LOUIS ALDO DeSANTI: A REMARKABLE LIFE

A proud member of our Italian-American community and AMHS member, my father Louis (Luigi) Aldo DeSanti, passed away peacefully at home on August 7, 2015, after a long and remarkable life. He was a man of deep faith, a warm and loving family man and a cherished friend to many. My father was born in America but when he was a baby, the family pulled up stakes and moved back to Italy, intending to remain there. He grew up in the small town of San Giorgio di Pesaro, in the Le Marche region in central Italy.

While growing up in San Giorgio, he played trumpet in the band and for 8 years he was an apprentice in a cabinetmaking shop, learning a trade. The fascist era of Benito Mussolini was by then underway. Meanwhile, his father had returned to America, to West Boylston, Massachusetts, after being unable to find work in Italy. As Mussolini came to power in Italy, he sent for his sons one at a time as he could afford it. So at the age of 15, my father left from Genoa by ship and came to America in 1934, arriving in Ellis Island at a time when the Italian section was a detention center with barbed wire.

(He was put there because he was an unaccompanied minor). He had no money, no English and no one to pick him up, but he eventually made his way to West Boylston where he was able to join his father and two older brothers. After learning English, he graduated from a public school at the top of his class, went to Amherst College on a scholarship, and then moved to New York City to go to Columbia University, where he earned a Ph.D. in international affairs.

For his thesis, on U.S. relations with Mussolini, he was given access to the captured papers of Mussolini at the U.S. State Department in Washington, D.C. He eventually translated these papers into English, but this time-consuming effort required him to move to Washington with his young family. He ended up staying in Washington and taking a job with the Central Intelligence Agency. He went on to have a long and distinguished career at the CIA, serving at headquarters and overseas. He devoted his life to serving his country, and during his career, he won a number of high awards and medals.

My father was very proud of his Italian heritage, and he enjoyed returning to his hometown in Italy many times over the years to visit family members and his boyhood friends— the kids he used to play soccer, chess and cards with while growing up in that small town. He wanted to make sure we did not forget our roots, so we would visit Italy with him, and he would bring over our Italian family members during the summers. He also loved visiting the many beautiful cities of Italy which he also came to know very well. He loved learning about history and politics, and sharing the knowledge he acquired. So after he retired, my father decided to expand his Ph.D. thesis into a book entitled

“The U.S. and Mussolini.” He gave a talk on his book at Casa Italiana in June 2012, at a program sponsored by the Abruzzo and Molise Heritage Society. He thoroughly enjoyed having such an appreciative and attentive audience of over 100 people. He also wrote a book on Christopher Columbus entitled “Columbus and the New World: Hero of the Millenium” and he gave a talk on the book during the Festa Italiana in 2011. The book was written to honor the 500th anniversary in 1992 of Columbus’ discovery of America. He greatly admired Columbus, and during the 1992 commemorative year, he traveled to Genoa and had his picture taken in front of Columbus’ house.

My father was a Holy Rosary parishioner and a member of AMHS and NIAF. At my father’s funeral service, my nephew gave the following moving tribute: My grandfather didn’t have an easy beginning. He was born in America but he spent most of his boyhood years under a fascist regime in a small town on the Adriatic Coast of Italy. He and his brothers had very little.

When he came back to America at 15 and arrived at Ellis Island, there was no one there to pick him up. He didn’t have money but he eventually found his way back to the town of West Boylston, Massachusetts. He grew up in the public school system not knowing much English at the start. But he was brilliant. He used to tell us all about the principal who took him aside before he left for college with the advice he never forgot: “Louis” he said “some kids go to the butcher shop and forget the meat.

Don’t forget the meat.” Not only did he not forget the meat, he could have opened up a couple butcher shops with all of the meat that he got. He graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Amherst College and received his Ph.D. in International Affairs from Columbia University. He was as patriotic a man as I’ve ever met. He devoted his life to serving his country both during World War II and afterward in the CIA. From the accounts of his peers, he was a legend. During his career, he won the CIA Intelligence Medal twice, which is almost unprecedented. Growing up I didn’t really understand what he did, but on occasion he would pull me aside and say things like, “Did I ever tell you about the time I was forced to go jaguar hunting in Bolivia?” His love for his family was unconditional and without exception. My grandfather also made sure we never forgot our roots.

He would bring our Italian cousins over during the summers and we would take trips to Italy to connect and re-connect. He had a booming voice and you could even hear his whispers from the other side of a crowded room. He was a raconteur of the first order. His love of history was so passionate that his voice would break when he’d talk about great figures and great achievements. This often happened in quiet restaurants. He loved politics and thought they were important. Conversations could get heated. I think we’re still not allowed to discuss Al Gore. His favorite word for politicians he disagreed with was “blockhead.” To say he was generous, understates who he was. It may have been his most defining characteristic.

He had a force of will and power of persuasion that were so strong, he would physically grip your hand when telling a story, offering an opinion, or letting you know how he wanted things to be. He was the hardest man to say “no” to. But when you sat with him, you learned so much. Again, he was truly brilliant and he brightened the spirits of everyone around him. Words can do him justice but they don’t quite meet the bar in describing what he meant to me and our family. Maybe all you need to know is that he’s the man we admired most.