Many of you undoubtedly read the story of Fiumicino's "Clock Fight" in TIME'S Foreign News section in last week's (Sept. 1) issue. I think it was a first-rate example of the kind of detailed, human, revealing reporting that TIME tries for. There in miniature at Fiumicino, in a controversy over who should get credit for repairing the town's war-stopped clock, was, as TIME said, "the bitter struggle that rends all Italy"--a contest between Marxists and non-Marxists for sole credit for every act that benefits the people.

Thinking you might like to know how we managed to get the story, I asked William Rospigliosi, of TIME'S Rome bureau, for an account of his work on it. This is his

"The Fiumicino story came to my knowledge quite by chance. It was the Aug. 15 Feast of Assumption of Our Lady --an occasion when Rome literally empties itself. A friend, a glass cutter who has a studio near by, and who, like me, owns a motorcycle, proposed that as the roads were empty it would be a good day for a race. We settled on Fiumicino, 18 miles away.

"After lunch there, as we passed the harbor, we saw all the ships gaily hung with bunting. We inquired what was happening and were told that there would be a procession out to sea; so we got into a vessel and went along. As we returned, we saw the people on the piers first jeering, then cheering, and the fishermen broke into a song to the Madonna. I asked a fisherman, 'What's going on now?' and he explained that Fiumicino's new clock had just been inaugurated and that they had had 'a terrible time with the leftists.'

"Interested, I inquired where the mayor was. He turned out to be stone deaf; so I sought out the municipal secretary. He offered to show me the minutes of the town council meetings where the controversy started, and we went to his house. He gave me a rough description of the town councilors, and we laboriously went through the minutes. It was dawn when we finally parted to our respective beds. After a couple of hours' sleep I went straight to Mass to have a look at the priest in the case.

"Later, I went up to the waterfront to look for Rocchi (the anticlerical artisan who repaired the clock). I didn't want to arouse suspicion by asking, so I had some difficulty in locating his shop. Finally, on the fourth approach, there was Rocchi, working away. Near him was a thin man who I thought from the description I had might be one of the councilors, and then I overheard a conversation which was music to my ears. Said Rocchi: 'I wasn't going to do it for a priest. You should have heard him.' And here he mimicked the priest.

"Luck was on my side, for at that moment up came a man whom I recognized as Barbi, the local Communist leader. He also joined in the conversation. Then, seeing me standing near there, he eyed me suspiciously. I stood there with a blank look, and then after a few moments glanced at my watch as if expecting someone. I muttered a few English cuss words such as all Italians have learned. They took it for granted I couldn't understand Italian and continued their talk. Barbi said: 'The way Councilor Gallo went on about red being blood's color. Such nonsense! He knows nothing else to say. But black is the fascist color and I told him so at the meeting.' What Barbi said was true; I had seen it in the minutes.

"Then they all congratulated Rocchi, who modestly said: 'The wonderful thing is that this morning it was only half a minute late--you know, it's the first few days.' Then they dispersed.

"I came back a little later to see if I could pick up anything else. Rocchi was talking to someone else about the clock's face, which he said had been supplied free by a nearby glass factory. But I already knew that from the minutes; so I decided there was not much more for me. I returned to Rome with an appointment to meet the secretary again two nights hence and with what I believed a corking good story in my pocket."

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