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Among the photographs by Saro Armone, the historic photographer of Vara, hanging on the walls of the house there is one that is particularly striking: an elderly man is kneeling in Piazza Duomo at the foot of Vara, in his right hand he holds the stick that supports him, his left hand – that of his heart – is leaning on the hawsers curled up at the base. That image contains the sense of a procession, which for the people of the Strait is faith and devotion, a sense of belonging, the ability to entrust themselves to Mary, bringing with them joys, sorrows, expectations and hopes. Saverio, shooter and son of the unforgettable photographer who for over 60 years immortalized the tradition of August 15th in his shots, wanted to open the doors of the heart, sharing the moving and nostalgic story of an eternal love story.
«In every shot dad stopped the faces, the hands, the looks, the effort of the men and the prayer of the women. In his photos the memory of a different Messina remained, made up of gestures that have almost disappeared today”, he explains. «As a child I accompanied my father and grandmother Maria, on the morning of the 15th, to the first mass under the Cippo della Vara, after it was unveiled». His story as a shooter begins when his mother falls ill: a relative who is already a shooter shows him the way and takes him with her; he was wearing shorts and a white t-shirt. That same year, 1982, Saverio, who today holds the position of president, joined Unitalsi: «a similarity, he says with a voice broken by tears, the same faith, the same devotion to Mary, alongside the sick as on the street among the ropes». 44 years have passed and he has never stopped renewing “that deed of trust”. Even in 2009, the year in which father Saro died just 12 days before the celebration, he did not want to shy away from that ritual which took on an even stronger meaning.
Tomorrow punctually as always at 5pm, Saverio will leave the house in his uniform barefoot, together with one of the friends with whom he shares the procession, Antonio Vadalà. They will recite the Rosary and then reach Piazza Castronovo where it will be an explosion of emotions. For him the most significant moments of the procession are: the departure; the turn between via Garibaldi and via Primo Settembre and the arrival at Piazza Duomo. «The faithful welcomed the Assumption on their knees, entrusting, asking and giving thanks – he says – once upon a time there was no cutting of the ropes, which, rolled up on themselves, preserved the sweat and fatigue of the journey. No smartphone in his hands, everything was immortalized with his eyes and his heart. For him, being a shooter is «a privilege and at the same time a responsibility: with every shot I think of my loved ones who are no longer here, of the sick who in Unitalsi we care for with great love. This year my thoughts will also go to the victims of Pistunina, to the young Giulia and to the other victims of a city that in recent months has been tormented by mourning and pain, but which will never stop hoping.”
Franco Forami’s story
For Franco Forami, a native of Messina, the soul of the organization and management of the maneuvers of the traditional procession, the wait does not begin on August 1st and does not end when, at the end of the procession, the ropes are put away. Its history with the great votive machine of Messina is a continuous thread that spans more than half a century of life. «I’ve been waiting for Vara for 365 days», he says. A simple phrase, but capable of describing a bond that goes far beyond devotion or tradition. For Franco it is a presence that accompanies time, a part of one’s identity, something that belongs to the memory of the family and the history of the city. His story is over half a century long: it all begins in 1971, when he was just fifteen years old. His father Antonino and his grandmother Maria brought him towards that great reality. At the beginning Franco is a shooter. Then, over the years, comes experience and knowledge: he learns the movements, the ropes, the bindings, the mechanisms that allow the structure to move. He becomes a rower and ends up knowing every detail of that machine which, for generations of Messina residents, represents one of the strongest identity symbols. Franco becomes a raging river when he opens the box of memories sharing unimaginable aspects: «As a boy I arrived before the workers», a small sheet metal shack was placed behind the structure, used as a warehouse and he would sit there in the evening and watch them work with the curiosity of someone who wants to understand. This is how he discovers that August 15th is not born on the same day as the procession, there are preparations: the assembly of the bell on which the various angelic figures are held, the ropes that are tied and checked. There is a silent time that precedes that of the crowd and voices, a time in which tradition takes shape. Franco knows that time well: «the machine that is being used today is not the one from 1926, which has now remained only in photographic memory; many parts have been rebuilt, others replaced.” When asked what the Vara represents for him, the answer is clear: «For me, the Vara is my life», he whispers with shining eyes, explaining that «it is not a show to witness, but an event to know, experience, cherish». It is a memory built over the years that today he feels the need to pass on to those who come after him. His thoughts go to his grandson who should be born in Rome in the next few days, he has already prepared a model to give him but naturally his desire is “to pass on to the little one the same passion and curiosity for a tradition that is the very essence of Messina”.