Siena was his hometown, but Aquila had his heart, in Aquila he wanted to rest forever, that 20 May 1444. On the portals of the proud palaces of Aquila, he had asked to place, instead of the family's coat of arms, the letters IHS - Greek initials for Jesus - surrounded by a crown of sun beams. Many of the half-fallen doors still have the stone-carved monograms, the passports of their dwellers to eternal life.
His disciples Giovanni da Capestrano - yea, the same saint after whom the mission of St Juan Capistrano, California, is named - and Giacomo della Marca worked the following years to raise the fine Renaissance basilica where the earthly remains of St Bernardine were placed, and each year since then the people of Siena came to Aquila to bring the sacred oil, in a kind of ante-literam twinship. In the fine basilica Luca della Robbia made the fine white and blue earthclay and enamel piece in the right nave, Silvestro sculpted the magnificently sad sepulchre where Maria Pereyra Camponeschi buried her 2-year old baby girl, leaving a space for herself whenever the time to be reunited would come. Like many parents today, the allotted destiny of that beautiful, elegantly dressed 15th-century lady, photographed in the ancient marble shot, was to survive her child.
EAMUS AQUILAM. Every morning from the coastal towns along the warm Adriatic sea thousands of cars set off at dawn to take back for the day a displaced community to their hometown, to work, to pick up everyday objects, to deal with necessary bureaucracy, or just to visit. Just to visit, I need to go, at least 2-3 times a week. I don't care about taking things from the house, but need the refreshing view of my mountains, still covered with snow, the chilly air that slowly warms up as the day approaches noon.
EAMUS UNDAM. Today, the day that marks the end of WW2 in Italy, in every city, town and village all over our beautiful generous country - a major war battlefield - there are celebrations to honor those who fought sincerely on whichever side, the civilians and soldiers of so many nations that sent their strongest and most handsome youth to fight for us, their warm blood dripping as dew on a formerly fertile land, turned arid and devastated by bombings.
In the aftermath of this new devastation, our Italian Prime Minister decided to celebrate in Onna, the hamlet where 20% of the population lost their lives in the earthquake, and the hamlet where a German reprisal in 1944 took other lives, of partisans, girls, women, old people. A girl that was killed in 1944 was the sister of an old man who died from wounds of the 6 April 2009 mainshock. A tragic destiny for this seemingly quiet, peaceful farming community among the Abruzzo mountains. A tragic heritage for the coming generations, the children and youth that survived this year's devastation, with their large speechless eyes, all everyday certainties vanished in a matter of seconds, their young souls a bottomless abyss, and beyond, their tomorrows, opening on an unknown future. We must go to Aquila, we must go to Onna, they must not be left alone, they will never be alone.