Unashamed of Hope...

with profound life experiences whose stories had not been heard so those stories could be elevated and amplified.

One of those storytellers was Ron Ritzie, a lifelong resident of Morristown who has watched his childhood community change over the years. An accomplished artist, painter, and muralist, Ritzie had not yet committed his own story to words. The Untold Stories project and its training workshops gave him the opportunity to craft his story creatively, during a summer when many of his childhood haunts were being destroyed for new construction.

“It became a cathartic process,” Ritzie remembers. “I went into a search of going back to my childhood, childhood trauma. And it was very difficult because I thought, I’m 64 years old. I felt that I had dealt with it all. And I had. But there were certain things that needed truth to be told to it, because there were two sides to a story. And I wanted to know the truth.”

As the storytellers worked together in workshops, many of their stories became more vulnerable and personal. For Ritzie, as for many of the storytellers, facing the truth of their stories activated emotions that they had buried for years. But allowing their buried stories to be seen, heard, and validated also proved liberating. “To tell you the truth, that last summer, I did nothing but cry,” Ritzie says, comparing the process to peeling the layers off an onion or a scab off a wound. “It was like that. And when I finally got to the root of the truth, I was okay.”

After completing their training, the storytellers performed in each of their four communities. For Ritzie, the Morristown venue held particular symbol-

• Beyond Timber; the Future of New Jersey’s Forests

• The Morris Canal: Northern New Jersey’s Water Highway with the Canal Society of NJ

About Rotary Rotary International is a nonpolitical and nonsectarian organization open to all people regardless of race, color, creed, religion, gender, or political preference. There are more than 35,000 clubs worldwide dedicated to bringing together business and professional leaders to provide humanitarian services, encourage high ethical standards in all vocations, and to advance goodwill and peace around the world. Guests are welcome to join ences heal, too.

Ritzie is still performing with the Untold Stories of a Storied People project, but his stories will most likely turn aside from childhood trauma.

“I did it,” he says, “I dug up those bones. I buried them so many times. And now it’s time for me to continue to do what I need to do as an artist, as somebody that’s going to live a healthy life for years to come.”

After the success of Phase One, the project itself will change and expand, too. If funding is secured, a hoped-for Phase Two will grow Untold ic importance: the event took place at Grow It Green Urban Farm, across from his former junior high school.

About sixty people attended the Morristown performance. In the talkback after the event, one audience member addressed Ritzie specifically.

Ritzie had told a story about a painful and highly unusual childhood experience; the man in the audience had lived through the exact same thing.

“That’s when it came full circle for me,” Ritzie says. “After everything was done on the last performance, I knew I had done what I needed to do. And the healing started.”

It’s an experience that happened more than once. “Every single audience reflected back to us that they too felt seen and heard, because the storyteller stories were often their stories,” says Krapf. Sharing stories not only healed the storytellers, but helped their audi- a weekly Rotary breakfast meeting at the Florham Park Diner at 182 Ridgedale Avenue to learn more about their local Rotary club. Those meetings are also held via Zoom to provide the option for members who can›t physically attend frequently in the Diner. Meetings are 7:47 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. every Friday.

Stories of a Storied People to include a monthly storytelling lab in Madison and the ability to bring aboard more storytellers with untold stories from immigrants, veterans, especially female veterans, essential workers during COVID, and all others who feel unseen and unheard.

Krapf hopes that the empathy created by storytelling can offer better solutions. “Our humanity needs to be elevated,” she says. “We need to respond to these times in a different way than the way that we’re responding.”

More ways to learn about the Florham Park Rotary are to visit www.FlorhamParkRotary.com, check Florham Park Community TV (Channels 21 for Cablevision and 35 for Verizon), or call or write Membership Chair George Gregor at ggregor@florhamparkrotary.comor 917-848-0982.

That’s one answer to our original question: what are stories for?

The Untold Stories project / program shows that stories can be for healing, catharsis, connection, and liberation.

Or, as Micah Bournes writes in the poem “Humming Fools” linked on Storytelling Arts’ website, stories can be for creating hope– hope that by witnessing each other’s stories, we can all become more human. For more information about Untold Stories of a Storied People, visit www.storytellingartsinc.org/

Bucket List Travels: The World’s Wildest Horse Race

Morristown resident Paul Partridge has been building a travel bucket list for years. Now he’s diving in – near and far – and shares his adventures in this column.

The Palio di Siena is an insane horse race that’s been held since the Middle Ages and continues today. Here’s a view from inside the ropes.

BY PAUL PARTRIDGE GUEST WRITER

AREA - Ten wild-eyed stallions are sprinting straight at us. The rumble of their hooves and violent power of their strides augurs a frightening determination. Hours earlier these horses were blessed at church, and it looks like they may need it. There’s a hairpin turn ahead and surely there’s no way all can make it through without incident.

Welcome to the Palio

I’ve been lucky enough to attend the World Series, the U.S. Open, the Indianapolis 500, the America’s Cup, Army vs. Navy, and the Tall Ships parading down the Hudson during the Statue of Liberty’s Centennial celebration.

Nothing compares to the spectacle, the pageantry, and the pandemonium unleashed by a bareback horse race involving three death-defying laps around the Piazza del Campo in Siena Italy.

All that’s delightful and charming about Italy is on display – food, wine, art, architecture, fashion, passion, it’s all here – compressed into a single, unforgettable day.

Neighbor vs. Neighbor

Siena is divided into 17 neighborhood districts or wards called Contrade. Each contrada has its own colors and flag, and takes the name of a spirit animal or object. For example, Leone (lion), Lupa (she-wolf) and Drago (dragon).

The rivalry between neighborhoods is fierce. The greatest outcome is for your contrada to win. The second-best outcome is for your rival neighborhood to lose.

Some contrade have resorted to bribery to get their horses to perform better, while others have employed drugs. Jockeys have been kidnapped, seduced, and threatened. Heavy objects have been placed under saddles to slow down competing horses.

The preparations that take place leading up to race day are enormous. Think Halloween, Mardi Gras, and the Rose Bowl parade, rolled into one. The festivities culminate with the pre-race dinner.

My family is invited to dinner with the Aquila (eagle) contrada. The setting, in the shadow of the Duomo, is so spectacular I get goosebumps. It feels as if we’re dining at Hogwarts.

Up at the main dais, the jockey is serenaded by hymns, chants, children’s poems and vino-fortified toasts. Some vestal virgins may have been offered but I can’t be sure from my seat. Our jockey seems surprisingly subdued, as if hoping for the fete to end.

Perhaps he’s not confident in his steed because horses are not chosen; they’re assigned by lottery. Or maybe he’s recalling the unfortunate history of Aquila, as Eagle holds the record for fewest race victories. Or he could be contemplating the plight of previous riders –heroes turned goats following inglorious defeat. For a Palio jockey, adoration can turn to contempt – or worse – in under 90 seconds.

Race Day

For three days prior to race day, a watchman has been sleeping with Eagle’s stallion to guard against tampering. This morning he’s walked to the Duomo and blessed by the local priest.

Piazza del Campo starts to fill around 3 pm. The festivities officially begin when the Italian cavalry enter the square. Impressively, majestically, they parade in, salute the dignitaries, and then lead a series of charges, swords drawn. Half mesmerizing, half terrifying, it jolts the crowd to attention.

Next comes the parade, a two-hour feast for the eyes featuring archers, horsemen, flag wavers, drummers, trumpeters, noblemen (and women) – all dressed in Medieval and Renaissance era costumes. Every neighborhood is represented.

By 7 pm it’s race time. An entire Shakespearian play takes place in the leadup to the start. Nine horses are chosen randomly to enter the starting line. They take their position rather casually, Italian style. There are no gates; only a singular rope holds the ensemble (loosely) in place. It’s more like a moving scrum of unruly kindergarteners then a starting line.

The Puppet Master

The 10th horse, called the Rincorsa, stands alone, surveying the scene. He can enter when its jockey so decides. In this way he’s the puppet master, because the race begins only when the Rincorsa crosses the starting line.

The dance between the Rincorsa and the other horses is called the Mossa. There’s lots of banging and bumping and fidgeting. Jockeys are tense.

Horses twitch and snort. The crowd, 40,000 strong, crescendos into a fevered roar – shouting, gesturing, imploring, cursing (and that’s the women).

Then, a moment of calm, a second of quiet. All eyes turn to the Rincorsa.

Suddenly a horse rears, squealing and kicking. The other mounts scatter. Race organizers scramble to get the horses calmed and realigned. This happens several more times. Mossa can take two minutes or over an hour. Seven centuries of grudges and paybacks play out in the scrum activities.

Secret Backroom Deals

Heads of the contrade make secret backroom deals, so if their horse is the Rincorsa, they might be rewarded if they enter when their horse is in a good position, or their enemy is in a bad position. The jockeys also make deals, so you don’t know if they are trying to win or just block another rider. Perhaps this explains why the Sienese name for jockeys is assassini (assassins).

Without warning the Rincorsa bolts across the starting line and a cannon fires to signal the race is on. Our Aquila jockey hasn’t recovered from last night and is late off the line.

The racetrack is not a perfect oval. Walls jut out at crazy, dangerous angles, especially in Turn 2 where we’re sitting. The walls are padded to protect the horses, but that doesn’t prevent collisions.

Jockeys are sometimes separated from their mounts (remember, they’re riding bareback). A riderless horse is not disqualified. The first horse to cross the finish line – with or without a jockey – wins.

The lead changes constantly – and suddenly. Which fuels the excitement. And the delirium of the crowd. One minute your horse is at the back of the pack. Two breaths later, he’s charging to the lead.

Going into the final lap, it looks to be a two-horse race between Nicchio (Seashell) and Oca (Goose). Meanwhile the Eagle has landed, crashing in Turn 2 and never finishing the race.

The crowd is on its feet. It’s a photo finish. The winner is .

Goose! The Oca neighborhood faithful rush onto the racetrack, flags waving, tears of joy overflowing. They hug and kiss the jockey and hoist him onto their shoulders, singing songs of joy. The winning horse is marched into church and down the aisle for a blessing.