasures. She nurtured them as she had nurtured their parents, with unconditional love, homemade minestrone, jars of pickled olives, bundles of dried oregano and her legendary roasted macadamias. (Even the cockatoos adored her macadamias. She fought comic battles with them, running outside in her cut-down wellies with a hose in hand, until she and the birds seemed to agree to share the crop.)

Carolina and Signorino with their family, about 1980.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina was also a proud custodian of Sicilian culture. Signorino was a founding member of the Sicilian Club of Perth and she worked tirelessly behind the scenes at dinner dances and balls, raising funds and ensuring the traditions of her homeland were celebrated in their new country.

Carolina and Signorino at the Sicilian Club, enjoying their vibrant social life.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina and Signorino.
Credit: Vinciullo family

There were heartaches, too. The death of her mother, Nonna Peppa, in 1984 left a deep absence, and in 2003 Carolina lost Signorino after 59 years of marriage. Though nursing a broken heart, she carried on with grace and humour, embracing each change in the family with open arms. Her peacemaking nature helped keep a large extended clan united.

Carolina cooking.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina and Signorino at home.
Credit: Vinciullo family

Even in her nineties, Carolina remained full of energy. She lived independently in her Hamersley home of almost 40 years, tending olive and fig trees, until a fall at 94 led her to Rosewood Aged Care. There she embraced a new chapter – bingo, chair yoga, happy hours, singalongs and, what she laughingly called the art of dolce far niente, ‘the sweetness of doing nothing’. She affectionately referred to the carers as her ‘angels’. When asked how she was, her eyes sparkled: ‘Life is beautiful, and I want to enjoy it!’

After Signorino’s passing, Carolina continued to care for his cherished artichoke garden. 
Credit: Vinciullo family

Carolina was a pioneer at a time when few women were recognised for their business acumen. She was also a devoted wife and mother, and the heart of her community. For her, family was everything and every day was a gift. Her story reminds us that with courage, faith and hard work, la vita è bella – life is indeed beautiful.

In her retirement years, Carolina enjoyed craftwork.
Credit: Vinciullo family