A Christmas and New Year under the tents of the earthquake
Source: NEOS KOSMOS
Christmas was approaching. But nothing seemed Christmassy.
There were no gifts, no Christmas decorations, no holiday shopping.
The church bells did not ring as they used to and the children’s voices had almost fallen silent.
Everything had been buried under the rubble left behind by the 1953 earthquake. Buried too were the dreams of everyone who had not yet recovered from World War II and the fratricidal civil war.
The hope in the souls of those affected by the earthquake for something better was flickering. It was being hammered by the winds of disaster, pain, and despair.
And yet life had to go on. The struggle for survival was hard but it had to be fought.
Four months had passed since Enceladus had spread destruction and death in Kefalonia, Zakynthos, Ithaca… And every time the festive season approaches, the images and what I experienced as a little child come to mind. It is the era that marked me like few others.
I remember we lived in a tent in Agios Thanasis, the hill on which Argostoli was “perched”.
Countless other tents had been set up in the surrounding fields.
The living conditions inside the tents are more than tragic.
The cold was bone-chilling and the rain muddy everything. There were many times when we had to hold umbrellas inside the tent, those of us who had umbrellas of course.
Difficult days but even more difficult nights.
A few days before Christmas, there was an incredible storm. It rained non-stop all night and the strong wind almost tore the tent apart. My father, my grandfather, my uncle, along with the women of the family, held the tent together with their teeth and hands so that the wind wouldn’t blow it away. Eventually they managed, but other families weren’t so “lucky”. The tent next door to us had been destroyed. So until new ones arrived, we offered hospitality to the neighbours.
Tragic hours.
We ate from canned food that was initially dropped by Air Force aircraft and later distributed by the Army from trucks.
For us children, the low-flying transport planes and then the military trucks offered moments of joy. Their presence was something special, it fired our imagination. Most of us boys wanted to become… pilots!
Life also played a game for me. A member of the crew of one of the transport aircraft became, 17 years later, my first employer in Australia!
So the days passed in these miserable conditions.
Christmas passed, New Year passed, and the new year arrived, which wasn’t much different from the previous one!
The incredible hardships forced many earthquake victims to emigrate.
I ended up in Athens at 103 Lenorman Street, near my grandmother, and there I went to the first grade of elementary school.
The years that have passed since then have not been able to erase, nor even fade, the memories of that painful post-earthquake period. They are memories that one takes with them when they cross to the other side.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS.
George Messaris
You can send any of your comments to the media outlet hosting the article or to my email address and I will forward it: georgemessaris@gmail.com
The latest DOCUMENTARY productions by George Messaris: 1. “Marinos Harbouris” – The turbulent life of the demonic Kefalonian engineer. In Greek with English or Russian subtitles. Available on “Memory Stick”. 2: “Shadows of Yesterday” – A journey through the abandoned villages of Kefalonia and Ithaca. In Greek with English subtitles. Available on “Memory Stick”. 3: KEFALONIA AND ITHACIA – FLOWERS OF THE SEA. Available on DVD in four languages. To obtain them, contact him at georgemessaris@gmail.com
The original article: belongs to NEOS KOSMOS .
