Mamma Mia!

Thanks to a wonderful tour director, a great itinerary, and perfect weather, our recent trip to Italy was all that we had hoped for and more. My husband Larry and I stayed in medieval buildings that had been converted to hotels, drove the stunning Amalfi coast, made our way through the Coliseum, tread over the ancient streets in Pompeii, enjoyed wine tasting in Umbria and Tuscany, climbed numerous stairs to churches and bell towers, and rode on a gondola in Venice. We enjoyed fabulous pasta dishes and ate gelato every day.

In each city we visited, we tried to connect with the Jewish elements of Italy, a history that dates back over two thousand years to the Roman Empire. We viewed one of the most famous reminders of the Judea-Roman connection at the Roman Forum, where we saw the Arch of Titus. I immediately recognized the seven branched menorah in the relief that depicted the Romans celebrating their 70 CE victory over the Jews as they carried their spoils of war from the gutted Second Temple. 

We arrived in Rome on Simchas Torah, preventing access to its synagogue We did, however dine at Nonna Betta’s, a kosher Italian restaurant in the Jewish Quarter. We feasted on carciofo alla Giudia, the fried artichokes (Their menu read “Life is too short to have the wrong Jewish-style artichoke!”) along with delicious pasta dishes. 

After lunch, I headed to the small Judaica shop adjoining the restaurant. As I paid for my purchases, I did my typical “Marilyn the Writer thing” and began asking questions. I learned that Francesca, the “cashier,” and her husband Umberto were owners of the shop and the restaurant. When I told her about my interest in Holocaust stories, Francesca told me that Nonno Betta, Umberto’s 93-year-old mother who lived above the shop and founded the restaurant, was herself a survivor. Although I was able to speak briefly to Umberto and share emails, further attempts to learn more of Nonna Betta’s individual story failed. Through the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum’s Holocaust Encyclopedia, I learned that when the Nazis occupied Rome in September 1943, they sought to include the city’s Jews in the Final Solution. As Italian police did not participate in these roundups and most Italians objected to the deportations, one out of ten Roman Jews were able to find refuge in the Vatican, which retained neutrality, or hide in Catholic homes, churches, and schools. Sadly, 1800 Roman Jews, with a total of 7600 Jews in Italy, were murdered in Auschwitz. 

With only one jam-packed day in Florence, we did not time to visit The Great Synagogue. But I fulfilled a dream I had since reading Irving Stone’s The Agony and the Ecstasy in 1966: I saw Michelangelo’s David in the Accademia in all his 17 feet, six ton plus glory. Along with some discussion among our tour group his anatomy (Was he circumcised or not?*), we took twenty-one photos, about four times more pictures than we took of each other throughout the trip. Mamma Mia! David was that impressive!

In Siena, we and four of our travel companions attempted to visit its synagogue and museum. Unfortunately, we found the building shuttered with an “In ristrutturazione” (under renovation) sign posted on the door. I slipped one of my business cards into the door with (little) hope of hearing from them.

 We were more successful in Venice. Our hotel was a five minute walk to the Ghetto Ebraico, and we strolled through at sunset on a Saturday evening as Orthodox Jews were ending Shabbat. I met Noa, a thirty-something very pregnant woman overseeing her other children playing soccer in the courtyard. She shared with me that she was born in Israel, but she and her husband had been part of the city’s Jewish community comprised of 400 mostly Orthodox Jews for several years.. She invited us to come to their Shabbat dinner, but hearing that the men and women sat in separate rooms, we opted for our pre-arranged dinner plans with friends later that evening. 

It was in Venice that we learned the etymology of the word ghetto. The rise of Catholicism under Empire Constantine (306 to 337 CE) lead to an increasing number of restrictions on the Jewish communities, culminating in 1555 when Pope Paul IV introduced laws forcing Jews to live in a walled quarter whose two gates were locked at night. The word ghetto, according to a Smithsonian article, came from the Italian word getto (foundry) because the first ghetto was established in 1516 on the site of a copper foundry in Venice. As Germany adapted the word for their own “Jewish Quarters,” which they originally called Juddengasse, their guttural pronunciation resulted in changing the spelling to ghetto. 

On our second stroll through the area on Sunday, we noticed that someone was looking down onto the sidewalk. I pulled Larry over where we saw one of the 207 pietres d’inciampo (In German Stolpersteine; in English: “stumbling stones”), the plaques commemorating victims of the Nazi regime, that are located in Italy. Now aware, we found several more that evening before we met our tour group for dinner. 

What moved Larry and me the most, however, was not even on our itinerary. Sara Basile, our guide, told us she had a surprise for us that could be pulled off if and only if we all met at our appointed meeting time in Florence. Another wine tasting? I wondered. Yet another church?

As our bus pulled off the highway onto a quiet road flanked by Tuscan cypress trees, we saw the entrance gates of the Florence American Cemetery and Memorial. 

“My Sicilian parents were always grateful to Americans for defeating Mussolini’s fascist government,” Sara told us. “Taking you here is my way of passing on our country’s gratitude.”

Sara introduced us to our American guide, who gave us the memorial’s history. After the liberation of Rome on June 5, 1944, the U.S. Fifth Army and British Army, supported by the Mediterranean Allied Air Forces, pushed northward. The long and bloody Allied campaign ended on May 2, 1945, when all German forces in Italy surrendered.

The 70 acre Florence memorial, the site of one of the battles, was dedicated on July 25, 1960. Next to a sculpture representing the spirit of peace is a tablet wall listing the 1409 persons missing in action. Larry and I wandered through the graves area, which contains the headstones of 4398 soldiers, of which 4322 are Latin crosses and 76 are Stars of David. As Larry and I followed the Jewish tradition of placing stones on the Jewish graves, I was overcome with gratitude to The Greatest Generation, who had fought in World War II to defeat the Nazis and their cohorts. 

The most moving moment was yet to come. At 4:45 PM, as our tour group and other visitors gathered around the flagpole, taps played from the visitors’ center. Blake, a member of the Coast Guard who was on the tour with his bride of 10 months, slowly lowered the flag into the waiting arms of several members of our group who, in turn, folded the flag. A picture of our group with Blake in the center holding the red, white, and blue parcel captured the solemnity.

We are now back in the United States looking forward to sharing Thanksgiving with a group of friends. As always, we will go around the table and share for what we are grateful. Family. Friendship. Good health. And, for Larry and me, gratitude that we were able to visit Italy. 

*The debate continues. Theories include a smaller form of circumcision; ignorance on the part of the Christian Michelangelo as to what it was; and attempts off the Catholic Church to erase David’s Jewishness. 

.