Rosanna Benzi (1948–1991), the author of this book, was born in Morbello, near Alessandria. She spent her childhood there. Her formal schooling ended in middle school, but writer Luigi Santucci called her "a self-taught intellectual of the highest order."
Poliomyelitis forced her into an iron lung on March 21, 1962, at the S. Martino Hospital in Genoa. For the rest of her life, that condition never changed—except for brief outings in a wheelchair, made possible by a smaller device called a "testudine" or "corset."
Journalist Saverio Paffumi worked with Rosanna on her memoir, recording her account directly from inside the iron lung, capturing the story of her life in her own words.
What strikes you is the courage and strength of spirit with which she faced her grave handicap.
"I am convinced," she said, "that I have lived years worth living, and I would not trade them for any others."
She lived as though the tragedy did not exist—with determination and stubbornness, making no compromises.
Growing up in a provincial town with genuine values and no false pretenses gave Rosanna the ability to relate to her doctors as an equal. Her cultural needs were met too, through precious and fraternal friendships with sincere companions and figures from Genoa's cultural, artistic, and political worlds.
It was there, in the hospital ward—where she did not live in isolation but among other patients, in the constant, chaotic, and as cheerful as possible coming and going—that the idea took shape "of a social commitment that was also, in some way, an answer to the search for a role."
Her hospital room became a gathering place for young people who wanted to share their experiences and who remained bound to her by gratitude for the strength and courage with which she faced her fate, and for her exemplary model of joy in living despite everything—and of commitment, even political commitment, in defense of the rights of the handicapped to full development of their personalities.
It was through an exchange of letters with Pope John XXIII, who was ill and near death, that the press began to take notice of Rosanna Benzi. She offered her suffering in oblation for the Pope's health and for the Ecumenical Council; the Pope wrote back to thank her warmly and gave her his apostolic blessing. Journalists who expected to find pessimism and despair in Rosanna found instead a young woman who joked and laughed with them. They saw that she had plans, ideas, purposes. Then they published articles about the "Girl of Courage," who faced her misfortune with remarkable strength of spirit.
It was above all through the magazine "Gli Altri," which she edited, that Rosanna took a stand on the problems facing the handicapped. She pressed the political establishment—often indifferent or ineffectual in its response—for concrete answers, urgent measures, and better information. The magazine addressed questions like employment for people with handicaps, the possibility of a sexual life like all other human beings within a framework of harmonious personal development, and accommodations for transportation and accessibility in the city.
Asked what political and spiritual legacy she wished to leave behind, Rosanna expressed hope that the work she had begun would continue, and that someone might think, "If she did it, then it can be done." She was proud, satisfied, that she had not let herself be defeated. She had no regrets.
Finally, she hoped—and her hope was granted—that this would not be a sad book. "Joy is fundamental, so I hope this is not a sad book. People don't want to read sad books, and they're right."
- Pietro Ciampi, 1991