Brother Romolo was born the son of Giacomo Gai and Pasqua Dal Piccol at Vidor (TV) on March 19, 1931. He entered the Institute at the Vittorio Veneto house, where he completed the first year of middle school. He continued his studies up to Gymnasium at Varallo Sesia. In 1952 he consecrated himself to the Lord by making his religious profession. He was transferred to the house in Alpignano where he gained experience as a mechanic and wood turner.

In 1957 he was sent to Tanzania. His work as a brother was precious; in so many missions there were things to be built and remodeled. For one year he worked as a mechanic at Tosamaganga; the following year he worked on construction at Malangali and then at Ujewa; he returned to Malangali and then moved on to Irole. From 1968 to 1975 Brother Romolo was involved in building the John’s Corner Seminary in Iringa. From 1971 to 1972 he worked on the church at the Wasa Mission. From 1972 to 1976 he helped build the beautiful cloistered convent of the Camaldolese Nuns at Mafinga.

He spent two years in Italy (1976-1978) taking renewal courses and helping out around the house at Alpignano. He then went to work in Zaire (Congo) where he spent five years in the eastern region building churches, bridges and being a jack-of-all-trades in the missions of Isiro, Bafwabaka, Pawa and Wamba. From 1983 to 1993 he lived and worked at the parish of Mont Ngafula in Kinshasa , the capital. In 1998 he returned to Italy, to the house at Alpignano to work on warehouse shipments.

In May 1999 he developed a tumor and entered the hospital at Cottolengo for an unsuccessful operation. There followed a series of hospital stays and unsuccessful operations. Our brother accepted this prolonged Calvary of suffering with serenity. The nurses cared for him with marvelous devotion. His sufferings came to an end while the Community was celebrating Mass and praying for him on November 14.

Fr. Emanuele Maggioni, Vice-superior of the Region presided at his funeral Mass on Thursday, November 16. Confrčres from Tanzania and the Congo concelebrated the Mass and relatives from Milan, the Veneto and Switzerland attended.

Fathers Maggioni and Soldati spoke at the service. They both mentioned aspects of our brother’s personality; he knew how to translate our Founder’s suggestions into reality, how he combined hard work, cheerfulness and devotion to Our Lady.

His body was buried in the cemetery at Alpignano.

Fr. Ignazio Mondin

TESTIMONIES

He knew how to make people like him

Today after the moving burial in Alpignano of “the youngest member of our community” Bro. Romolo Gai, this message came from the Delegation Superior, Fr. Stefano Camerlengo in Kinshasa.

My Dear Brothers,

We received with great sorrow the news of our dear Brother Romolo Gai’s death. We join with the whole Institute in mourning his departure from our midst.  In his own special way, he was a generous person – one who was always open and one who accomplished much good. May the Lord, who sees and understands better than we do, reward him for the life he gave to the Missions. We are left behind to carry on the work of evangelization, to follow the path marked out by so many witnesses like Bro. Romolo. We thank you for the care and loving welcome you extended to him. Yours too is a full-time mission; it is steeped in that suffering which purifies and strengthens us on our journey. Keep the lamps of faith, charity and hope alight; they make it possible for us who work in distant lands to give our life – not to our own particular mission but to the authentic mission of Christ

.

Thanks and carry on! Always together in Christ and in Our Lady, the Consolata.

  Yours, Fr. Camerlengo and all the Missionaries in Kinshasa

Brother Romolo Gai reached Blessed Giuseppe Allamano House in July, 1998. He had come home after nearly forty years in the missions to work in our “Emporio” warehouses. I know it was hard for him at first; he was used to working with a hammer, trowel or some other builder’s tool … But his innate will to live while waiting for a new assignment found an outlet in the trips he took on an old motorcycle he had found. He had an ugly fall and several months passed before he could ride again.

In the meantime he helped out as cellarer with that pleasant disposition that charmed everyone. I had known him in those early days when we were building a professional mission school. He had just made his profession at Certosa di Pesio on November 1, 1952 and was learning construction work with some other brothers. He became an expert in working with iron and reinforced concrete. He was a committed religious and a very lively companion. He was also muscles, slim and agile as a cat – he always had a smile on his face and knew how to make people like him.

It seemed almost a waste – the jobs he had here, so different from what he did in the past. He was eager to return to the missions, but with the passing of time cancer made its deadly progress. He was courageous, optimistic and always cooperative with the Cottolengo doctors – they too came to love him as a brother. When there little more they could do but alleviate his suffering the doctors sent him home. Fr. Genta and all of us here did what we could to help him bear his cross! During our visits he would smile, but did not speak although he was always ready to say a Hail Mary and receive a blessing. He died at 7:30 AM on November 14. During the previous evening, Fr. Mondin, the superior, had administered the Sacrament of the Sick.

The concelebrated Mass on November 16 was very crowded. On that day we had planned to commemorate all the members of the Institute who had died during the year – among whom there were ten of our own – instead it was the day of Brother Romolo’s funeral. Fr. Emanuele Maggioni presided at the funeral. Both he and Fr. Franco Soldati shared memories of our departed brother – there was a feeling of family and of comfort for Brother Romolo’s brother, sister and many other relatives who came from afar.

Now Brother Romolo rests in the cemetery at Alpignano in the company of our other departed confrčres. May mother earth take them to her bosom and send them off, in the faith that sustains us, to that glorious land of the risen where they will take their place with the Apostles. R.I.P.

Fr. Giuseppe Mina

Always willing

When I heard the news of Brother Romolo’s death I was at Isiro. For two days I thought of him with affection as I looked at all the work he had done in our Regional House. Before returning to the Congo I had a chance to visit him in the hospital at Cottolengo. He asked me to greet his friends at Wamba and joked about the sickness that had kept him bed-ridden for so many months.

I remember Romolo as a brother – a tireless and resourceful builder and mechanic. He knew how to organize and how to share in the work himself. I knew him in Tanzania and admired his many skills. Later, in Zaire (Congo) I asked him to come and help us. He left his mark here with the parish halls and other things he built at Wamba, and then at Abiangama and later still at Isiro …

He was in the missions for 45 years, and although he never preached he left behind him monuments, beautiful buildings, that proclaim his love of the missions. I always found him willing and eager to do that work he did so well. He loved the rosary. He was strong in times of trouble and suffering. Although he was reluctant to talk about himself or his work he was always cheerful liked to joke.

He is the fifth dead missionary to have worked and left a beautiful memory behind him in the Congo. May his death raise up other vocations to the brotherhood – as precious as his own was.

Fr. Enrico Casali

The smiling face of the mission

I had the pleasure of living with Brother Romolo at two different times during my life as a missionary. First at Wamba (Congo) as a young deacon, I was doing my pastoral year and he was building the parish hall. I was astonished by his ability to work, and to make others work as well. He was like one of those old-time missionaries: with few resources he managed to do everything, and do it well. There was no problem he could not solve, and solve satisfactorily. He could work miracles with the scarce and poor material he had at hand. I remember an occasion when enormous carpentry machines arrived from Italy and we had no idea how to unload them. He arrived on the scene – the brother of legend – took some planks and had those machines down on the ground in a flash. 

When he worked, he transformed things, he created things. Work was his life and he was uncomfortable when he couldn’t get down to it or when it wasn’t being done as it should be. He was impatient with workers who weren’t eager to learn and would only employ those who enjoyed work and were committed to it. At the end of the work day he became a different person: he laughed and talked about everything and if he was in the mood he would share confidences. Those were beautiful evenings – we saw the true Romolo, genuine and spontaneous. 

In recent years we were together again at Kinshasa. Brother Romolo had grown old. Unremitting pain kept him from doing what he would have liked to do – but he still knew how to smile and it was always a pleasure to be with him. Even though he did not work directly with the people of the parish he was well known, and although he sometimes gave the impression of being isolated, he helped many people in need. The many religious communities crowded together on the hill of Kimbondo can attest to he help he always volunteered for a variety of jobs. He did these jobs with laughter, shouting and affection. He was faithful in his attendance at daily Mass and reciting the rosary and was a source of edification for the seminarians.

When he retired to Alpignano and sickness was consuming him, he continued to smile and lift the spirits of all who visited him. He bore his atrocious sufferings with courage and faith and was an example to all of us.

There are many things I could say about dear Brother Romolo - here are but a few. His was a complicated, creative and at times effervescent personality; he was full of joie de vivre; he was unpretentious and could talk to anyone; if at times he was seemed remote or reticent, he was nonetheless genuine and sincere – the sort of person we will always need. The missions have lost a friend, a lover of life, a joyful man who in spite of everything knew how to love. The witness of his life has made a strong impression on me and on all who knew him. We entrust him to the mercy of God who will know how to turn Brother Romolo into a good angel who will help us carry on with his same enthusiasm and willingness to give himself for the Kingdom.

Fr. Stefano Camerlengo

He was at home with everyone

“May my tongue cleave to my palate if I should forget you, my brother”

For ten years we shared the joys, sorrows and misfortunes of life here on the outskirts of the great and chaotic capital of the Congo – a country that floats on a sea of destitution, war and abandonment.

You were an open, welcoming man; a man of good humor and quick wit. You could defuse tense situations and lift people’s spirits. You enjoyed company and knew how to organize parties, and create welcoming spaces. It was always a pleasure to be with you. You were the brother who could do anything. Your skill as a builder and carpenter made you a precious commodity for all those religious communities that sought your help.

Brother Romolo was well known in the parish of Mont-Ngafula. All his former workers, even those who hadn’t been inside a church for years, attended his memorial Mass at Mater Dei. They respected his love of work and were grateful for all they had learned from him. He understood African psychology and not infrequently said, “We, Bantu …” and he said it with conviction! However different they were from him, he loved and supported them. 

Among the many buildings he has left behind, there is one small corner that he loved: the paillot behind the mission house. He put a stone table there with a stand for the Bible … and was very proud of his work. He went there frequently to pray. That paillot is a monument that speaks to us of him.

Dear brother, “Romolaccio” we called you affectionately, when your exuberance carried you away - "May my tongue cleave to my palate if I should forget you, my brother!”

Sister Renata Pulici