By Claudia E. Guzmán
Well before the feminist movement liberated women from the confines of the private sphere, Clio Lumbrici burst out of them on her own. Born in Cagli in 1918, this tiny, bold woman might be considered a pioneer of women’s rights, although she is too modest to admit it. Recounting the stories of her life on a warm, summer evening from her second floor terrace, she thinks of her life as “normal” and “boring.” However, the decisions she made and the goals that she pursued were practically unheard of for a woman of her generation.
Clio Lumbrici's pharmacy degree. Photos by Jackie BlackburnLumbrici’s badante, or caretaker, Carla Paradisi, affectionately calls her a “rebellious heroine.” During a time when most women were resigned to the traditional duties of housekeeping and childrearing, Lumbrici pursued higher education, earning a degree in pharmacy in 1941. Her diploma, now dry, wrinkled, and browned with age, looks more like an important historical decree, bearing the seal of King Victor Emmanuel III, but it hangs inconspicuously in a corner of the living room.
After completing her studies, Lumbrici began working as a pharmacist in nearby Acqualagna, riding her bike nearly 5 miles each way. When World War II brought American troops to Cagli in 1944, she met the man who would become the love of her life, an unranked soldier named Thomas Anderson, known by the locals as “Andy.”
Once Anderson’s tour of duty ended, the couple married in Cagli’s 13th century basilica in February 1947. Five months later, Anderson was in a tragic car accident that permanently damaged his legs. He was in and out of several hospitals in nearby towns until October, when the couple traveled to the United States on a military aircraft so that he could seek rehabilitative surgery. Lumbrici was eight months pregnant.
Clio Lumbrici and Thomas Anderson during their courtship. According to local journalist, Mario Carnali, this cross-cultural relationship was quite extraordinary for the time. Back then, America was a place that people had only heard about; in the pre-globalized world, it was seen as a sort of unattainable fantasyland. For an Italian woman to leave her country and embrace the unknown was considered a brave and uncommon act. Furthermore, education was a significant indicator of social class in Italian society. Because Lumbrici was an educated woman, marrying an American soldier was seen as beneath her. However, her love for her husband was strong enough for her to disregard the expectations of her own community.
Because Anderson was physically vulnerable and in need of close attention, the couple had to separate once they arrived in the United States. Lumbrici went to Texas to live with her husband’s family while he went to an army hospital in New York. Within a month, their only child was born, Victor Albert, affectionately known as “Subi,” which is short for subito, the Italian expression for “right away.”
Soon after their son’s birth, the couple reunited and lived briefly in San Antonio before settling in Newark, New Jersey, to find work. Lumbrici’s pharmacy degree was not accepted in the United States, so she took a job working in a light bulb factory while she cared for her husband and child. Although Anderson earned a pension from the army and found odd jobs working as a handyman, Lumbrici served as the primary provider for the family. Meanwhile, her husband became the homemaker.
Despite this reversal of traditional gender roles, Lumbrici still says of her late husband, “He was better than I. He could do everything: the banking, the cooking; he could even repair shoes.” Suddenly, her face crumples and she begins to cry silently. Moments later, she is brimming with more stories, spoken in a mixture of English and Italian.
The Andersons were able to visit Italy several times during this period: in 1949, 1955, and 1962. Carnali recalls the joy that the family brought to the children of Cagli, especially through Victor’s American toys, including a toy gun, an electric train, and a confetti-making machine. “To us, it was amazing. These were things we’d seen only in movies,” Carnali recounts with a smile. Anderson also brought an air of glamour to the town after playing a small role in the film, The Valachi Papers, with the famous Hollywood actor Charles Bronson. The family was seen as the embodiment of the American dream.
In 1963, the Andersons returned to Italy for good. Lumbrici found work in a pharmacy in Rome, and Anderson continued to take care of the home. Over time, his legs continued to deteriorate, taking him from a cane to crutches, and finally to a motorized wheelchair. However, this did not prevent the couple from maintaining an active social life in Cagli. They were often seen on weekends at the piazza, reading the newspaper, enjoying a drink, and chatting with friends at the Caffé del Commercio.
Victor Anderson went back to the United States in 1973 and started a family of his own in Colorado. Today, photos of Lumbrici’s American descendants are clustered on a bulletin board and serve as the centerpiece of her ornate living room. In the middle of the otherwise colorful collage is a 65-year-old, wallet-size, black-and-white photo of her and her husband during their courtship. On a desk beneath the bulletin board, a digital picture frame rotates through nearly 400 images, a gift from their son.
Lumbrici worked full time as a pharmacist until 1996, when she had a heart attack at age 78. After that, she insisted on going back to work, but her boss only allowed her to work part time. Until last year, she still managed to maintain her job and take care of her disabled husband.
Video by Kristin Parker
On July 29th, 2008, Anderson died of lung cancer, nine days after Lumbrici’s 90th birthday. She lived alone for one month before she fell and broke her femur. After that, her son insisted that she either hire a badante or move into a retirement home. She fought both options, but finally agreed to enlist Paradisi’s help, since she had previously served as the badante of Lumbrici’s sister-in-law for nine years.
Paradisi’s longstanding relationship with the Lumbrici family allows her to help keep Lumbrici’s mind engaged and her memory fresh. They spend afternoons on the terrace, identifying the passersby and recounting facts about their lives. “And who is she? And what are her children’s names?” Paradisi prods gently. Although her son would prefer that Lumbrici move to the United States, Paradisi argues that Lumbrici needs a regular daily routine and the presence of familiar things, since her mind is slowly but surely fading.
As the anniversary of her husband’s death approaches, Lumbrici is anxious to reconnect with old friends. Still vivacious and energetic, she wants to go to Rome to see the family that owned the pharmacy where she worked for so much of her adult life. “I like Rome,” she says. “People think I’m crazy. It’s too confusing; [there are] too many people. But I like it there.” If it were not for the physical limitations brought on by old age, there’s no telling what adventure Lumbrici would embark upon next.
Photos by Jackie Blackburn
Web production by Claudia Guzman
