08/01/2021 17:22
Clarín.com
Fame
Updated 08/01/2021 17:22
Jonatan Viale
felt the need to remember, with a message on social networks, his father,
Mauro Viale
, who died, at the age of 73, on April 11 after contracting coronavirus (Covid-19).
The host and journalist of
Pan y Circo
, his cycle on Radio Rivadavia (AM 630, Monday through Friday from 3 to 5 p.m.), published a
moving message
on his Twitter account.
“It is a lie that time relieves pain. Each one I miss you more. I need you with me, ”
said Jonatan, in memory of his father.
The memory of Jonatan Viale to his father.
The journalist accompanied the heartbreaking message along with a photo - published in a magazine - of him and his father years ago.
On that note, Mauro praised his son, who then followed in his footsteps in the profession: "At age 5 he read
Clarín
and La Nación."
The publication quickly accumulated thousands of "likes" and a large number of messages, mostly words of encouragement for Jonatan.
On another occasion, months ago, Jonatan had posted the message
"We need you"
along with different photos and videos of his father playing with his son Romeo.
"The best grandfather in history. We love you so much,"
the journalist had written in another publication days ago.
The pain of loss
The day he returned to his radio program after the journalist's death, Jonatan expressed all the love he feels for his father.
"I am very proud of my father.
I knew he was loved, but I did not know the dimension. I assumed that many people loved him, but I experienced something impressive. Many workers, makeup artists, driver, porters who knew him wrote to me," he said at the time. Jonatan.
"My dad was huge in every dimension of the word
, physically, professionally, emotionally. It made me very good to know that my dad was a loved person on both sides of the crack," he added.
And he acknowledged:
"I got into journalism because I like it ... but mainly because of my dad. I did it a lot for him ...".
DD
Look also
Jonatan Viale, the journalist who was born to say resounding things
100,000 dead, 10 stories: the faces of Covid victims