You can see the sea from those windows. A canvas of deep blue faces the old, now dilapidated building that has welcomed young children ever since the Stabiano Boys’ Orphanage was founded on March 19, 1919.

Once upon a time, there was a place dedicated to the less fortunate. Here, war orphans and civilian children found the shelter and care needed to overcome harsh and difficult childhoods. It allowed sorrowful lives to take a different, new direction, dispelling the grim myth of an inevitably marked path. And the sea—the blue sea and its waves—cradled these little ones and their dreams.

A Century of History: From 1919 to the Summer Camp
Amid the mounds of stones and piled rubble, one can almost hear the bustle of an ordinary day shared by children and educators. Right beside it, the Basilica of the Madonna di Pozzano stands guard over the pure souls of these innocent little ones.

In 1946, through an initiative by the State Railways (Ferrovie dello Stato) employee social security organization, the facility began housing the orphans of railway workers. Given its magnificent location, the building was also long utilized as a Summer Camp.

Amid Rubble and Memories: The Photographic Reportage
Image after image, I capture ghostly atmospheres that come alive in the mind, giving way to reconstructions of memory. I piece together recollections that do not belong to me and the ruins gathered within the interiors of this structure—which, like an old dinosaur, rests curled up, waiting to awaken from its ancient torpor.

I gather my thoughts and picture orderly lines of children, fluttering smocks, and the sea breeze. And still, the sea. The blue sea protecting this precious heritage: the future.

The Voice of the Ruins and the Power of Memory
What were once mighty staircases and pillars have today crumbled under the weight of neglect. Memories crowd together and dance vibrantly in this corner of Campania. Smiles and silvery laughter—a past rich with lives that trigger an emotional connection, loudly demanding not to be erased.

The walls turn to dust, but not the strength of the voices echoing from those years. And the sea, blue. To this day, it still cradles the sorrows of the soul—those of a photographer in search of stories never to be forgotten.