Williamsburg waited in anticipation Sunday afternoon as hundreds of men gathered beneath a 70-foot Giglio tower, preparing to carry 139 years of faith, family and neighborhood tradition on their shoulders.

The occasion was the annual 12-day Our Lady of Mount Carmel Feast, which has been celebrated in Williamsburg since 1887. The festival is best known for the “Dancing of the Giglio,” during which neighborhood men hoist a handmade, 4-ton tower onto their shoulders and carry it through the streets before thousands of spectators.

The tradition was transplanted to Williamsburg by immigrants from Nola, Italy, where it began in the fifth century to honor St. Paulinus, the bishop of Nola.

For many participants, however, the annual celebration is far more personal than an ordinary neighborhood festival. It is a tradition passed from one generation to the next and a way for families to preserve their connection to a neighborhood that has changed dramatically around them.

John Perrone, a longtime feast participant who was named an apprentice capo this year, is among those helping carry that tradition forward. A capo, short for “capo paranza,” directs the lifters during the Dancing of the Giglio, using a ceremonial cane to issue commands.

“People make a point to come back every year and bring their whole family,” said Perrone. “There are people who are third- and fourth-generation lifters who come every year to lift, and they’re fathers and sons lifting together.”

“Williamsburg has a big extended family,” Perrone added. “Most of us don’t live there anymore, myself included. Most of us live in Queens, Long Island, New Jersey, the Bronx or Florida.”

The Giglio tower rises above the streets of Williamsburg during the annual Our Lady of Mount Carmel Feast on Sunday.Photo by Jack Bulik

Despite the distance, former residents continue to come back to Williamsburg for the feast.

“It’s impressive the lengths people will go to maintain this tradition,” Perrone said.

Perrone has attended the feast for as long as he can remember and said being present for its climactic Giglio Sunday celebration became something of a family requirement.

His mother used to tell him, “If you get invited to a wedding on Giglio Sunday, send them an envelope because you can’t go.”

Even when Perrone’s mother became ill during last year’s feast, she encouraged him to attend. She died shortly after the celebration.

“That mentality was instilled in me by my mother, so it’s special,” Perrone said.

This year, Perrone entered the 139th annual feast with a new position: apprentice capo.

The Dancing of the Giglio operates through a highly coordinated chain of command. Lifters take orders from lieutenants assigned to individual crews, while lieutenants work with apprentice capos to oversee the movement of the tower. Apprentice capos report to the capos above them.

At the top of the hierarchy stands the No. 1 capo, who directs the operation from the street. According to Perrone, some lifters spend their entire lives hoping to be appointed to the position.

Confetti falls over lifters as they carry the Giglio tower through Williamsburg during one of the feast’s signature traditions.Photo by Jack Bulik

This year, that honor belonged to Joe Cicileo.

Like Perrone, Cicileo spent decades rising through the feast’s ranks. He began as a child in the rope gang before becoming a children’s lifter and eventually taking on leadership roles.

“On Giglio Sunday, during the lifts, I’m basically in charge of the street,” Cicileo said.

As No. 1 capo, Cicileo coordinates with apprentice capos, lieutenants and lifters to guide the Giglio down Havemeyer Street.

“My job being No. 1 capo — you are only as good as the men below you,” he said.

Many of the men beneath the tower have participated in the tradition for years, and some have been lifting for decades.

Cicileo’s family settled in Williamsburg after immigrating to the United States from Italy. His uncles and great-uncles lifted the Giglio before him, he said.

“It just kind of trickled down to my generation, so it’s a family affair,” Cicileo said.

That tradition has continued through Cicileo’s extended family. His nephews are lifters, while one of his sons-in-law serves as a lieutenant and another as an apprentice capo.

Although the feast remains rooted in Williamsburg’s Italian American history, participants said it is no longer celebrated exclusively by Italian Americans. Today, the men who gather beneath the Giglio reflect a range of racial, ethnic and cultural backgrounds from Williamsburg and beyond.

“What once was just an Italian tradition has, for a lot of people, become kind of a neighborhood tradition,” Perrone told Brooklyn Paper.

“You know, we have plenty of ‘Smiths’ and ‘Flynns’ who march, too,” Perrone explained.

Multiple generations of lifters gather beneath the Giglio tower, continuing a family tradition during the annual Our Lady of Mount Carmel Feast.Photo by Jack Bulik Musicians perform atop the Giglio tower.Photo by Jack Bulik

Whatever their backgrounds, once the lifters gathered beneath the Giglio, they became part of the same tightly coordinated unit. Moving the 4-ton tower required hundreds of men to respond together to a single voice: Joe Cicileo.

As the rest of the neighborhood held its breath in the moments leading up to the first lift, the brass band atop the Giglio structure began to play traditional Italian songs mixed with more modern hits like “Mr. Saxobeat” by Alexandra Stan.

Finally, Cicileo began shouting his commands in Italian at the lieutenants and lifters, and the men began carrying the Giglio down Havemeyer Street.

As confetti rained down from above, the parishioners of Our Lady of Mount Carmel had lifted up not only the Giglio, but the entire culture of the neighborhood along with it.