For Tito Traversa, forever in our hearts

Climbing as a means to escape rules imposed from above, to enter the anarchic father and son world that exudes freedom. Today the world outside that Ford pronounces judgement, takes sides, for or against that balance created within the car.

It's a lazy and cowardly world, unable to dirty their hands as that father did taking his child with him, to discover, investing as much time as possible. That time passed too quickly, has slipped away, leaving a father in the driver's seat with no one sitting next to him, looking out at the world.

So yes, anyone who has has passed judgement go home, wait for the weekend and fill it with
Formula One or Grand Prix motorcycle races. I remember Tito the child, playing on the swing and running after a ball. A child who, among other things, happened to be good at climbing. Today, I have endless and repetitive climbing images films that take on meaning only when I think that the only way to reach those holds was via that magical Ford.

A Ford that occasionally got a flat tyre, but that managed to dilate good times, that hinted towards a world worth discovering. Unfortunately, as always, it is others who classify who is a good father. Especially if the only judge now no longer occupies the passenger seat.

by Andrea Tosi

For Tito, forever in our hearts.


06/07/2013 - Goodbye Tito Traversa