Now some people can see the sea. And the light, too. Sunlight. A light that feels like liberation.

At the intersection of Via Castello, Via Bertone and Via D’Alagno in Torre Annunziata, an open space now stands where some residents still look in disbelief. Until last May, Palazzo Fienga stood there, just steps from the sea, one of the city’s most imposing buildings: 12,000 square meters of space, three stories topped by a tower, and a history that was first a source of pride in the area’s development, then became a source of shame and terror for an entire community — and beyond.

In May, the Italian Army surrounded the block, and on May 21 the bulldozers moved in, beginning to erase a legacy of bloodshed, deaths, intimidation, stifled development and interference in local government.

Beginning in the 1980s, Palazzo Fienga was home to the Gionta clan’s inner circle. The Mafia clan used the tower to control virtually every corner of the city. The tower, with its grand Vanvitelli-style staircase, is now gone. On Sept. 9, the Army demolished it along with the rest of the enormous 19th-century complex, whose former grandeur is still documented on the Culture Ministry’s website.

“This is the largest demolition ever carried out by the Italian Army,” says Giuseppe Priolo, the government’s special commissioner overseeing the demolition, redevelopment and repurposing of Palazzo Fienga.

The cultural heritage authorities had hoped for a different fate. They wanted to preserve the building, which had been vacant for a decade after being confiscated, because it was considered a site of historical significance.

But the Torre Annunziata prosecutor’s office pushed hard for its complete demolition, arguing that the community could not be reborn by compromising with one of the places that symbolized its “oppressor.”

“We needed a strong, decisive break with the past,” says Nunzio Fragliasso, Torre Annunziata’s Chief Prosecutor.

It was a new beginning, one that brought with it a new horizon — both physical and visual.

“When the Army brought the building down, some people looking out from nearby apartment buildings said, ‘Finally, we can see the sea and the light,’” Priolo recalls.

“It was truly a message of liberation,” he says. “And in that context, the Army’s work was crucial.”

Soldiers from the 21st Combat Engineer Regiment of the Garibaldi Brigade, which was assigned the complex demolition project, worked around the clock to carry out the plans drawn up by the Southern Territorial Operations Center of the State Property Agency’s Design and Planning Division, headed by architect Ciro Iovino.

Fourteen soldiers were deployed, operating a fleet of 24 vehicles. The operation was first led by Col. Ventura and later by Col. Amiracella, with Capt. Loiudice coordinating the work on the ground.

So far, the project remains on schedule and is even slightly ahead of it. The final section of the building is expected to be demolished within a month. Then the rubble will have to be removed, sorted and disposed of.

Priolo is pleased with the progress. The engineers honored him with the honorary title of “Combat Engineer” for “always standing by us, sharing our difficulties and successes and never making us feel alone.”

“It is the recognition I am most proud of to date,” Priolo says, “because here, at Palazzo Fienga, we have shown that those who want to get things done don’t look for excuses to stop. They find a way to succeed.”

And so, as of today, the people of Torre Annunziata have been given back the chance to breathe.

To breathe in the air of the rule of law.

A Piazza della Legalità, or Square of Legality, will be created in the large open space left behind by the demolition. It will be named in honor of Giancarlo Siani, the journalist who wrote more than 100 articles exposing the Gionta clan’s business dealings, connections and secrets. He was killed at age 26 for his work.