diario di un terremotato

FRANCAVILLA - Grandma Fausta can now hear. An "angel" with car plate Aosta, in L'Aquila yesterday morning, had the courage to enter the apartment one floor under my totally gutted house, from where 80-year-old mother-in-law had the strength to go out in the end-of-the-world night, climbing along the stairways using the handrails as a jungle leaf. The fireman was moved when my wife Raffaella told him the story of her mother who, when she escaped, did not think about clutching her eyeglasses (a later easily solved problem) and the hearing prosthesis (we were asked, with a huge discount considering the situation, 3900 euros). "I'll try" said the fireman leaving us anxiously waiting in the courtyard of the house. He came back with a small triangular box with the "ears" of Grandma Fausta. I immediately phoned Camilla: it's the last time you need to shout to grandmother, they rescued the hearing aid. "Dad, you're an angel ...".

Lucky day yesterday in spite of its being Friday 17 (but for us Aquilans the unlucky numbers are now 332 and 6409). With Raffaella I returned to L'Aquila: mission our two cars, untouched but hostages of the rubble. At the Brecciarola autogrill the cashier was a little concerned for not having seen me two days in a row. Do not worry, I am alive! Usual queue, this time in front of the half-ruined Porta Napoli (not in front of the church of Cristo Re), at the fire brigade camper. There is mineral water and packaged croissants. A perfect organization. Queuing to try and rescue something from his house, there is also the former Member of Parliament Francesco Aloisio (nicknamed Cecco Peppe). He was wounded: he also lost two teeth (which are now making his speech sound "sliding") but not his notorious humor. I also meet restaurant owner Roberto Spagnoli: he lost his brother Sandro and his sister, my neighbors along Via Sant'Andrea. We embrace for a long time. After the long queue, the wait does not last long. Amid the rubble of the two collapsed buildings ten meters from my house, a passage was opened. In a lunar landscape, we leave our late neighborhood, me driving my Volvo with just its boot scratched by a fallen wall, Raffaella in her untouched Panda. Before emerging into a ghostly Via XX Settembre, I see, parked there, the white 4-wheel drive car of Sandro Spagnoli, with its sign "Protezione civile". The car survived ...

A lucky day, as I said. In a plastic bag where the firemen threw whatever they could recover from my house, I find my Longines watch, presented to me by my father-in-law who emphasized that it was as old as the daughter I was about to marry. It is not over yet. Together with Gabriele, guided by angels with car plate Pisa, we are able to enter the offices of Messaggero at the Fontana Luminosa: my electronic agenda is safe. How lucky! In the evening, at the Pescara offices of my newspaper, here comes the parish priest (Don Giorgio from Santo Spirito) for the Easter blessing. Too much amazing grace!

So many write to me. Ornella reproaches me (and she is right): "I keep reading your stories about angels. Today (yesterday) I found a total discomfort. This is not what we need now! I am alive, am stronger than the earthquake that tried to annihilate our city. I have not cried yet, it is not the right time, there will be time for tears. Now it's time to start over, especially for those who are not here anymore. " Alessandro encourages me: "We must go forward, start again. It's hard, all of us are afraid but we cannot let our city die. Write it, give a shock to all of us who had not yet overcome that terrible night."