“Terrone.” In Italy, this is the derogatory term closest to “redneck” used in the United States. In Italian, “terrone” means “man who works the land,” but it’s used to insult people from Southern Italy. Crude, ill-mannered, ignorant, disrespectful of rules, thieves, delinquents, opportunists, flashy: all these labels are applied to Southerners and summarized in one word. “Terrone.”
Luigi was born in 1961 in Gioia del Colle, a small town in the province of Bari, in southern Italy. He had three siblings: Vito, Grazia, and the youngest, Mario. His father, Piero, was a strict man, made even more dangerous by his drinking habit, which often turned him into a violent monster. After separating from the mother of his four children, Piero found another woman, Dina, with whom he had another son, Donato, and started a new family life. Vito, the eldest, was the first to suffer the father’s abuse, but at 15, he didn’t hesitate: he ran away from home and joined his mother in Milan. Grazia was the only girl, and with Vito gone, the burden of being the eldest son fell on Luigi. Piero would beat and humiliate him at every chance. He forced Luigi to leave school after elementary school and sent him to work at just 11 years old to contribute to the family’s expenses. It was a different time, and seeing children of that age working, especially in southern Italy, was almost normal.
Luigi’s days were long and unrewarding. When he came home, if Piero was in a bad mood, he risked being beaten again, and this terrified him. He endured that life for three years until he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to run away, just as Vito had done. He told Grazia about his plan, and without hesitation, she offered to go with him. She was 16, and he was only 14, and he thought her company would be essential. So, one morning in March, they headed to the train station. Grazia bought the tickets while Luigi, nervous, stayed in the background. They boarded the train with their hearts racing, scared that Piero might catch them. But, after what felt like endless minutes, the train left: destination Milan, about 570 miles (915 kilometers) from Gioia del Colle. During the journey, they breathed in a sense of freedom, imagining their mother’s embrace, whom they had secretly informed of their plan a few days earlier in a phone call. She reassured them: there would be food and a bed for both of them, and she couldn’t wait to see them again.
They crossed Italy from south to north, just 14 and 16 years old. Once they arrived in Milan, they reunited with Maria, their mother, and told her about the violence they had suffered from Piero. Unfortunately, they couldn’t bring Mario, who was still too young, but they hoped that with the help of social workers, he too would get a chance. The first days with Maria were like a dream. After years, they finally received her attention. However, it didn’t take long for them to discover her darker sides.
Maria was an overweight, illiterate woman with little education. She worked as a cleaning lady, and what she earned wasn’t enough to feed two children. Soon, her affection turned to resentment. At first, she was caring, cooking for them and looking after them, but little by little, she became cold, then hostile, until she exploded in violent fits of rage. Maria had an obsessive and conspiratorial nature: she believed that everyone mocked and deceived her because of her illiteracy. According to her, everyone was plotting against her. When her hatred and paranoia grew, she took her frustration out on Grazia and Luigi, punishing them with slaps, sticks, and wooden-soled slippers. She forced them to work to contribute to the household expenses and treated them like servants, subjecting them to her delusions of persecution. She trusted no one, and any small mistake the children made fueled her fury. She was a mentally unstable, crazy woman, and her dangerous paranoia was palpable.
Three years passed this way. Grazia got engaged to Paolo, a man Maria cursed every day, accusing him of wanting to steal her daughter. Maria even tried to dissuade her daughter, making up stories that painted Paolo as a bad and lazy man. Maria was a master manipulator. When Paolo saw the bruises Grazia had, he decided to take her away from that house. Luigi, by then 17, was fighting more and more with his mother, who could no longer physically dominate him. Eventually, he also left, finding refuge in a basement offered by his boss. He worked hard, and his boss helped him willingly. Vito seemed to have been waiting for Luigi to free himself from Maria so they could reconnect, and their bond grew stronger.
In Milan, Luigi had to face another harsh reality: racism. The Milanese immediately labeled him a “terrone,” a brand that isolated him. Making friends was difficult, as was finding a girlfriend, a job, or even an apartment. His strong southern accent, last name, and appearance made it impossible to hide his origins. Being a “terrone” was a curse: the Milanese distrusted Southerners, considering them unreliable and inferior. But Luigi, like many other southern immigrants, didn’t give up. He did everything he could to lose the accent and tried to adapt even in the way he dressed, hoping to escape those deep-rooted prejudices. However, his appearance and last name continued to give him away.
Despite everything, with perseverance, he managed to integrate. He even found a girlfriend. He had just managed to buy a second-hand blue Fiat 124 Sport Coupé, paying it off in monthly installments of 100,000 lire (about $50) for a year. He often went out with a group of friends, including three brothers who welcomed him as one of their own. It was their sister, Lucia, who won Luigi’s heart.
Luigi’s life finally seemed to be turning around: he had a steady job, a place to live, a car he loved, a girlfriend he was crazy about, and a group of friends who made him feel accepted. For the first time in many years, Luigi truly felt happy.
One evening, like many others, Vito invited Luigi to go to the nightclub. He often pestered him, and sometimes Luigi would agree just to stop hearing him. That night, perhaps, Luigi should have declined, because everything changed that night.
As soon as they entered, as usual, Vito pointed out all the beautiful girls passing by. The nights at the club were divided into two parts: the first with upbeat music for dancing wildly, and the second dedicated to slow songs. It was during this time that the guys tried to approach girls sitting alone, hoping to ask them to dance. Luigi noticed a girl sitting on an armchair against the wall and decided to approach her. He asked her to dance, but she, visibly embarrassed, replied that she was too tired. Luigi accepted the rejection with a certain pride and walked away, finding an empty armchair. From there, he watched Vito dancing a slow song with a girl he had just met, and every now and then he glanced at the girl who had turned him down. She was beautiful. The more he looked at her, the more he realized it: really beautiful.
As he watched her, he saw a guy approach her to ask her to dance. She accepted. She whispered something in his ear, then stepped away from him for a moment and walked towards Luigi. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I had promised him.” Luigi appreciated that she apologized, but his pride still stung. He couldn’t stay there watching, so when Vito finished his slow dance, he told him he wanted to leave. And that was the end of the night.
In the following days, Luigi kept thinking about that girl, so beautiful, so damn beautiful. Things with Lucia started to falter; he loved her, but they were arguing more and more often. One evening, after a fight, he decided to go visit his mother, even though they hadn’t parted on good terms. By now, Maria no longer scared him. He expected to find an angry woman, but instead, in front of him was a desperate mother begging him to forgive her and come home. Luigi made peace with her and moved back in, convinced that she could no longer hurt him. Even Vito no longer feared her and had started visiting her again. The bond between Luigi and Vito had never been stronger, and Vito kept inviting him to the nightclub.
About a month had passed since the girl’s rejection, and after yet another invitation, Luigi agreed to go back. As soon as they arrived in the club’s parking lot, Luigi saw her. She was talking with some friends. He was sure it was her. He got out of the car, and before he could even tell Vito who he had spotted, she ran up to him and hugged him. Luigi was stunned. “I haven’t seen you again,” she said, “I came back so many times, but you were never there. I’m glad you’re here.” Then, with a smile, “Tell me the truth, were you mad?”
Luigi was absolutely captivated by her beauty, her liveliness, and the spontaneity with which she hugged him and spoke as if they were old friends. He played it cool: “No, I don’t care who you dance with. You don’t owe me anything, we don’t even know each other!” She looked at him, still with her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Neither of them even knew the other’s name. Vito watched the scene in disbelief, wondering how it was possible they were so familiar without ever having danced or spoken before.
Luigi realized he had in his arms a girl with a vitality he had never seen before. And she was beautiful. Damn beautiful. Her name was Tonia, and she was of Sardinian descent, born and raised in the province of Nuoro, and had come to Milan to find work. Unlike other southerners, though, Sardinians weren’t called “terroni” by northerners. Tonia was 17 years old and worked as a maid in the home of a wealthy Milanese family who, in addition to her salary, provided her with room and board.
Luigi started dating Tonia just as things with Lucia were at their worst. One night, hidden among the rides in a park, they made love, and on that cold February night, Tonia became pregnant. That pregnancy was a disaster that changed the lives of many people. Luigi left Lucia, telling her he had never loved her and that he had only been with her because of a bet. That was the worst lie Luigi could have told. It wasn’t true — Luigi had truly loved Lucia, but by then it was too late, and those words pushed Lucia away forever, making her hate him. Even his brothers wanted nothing more to do with Luigi; they felt betrayed and found peace with it when they remembered the “terrone” origins he came from. When Tonia informed the family she worked for that she was pregnant, she lost her job. Without a home or job, Luigi took her to live with him at his mother’s house. Maria hated her and took every opportunity to insult and belittle her.
Meanwhile, Grazia married Paolo, who got along well with both Vito and Luigi. Paolo offered Luigi a job and a roof over Tonia’s head. He would teach him how to make bread, guarantee him a salary, and give them the back room of the bakery as a place to live. Finally, Luigi could leave his mother’s house, where she had gone mad again with her conspiracy theories, seeing Tonia as the cause of all evil and cursing the baby in her womb for all the suffering it had caused.
In that womb, it was me.
End of part 3
To be continued…
This story is a prequel of Part 1. You can read it here
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