Farewell to Franco Tentorio, the Mayor Who Defined an Era in Bergamo

Bergamo woke to news that brought everything to a standstill. Franco Tentorio, the man who guided our city from the late Nineties through to the dawn of the new millennium, has left us at the age of 81. This isn’t just the passing of a former mayor; it’s a chapter closing on a piece of Bergamo’s recent history. I’d often see him around, followed his political battles, and today, like so many others, I feel the need to pause for a moment and remember.

It was 1995 when Franco Tentorio won the elections. For those of us from Bergamo, used to a certain continuity in local government, his arrival brought a breath of fresh air. I remember him talking to people at the market, straight-talking, with a bluntness that perhaps has been lacking in politics recently. He wasn’t one for lofty speeches; he faced things head-on, and anyone who knew him knows that beneath that resolute manner was a passion for this city that went far beyond simply holding office.

He held the reins at the town hall for two terms, until 2004. They were complex years: Italy was changing, the province was carving out a new space for itself after the end of the First Republic, and Bergamo had to grapple with urban expansion that demanded a clear vision. He wasn’t an easy mayor, and perhaps that’s precisely why he was loved. His legacy is made up of tangible things, the kind you can still see today when you walk around the city.

The man behind the mayoral sash

To speak of Franco Tentorio without mentioning his visceral bond with Bergamo would be impossible. Born in ’45, a child of a different era, he grew up breathing the post-war reconstruction and later the spirit of renewal of the Seventies. When he took his seat as mayor, he knew every decision would be under the microscope. And he never looked away.

His strength was his ability to listen, even to those who disagreed with him. In an age before social media, politics was conducted in party branches, in local clubs, but above all on the streets. And he was a master of that game. Even his political opponents remember him today with respect, because he knew how to keep a fierce debate separate from personal regard. It’s a lesson that perhaps we need now more than ever.

The places and memories of a whole community

If I had to pick a symbol of his work, a plaque or a ribbon-cutting ceremony wouldn’t spring to mind. Instead, it would be the way he interpreted the role itself. During his time in office, Bergamo saw important projects take shape. He used to say that a city isn’t built just with construction sites, but with people. And maybe he was right. Just think of how he managed dialogue with the businesses in our area – a fundamental pillar for a city that never forgets it’s also a crucible of ideas and enterprise.

In recent years, after leaving active politics, it wasn’t unusual to spot him in the centre. A coffee at a café, a chat with old friends. He’d lost none of that ‘practical intellectual’ quality, able to talk about anything with the same enthusiasm. His passing, which happened yesterday, leaves a void that goes beyond politics.

For many, it’s as if a cornerstone has gone. We don’t easily forget those who, like him, built the city we live in. Because the memory of a good public servant isn’t measured only in figures or council terms, but in the memories left behind in our squares, our streets, in everyday life.

• 1995-1999: First term as mayor, marked by a direct and innovative approach for its time.
• 1999-2004: Re-elected to lead the city, tackling the challenges of the new millennium with the same determination.
• A life for Bergamo: Born in 1945, he lived through decades of change, always remaining a steadfast figure for the community.

Today, Bergamo mourns Franco Tentorio. The national political spotlight won’t be on, but here, in Via XX Settembre, in Piazza Vecchia, under the arcades, his absence is deeply felt. Because when a man has given so much of himself in service to his homeland, the gratitude of the people is the only monument that matters. And that’s what we’re paying him today, with the silence and respect that true men deserve.