La Strada Da Seguire: The Road to Follow

by Susan Toscan

  Michael had flinched as Steven explained, and now he stared down at the ground as he replied, obviously deeply disturbed and preoccupied with what he’d heard. “Now I understand you being so very angry with me, Steven. She doesn’t deserve to live with a creep like that. I knew that guy before Agnes and I were married. I didn’t like him then. I met him in one of the sheds I was working in. He was a real troublemaker.”

  Michael seemed to drift off in thought, almost as if he were somewhere else. Perhaps he was picturing the faces of his wife and children—a memory of what could have been. Then his attention came back to his friend, who was watching him carefully. “I’ve prayed that she would find someone kind and gentle, someone she could be happy with…” Michael’s voice trailed off, and Steven could see that he was lost in his own thoughts once again.

  There was nothing more Steven could do for his friend. It was time for Steven to go home. He gave Michael his—as well as Agnes’s—addresses; he knew now that Michael would not contact his family, but he should at least know where they were living. He promised Michael that he would stay in touch and keep him informed about Agnes and the children. Michael also made Steven promise that, while he was still alive, he wouldn’t tell Agnes where he was or what condition he was in. He’d caused her enough pain, without adding the burden of that knowledge onto her.

  As Steven said goodbye to Michael, his heart was heavy. He knew that he would never see his friend again, and he was sad beyond reason. He could not help him; no-one could. He prayed that Michael would live out his time in the reasonable comfort of the place that he now called home. He had friends there and the people cared about him. He would be looked after.

  Michael had told Steven that he had some savings; when his time came, he wanted Steven to make sure that Agnes got the money. He had written out a will with all of the details, and he insisted that Steven take a copy of the document with him.

  Italy: A father’s blessing

  Savina knew that she had to find something fulfilling to do with her time while Alessandro returned to working at the mine at Bassano. She knew that it was necessary for him to work and save the money they needed to leave Italy, but it meant that they did not see each other for weeks at a time. Savina talked to her sister Olga, and together they decided to try to find small jobs outside of their home to keep them busy and get them away from their stepmother for a while. The sisters decided to walk up to the convent on the outskirts of the village to see if they could find work. The pay would be minimal as the nuns were very poor, but they certainly needed help.

  The convent was part-hospital, part-school for the village, and the nuns had limited resources in both areas. Savina and Olga were strong and capable; they were happy to help make up beds, change bandages, cook and clean. The nuns were thrilled to have the help of two such capable young women. Both girls would hurry to get all of their jobs done so that before leaving, they could visit the nursery where the new babies were. The nuns helped deliver babies when necessary, but most were born at home. The convent offered help to the new mothers, who loved having somewhere they could go to seek the advice and support of other mothers as well as the nuns. The time the girls spent with the women and their babies proved to be enlightening. They learned what a demanding job it was to look after those tiny creatures.

  However, the girls’ spending time at the convent did not please their stepmother Paula. Savina and Olga had decided that they needed this work for themselves and that they had a right to spend time away from home. They stood up to Paula when she objected, and for once, their father supported them.

  “Paula, the girls will get their chores done at home, but they need some time for themselves. You must not be so hard on them,” Antonio stated patiently—he did not want to upset his wife. As a result, the sisters were given leave to go to the convent whenever they wanted, and this made a great difference to their lives.

  Savina made new friends and found that the weeks went by very quickly. In fact, for the first time, this restless young woman found some contentment in her life.

  In the meantime, working in the mine was proving to be good for Alessandro, who also formed new friendships and found that he enjoyed the hard work. Even though he could only get home to see Savina once every few weeks, it was good to see that she had found something fulfilling to do with her time. She seemed to be really enjoying her work at the convent.

  Alessandro was still trying to settle into a routine with his job. Even though he would not want the years of the war back, he found that he did miss his partisan friends. He also missed the nomadic life that they had led. Those years had certainly been hard, but he had enjoyed exploring areas of his country that he had never had the opportunity to see prior to the war.

  He looked forward with almost unbearable anticipation to the day that he and Savina could leave for Australia, but for the time being, he had to keep saving. He was also sending money to help his family, the balance of which his brother Franco was keeping until Alessandro could return home. It was not safe to keep the money with him while he was working. In general, the village people did not trust banks as very few had completely recovered from the devastated economy after the war. The people kept their money as cash hidden somewhere in their homes.

  Alessandro was counting the days until he could get home again as he was very tired. The men had been working round-the-clock shifts, and he found it difficult to adjust to the shift work. It was physically demanding, and the exhaustion was really getting to him; he needed a break. Working long hours underground in a coal mine was taking its toll. Alessandro had found it a lot easier before the war, although of course he had been younger then.

  One week before he was due to go back to Cavaso, Alessandro was helping his colleagues move heavy rocks in preparation to build a new mine shaft. Without warning, the pile of loose rocks began to roll towards the men.

  Alessandro shouted to his workmates to move quickly, but one of them stumbled. The young Italian reached out to pull his friend out of the way, but as he did so, he became aware of the excruciating pain in his right hand. It had been caught between two large rocks, and he could not free it. He screamed for help, and his friends rushed to his aid. It took some time for them to lever the rocks off of Alessandro’s hand—the pain had caused him to lose consciousness—and when they finally succeeded in lifting the rocks, they saw that two of his fingers had been particularly badly crushed. He came round as he was being lifted out of the mine. One of his friends had run ahead to the nearest village to find a doctor.

  The doctor examined Alessandro’s hand and saw that it was broken. The young man’s little and ring fingers were too badly crushed for the doctor to attempt to save them. Alessandro was beyond pain; he had lost consciousness again. It was the best opportunity to amputate the two damaged fingers, so with some of Alessandro’s fellow workers holding the wounded man still, the doctor proceeded to operate.

  When Alessandro came round some hours later, he was still in pain; his hand was heavily bandaged with a splint to support it. His friends explained that the doctor had had no choice but to take the fingers. As he still had his hand, however, Alessandro would be able to work again. He was in shock, and his friends kept up a supply of strong alcoholic grappa to numb his pain and help him rest; the following day, he woke with a painful hand and a very bad hangover.

  Time at home in Cavaso with his family and Savina would give him a chance to recover. He had to wait another day, but as soon as he was strong enough, he walked to the nearest village and got a ride with a farmer going his way. Alessandro lay down in the back of the dray with the bales of hay, and as the horse pulling the cart was very old and slow, it gave him the opportunity to have a nap with the sunshine warming his body.

  At first, Savina did not see the bandage on Alessandro’s hand—she was very surprised to see him home unexpectedly and in the middle of the week—but as she ran to him, he held up his hand and explained why he was not at the mine. Savina was upset
by his injury.

  “Bella, please don’t worry. I’m doing much better,” he assured her. “I’m confident that my hand will function perfectly well once it heals.”

  With dark humour, they laughed about the fact that he had survived the war reasonably unscathed while this accident at work had caused him to lose two fingers. Savina was so happy to see him that she teased him a little. “Well you obviously don’t need any sympathy, so let’s put this time to good use and further explore our plans to go to Australia.”

  Alessandro had received the assisted passage documents from the immigration authorities in Venice. The documents explained that the ships to Australia sailed from Genoa, which was a city on the opposite side of the country from their village. When the time came for them to leave Italy, they would have to travel to Genoa by train. The final step in the application process meant that they needed to go to Venice to sign and collect their visas, and they knew they would not be able to do that until they were married. Alessandro and Savina were getting very frustrated with all of the obstacles in their way. They knew that it was time to talk to their families about their plans.

  They approached Antonio when he was out pruning his grape vines. He was engrossed in his work and did not notice the young couple walking towards him.

  “Antonio!” Alessandro called, startling the older man, who quickly recovered from his surprise and started to laugh.

  “Ben venuto ragazzo mio. Sei venuto per aiutare un vecchio?” He answered—Welcome, my boy. Have you come to help an old man? Antonio smiled at his daughter. “Ciao figlia.”

  “Ciao Papa,” replied Savina, kissing her father on the cheek. Alessandro gave Antonio an apologetic, and slightly nervous, smile. “I’m not here to help out today—I’m sorry—but we would like to talk to you if you have a minute?” Alessandro was trying not to appear anxious as he was aware that their news would be very difficult for Antonio. Savina took his hand as reassurance.

  “Sure, sure, I will always make time for you two. Come sit in the shade. What is on your mind today? All the plans for the wedding are going all right, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, Antonio, everything for the wedding is organised. There is something else that we want to talk to you about.

  “Well go on, boy,” Savina’s father said impatiently, “what is on your mind?” He did not like to waste time.

  Alessando looked at Savina. “Antonio, we have decided that after we are married, we are going to migrate to Australia to join my uncle and his family there. We have thought about this since my return from the war, and we really want your blessing on our decision.”

  The young couple watched Antonio’s face. He did not seem surprised by what he had been told. He put his head in his hands and seemed to be thinking for a moment before he looked up once more at the two young people before him. His spirited daughter, who seemed to burn energy just standing still, was his pride and joy. Alessandro had been through more than any young man should—but here he was, ready to marry Savina and start a new life in a distant land. Antonio admired them both. They had their whole lives ahead of them, and he envied them.

  Savina was getting impatient. “Well, Papa, do we have your blessing? We know that our decision won’t be easy for our families to accept, but we hope that we’ll at least have your support. And we really want to get married six months sooner than you originally said so that we can go to Venice to get the visas and have our passage arranged to leave in early November.”

  After a long discussion, Savina’s father finally agreed that they could be married in September 1949. “Figlia avrai la mia benedizione ed il mio cuore.”—You have my blessing, daughter, as you have my heart.

  Antonio was quiet for a minute or two before he spoke again. “I suppose that I will have to save so that someday I can travel to visit you in Australia.”

  Savina hugged her father. “Grazie, Papa.”

  She did not expect any support from Paula, but her sisters and brother were thrilled by the news that the wedding was being brought forward. The prospect of her moving such a long way away was upsetting for them, but they wanted what was best for her, and they knew that Alessandro—the man they loved and trusted so much—would keep Savina happy and safe wherever she was.

  Savina and Alessandro next went to see the local priest to discuss a date for the small family service. Weddings had become commonplace since the war had ended as most of the young men who had returned were keen to settle down to some semblance of a normal existence. The priest was pleased that Alessandro and Savina were getting married. He had known them most of their lives, and he too wanted a peaceful existence for the young people of his village who had missed out on so much. They had not had the opportunity to be youthful; they all had grown up too quickly.

  As the wedding would be a simple affair, there was not a lot of planning involved. On the day of the event, the families would escort the bride and groom to the church and then a short service would follow the Sunday mass, after which the families would return to Savina’s family home for lunch. This was all fine with the young couple. Neither of them liked too much fuss, and in reality, they were focusing on everything that lay beyond the wedding.

  Alessandro and Savina would go to Venice the day after they were married to collect their visas, and on 2 November 1949, they would leave on a ship called Achille Lauro departing from Genoa. In many respects, they were sailing into the unknown. They knew from Frank Messera’s letters that the centre of the small community he lived in was a town called Griffith in the state of New South Wales. The young Italian couple had no comprehension of Australia’s massive size. They had been told that the whole of Italy would fit into just one of this mysterious country’s smaller states. They knew that the town of Griffith was a long way from Sydney, which they mistakenly believed was the capital of Australia.

  Once they had arrived in Sydney, Alessandro and Savina would travel by train to Griffith. The train trip would take them a whole day, but they had waited so long for this already that they did not mind the idea of more travelling. Savina was very nervous about the ocean voyage in particular. She had never seen the ocean, and it was fear of the unknown that made her anxious. Even though the opportunity to travel on a large ship seemed romantic, Savina was practical enough to realise that it would also be difficult at times. So many new, and possibly daunting, experiences awaited this young couple—and they could not wait for it all to begin.

  Italy: A taste for

  wild behaviour

  At fifteen years old, Giovanni, Savina’s young brother, was oblivious to all of the wedding plans. He was a bit on the wild side and was always off somewhere with his friends. As boys were not expected to help with the household chores, he was often not at home. His parents placed very little responsibility on him aside from requiring his assistance on the farm when it came time to prune the grape vines and fruit trees. During the harvests, he would also help pick the fruit.

  “Giovanni, I do hope you will make sure that you attend our wedding. You are always running off somewhere these days,” Savina joked with her brother.

  “Of course I’ll be there. You’re my favourite sister, and I wouldn’t want to miss it. You know that I’m happy for you and Alessandro. I don’t get all the wedding stuff, but I’ll be there to wish you well.” Giovanni looked thoughtfully at his sister. He really did love her. “I will miss you and Alessandro. He’s like a big brother to me, and I can’t imagine my life without both of you. Alessandro understands me so much better than Mama and Papa.”

  Savina put her arm around her brother’s shoulders. She could tell that he was getting choked up, and she was touched by his words. Giovanni had been a very young child through most of the war years, so he did not carry the same emotional scars that the older children did.

  He was very much like Savina—a bit of a rebel. Being a boy, he seemed to get away with a lot more than his sisters were ever allowed to. Savina loved him even though she recognised that he was spoilt and
quite precocious. The girls were as much to blame as their parents were. It had been good to have a little person to shower with love during the war, when life had seemed so devoid of that emotion. As a result, they had one very spoiled little boy, who had grown into a spoiled young man with a taste for wild behaviour.

  Giovanni had a passion for fast motorbikes. He and his friends had found several that had been discarded by the retreating German army. Many were damaged, but they managed to retrieve parts from the worst bikes and put together a few that were in good working order. Although petrol was still hard to come by, they were resourceful enough to drain the petrol from all the bikes and then store and ration it so that they could enjoy occasional rides along the mountain tracks.

  The boys were forbidden to go too far into the mountains by their parents, and Antonio would often caution his son, “You be careful, my boy. There are lots of unseen dangers in the bushes along the roads where you ride those motorbikes.”

  Giovanni rolled his eyes at his overprotective father. “We are careful, Papa. You worry too much,” was his flippant reply. Antonio shook his head and gave his son a brief hug. He did not want to keep nagging him, and in many ways he envied the free spirit that came with being young and carefree. One of his biggest concerns was the unexploded bombs left in the area, also a legacy of the retreating German troops. The bombs had been found quite close to the village.

  Everyone was paranoid about the risk of further injury or death, fearful that a curious child might pick up a bomb or an unsuspecting farmer might accidentally hit one with his machinery. Such an accident had recently resulted in the death of a farmer and his young son. In order to prevent more harm, teams of men would scour the region in an attempt to find these dangerous weapons. The potential for tragedy made everyone watchful.

  The local teenagers, however, generally ignored the warnings about the bombs. They did not believe that they were in any danger. They were bored young men in search of the excitement that did not exist in their day-to-day lives. The caution of the adults stifled and angered them; they needed an outlet for their frustration and for their testosterone-fuelled energy. Riding motorbikes down the steep mountain tracks at very fast speeds gave them the thrills they craved. They were all competent riders, and they had no fear. This was a continual source of worry for their parents.