E 'Dead In Agnolin. I think many will remember more in Tolmezzo as town clerk at the time of the earthquake. Men are like snails: they are already past but remains in the wake of their passage. Similarly, the men leave in the wake of the memory of their passing. A trail that is lost now or in the time that remains. A trail that is sometimes a sign of discord, sometimes as nostalgia for a relationship of harmony between men that the distance has not dimmed the death can not extinguish.
was the time of the earthquake, the times of fear, uncertainty, difficulty in determining what was appropriate and convenient. And it is in difficult times that arise relations truest, deepest and most sincere. And it was in those moments that was born on my friendship with Nello.
I decided to turn City Hall into what I thought the safest building around the town: the changing rooms of the new sports field, a sort of concrete bunker, and I had also made the accommodation for the secretary. "There is no longer assured of person you," I said. And it was true! But one evening in which the earthquake had a stronger recovery than usual, had taken the fear. "Alone we can not ever be sure," he said. And we camped at best in my home. Who can give more in terms of human relationship, the more needs of the human relationship, because the report is made without, lives more than others the anguish of solitude of the desert.
I have not had the luck only to find a great town clerk that I had great need, given the difficulties of the moment, and daily necessity to invent solutions without being able to refer to any precedent. A secretary who could take the viewpoint of someone who wants to solve the problems, turning the bureaucracy in favor of solutions, helping administrators slalom between the poles of the bureaucracy, to reach the finish line as fast as the general interest. I was especially
lucky to find a great man, capable of great feelings, capable of living the ethics policy as a commitment to serving others, especially those most in need. With him I learned that politics is not only materialize in the commitment of doing, but it can become a way of being, a way to realize the human in an area where one can express the highest level of availability for the common good , for the interest of the community and the individual then your neighbors.
Although coming from completely different experiences we soon found sharing the same values. The story of my passion for Seneca and I still remember the discussions we've done together on the concept that "no matter what is done or given, but with what intention, for. that the property is not in what one does or gives, but in his state of mind of those who give those who hate. " I think I have found in him a living testimony of what I tried to learn from Seneca. And that's how I like to remember, so that will always remain in my memory: a man who knew how to give. Could give humanity and friendship with sincerity and spontaneity. He knew involved with his sensitivity, like a flower that gives nothing but engages and impresses with its beauty with its fragrance. The memory of who gave you something is bound to the thing, the memory of those who learned to live with you in shared feelings and thoughts, stay inside of you in the breath of your thoughts, vibrate in your memories. In Mandi.
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