Marco Tosatti - Memoirs of an Exorcist: My Life Fighting Satan

In the room on via Alessandro Severo, on the ground floor of the big development complex, a veritable citadel, that is overshadowed by the basilica and its rather imposing dome that houses the Roman headquarters of the Societ San Paolo, it is cold. A little electric furnace wages its desperate battle against the drafts that infiltrate through the door. And the elderly man who enters, slightly bent, briefcase in hand, quickly informs me, Ill leave my cap on.

Its a stark atmosphere. The principle pieces of furniture include a small, extremely simple wooden table in the center, a few chairs from the sixties, and a brown armchair like those that were fashionable thirty years ago, with wooden arms, lightly angled backs, and brownish upholstery that recalls the socialist dcor of the Eastern countries. An enormous vintage refrigerator hums in a corner. The armchair is where Don Gabrieles peculiar patients sit. Peculiar because they suffer from illnesses that no one can recognize, understand, nor cure. Not medical science, which calls it a joke; and not those who should have some more familiarity with it, or at least the capacity, the desire, the duty to keep an open mind in regards to the paranormal, the supernaturaland yet Anyway, now we are coming to the heart of the matter, and I would prefer to talk more about the man, about the environment in which he passes the greater part of his time face-to-face, not just metaphorically, with an adversary who cannot be caught. I would like to tell you about this eighty-four-year-old man who twenty three years ago, in 1986, radically altered his own life, opening himself up to an adventure that engages him still.

There are few pictures on the walls. There is a large photograph of Don Giacomo Alberione, founder of the Societ San Paolo. And another, the image of a white-haired priest with tremendously expressive eyes beneath a broad forehead, wearing a large white heart embroidered on his black robes, the uniform of the Passionists. It is Padre Candido Amantini, who was an exorcist for forty years at the Scala Santa in Rome, and was Don Gabrieles mentor. A statue of Our Lady of Fatima dominates another wall, flanked by the image of a delicate Archangel Michael, probably of Baroque design. But by the armchair is the smiling face of Don Bosco, and close to him is a middle-aged Padre Pius: they are two saints who had a more than passing familiarity with Don Amorths unwelcome guestthat is, with the devilbut the saint of Pietrelcina had received particular attention, which is defined by the technical term, vexation.

Don Gabriele is a smiling man with a restless air, who always injects a certain amount of levity into his speech. He has no cell phone, he knows nothing about the internet, he doesnt watch television or read newspapers. At lunch, my brothers keep me informed on the things that are going on in the world. And his patients keep him well acquainted with other, unhappy things.

The impression of entering into another world, a dimension that is not your own familiar one, is intense. And it becomes even stronger the further the old priest unravels the thread of his stories. It shows you how some people, who seem the prototype of the smiling, talkative, genteel guest, can transform suddenly, falling into a trance, becoming screaming beasts, spewing foam and curses from their mouths, imbued with such strength that not even six or seven men could subdue them, and it becomes necessary to tie them to a bed to prevent them from doing harm to themselves or othersonly to come back around as soon as the prayer is finished, emerging from the trance calm and normal. There is a sense of two universes existing side-by-side, so close, parallel, and once in a while touching in a dramatic short circuit, caused by the Presence of a palpable malignant power, in that bare room on the ground floor of a palazzo on the outskirts of Rome, the headquarters of the editorial fleet of San Paolo. And what is astounding is the serenity of the priest before you who seems to hold the keys to that bridge between two universes, and speaks to you as though seeing ten-centimeter iron nails materialize in someones foaming mouth as they tried to spit them at you were the most normal thing in the world. Don Gabriele has a wealth of memories, stories, and experiences. And more than that. When memory fails, we are aided by printed records in the newsletter of theItalian at first, then internationalAssociation of Exorcists. Its a very homemade newsletter, edited on a portable typewriter, in several dozen copies. Don Gabriele has put this historical memory at our disposal with unprecedented access. It was the means by which the obscure combatants of this strange world exchanged information, experience, and the know-how critical to the daily battle against the Adversary. Together with the fruit of long meetings with Don Gabriele, we publish these experiences in order to render the portrait of a vocation and of a pastoral ministry that has been carried out at a distance and shrouded in mystery.

Of the testimonies that Don Gabriele has offered usalways careful to omit the names of persons involved, to prevent any possible identificationsome were personally witnessed by him. Others belong to priests employed in the same war against the Adversary; others still are the words of the victims. But it seems that in reality they all belong to him, to Don Gabriele, because from his voice come the circulars of the International Association of Exorcists, which is his most visible and lasting creation. We have therefore decided not to divide the results of these long talks into classical chapters, preferring to maintain and convey the sense of a long stream of words and feelings, punctuated by stories, testimonies, and experiences. Enjoy.

MARCO TOSATTI