It was the 1960s, and if I recall correctly, 1966, when, on the occasion of a meeting in Milan for regional technicians of BP (British Petroleum), where I was employed, for a refresher course organized by the company’s management, I met a special person, the one who would become known to everyone simply as Don Vittorione.

During the week of the course, the executives would take us to dine in local trattorias renowned for their specialties. One evening, we found ourselves in Varese, at a highly praised restaurant famous for its delicacies. As soon as we entered, I was immediately struck by a strange, voluminous figure with wide feet, arms spread out holding large trays of food, and a booming voice reprimanding a young boy (his nephew), who had made a mistake with the customers’ orders. I barely had time to take in the scene when behind me erupted the sarcastic laughter of my colleagues, shocked by the sight of this odd and amusing character. I joined them, not wanting to be left out, though I did not know that one day I would deeply regret it. We spent a lively, almost playful evening, enjoying the various courses with excellent wine, confirming the restaurant's renowned reputation, though I failed to note the name of the owner.

Almost fifteen years passed, and one evening, on the television show Lascia o Raddoppia, I caught a glimpse of a gigantic figure being interviewed by Mike Bongiorno. He was promoting aid for a population living in a depressed area of Africa. I didn’t recognize him as the restaurateur from Varese, perhaps because he was dressed in a dark, neat suit and spoke with a passionate and vibrant voice, or maybe because I was distracted by other things. It wasn’t until 1980 that I saw and personally met Vittorio Pastori again. That’s when I entered into a special relationship with him.

Vittorio came to Bolzano at the invitation of one of his "disciples" from Padua, Mrs. Luisa Nardo, who had moved to Bolzano with her family a couple of years earlier. Luisa had come to know Vittorio through his many events around Italy, raising awareness of the dramatic poverty affecting a particular region of Africa and promoting aid for the survival of its population.

Luisa quickly became involved in the activities of the Christ the King parish, run by the Dominican Fathers, and took on the leadership of the Missionary Animation Group, which I had recently joined as a long-time parishioner since 1939. After a disappointing period of local political engagement, I found it more fruitful to dedicate myself to the vineyard of the Lord. The group also included Nino Corradini, who would later become a key figure in Africa Mission. We received Vittorio in the late afternoon at the Dominican Fathers' Convent. He arrived in a spacious car, reclining in the back seat of an old Alfa or Citroen driven by his nephew. As I saw him struggle to get out of the car and stand up, I recognized him immediately. The large, awkward restaurateur from Varese, whom I had mocked fourteen years earlier, stood before me, looking unassuming but at ease, as if we had met just a short while ago. While I felt confused and lost, he greeted everyone in a soothing voice and followed our group assistant into the convent, where he and his nephew were staying.

I remember the friars going to great lengths to provide Vittorio with a suitable bed. They had to remove the footboard and extend the bed using two chairs and two cushions so that Vittorio could stretch out his legs comfortably. A busy schedule of meetings had been prepared for his visit, organized by the energetic Luisa, who had involved various missionary groups, including ours. I should point out that at the time, we were all busy with our own jobs, so we divided up the tasks to ensure Vittorio was supported at each meeting location. I remember Nino going to great lengths to arrange and manage Vittorio’s various movements. He took advantage of his son’s position as the head of the fifth-year class at the Technical Industrial School to secure the large auditorium, which filled up with students from both the Industrial School and the nearby Commercial and Surveyor Institutes. The turnout alarmed us because we didn’t know how our speaker would be received. He had no reservations; he confidently took the stage and immediately began speaking with a vibrant voice, silencing the students' chatter and comments. Even I, attending as an escort, was glued to my seat, amazed yet attentive to his passionate words, just as the students were gradually captivated by his warmth. His words pierced our hearts like flaming arrows. His strong and animated appeals emphasized our indifference and inaction in the face of the extreme precariousness of so many people on earth and the responsibility of the comfortable Western world. It was a general reproach, but one that hit home in many of the young consciences present.

At the end of Vittorio's speech, there was a moment of silence, followed by thunderous and overwhelming applause from everyone in the large hall. They had realized they were in the presence of a true missionary, someone who had made his life a total offering for a concrete and necessary humanitarian cause. The meeting was a tremendous success, far beyond our expectations.

The planned tour continued in the afternoon at the Marcelline Sisters’ Institute, the following day at the Salesian Institute, and then at the Don Bosco Oratory in Laives, packed with members of various volunteer associations. Our missionary appeared satisfied with the outcomes of the meetings and often enjoyed jovial moments after pouring out so much energy standing up and passionately describing the desperate situation of the impoverished Ugandan population in the Karamoja region. I have to say that his sometimes gruff tone reminded me of Padre Pio when, about twenty years earlier, I had gone to San Giovanni Rotondo, also by chance, to accompany a friend for a marble order in Trani. I attended Mass celebrated by Padre Pio, now Saint Pio, with a brief homily and then took the opportunity for confession. Even in that case, the tone was one of reproach and admonishment for a Christian life that I needed to take more seriously and concretely, consistent with the Gospel teachings.

I associate the two encounters because I had the same feeling: that I was in the presence of two exceptional people who weren’t speaking for themselves but announcing a reality that could not be ignored; one had to act immediately. They made me understand that you cannot just live day by day; it was a call to consider one’s existence as a unique treasure not to be squandered but worth dedicating one’s life to. The charisma of the man who would later become known as Don Vittorio, or rather, Don Vittorione, struck me and never left.

I felt a new energy within me, driving me to realize Don Vittorione’s vision, the project that had changed his life: "Stop feeding the rich to feed the poor," because "those who are hungry, are hungry now." His immense love for humanity, the poor, the downtrodden, the outcasts, and the abandoned couldn’t allow him to leave them alone, but like the Good Samaritan, he responded to an overpowering inner call for justice and solidarity with those in need. Surely, the Gospel was his reason for living, and his deep faith sustained his work. In his passionate appeals, we can also call him, like Don Mazzolari, a trumpet of the Holy Spirit. And this captivated many of us who listened to his stirring call to action. We immediately got to work, and with friends from Laives, we organized the first "Food Drive," which extended beyond Bolzano to the surrounding areas, including the Lower Adige region as far as Salorno, on the border with Trento.

This initiative never stopped and continues today, after 38 years. Who but a providential bond could keep such a diverse group of volunteers—professionals, employees, workers, housewives, retirees, students, soldiers—united over time, with generational changes that have interpreted the human solidarity so strongly advocated by Don Vittorio? Personally, as I was responsible for organizing the "Food Drive" for several years, I felt an unusual drive. I didn’t shy away from any obstacles or difficulties in obtaining authorization or contributions from public and private entities. And all this audacity because the goal wasn’t a private interest of mine but for people in life-threatening situations who needed help immediately. There were also moments of tension, especially when there was a sudden shortage of volunteers to cover the already active stations at supermarkets, and it was necessary to find or move someone quickly to maintain a stable presence in front of the containers for the goods offered by the public. Remarkably, I always received a timely phone call from one or more people eager to participate in our initiative. This startling coincidence always filled me with wonder and reminded me that I was a "man of little faith."

From these episodes, I’ve come to believe that someone up above has always cared for this work and continues to oversee and guide the volunteers’ efforts. I am convinced that the work conceived, designed, and carried out by Don Vittorio is a holy one that must continue until its ultimate goal is achieved: the autonomous existence of the Karimojong people, with the necessary and adequate socio-health structures to ensure peaceful and humane coexistence in the future. With this, I conclude my story with Don Vittorione, but not the memory of a generous and saintly man who gave his life, even to the point of ultimate sacrifice—his premature death was undoubtedly caused by the wound he suffered during the tragic attack by the "Lord's Resistance Army" rebels during a food transport from Kampala to Karamoja—for the survival of those in need of help, and above all, the fraternal solidarity he knew how to give.

Bolzano, November 6, 2018