I do not believe in commercial celebrations of love and friendship. Lovers and friends celebrate their relationships every day, by remembering who they are and how important we actually are one to the other. On the contrary, I want to remember a very sad episode in the history of immigration to the United States. On 14 February 1929 in the garage of the SMC Cartage Company on 2122 North Clark Street in Chicago (now the parking lot of a retirement home), the Italian gang of Al Capone was responsible for the killing of seven members of the Irish gang of Bugs Moran.
The killing was a power display in partial retaliation of the Irish gang's attacks to the lives of some of Al Capone's partners in crime. What was at stake was the power over the city, since the Italians were in control of the south side, and were trying to seize the north side, still under Irish control. Nothing more. No "clash of civilizations" (see, Dr. Huntington?), no ethnic or cultural difference of any relevance (food, perhaps; but it usually brings people together, much more than it would ever divide them). Only the absurd fetish of power and violence.
Exactly by remembering the absurdity of a killing, I want to celebrate Valentine's Day as the day of appreciation of our neighbors. We have the right to demand respect inasmuch as we are ready to respect others, and we can love others only inasmuch as we have enough self-respect to ask to be truly loved; so that what happened in Chicago eighty-four years ago shall never happen again. A day of love needs to be a day of memory; because only through memory we can finally get to that deep, true love that is needed in the world nowadays
