When Italy Stayed Home

This blog, JanPepplerHOME, started over six years ago when I was in Italy at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic. Expecting to only be there for a few weeks, I ended up staying for 4 months. Arriving in Italy when I did, and choosing to stay, ultimately changed my life. But more than that, the pandemic changed us all. Each having our own singular experience, we still share something larger.

When Italy Stayed Home, tells the story of the Covid-19 pandemic in Italy. Below you will find a full description of the book and then, as special treat, the book’s epilogue. To order, visit my new website, JanPeppler.com. Right now, and through September, a special hardcover signed edition is available for $39.99 plus a flat $6 shipping fee (in the U.S.). After October 1, the hardcover edition will sell for the retail price of $46.99 and with a higher shipping cost.

Look, I’m terrible at self-promotion. I’m not savvy about social media. I’m planning for the official book launch in January but wanted to get something out to friends and supporters now so the books would be available for Christmas.

So here it is. Four years in the making. Order it at janpeppler.com and I will ship the first week in October.

When Italy Stayed Home is an intimate photo documentary featuring 100 full-color photographs captured over four months on the ground across Rome, Sicily, Tuscany, and Umbria during the devastating onset of the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic.

Through striking imagery and firsthand commentary, this collection chronicles the resilience and solidarity of a vibrant culture frozen in lockdown. From empty streets and historic piazzas to quiet belvederes and countryside landscapes, it captures both the sudden solitude of a nation and the enduring beauty of a country united in spirit.

Inside this collection:

· 100 Full-Color Photographs: Rich, evocative visual reportage from four distinct regions during the earliest days of the global lockdown.

· A Real-Time Chronicle: Photos and reflections unfold sequentially, tracking the virus’s impact as it happened—from the deceptive calm on the eve of lockdown, through the four successive lockdown extensions, to the cautious rebirth of social life in the month following quarantine.

· The Human Experience: Intimate portraits of daily life under new rules—masked encounters, friends and families conversing at a distance, and small groups re-emerging into public spaces.

· A Historic Record: A timeless archive of humanity and hope in the face of unprecedented adversity.

As I learn the “perks” of my new website, I will soon offer my epilogue as a bonus for signing up for my newsletter. A different newsletter than Substack. Confusing, right? Since you, my friends, are already here, I’m sharing it with you first:

Epilogue from When Italy Stayed Home, Belice Valley Press, 2026

Sifting through months of photographs, the weight of this assignment was ever-present. Honoring history meant setting aside the purely aesthetic compositions to present an honest representation of Italy during the early months of the pandemic. Admittedly, my experience was uniquely that of an American, grateful for refuge in a country united under a singular cause. What Italians felt – collectively or individually – I know only from a few that became my friends. Presented here is but a narrow illustration of a story so large that it can only be told with a slant.^[i]

The year 2020 was indisputably different from any other time in modern history. In the frantic effort to survive, many people felt—me included—that a collective pause occurred, and within that pause, hope. While reports of dolphins in the canals of Venice were false, there were genuine measurable changes in ecosystems that offered glimpses of what could be. There was a possibility of change, of cooperation, of harmony with each other and the natural world. Within the penumbra of lost lives, a new way of being was emerging.

Then, as the immediate threat waned, our old ways returned. The wheels of industry, tourism, and politics picked up where they had stopped and took off with renewed vigor. Even in Italy what appeared frozen in time is not. I refer to my photographs to confirm what has been lost and what has been replaced, trying not to fall prey to nostalgia – an insidious malady that threatens the clarity of memory.

When I review this collection of photographs, I remember the anxiety and fear, the hesitation and uncertainty, and the overwhelming daily reminders that life was carrying on in an almost unnatural way – behind doors. At the same time, these photos capture the Italy I fell in love with – the beauty and simplicity that spoke to me and the calm, slow, and quiet that soothed me.

Arriving in Italy when I did, and choosing to stay, ultimately changed my life. Whether by providence, fate, or serendipity—I was exactly where I needed to be. I felt safe. When panic threatened my thinking, locals calmed me. When I was lost, the island gently lulled me to pause. The nature of Italians, if you allow yourself to be open and guided by them, is to embrace you sincerely. Sicily felt like home as it became home. Not only the place where I laid my head and was fed, but where I felt comfortable, protected, and accepted.

During quarantine in Italy, the walls of home extended outward to the borders of the country itself. The Italian response to Covid-19 taught me that strength isn’t found in self-reliance, but in the graceful willingness to be bound to others. The photographs I offer in this collection record a moment that could have torn the country apart but instead emphasized the resilience of people who treasure family and community above all else.

---

^[i] “Tell all the truth but tell it slant” by Emily Dickinson

To order, go to JanPeppler.com

My new website also has a blog, where I plan to share a few things separate from what I share here. My first post (which is short) relates to the book’s dedication. Check it out here.