ABSTRACT
My friends who make their livings from survey research would not have approved. Our rambunctious interview did not conform to professional standards. During the spring of 1988, Pierine Piras, Philippe Videlier, and I sat drinking coffee and nibbling cake in the living room of a modest Mamaroneck, New York, house. Mamaroneck lies on Long Island Sound about twenty miles north of New York City. We were speaking with a man I’ll name Franco Bossi, born in Roccasecca, Italy, not far from Rome, ninety-two years earlier.
