Journalist Mario Calabresi, born in Milan in 1970, carried two memories from his earliest years into adulthood. One was a gentle, almost dreamlike recollection of a Sunday lying three days before a pivotal moment; the other was a memory as sharp and exact as a map, captured on the morning of a murder that would shape his career. In his memoir Coming Out of the Night, he describes how he kept these moments private for a long time, only revealing them at the moment he chose to write. The book stirred debate in Italy when it appeared, and its Spanish translation has yet to appear. These memories, quietly treasured, guided his curiosity about what happened next and helped forge his path as a writer and editor who later led major Italian newspapers.
On December 12, 1969, a bomb—seven kilos of trilites—detonated at the Banca Nazionale dellAgricoltura’s Milan branch in Piazza Fontana, killing 17 people and wounding 88. The brutal attack, attributed to neofascists and tied to secret services and a broader political strategy, marked a turning point in Italy. It ushered in a long period of upheaval that shaped national life and the rise of violent movements across the spectrum as groups fought for political aims with street protests and acts of terrorism. This era, described as the liberation strategy, spanned nearly two decades and left a lasting scar on the country’s institutions and public conscience.
Luigi Calabresi, then a commissioner in the department of political crimes, began engaging in political investigations during 1968 and soon found himself involved in the Fontana inquiry. In the years that followed, the arrest and questioning of many activists created a charged atmosphere. The death of the anarchist Giuseppe Pinelli, who fell from a fourth floor window during interrogation, intensified accusations against Calabresi in the leftist press and public discourse. The exact circumstances of the window’s breakage remained murky, fueling rumors and blame. Witnesses said Calabresi was not in his office when the fall occurred, yet the narrative persisted that he bore responsibility for Pinelli’s death.
That night, December 12, Pinelli himself arrived at the office on a motorcycle and was held for several days along with other activists, nearly without food or sleep. The tragedy fed a climate in which Calabresi faced relentless accusations and hostility, and in which many believed he was implicated in the murder. He eventually faced a violent end years later, shot in the back and killed in May 1972. The atmosphere of fear and misapprehension surrounding him persisted as a stark reminder of a era when headlines and rumors outran the truth.
In a later phase of his work, a detailed examination of those events fed many legal proceedings. The investigation into the Fontana bombing and the assassination of Pinelli led to charges against several former colleagues and associates, with varying outcomes. The proceedings produced a range of outcomes—from pardons to house arrest to eventual releases—reflecting the complexities of a period marked by political violence and contested narratives. It remains a matter of historical record that those 1970s acts of terrorism drew supporters and opponents into a web of conflicting testimonies and strategic prosecutions, with some arguing for innocent explanations and others insisting on accountability for those involved in the campaigns against public figures and institutions. The accumulated court records, spanning tens of thousands of pages, present a story of contestation where guilt and innocence were debated amid political rancor and a drive to assign blame for the Fontana incident.
When Mario Calabresi shared two childhood memories with his mother as a teenager, he found them faded and worn, like old celluloid from movies watched too many times. He chose to return them to the archive to preserve them more faithfully. In this somber yet luminous book about pain and the scars borne by victims, those memories stand as a candle in the night, casting a light at a moment when those who carried out violence sought to minimize the impact of their actions. The narrative treats memory, loss, and the enduring consequences of a turbulent era with sensitivity and clarity. memoir and related historical analyses.
In sum, the work surveys a turbulent chapter in Italian history, tracing how memory, rumor, and law intersect at a time when a nation confronted a cascade of violence, investigations, and public reckonings. It presents a portrait of a country wrestling with the ethics of accountability, the pressure of public opinion, and the stubborn truth that often lags behind the loudest voices. The result is a testament to the endurance of memory and the role of journalism in shaping the understanding of past crimes and their long shadow on a society’s present and future. analyses of Fontana and related cases.