In human affairs it is sometimes difficult prioritize the things we do. It's really difficult to assess the importance of the impression, more or less, which we leave to our passage on this earth our small, the size of our aspirations, as well as reduced our views. It is also true that if we had not, this would not seem more or less bleak than it would be self-sufficient in the absence of any other part. But the fact remains that still belong to her like any small particle, and then we mark our passage for those who want to snatch any meaning.
We therefore tend to record what, sometimes subjectively, there appears to be worthy of remembrance, highlighting, in a often uncritical or in part, historical events, or what we call these, perhaps more to ourselves that we commemorate the event.
Often, small daily events, those who today are quickly stored at the excessive speed of the record, do not keep for more than a week quell'orma that deserves a memory far greater than the speed of the technological and commercial reserves , if only because it is linked to that shared fundamental values \u200b\u200bthat is human life.
Our presumption is often relegated to taxonomic practice, the calculation of the unit or all'altisonante nomenclature past lives of our fellow humans. Under our eyes are sterile antecedents and parallels the recent stirrings of others, the passions of others. But often our skin soft shell and the less tangible synthesized soul was much more tough and the other to the microcosm they represent.
First, before television was imposed on all of us, as the word absolute, and far ahead of the supposed infallibility of the Internet, there was the memory to give value to the memory of an event. There was in fact the possibility to extend it to posterity, who, perhaps in the form sweetened, sometimes substantially modify, transmit to future history. This, however, maintained despite the changes, that human value that made him universally acceptable to all and for this valuable and worthy to be transmitted.
Of the fact that I would like to talk much more recent than the history of the Neapolitan people to which I belong, has significant compassion for the human who is similar and equally human baseness that dot our ups and downs .
is an event that occurred in 1964, that were it not for the memory of quegl'uomini who witnessed today he would have lost almost every trace.
In fact, the network while useful, new information frontier, has retained very little stuff in her mesh and only the memory of those who were children or little more than a man at the time the material which will tell you, can give dignity to the memory of those who lost their most precious asset.
Easter in our country, on the slopes of Vesuvius, where time mimics the variability of the local mood is not always synonymous with spring and winter s'abbarbicò year with what's left and all its emphasis on the incipient spring.
the night of March 28, 1964 was Easter Saturday and a storm was raging in Naples full-blown. We know that when it rains, for us, both in town and country it's no joke, channels, complain that the forward-looking Bourbon, had to build on the slopes Somma, can become more than streams in full and therefore be very dangerous. The city then, with its underground Swiss cheese, which has very afraid and watch where you put your feet on the city of Naples, will be more than useful, appropriate. The quiet of the Vesuvian
Holy Saturday that was shaken only by the roar of the storm, and only a few elderly who function prepares to midnight looking at the sky hoping for a fill. Someone else hastened to return home to celebrate Easter with family, others as few idle boys and happy for the school holidays, lingered under a dripping gutter to chat with older friends in the square.
This was a cross-section of everyday life in countries such as Massa, Pollena Trocchia or San Sebastian at the time of economic boom, when hope still had a foundation.
slight compared to those who lived it already in full swing, taking advantage of the long wave that took us from the darkness of war to a new world and hope to be involved, at least in small part, was the most rewarding thing .
Capodichino Airport, Saturday, March 28, was also targeted by the arrows of Jupiter pluvio and as if that were not enough, demonstrating the new climate, the cosmopolitan city living and the nation, air traffic was considerable. Scheduled flights gave way to those of the U.S. military, which required an order of priority to streamline the traffic of the port of Naples.
The mountain, 'to Muntagna , as the locals call it, Mount Somma is commonly referred to as, to differentiate it from the most recent Great Cone of Vesuvius (although it really is not that the oldest part of that volcano) that night was covered by a thick blanket of clouds, which would have concealed the existence of all those who have not memorized the grim shape memory branded line of crested Cognoli. That evening when
Aniello was preparing to rest after a quiet evening in the company of friends, facilitated some short rest. Around midnight, however, was awakened by the sound of sirens.
Aniello rushed into the streets and in the confusion he understood that something serious had happened, very serious, but where it came from the glow? 'By de chiana potting, "The same gravity that everyone understood that they heard the muffled roar, like the women outside the Church of the Assumption in Massa, marvel at the glow of the flames from the clouds and intermittent showers of water, so as in San Sebastian, Raphael spent his institutional office warned the local police station, even Guido, commander of the police station to Cercola, understood everything, seeing the tear strip of fire the side of the Somme. Soon s'intese the roar that shook the night Vesuvius was caused by the crash of a plane, a twin-engined Viscount Alitalia with its human cargo of forty people.
intervened in the early hours of the morning "the authorities", the police, firefighters, but no one knew how to get to where the plane or what was left still burning despite the rain. The area in question, identified with the name at the time, no longer used the Crest of the Thistle, was located about 670 meters, at the headwaters of Chianatelle, almost dried up springs from nature and by human carelessness, on the side of pollenese Sum. A place rough and stormy night certainly not facilitated access. It was necessary, then the guidance of experienced people to reach the scene of the disaster.
Aniello, an expert hunter snipe, it was, it was when 'to Muntagna was an integral part of social and economic life of the countries of the area and not an appendage or a reflection of a strange story told too many times to hear her own. People like him, attended with respect, they moved in a context that has full knowledge and not because he had been taught by someone sterile but because you were born and the beloved as something that belongs to viscerally feel loved and thus, it was their world in fact.
Aniello, then thirty, he proposed to accompany the vanguard of the rescue using his knowledge of the area. In light of the photocells we walked up to the point of impact, the flames then led the way to the sad sight that rescuers found on the slopes of the caldera.
shreds of human flesh appeared among the twisted metal and steaming of what remained of the airplane, semicarbonizzati bodies hanging from the thick vegetation, a chaos of light and darkness, flesh and metal, water and fire.
It was not the scenario that those present had expected to see that on Holy Saturday, and that they will remember for a lifetime. Luciano
that morning did not fact imagined to be present, in addition to the agony of human limbs, even to something less truculent but much more horrifying than death itself, even as dramatic as that which had foreshadowed the night before Easter '64. It was the death of human dignity which had been lowered to infinitesimally small acts of looting, encouraged by the news of the discovery of money and precious among the carcasses. Some people even said that someone had cut the fingers of corpses to deprive them of the Rings, Luciano, then the first appointment, he was forced to use his pistol to scare people, not even the respect for death, restrained in their baseness.
There are those who curse them again, rather than the shame imposed on the community, the chasm which had brought the human soul.
The first light of that Easter Sunday did not soothe the soul and Lucia Aniello, and Michael and Louise, as well as that of all those who hoped to find a survivor in what appeared to be the greatest of tragedies for empathy of the moment.
The scrub oaks and chestnut trees, shattered before their eyes opened, the charred stumps of locust, oak broken, like the lives of those men and women, did not open any glimmer of understanding of that tragedy, as it was incomprehensible to moment of discovery of the corpse of a child in brooms still smoking, intact, in his dress, in his sleep in death, stigmatized by that stream of blood that colored the sky-blue doll's face, Luciano was moved again to the memory of that vision, perhaps even more distressing because they are still untouched and not consumed by death.
The newspapers of March 31 unveiled the scale of the disaster and begin to ask the first questions.
The plane, coming from Turin, after a stopover in Rome Ciampino, was directed in Naples and brought its human cargo of hopes, dreams and expectations. Many of the passengers in fact went in Naples to spend the Easter holidays, but not everyone was simply a tourist, there were Tom and Robert rulers of the U.S. Navy, but Lawrence and his wife Fay and their children Steven and Jill, and many others who work or follow their loved ones were killed on the flight AZ-45.
Pasquale was the commander and was a man well experienced and knew the route so as to leave that evening the instrument landing procedure (Instrumental Landing System) and manually turn the Bay of Naples give time to the U.S. air force planes to land. What happened there is not known, probable human error, but how to explain it? Then there were no black boxes that only soon to be installed aircraft, all remains shrouded in dense mystery of that night. Tuscan
Chatting with a friend during a hike on the sum, I learned that Amiata, an ancient volcanic crater is disqualified aviation precisely because of the strong magnetic variations due to the nature of the terrain. Then such a hypothesis is plausible for this incident? What is the maddened dashboard of the Viscount that night?
I'm no expert and I will not even fear leading to the Voyager, but I just want to record an event and an opportunity that I hope someone more experienced than I can ascertain. Add this news to the testimony of Umberto that the afterglow the Second World War, was the result of the allies. Umberto noticed strange electromagnetic interference on the radio as it rose towards the cone, past Colle Umberto.
Another element of no less importance is that of another plane crash, before the disaster on Easter. Here the news is more limited, however, because the plane in question belonged to the Air Forces of the United States of America and if we exclude the press and the fictional chronicles in this case we can only commend the witnesses of 'took place and to demonstrate the risk, at least statistically, the sum of those times.
The C47 Dakota
of the U.S. military had arrived at 22:02 to Saturday, February 16, 1958 at the airport of Capodichino, from Wiesbaden, was adopted to Istanbul. After regular stopover for refueling resumed his journey to the next stop greek. But at 22:30, according to the morning of 20 February, it lost all contact with the twin-engine aircraft and its cargo of 16 men on board.
In this case the record matches the testimony of our Aniello, dear friend and an endless source of memories, which places us at once in the recent past when they still have a pair of binoculars meant to have an object to be passed down to their children and not easy availability. Wednesday, 19, a strange gleam coming from the northeast side of Cognoli had attracted the attention of another Raphael Alert Pollena, then that, get the rare optical instrument was able to discern between the snow for a couple of days covered the mountain, the rudder of the plane, a mo 'waving in the wind vane and reflected sunlight.
Thus, after four days of fruitless searches Joint Italy / USA, he had finally found the airplane. Needless to say, the curiosity of the rooms was great and that pushed many of the slopes of Somma. Aniello still remembers that the most settled, a reverent and prudent distance on rocky outcrops of the ancient caldera to observe the recovery of remains of soldiers, all died on impact and described by a reporter then as the casts of Pompeii. Another thing that attracted the attention of those present was the recovery of some strange pockets whose vision linked to the disproportionate reaction of the military to intimidate the direct gunshot to the curious, suggesting that it was something precious or definitely important.
Viscount Of the 45 victims were three children, five crew members, six of them were never identified, three were never found, probably destroyed by the loud explosion and giving rise to stories of strange disappearances which can never be explained except by the imagination. The six bodies and the names of three missing probably still reside in the cemetery of Poggioreale and now survive only in memory of Aniello, Luciano, of Stephen and of those kids who, incredulous and curious, they discussed the initiation of contact with death, that they was brought into the adult world, the harsh reality, but at the same time, were the carriers of memory, the bond that unites every person in the history of mankind.
era photos daily newspaper libraries were kindly provided by Victor Emanuele II and Banco di Napoli. The medal by Stefano Sorrentino, and child at the time that the object received from an uncle intervened between the first on the scene of the disaster and compassionate guardian of the remains of the forgotten victims.
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