Bartali’s decision to
act was heroic not because he felt no fear but rather because he did not let
his fear prevent him from doing what he felt was ethically right.
Gino
Bartli is best known as a cycling legend who holds the record for the longest
time span between victories at the Tour de France –ten years– a feat made all
the more impressive by the Tour’s status as one of most grueling endurance
competitions in the world and the fact that Bartali was an old man (by cycling
standards) when he made his comeback in 1948. Looking beyond the marvel of his
athletic stamina, Bartali’s life provides a powerful lesson in how moral
endurance can empower from within.
Born in a
poor town near Florence in 1914, Bartali grew up in a world of grinding
poverty. Day laborers like his father earned the modern equivalent of about a
dollar an hour, and the average male life expectancy was forty years old, due
to diseases like malaria and pneumonia. With few career options, Bartali
dedicated himself to cycling: from sunrise to sunset, he rode around the Tuscan
hills and built up his physical endurance –his capacity to confront painful
fatigue and pedal through it. Bartali’s relentless training paid off, and he
made a meteoric rise in the cycling world, turning professional only a few
years after his first race.
Then
cycling took the one person dearest to him.
Bartali’s
younger brother Giulio, also a gifted cyclist, was killed in a racing accident.
This loss devastated Bartali, as he had encouraged Giulio to begin racing in
the first place, and led him to quit the sport. Bartali, a devout Christian,
turned to prayer as he wrestled with grief. When he finally made the difficult
decision to return, Bartali funneled his sorrow and guilt into a new motivation
to cycle: he would race to honor the memory of his brother.
With his
innate ability to tire out rivals, particularly in the mountains, Bartali
started winning races again. By his early twenties, his face had become a
mainstay of newspapers. Fans hounded him for autographs everywhere, and writers
penned long sonnets about him, hailing him as the king of cycling. In 1938, at
the age of twenty-four, he won the Tour de France, his triumph heralded as the
beginning of what was expected to be a long reign at the top of the most
popular summer sport in Europe.
And then
it all fell apart again.
Relations
between Italy and France deteriorated, and Bartali was barred from returning to
defend his title at the 1939 Tour. When war broke out in Europe, Bartali could
no longer compete in the lucrative calendar of foreign races and was
conscripted into military service, where he worked as a military bike messenger
in Tuscany and Umbria.
When the
German army took control of Italy in the fall of 1943 and Jews began to
experience the full terror of the Holocaust, Bartali was asked by a friend to
join a secret initiative to help save them. Few requests could have carried a
heavier burden. With the collapse of his career as a top cyclist and the
transformation of his beloved country into a nightmarish and dangerous place,
he feared for his wife and two-year-old son. It would have been easier –and
safer– not to get involved. But he chose differently.
Risking his
own life, he sheltered a local Jewish family in an apartment purchased with his
cycling winnings. He also began to smuggle counterfeit identity documents
around Tuscany and Umbria, enabling numerous Jews to conceal their true
identities and avoid deportation to a concentration camp.
Bartali’s
decision to act was heroic not because he felt no fear but rather because he
did not let his fear prevent him from doing what he felt was ethically right.
He demonstrated moral endurance, forged in a moment of danger that few of us
could ever hope to fully understand.
Bartali
returned to the Tour after the war and found that physical endurance alone
would not bring him success in an event where most of his competitors were now
ten years younger than him. It was his mental resilience that would power him
through snow, sleet, and rain, to win not only for himself but for all of his
Italian countrymen who still were reeling from the aftermath of WWII.
In the
end, even as Bartali reached the peak of his sport, he never lost sight of the
fact that it was his inner strength that carried him through the most difficult
moments of his life. As he would tell his son Andrea, “If you’re good at a
sport, they attach the medals to your shirts and then they shine in some
museum. That which is earned by doing good deeds is attached to the soul and
shines elsewhere.”
This essay
is based on the book Road to Valor: A True Story of WWII Italy,
the Nazis, and the Cyclist Who Inspired a Nation by
Aili McConnon and Andres McConnon.
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