1999
The Lonely Baroness
by Jeni Rizio
I spent one month of the last summer of the twentieth century in a small town in southern Italy. I was one of about 25 American students who stayed in the hotel atop of this mountain town. We were all part of a study abroad program and we all had our classes on the porch of the hotel.

During our stay, I got to know quite a few of the native Italians. There was this one woman who hung around the hotel quite a bit, always clothed in the same blue sundress, who I'll never forget. I got to know her over the course of my stay, telling her about where I was from in the US and where my Italian ancestors were from. She even bought me a birthday gift. She did not know a word of English, so we always spoke in the little bit of Italian I knew.

One day I asked one of the hotel staff workers who she was. He told me she was the Baronessa. Not quite understanding what he meant by "Baronessa," I asked him to clarify. My instructor was standing nearby, who informed me that she was the baroness, the royal leader of the town. Later on, I asked my instructor why the Baroness wore the same dress all the time and hung around the hotel all day. "Isn't she rich or something?" I asked him.

He told me that her husband was killed some time back, probably by the mob, who took almost everything they had. She just hung around the hotel all day and made friends with the guests because she did not have much else to do. Her and I became friends and exchanged many stories. I left Italy that summer, but I never did forget the Baronessa.