The plane’s cabin is shaking like a can of paint in a mixer, and the thrum from the engines is going straight through me. It’s like they’re about to tear themselves free from their mounts.

His bust looks out onto the waters that ended his life. His stare is resolute in the face of a life cut tragically short.

Roughly halfway between the historic walled city of Lucca and the even more famous Pisa lies a small town whose towering limestone cliffs…

Never t assume that they were passive downtrodden victims, dominated by their rough canal-worker husbands.