He met her when his future still felt uncertain, a working actor with more hope than guarantees. On that 1967 set, surrounded by dust and choreographed chaos, Lori Zwicklbauer recognized the man behind the persona long before the world did. Their bond formed in the quiet moments—shared glances, unhurried conversations, a trust that did not need applause. When Mario Girotti became Terence Hill, she remained simply Lori, choosing presence over recognition.
As his fame soared, she became the still point in a life lived at full speed. She protected his privacy, steadied him through career shifts, and held the fragile pieces of their life when tragedy struck. Losing their son Ross could have broken them; instead, it became the hardest proof of their devotion. Together, they carried on for Jess, for each other, and for the love that outlasted both triumph and heartbreak.
