Beams of golden sunlight broke through the Lombardo’s kitchen window and shone down on Mario’s face. He ignored it, attempting to sleep for just a little while longer. However, the same sunshine shone through the bedroom window where Aunt Frannie and Sofia slept.
Aunt Frannie rose from bed and turned on the light. When she checked the clock, she noticed it was seven in the morning.
“We’d better get going,” she stated.
“But it’s still early,” said Sofia.
“We still have lots of preparing before we go to Mount Vesuvius.”
Aunt Angela was the first to the bathroom. After she readied herself, she went to the kitchen and prepared a light breakfast. She baked croissants and brewed homemade hot chocolate with marshmallows.
“I love hot chocolate,” said Sofia.
“I’ll make myself some ice coffee,” said Signora Angelino as she stirred ice into her coffee cup. As the women enjoyed breakfast, Uncle Franco got dressed. When he was ready, he sat down at the kitchen table. The morning was almost half over.
"Papa, we're running late," said Aunt Angela.
“Where’s Mario?”
Aunt Angela went into the living room. Mario was curled on the couch.
“Mario, if you don’t get up right now, you’ll stay here while we visit Vesuvius.”
He remained motionless. Aunt Frannie got out of her chair and walked toward the couch.
“He’s a heavy sleeper,” said Angela.
“We’ll see about that,” said Aunt Frannie.”
She fished several ice cubes out of her coffee and dropped them into the neck of Mario’s pajamas. He jumped off the couch so fast everyone could’ve sworn he’d been stung by a bee.
"We’re waiting on you,” said Aunt Frannie, “now shower up so we don’t waste the whole day watching you sleep.”
Mario got ready quickly. His mother handed him a light snack as they rushed out the door. Finally they were on their way.
As they drove down the highway, Sofia saw Mount Vesuvius in the distance.
“It just looks like a plain old mountain to me,” she said, “Where’s the hot lava?"
"There isn’t any hot lava," said Aunt Angela, "Vesuvius is dormant."
"What does dormant mean?'
"Dormant volcanoes are sleeping.”
“Just like cousin Mario?”
“Something like that. Some volcanoes sleep for tens of thousands of years, which is a very long time, even for Mario.”
Mario ignored his Aunt as he finished his breakfast. Meanwhile, Uncle Franco pulled the car onto the side road. The sign said "Herculaneum".
"I thought we were going to Pompeii," said Sofia.
"We will later," replied Aunt Angela, 'but Pompeii wasn't the only place buried by Mount Vesuvius' ashes. Several cities, like Herculaneum were buried in the volcano’s ashes for over 1500 years."
Uncle Franco parked his car at the edge of the ruins. Mount Vesuvius sat in the distance, towering over Herculaneum. Sofia got out of the car. Her cousin Mario followed closely behind.
"Sofia, I want you look after Mario today." said Signora Angelino.
Mario took Sofia by the hand and she reluctantly accepted it. Sofia looked at the buildings. Many were fully intact. The stone-paved roads were neat and orderly.
"This city looks nothing like the ruins in Rome," stated Sofia.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"It looks like people lived here just yesterday."
"The ruins in Rome have been exposed to the weather. The volcanic ash that blanketed Herculaneum protected it from the elements."
"Were all the Italian cities built just like this?"
"Not just the Italian cities, but most of the cities surrounding the Mediterranean. Before the Roman Empire, there were the Greeks. They ruled the same areas as the Roman Empire for five centuries. The Greek Age is responsible for most of these innovations, with major contributions from the Romans. Many historians consider the achievements of the Greco-Roman empires as one great civilization."
“Can anyone tell the difference between the Greek and Roman achievements?” asked Mario.
Uncle Franco placed his hands upon a standing column and rubbed the smooth marble form which had been cut, chiseled, and polished two-thousand years earlier by ancient Roman craftsmen.
“Every piece of construction tells a lot about the building. Each column is constructed individually. Some columns have grooves like this one. Some have intricate capitals, decorating the top of each column like a well-fashioned cap.”
Uncle Franco pointed to the top of the column. A plain capital topped the column. “It’s built in the Corinthian style. Although you can’t tell when it was constructed, this column is a clue to its date of construction. So is the street where we walk.”
Uncle Franco put his head next to the ground and peered down the length of the street.
“Each stone is carefully put into place. The gentle slope allows rainwater to drain to the curb. Then, the water flows into the sewers. The streets form a grid, connecting people in the most efficient way possible. This is exactly how the Greeks constructed their cities hundreds of years before Herculaneum even existed.”
Uncle Franco led his relatives through Herculaneum for a while longer. Then, Aunt Frannie suggested everyone take a trip to Pompeii. They got into Uncle Franco’s car and went down the road to the more famous lost city. They headed directly to an exhibit in Pompeii’s old downtown. Plaster casts of the citizens of Pompeii struck different poses within their glass showcases
"When the volcanic ash buried these cities, it was as if time stopped. The lava flow captured people in their natural state the day Mount Vesuvius erupted."
"I thought lava was hot."
"Lava is hot, but not all volcanoes are the same. Most volcanoes in the Pacific Ocean have hot magma that flows down the side of the volcano. The crust atop some volcanoes, like Mount Vesuvius, forms a dome of earth. The earth traps the magma deep inside. Eventually, it builds up so much pressure that BOOM! It explodes with great force. Giant volcanic rocks called pumice shot into the sky."
Aunt Frannie stretched her hands to the sky in the shape of a vee. Her cheeks filled with hot air as she imitated a volcanic explosion.
"Then a great black cloud blocked the sunlight. The people of Herculaneum had never seen a volcano before. They were just trying to understand what was happening. Most just assumed the mountain gods were angry."
“These people look so scared,” said Mario.
“When the lava rocks rained down on the people, they ran for the safety of their homes or went to the beach to look for rescue boats. Mount Vesuvius erupted all through the night, raining down enough pumice stones to bury everything in the city.”
The tour guide approached Aunt Frannie and her family.
“It wasn’t until 1864 when an archeologist found holes filled with skeletal remains. He poured plaster of Paris into the holes and let it dry. Afterwards, he removed the surrounding debris. These casts are like a picture of the people on that day.”
The statues depicted men and women, children and pets, all in strange poses. Some covered their heads. Some knelt down to pray. Others simply gathered with their loved ones and waited for what may come.
“Why didn’t any of them just escape?”
“Some did,” said the tour guide, “Ships gathered people off the beaches for several hours. Rescue boats even came from Naples and Rome. Unfortunately, not all the boats arrived in time. The people were trapped on the beach with pumice stones raining down from the sky.”
Sofia looked up at Vesuvius again. She noticed farms along the mountainside.
‘How can there be farms on the sides of a volcano?”
“People have lived on the side of that volcano since the beginning of time,” said Uncle Franco, “Volcanoes are just like mountains, except they’re closer to the hot lava.”
“They’re not any closer, corrected Frannie as she held her hand flat.
“Imagine my hand as the earth’s crust. See the gaps between my fingers?”
Both children nodded.
“The earth’s core is under great pressure. When the earth’s crust pushes and pulls, it creates mountains. If the lava finds holes in the earth’s crust, it pushes upward, creating mountains and volcanoes.”
“I hope it doesn’t explode today,” said Sofia.
“I promise it won’t,” said Uncle Franco, “Mount Vesuvius is dormant.”
“I hope nobody wakes it up.”
“It is getting late,” said Uncle Franco, “maybe we should let the mountain get its rest.”
As they journeyed home, Uncle Franco and Aunt Frannie talked.
“You know, Uncle Luigi is only a short plane flight away,” suggested Uncle Franco.
“I know,” replied Frannie.
That night, as Sofia and her mother slept at Uncle Franco’s house, Sofia could only think of meeting Uncle Luigi. She wondered why she had never met him. She never knew why, either.
Those answers would hopefully come tomorrow.
.
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