After the brutal and now unfortunately known events of the "herd" of Castelliri well documented from "Striscia la Notizia", \u200b\u200bwhich testify to the presence of some strange man in the province of Frosinone, I thought of taking to the streets of Alatri my town, through the stories of some particular gentlemen who have supported my teenage years and not only mine, and that they like it or not there was always some way to do .... someone who is not and more that you can not remember.
As if those who do not act or special memories of these men did not live in his city. One way as another, or perhaps a way to tell a little bit special Alatri and its people at times hilarious. Then place that every city or town that has its "symbols" is well known, but is even more well known the fact that each is linked particularly to his characters a little folk, and that it considers "best" in the most playful one to understand than others. Some people, however, somehow manages not to fall into oblivion, not to be forgotten while spending a solitary, quiet, almost never social.
It is from here that I will start my story by a man who embodied in the middle of what can be called distinct social outcast, wanted to be alone more and more it is noticed. I speak of the Count Baby, born Umberto Del Bishop. Surely one of the most picturesque characters of our city in recent times. So many memories I have of him, his bearing erect, his clothes from another era, the glasses fell on a nose and an important step slow and lonely. And all his medals on his jacket?? But how many he had? So many! Difficult to determine when and where deserved. It was said of him that he was a nobleman, an aristocrat who covered prestigious roles in his life, including always resorted in the minds and stories of the guardian of Alatrensi Duomo di Siena. His staff who accompanied him on walks through the streets of my city was certainly the hallmark of our Baby Conte. Than you can say on that piece of wood. He even claimed that the notorious stick
had almost inestimable economic value. Same goes for the hypothetical well-preserved collection of art in his home. The stick, culture, and the air of one who was getting his business.
few ingredients to become part of the indelible memories of his countrymen. And of course the writer. He died at his home in the old town almost ninety. Its slow walks are still alive in the minds of his countrymen. A noble man, ever funny, but not for the less "spoiled" by most.
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