VAL GARDENA MAGAZINE
SELVA: THE MEMORIES OF OUR GRANDPARENTS
I am the oldest child in the photo, beside my father
W
e lived in Milan, and I still recall the first air raid sirens warning us of the bombardment which would wreak destruction on half the city. The year was 1940, the very start of the war, and that was why - to get as far away from it as possible - my parents bought a house in Selva, in a magnificent location on the road leading to the Rifugio Firenze mountain hut, not far from the village centre. I was in Primary 2 at the time and went to the local school while my father was 14 | VAL GARDENA | DOLOMITES |
fighting in Dalmatia, where my family came from originally. We stayed in Selva until 1943, after which we went to live with my grandmother, who had a villa on Lake Como. We returned in 1946 and from then on, we opened the house up again the moment school broke up in winter and summer ‌ every year until 1965, when it was sold. We made the journey to Selva on a puffing, wheezing train that took a loop tour of the meadows surrounding the church en-route to the sta-
tion. Rosy-cheeked children waved at the passengers, who waved back through the windows. The war, with all of its turmoil and destruction, was a world away. It was the 40s of the last century and Selva was, to my mind, a magical land of peace waiting to be explored. The people spoke Ladino, a mysterious language, and their lives had for centuries remained identical to that of their forebears. The land provided rye, turnips and hay for the animals. In the evenings, the cattle, goats and
