Happy end (Part one)

This is the happy end story of Francesc, Pilar, Luciano and Daniella. (Part one)

Here is another story about colleagues that fortunately end up nicely. Let me tell you right away. This is a happy end story. And most of it is real and true. For privacy respect names of the main characters have been changed as well as some other details for the same reason.

The story began in 1974. At that time my brother Francesc worked as freelance. He was a draftsman and he had very good skills in other arts related fields like painting and modelling. Most of his work was to make projects on the scenery involved in large housing developments.

Just by accident, he had a new work opportunity and he became part of a huge project. Catalana de Gas was merging with an Italian gas company which was rather back in technology and social awareness. They planned to build near Milano brand new premises which should include an industrial plant, head office buildings and a sports and recreational area for their employees and visitors. However there was a big issue about that plan. The company had already acquired the land for the project but it was right in a huge agricultural region with no precedent of industrial plants.

The company organized a team of specialists in order to make a project that would please all stakeholders (writers note: don’t mistake with ‘stockholders’) and eventually obtain the authorities approval. Here came in to play Francesc. It was felt that how it would look the gas complex would be essential in being accepted or rejected. And therefore the company hired Francesc to do this part of the project. It was expected from him to lead the project on what was called ‘respectful & scenery environmental plant’. This concept turned out quickly as RSEP, as it would be expected from any trying-to-be multinational company.

Once explained the frame of this story we move on my brother Francesc. In 1974, by early winter he was about to fly to Italy for the first time. He agreed with his managers that he was going to be in the place of construction one week out of two during a year roughly. The lands were close to the little town Moscazzano (Mzzo) which is some 50 kilometers south from Milano. One Monday Francesc took the plane in Barcelona and he asked himself who would be at Milano’s airport to pick him to the nearest hotel in Mzzo.

(To be continued)