FATHER PIETRO DAVOLI

1911 – 2006

Father Pietro was born in Turin on March 17, 1911, the son of Remo Davoli and Serafina Servidei. He entered our Congregation in 1925 and had the good fortune of knowing the Founder. In 1931 he made his religious profession and in 1935 was ordained to the priesthood.

He left for Kenya in 1936 where he would work continually for 68 years. His work demonstrated the patience, tenacity and humility of a peasant. Like a peasant he worked long and hard: he was in charge of the farms at Tinderet (1936-1940) Nyeri Hill (1945-1948) and then again at Tinderet (1948-1950). Thanks to his efforts the missionaries could build hospitals, schools and churches. During the War he was interned in Kabete, South Africa (1940-1945).

In a letter to Father Sandrone, Vice-Superior General, from the prison camp of Koffiefontein (South Africa) he described how much he suffered thinking of the missions abandoned in Kenya: “Here life goes forward more or less regularly and one gradually becomes accustomed to being a prisoner, of living behind barbed wire. When I think of the missions we have left behind, of the work left undone the barbed wire fences close in upon us. Life without the holy satisfaction of the ministry is really hard.” (July 12, 1941). He adds a line of paradox: “Certainly when I was a seminary student collecting candy for prisoners I never thought that one day I too would be imprisoned!”

In 1956 he celebrated the 25^th anniversary of his profession. In response to the congratulations of Father Sandrone he wrote: “I have never regretted becoming a Consolata Missionary – it is a gift for which I am grateful to the Lord. I have always tried to do everything I could to be useful to the Congregation and souls. I do not envy those confrères who work directly with souls. The souls I am saving at present are coffee plants. I take care of these plants with the same solicitude I would expend among people if I were working with them.” (October 28, 1956).

In the 1960s he followed Msgr. Carlo Cavallera who left the well-established Nyeri to found the new diocese of Marsabit in the semi-arid north where the Samburu, Turkana, Borana, Gabbra, Olmolo and Rendille lived. Here he did parish work (Assistant Pastor) at Wamba, Baragoi, Mararal and South Horr; he was Pastor in Sololo and Archer’s Post. “Finally,” he wrote to Father Sandrone, “after almost 31 years of farm work I am at last doing something new. I am a missionary among the Samburu and the Turkana. I have looked forward to this day for so many years. Finally, Divine Providence has seen fit to make it a reality” (February 20, 1967). For Father Davoli it was an entirely new challenge but he was convinced that with a little good will he would succeed. He asked friends to pray for his success in this endeavor: he wanted to “do a little good for these peoples who are so very poor.”

It was a genuinely difficult place where “… men and women lead their flocks in search of pasture and water to sate the hunger and thirst that is ever present in these environs. Drought brings death for everyone.

Caravans gathered at the wells: arguments exploded, hatreds were ignited, vengeance was extracted. There were also bandits and brigands – two of our confrères were victims: Father Michele Stallone killed at Baragoi in 1965 and Father Luigi Graiff at Parkati in 1981.

Even today the situation of these semi-nomads is precarious and marginal. It is aggravated by the central government’s lack of concern along with political corruption and tribalism. Father Davoli worked behind the scenes. His hands were calloused and his heart full of passion. In silence he bore witness for the most vulnerable. He was never seen in the newspapers or on television. He was a worker, someone who knew how to smile and work.” (Missioni Consolata 2, 1998, p. 65).

He could boast of one totally unique accomplishment: he had climbed Mount Kenya 33 times and had celebrated Mass at its summit. In an interview in Missioni Consolata (February 1998 pp. 64-65) entitled “Provocazioni Missionarie” he said: “I have always enjoyed talking about Mount Kenya. Reaching its summit (5,200 meters) is enormously satisfying. Seeing snow on the equator, scaling 10-12 meter high walls of ice, enjoying the view from the very top – all this makes me feel like a different person. I thank the Lord for this gift, may His mercy be proclaimed to all peoples.”

The ascent of Mount Kenya was not just an athletic pastime. It was also a challenge, a “work strategy.” For traditional Kikuyu Mount Kenya was the home of Ngai (God); it could not be violated under penalty of death. Reaching its summit was proof that there was no evil spirit on the mountaintop. It also made people ask – “Do our dead people now belong to the God of the whites?”

As the years went by Father Davoli was genuinely indefatigable. After almost 90 years in harness he continued to pursue the missionary enterprise. In 2001 while on vacation in Italy he wrote to Father Viotto, the Kenya regional superior: “In the midst of all these white faces and all my brothers with their ailments I can only thank God for the good health he has always given me. My only problem is my age (90 years): everyone treats me like a hero when they should instead pity me!” (July 16, 2001).

He wrote to Father Trabucco, the Superior General to thank him for the good wishes on his 70^th anniversary of profession: “I thank the Lord who called me to his service among the Consolata Missionaries and I pray that he grant me the grace of persevering until the end. On March 19 I am leaving for South Horr (Kenya): please give me your blessing so that I might do some good among those people. I leave now, as happy as I was when I set out in 1936.” (September 12, 2001).

In 2004 he retired and went to live in Alpignano where he died on February 28, 2006. Father Genta assisted him at his departure from this life. He was 95 years old, a religious for 75 years, a priest for 71 and the oldest member of our Congregation.

His funeral Mass was celebrated at 2:00 PM on Thursday, March 2, 2006 and Msgr. Aldo Mongiano presided. Father Achille Da Ros preached the homily and Father Pietro Ronchi said a few words. Both of them had worked with Father Pietro in the northern mission. Signorina Mirella, a co-worker, also spoke. Everyone focused on his physical and spiritual stature, his spirit of prayer, his devotion to the rosary, his concern for confrères, his openness to all regardless of race and his commitment to work.

Many brothers and sisters from nearby houses, health workers and co-workers of Father Pietro attended the service. He was laid to rest in the cemetery at Alpignano.

Editors of Da Casa Madre

FAITHFUL TO THE VERY END

Nobody was surprised to hear of Father Davoli’s death. It was to be expected. And still we miss him and have missed him for the past two years since his wretched legs forced him into retirement at Alpignano.

In a letter he sent us from Alpignano he wrote: “I left with the hope that I would return but the Lord has different plans and I am sure that they are for my own good. His will be done.”

We had become used to him after 95 years (minus 17 days). Sixty-eight of those years were spent in Africa. We were accustomed to his quiet, even and serene life-style. We were accustomed to that enthusiasm which nothing could dampen. We were used to his gruff humor – he was like a chili pepper – and we were accustomed to the delicious produce that came from his garden in South Horr.

I cannot say that I knew him in his youth although I had seen him in Turin when I was a theology student and while I worked for so many years on the periodicals. But I will never forget my first meeting with him in South Horr: hat on head, vest covering his sun-tanned skin, robust physique, dusty sandals, ancient Land Rover that he drove everywhere on the dusty, rocky roads of the North. He was already past the age of retirement but he never even gave a thought to such an eventuality.

He was never a great thinker; except for his 33 ascents of Mt. Kenya he never came into the limelight; rather he worked with the patience, tenacity and humility of a peasant. That was it exactly – my first impression was of a peasant. He reminded me of my father: same physique, way of walking, dressing, wearing a hat, the same passion for the earth, the same pride in his garden … He was like a peasant with his calm, self-control, simple gestures, profound contentment and respectful manners. These qualities supported him to the end when his legs gave out and he could no longer walk or be independent.

He closed his 2004 letter to the Kenya Regional Superior with these words: “My body may be far off but my mind and soul will always be in Africa.”

Akuya (grandfather) they called him in South Horr, you will always be with us because you are on Mt. Kenya, the House of God.

Father Gigi Anataloni, imc