L'Italo-Americano

THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 2024 www.italoamericano.org 14 L'Italo-Americano LA VITA ITALIANA TRADITIONS HISTORY CULTURE D e a r r e a d e r s , O n A p r i l 1 8 t h , 1 9 0 6 , San Francisco experienced a magnitude 7.9 earthquake. It was the most significant earthquake of all time. The famous tenor Enrico Caru- so, on tour in San Francisco, performed in Carmen just hours before the earthquake. He wrote the following essay about his experience for a London magazine: " Y o u a s k e d m e t o s a y what I saw and what I did d u r i n g t h e t e r r i b l e d a y s w h i c h w i t n e s s e d t h e destruction of San Francis- co. Well, there have been m a n y a c c o u n t s o f m y s o - called adventures published in the American papers, and most of them have not been quite correct. Some of the papers said that I was terri- bly frightened, that I went half crazy with fear, that I dragged my valise out of the hotel into the square and sat upon it and wept. But all this isn't true. I was frightened, as many others were, but I did not lose my head. I was staying at the Palace Hotel, where many of my fellow artists were staying, and very com- fortable it was. I had a room on the fifth floor, and on Tuesday evening, the night before the great catastrophe, I went to bed feeling very content. I had sung in Car- m e n t h a t n i g h t , a n d t h e opera had gone over very well. But what an awakening! You must know that I am not a very heavy sleeper. I a l w a y s w a k e e a r l y , a n d when I feel restless, I get up and go for a walk. So, on Wednesday morning early, I w a k e u p a t a b o u t f i v e o'clock, feeling my bed rock- ing as though I am on a ship on the ocean. Then, as the rocking continues, I get up and go to the window and what I see makes me trem- ble with fear: I see the build- i n g s t o p p l i n g o v e r , b i g pieces of masonry falling and, from the street below, I hear the cries and screams of men and women and chil- dren. I r e m a i n s p e e c h l e s s , t h i n k i n g I a m i n s o m e dreadful nightmare, and for something like forty sec - onds, I stand there, while the buildings fall, and my room still rocks like a boat on the sea. And during the f o r t y s e c o n d s , I t h i n k o f f o r t y t h o u s a n d d i f f e r e n t things, all that I have ever d o n e i n m y l i f e p a s s e s before me, and I remember trivial things and important things. And then I gather my faculties together and I call for my valet: he comes rush- ing in, quite cool, and with- out any tremor in his voice says, "It is nothing," but all the same he advises me to dress quickly and go into the o p e n . M y v a l e t g i v e s m e some clothes, I know not what the garments are, but I get into a pair of trousers and into a coat, and draw s o m e s o c k s o n , a n d m y shoes, and every now and again the room trembles, so that I jump and feel very nervous. I make my way to Union Square, where I see some of my friends, and one of them tells me he has lost every- thing except his voice, but he is thankful that he still has that. They tell me to come out to a house that is still standing, but I say I prefer to remain in a place where t h e r e i s n o f e a r o f b e i n g buried by fallen buildings. So I lie down in the square for a little rest, and soon I begin to see the flames, and all the city seems to be on fire. A l l t h e d a y I w a n d e r Advancing our Legacy: Italian Community Services CASA FUGAZI If you know of any senior of Italian descent in San Francisco needing assistance, please contact: ItalianCS.org | (415) 362-6423 | info@italiancs.com Italian Community Services continues to assist Bay Area Italian-American seniors and their families navigate and manage the resources needed to live healthy, independent and productive lives. Since Shelter-in-Place began in San Francisco, Italian Community Services has delivered over 240 meals, over 900 care packages and made over 2000 phone wellness checks for our seniors. about and tell my valet we must try and get away, but the soldiers will not let us pass. We can find no vehi- cles and this night we are forced to sleep on the hard ground in the open. Then my valet succeeds in getting a man with a cart who says he will take us to the Oak- land Ferry for a certain sum. We pile the luggage into the cart and climb in after it. The man whips up his horse and we start: we pass terri- ble scenes on the way, build- i n g s i n r u i n s , a n d e v e r y - w h e r e t h e r e s e e m s t o b e smoke and dust. The driver seems in no hurry, which m a k e s m e i m p a t i e n t a t times, for I am longing to return to New York, where I know I shall find a ship to t a k e m e t o m y b e a u t i f u l Italy and my wife and my little boys. When we arrive at Oak- land, we find a train there which is just about to start, and the officials take charge of my luggage and tell me to go get on board, which I am very glad to do. Lastra a Signa (Florence): the museum dedicated to Caruso, in the villa that once belonged to him (Photo: Cellai Stefano/Dreamstime)

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