May is a month rich in events, reflections, and remembrance.
Traditionally dedicated to Mary, the Mother of God, it is also known as the month of roses and the fragrance of spring flowers. It brings with it longer days, as the hours of light begin to outnumber those of darkness. In Sicily, and especially in Palermo, May is also the month devoted to the “Saint of the Impossible,” Saint Rita of Cascia – deeply beloved and widely invoked. Expectant mothers often turn to her for protection during pregnancy and childbirth, praying for the gift of a healthy child.
With such associations, May could easily seem like the most beautiful and serene month of the year.
And yet, this month also carries the weight of difficult anniversaries. It marks forty-seven years – it was 1978 – since the murder of Aldo Moro by the Red Brigades. The Christian Democrat leader had been kidnapped and held for fifty-five days, during which negotiations for his release came to nothing. On May 9, his lifeless body was discovered, following an anonymous phone tip, in the trunk of a red Renault 4 parked on Via Michelangelo Caetani, in the heart of Rome.
Among the first on the scene was Carmelo Pecora, a young cadet with the Public Security force from Enna, who had been called to Rome from Sicily just for that day. It was the patrol car he was traveling in that escorted the ambulance carrying Moro’s body to the Institute of Forensic Medicine.
As he made his way to Rome, Pecora heard on the radio of another killing — this time in his own region. Giuseppe Impastato, known to all as Peppino, had been murdered by the mafia. Though born into a family with strong mafia ties, he had refused any association with that world. Instead, together with a group of friends, he founded Radio Out, from which he openly and relentlessly denounced the local boss, Gaetano Badalamenti, whom he mockingly nicknamed “Tano Seduto” –“Sitting Tano,” a twist on Sitting Bull.
Badalamenti ordered his assassination, staging it to appear as a suicide: Peppino’s body was left on the railway tracks of the Palermo-Trapani line. It would take until 2001 for a criminal court to formally identify the man who carried out the murder — though the killing had already been recognized as a mafia hit back in 1984, following investigations led by magistrate Rocco Chinnici. Chinnici himself would later be killed by the same criminal organization, when a car bomb exploded outside his home.
Vito Palazzolo, the man who executed Impastato, was sentenced to thirty years in prison. Nearly a quarter-century after the murder, in 2002, Gaetano Badalamenti was finally convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
But May is not marked only by sorrow or tragic events. Among the many happenings that take place in Palermo during this month, one of the most beloved – as in years past – is the historic Targa Florio, now in its 109th edition. It is the oldest open-road car race in the world, a legendary competition that brought lasting fame to many great drivers, from Tazio Nuvolari to Enzo Ferrari, and Palermo’s own Nino Vaccarella, to name just a few of the most iconic. Once again this year, beginning on May 8, competitors paraded and raced through Palermo and along the classic circuit route, chasing victory in what remains the most coveted race among motorsport enthusiasts.
And in honor of those who made racing their life’s passion, we remember a Sicilian driver from Alia, in the province of Palermo, who divided his life between his hometown and Los Angeles. There, fans, journalists, and fellow drivers knew him simply as “Dio” – God – because his real surname, Dioguardi, proved too difficult to pronounce or remember. Ten years ago, on May 11, 2015, Nick Dioguardi, known to all as Dio, left behind the racetracks he loved, his vintage cars – he was a devoted collector – and the winding mountain roads that lead from Palermo to Alia. The roar of his Lotus still echoes in memory, along with one lingering regret: never having had the chance to compete in the classic Targa Florio, taking part only in a special historical edition.

Leaving the world of racing behind – though still in the realm of awards and honors – we also note that on May 7, the David di Donatello Awards were held at Cinecittà in Rome, in Studio 5, once the most beloved working space of Federico Fellini. This year marked the 70th edition of the awards. Giuseppe “Peppuccio” Tornatore, the Sicilian director from Bagheria, in the province of Palermo, and Oscar winner for Best Foreign Film in 1990, received the inaugural Special David, a newly created honor, of which he is the first recipient. For Italian cinema, the David di Donatello is a highly prestigious accolade, widely seen as our own version of the Academy Awards, and Cinecittà, in many ways, remains our Hollywood.
Remaining in the arts – this time the theatre – we also mark the passing, on May 2, at the age of 85, of Alessandro Quasimodo, actor and son of Nobel laureate Salvatore Quasimodo, the Sicilian poet from Modica whose verses, and outstanding translations of the Greek lyricists, left a profound mark on Italian literature.
And finally, this 2025 has brought a momentous loss for the Catholic world: the death of Pope Francis. He passed away on April 21, and by May 8 – fittingly, a day dedicated to the Virgin Mary – the throne of Saint Peter had already found a new occupant: Robert Francis Prevost, American by birth but with both French and Italian roots. He has chosen to assume the papal name Leo XIV. A learned pontiff, he speaks seven languages, including fluent Latin.
On that same day – May 8, though in 2006 – he visited Palermo. Later, on September 1, 2024, he travelled to Syracuse to pray and pay homage to the Madonna delle Lacrime. It was the seventy-first anniversary of the weeping of the Virgin, and he had been invited to preside over the final day of the celebrations by Archbishop Monsignor Francesco Lomanto.
Exactly nineteen years earlier, on the same date as his election to the papacy, Leo XIV had visited the Augustinian community as prior, meeting with parishioners of the Church of Santa Maria La Reale, at the Rocca di Mezzomonreale. Many faithful remember that day with deep emotion and joy, and some even interpret this coincidence as a kind of sign, a divine foreshadowing of things to come.
He also visited the Mission of Hope and Charity, founded by Biagio Conte, where he sat and shared a meal with the guests, once again offering his presence and solidarity to those in need. It was another act that quietly foreshadowed the spirit of the apostolic mission he now carries forward, one that the global Christian community will witness from this day on.