Diaspora Digest #21

Pax, diaspora!

DD21 comes out quicker than usual due to (1) your outpouring more than 100 letters in two months, and (2) Jack Brennan coming fully on board as co-editor (his remarks carry the initials "JB") and (3) Susan typing much of the mail that comes handwritten or typewritten.

It's a great pleasure for us. Every issue brings new life stories, new adventures, new memories. It gets harder and harder to select the most readable items from each letter. It is impossible to fit every thought in. We're glad so many appreciate the results. As said before, for the shorter hard-copy version, we tend to keep your stories and feelings, and shave the ideological disputations and quotations of others, valuable as they are.

We look for the Celano in you, the fioretti in the diaspora forest rather than for the Scotus or Occam QEDs. Let your inner light shine and our hearts will sing. Gael is responsible when mail gets mislaid.

The last issue came out Christmas week 1996.

10 Nov 96: Tarsicius Laverne Fischer OFM: I finally found his letter and card of his 50th anniversary as a Franciscan (1939-1989). I'd urged him to write: Here I am! I regret the silence on my part. I should write a former student. Somehow I feel that Michael Sellers was above you in class. He is now a concert pianist. He sends me reports of his travels to Europe. He recently played in Spain. I have an article about him in French. He played in Germany and in the Scandinavian countries.

Today, I have been encouraged to attend a dinner and a vocal recital by Alan Held, who had an important role in the "Ring Cycle" of Richard Wagner. Afterwards, I will go to Orchestra Hall to hear the glorious voice of Bryn Terfel from Wales. He did "Popageno" in last year's "The Magic Flute." Can you imagine doing the Ring in its entirety for three weeks? I marvel at the stamina; the strain on the vocal cords must be taxing. Zachary Hayes attended the four operas in one week. I believe "Die Goetterdaemmerung" takes close to five hours. Last Sunday, I heard Renee Flemming at Orchestral Hall in a vocal concert. Beautiful. But not like Marian Anderson in "Der Tod und das Maedchen." It did not have the passion. - Lovingly.

5 Dec 96 - Juvenal Carlson (1950): Here goes a Third World "Christmas card" form letter. In February I was transferred back to Santarem to pick up the same jobs that I had before. The jobs: 1)"Superior" of the Vice Provincial Mother House. This is where all the action is. Much comings and many goings. Excitement, movement, tears, laughter, feast, famine, you name it, it's all here. "Superior" means the piddle-post for the gang. 2)Parochial Vicar. There are two of us in the parish. Territory-wise it is about half of the city. Santarem has over 300,000 people. There are numerous areas that have thousands of squatters. No water, no light, no streets and most definitely no sewage system. Most of the people are recent arrivals from the interior looking for a "better" life in their little wooden shacks. Many are under or unemployed. The scene is bad ready made for prostitution, banditry and all that lousy stuff. We have nine communities in the interior. I get around to them twice a month. In the city we have seven churches in our parish. Each of them could easily be a separate parish. They have the people and the conditions for it.

We're starting on kind of a new project. It's getting involved with a group that is dedicated to maintaining a day nursery for seriously undernourished children. It operates on a shoestring budget. The majority of the people involved are volunteers. It's marvelously organized and they work miracles. There are about 50-60 of the little sweethearts. Miracles have no explanation, unless it is love, tenderness and competence that exude from all involved.

I was home during the months of July and August. This is the third time that our "class"- the solemn vows ordination-got together in a retreat house in the Ozarks. Two of the gang brought their wives. I told them, "If they don't come, I won't go." They came. I went. And we loved them. Five days of pure Franciscan joy Celebration, prayer, conversation, some quiet moments, lots of horsing around and great grub.

6 Dec 96 Jim Schmitt explained the "Egg" in his email address (JSEgg@aol.com) as in "Easter Egg": Beings I have bet my whole life on the belief that there is an Easter. I think of myself as the "Easter Egg". Easter mostly happens in my life when I get out of the shell and lay cracked on the bottom of the bowl- just being messy and useless. Now you've heard the good news! Besides there are so many Schmitts on line that my computer wouldn't take any form of Schmitt or J. Schmitt when trying to get an address. Peace, Musky

9 Dec 96 Bro. Herman James sent a keeper of a Christmas card with message: God loves you so dearly.

17 Dec 96 Marvin (Mario) Waukau (1959): "Just a note with a card (a beautiful snow-covered mountain scene with teepees and birches and Indians in the foreground). I've been wanting to write and let you know how much I enjoy reading about the others in the Order. I'm including an article that will tell you what has been going on in my life." Marvin, Sarah, Nathan, Susie.

The article is from the Antigo, Wisconsin, newspaper. It describes the Chamber of Commerce awards banquet where Marvin Waukau was named citizen of the year. His nomination was suggested and supported by persons of all ages, with the chamber receiving 36 letters from community leaders, teachers and school children for his work as a community volunteer and efforts to share his Native American culture with others. [Proud of you, Mario.]

18 Dec 96: Jack Brennan (Comparing our computer problems to our novitiate) ...Sort of like the Ernst-Ternst flower garden by the entrance to the choir in the novitiate. We didn't have any control over the garden. I think the only reason those flowers grew was because they didn't want Alban to know that we spent more time talking than we did weeding. That's when we plumbed the depths of each other's souls for the first time, it seems to me. I wouldn't be surprised if the flowers were nourished by our pious talk. (I'll resist the temptation to refer to our sacred conversations as earthly fertilizer.)

21 Dec 96: Gael Stahl (in an email to all those on-line): Bad news about Ben Skonieczny just came in. I was picking up the phone to call my sister Joannie, when the phone rang. Ben has terminal cancer. Kay, his wife, is with him at the hospital, Amy his younger daughter answered my call. Ben is too weak to take calls or visits.

Amy and Molly have graduated from college and came home for the duration. Amy said Ben started coughing and feeling weak in August. But due to a variety of symptoms, it was hard to diagnose the problem until Thanksgiving. The doctors excised a tumor in his colon that day but found signs of cancer in his lymph nodes. And now a big tumor under his stomach causes him great discomfort.

Ben wasn't able to eat the past month and is too weak to be taken elsewhere for other treatment. The address is skoneyb@aol.com and 916/944-1641, 4140 Marshall Av, Carmichael, CA 95608.

Ben and Kay have lived such good healthy lives, eating right, exercising right. There is no protection from these vagrant invasions of our bodies.

21 Dec 96: Jack Brennan: Damn it! Haven't seen Ben in a very long time; probably 15 years or more when he and Mooney lived in Santa Rosa. I met Kay only once and I don't think that I met his children at all. I do think about Ben a lot. Remember how I used to freeze up in homiletics? Dismas thought I needed therapy. I think the rest of you were ganz verblift about it. One day Ben offered to help me by listening to my sermons and offer whatever he could to ease the pain I was in. I'll never forget that. Ben is a splendid, unforgettable man.

21 Dec 96: Keith Eckrich: It is so sad. Thanks for Ben's email. I have written prayers to him and Kay and their family.

22 Dec 96 - Chas Cantlon and Margie: The Cantlons & Bachmanns of Montana sent a 6-page newsletter about trips to Minneapolis, Chicago (Elmwood) and Indianapolis, Bloomington, Ind. Their blended family had many events with schools and job prospects. Margie and Chas are involved in Kaniksu Ranch near Spokane, WA, the nudist club they belong to. Chas is the treasurer and Margie the newsletter writer of "The Post." Their plans for 1997 are to host an open house each month for first-time nudists and people curious about the lifestyle. Margie hopes to increase the scope of her writing - she has already published articles in each of the two national publications. They invite visitors during the warmer months at their cabin. Call them at (509)233- 9066. They also put together a concert series and have put together a limited edition CD to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the series. The performing arts are thriving in Lake County. cmc@ronan.net is their new e-mail address.

22 Dec 96: Gael Stahl Jerry Klein called to talk about Ben -- almost unbelieving. First Jim Lyke, now Ben in our class. - Jerry administrates all juvenile correctional programs in northern Florida and kind of audits the quality of their performance.

A couple years ago he married Theresa, a University of Florida fan. His daughter is at that university but he is an FSU fan. - He says he never found out "why there is something rather than nothing" and doesn't give the question a lot of thought lately. He has a computer and modem but no e-mail, yet.

22 Dec 96 - Richard Korn: Madeleine and I have been married almost a year, now, and we have grown in our love for and understanding of each other. Madeleine's mother, Glynn, died in June and has had an enormous emotional impact on us. I lived with and took care of her for a year before I moved to Columbus.

We moved into a larger, three-bedroom town home within the same building (6683 Concouse Loop) where I continue as manager. Our third bedroom is always ready for a guest, and if there are two (or more) of you, we can adapt to that, too, so don't hesitate to give us a call and come see us.

I am teaching part time as adjunct faculty at Franklin University in downtown Columbus. I taught business Spanish last winter and, this fall, two sections of Intercultural Studies (international issues for business students). I also lead a Spanish language Bible study at the Newman Center for international students at Ohio State. As you can see, we stay busy.

22 Dec 96: Rosemary Wickham called for a long chat. She's 75, her birthday. She remembers Ben well. She's been to Ireland with 45 parishioners this year, to the Olympics, two hours away in Atlanta, and enjoyed a visit of Sr. Gwen who is currently working all over the diocese of West Virginia for one of the better bishops.

Rosemary's parish has a forward-looking 37-year-old priest, but has taken a lot of grief from the small, sad, self-righteous Sr. Angelica-attuned group who are so determined. Fortunately, a lot of them are moving away. Angelica, evidently, makes it her mission to instruct folks to tell their priests where they are going wrong. [So, what's new?]

She enjoys working with adults, doing a lot of Bible work with them and "they just love it." Eight from the parish went to hear Emmanuel?? McCarthy talk in Atlanta. He had taught at Notre Dame and quoted a lot from John McKenzie, author of "The Two Edged Sword" and "The Power and the Wisdom" that still have honored places on my bookshelf. But I haven't read them since the '60s.

Rosemary went to John Ostdieck's sister's 50th anniversary in the order this year and asked about and saw Vincent Elsen, pastor at Corpus Christi when she was there.

24 Dec 96 - Zehfuss Wald Late card-but loving wishes. Missing Ed so much especially during the holidays. There seems to be no closure for me. I do want to make a trip in the spring and spend some hours with you. Love Diaspora. Happy 1997.

24 Dec 96: Herb Wheatley (1961): For your ministry of communication I am enclosing my Christmas letter to family and friends. Some of my classmates may remember Dad from earlier days. Herb says that perhaps the most difficult event of the past year was the death of his dad on March 10th: "We buried Dad next to Mom in All Souls Cemetery in Chardon, Ohio. This is our first Christmas without Dad, so it is hard for us. We are grateful for the lives that he and Mom shared with us." There's other family and personal news of interest but you get a bit of the idea. Herb has long been a member of Santa Barbara province and I visited him when he was at the Sacramento mission, not far from the Skoniecznys.

I amy using his card, The Adoration of the Shepherds by El Greco, as a book marker.

24 Dec 96: Keith Eckrich It was a gentle day and even gentler evening this Xmas Eve. We had everyone present at dinner, a not common event with college-age kids. My mother, in trouper fashion, joined us also with bent over arthritic back and constant pain.

After dinner, Helene, Kristen and I enjoyed two well-known Albuquerque Xmas events. Hoffmantown Baptist Church, the largest in the city, presents a live Bethlehem tableau with costumed parishioners taking hour-long stints at the crib. Kristen's delight always is the animals: many this year: llamas, goats, sheep, a donkey and cows. The camel is fake. The actors stand perfectly still in awe of the child.

The other famous event is another tableau: a family spends hours and hours in decorating their house and front lawn with mechanized cartoon characters and lights galore. Many people converge, and traffic's at a standstill. Never seen is a grump: it's just a delight for young and old.

24 Dec 96: Gael Stahl: (Email form letter) Ben didn't make it. He was brought home to his family on Christmas Eve. Amy said that he was getting much the same treatment there as at the hospital and his death later in the day was a total surprise. He'd lost about 30 pounds and hadn't much eaten in past month.

Ben was our class #1 - our GP - Mr. Cool, an understanding listener, a marvelous storyteller, our far-sighted leader with the generosity of a brother, and a defender of the faith he had in us. He was not only a good brother and friend, but a good husband and parent. So talented. His life is his monument. RL Stevenson said it best: steel true -- blade straight.

25 Dec 96: Joe Zimmerman: Thanks for the message about Ben Skonieczny. It's a quiet Christmas afternoon. Vince's phone number is 217-525-0158. I'll tell him about Ben. Had breakfast with him yesterday morning, along with my friend Barb and his friend Barb. - Jack Hardesty was running around the house two hours ago with a printout of the latest Diaspora Digest. I didn't get to my email address. I really would appreciate getting it there, in place of the mailed version. You help me to remember the good of our heritage, and to criticize the bad.

26 Dec 96: Chris Reuter Did read the note about Ben's death until today. We've been praying for him. - We hadn't communicated for years, but I always had fond memories of our work together in the early days of T-Town. Ben and I did a program called "Viewpoint" on WCRA(P) in Effingham. We were on every Saturday morning at 11:30, right after the news by Zona B. Davis. We never could understand why, since we espoused every unpopular position in Southern Illinois, the K of C continued to ante up the money to sponsor us. We usually taped the program in advance, but once in a while we would do it live from the studio. On one such occasion Ben was supposed to introduce himself; then I was to introduce myself and start the commentary. The red light came on, and Ben began: "Hello, friends. This is Frater Protase. Some people have difficulty with my name. Some think it is Frater Protest . . . or even Frater Poor Taste." Then Ben pointed to me, at which point I could recall neither my name nor any idea of what I was going to talk about.

All segments of DD are coming through on email. There sure were an awful lot of LONG messages [we don't distill the email version much]. To tell the truth, it's hard on the eyes to read text on a Juno screen. [The idea is to print them out. Let us know if you want to hard copy version mailed to you. That goes for all of you. Which reminds me, Jack Bartz has sent many email letters that didn't make the digest. He prefers getting both versions.]

26 Dec 96: Bob Pawell I've been praying for Ben ever since I heard of the gravity of his situation-- I'm sure Jimmy Lyke was there at the door to greet him as well as Joe Bernardin, Henri Nouwen, Billy Stachura and my Mom. It is a sobering thought to realize that many of those you have known and loved have finished their journey on this side of the stars. Carlos Casteneda's character Don Juan once observed: "The man who lives with the thought of death does not make a wasted move." Memento Mori calls us to choice and Auden wrote: "the distresses of choice are our chance to be blessed!" Love DD helping us to know each other's stories and adventures.

26 Dec 96: Amy Skonieczny Thanks for all your concern and daily check-ins. I wanted to let you know that dad did come home on Monday, and unfortunately died on Christmas eve at 3:30 pm. I know this is absolutely shocking news as it is to all of us. We were all here when he died and frankly had no idea that was even a possibility so soon. However, I am so glad he was at home. He was so happy to be here. I can't express everything right now, but please call if you want. I have received so many e-mails from all the people you have contacted.

28 Dec 96 Bill Bergman sent a company newsletter update about their new training and learning opportunities from Bergman and Associates. They are settling into their new "home office" at Bill's residence in Bothell, WA.

29 Dec 96: Ralph Ruiz wrote: DD21 was a joy to read and keep in touch with all the Fratres. It means a lot to all of us. Rafael Ruiz, a class ahead of me, is mission director for ELCA Division for Outreach/assistant to the bishop, ELCA Southwestern Texas Synod.

29 Dec 96: Joe Smith (1945) A happy new year to all our brothers. I was recently reading about the Kelts (my forbears) and discovered that in addition to being warring, wining, and wenching folks, they were deeply artistic and spiritual - with a language that is still spoken in Irish, Scotch, Breton, and Welsh enclaves. Proud to be of the lineage, and it helps explain, at the least, a genetic base for some of our own "Don't tread on me" behavior. Even in a later Christian form they produced the quite 'pagan' art of the glorious Book of Kells. I understand their 'asceticism' matched the art and got closer to an ASKESIS that was a disciplined PRACTICE of the art-of-love, not its denial as some wraith-like 'sublimation.' (The old Keltic abbot-chiefs apparently sired quite a segment of the population.) Of course, none of this is for 'pious ears.' ("Hear no evil" --- or good?)

As you see by this calligraphy, I am still a low-tech boy. But my car and the church organ are high-tech and computerized. One of these days my two kids threaten to lock me in till I learn computer. They're experts in it.

My own vision of the Catholic Church antedates its modern splits and its Constantinism imperialism, when 'Catholic' meant simply UNIVERSAL. The urge for unity today seems based on a much broader and inclusive call to SHARE traditions and esp. insights (and actions) on peace and justice and real rather than rhetorical love. I would hope the saner and loving elements of ALL denominations would pull together on this. Of course, it would be a call for major reconstruction and (repentant) 'deconstruction', and simply LETTING GO in terms of Bach.'s chorale "Laesst Gott walten" (Let God prevail). I doubt it entails "all roads leading to Rome" unless there be quite a change of heart there (metanoia). I don't see such a change at work there now, even as there is indeed a transformation taking place in the majority of Catholic people.

Correction: Dignity (not Integrity) was the RCC gay group evicted by Vatican/Bernardin from ALL diocesan premises. Message they got was NOT one of 'love' or humanness.

[Next day:] Rup (Tony) mentions Presbyterians for RCC. This elicits an experiential response. My grandfather was elder and treasurer of First Presbyterian in Superior, Wis.; grandma taught Christian doctrine there, and dad pumped the old pipe organ for the organist. As ecumenical musician, raised by an Irish RC mother at St. Francis (OFM parish), I have played in many churches, including - besides RCC- several Presbyterian churches in the metropolitan area here. They also recite the creed and profess the Catholic faith, as in my earlier missive. So do Lutherans, NCC, Anglicans, et al. They do not identify it, however, with the RCC, as pre-reformed, even AS they welcome "our church" into a larger ecumenical Catholic perspective. What I've experienced as musician, is both the projection of the unity of churches in a healing and whole universal Catholicity, as well as actual fragmentation in need of just such healing. But health and wholeness call for dismantling of denominational biases (and structures supporting fragmentation), while acknowledging and rescuing recoverable core truths in whatever traditions. The mandate "that they all be one" makes this insight urgent. It's not happening at hieratic levels, but is with people as they search and research.

I personally am very proud of and grateful to our Irish Catholic tradition for all it did religiously and educationally for us and for such wonderful friends and teachers as Jim Ryan et al., "the best of the Irish." The RCC was and has been a treasure house of philosophy, theology (Cusanus et al!), science, music, and the arts, including great brilliant men in the hierarchy and clergy, women in teaching and caring for the sick, and saints like Francis of Assisi, who "naively" trusted a pope, Innocent III, (responsible for Inquisition and making Jews wear a yellow star) and yet founded a great order with luminaries like Scotus et al. Nevertheless, as I wrote above, the future calls for us to expand ecumenically, out of old wineskins, so that the new wine can be poured for all. This deconstruction and restructuring is an urgent necessity, if that mandate means anything at all. It's a matter of integrity.

These are the views gleaned from experience in the ecumenical community. Feedback welcome, fallible or otherwise.

31 Dec 96 - Bob Willford received only one page of the digest: How refreshing and fortifying to read the aggressive faith in Carol Stachura's letter one the one page that made it to my house. God, please let her faith be as contagious as necessary.

The Digest is something I sit down with as soon as it comes. It's almost like coming home to a surprise visit from an old and dear friend whom I never get to see often enough. So please send me another December 1996 issue. The contribution is to cover some postage.

31 Dec 96 - Luis Runde

Romance is part of loving that cannot be described: you see the silly parts of life, you giggle or ponder, you enjoy the mystery. I suppose I'm in a romance with the Tropics; here in our island paradise of Ometepe (Oasis of Peace) in Lake Nicaragua. We have just been here a month in our new home. We survived untold tortures of settling in. It is 1997, I wish you God's Blessing in your New Year.

One fear in my life was to be without a job, but that is groundless. I'm taking a small page from my journal to tell you about our life here, tongue in cheek. Irony is good seasoning. Do you fear this? Insects, spiders, flying critters? Come here, and you see the abundance of small life forms, learn to relax without light in the evening, and know this also is Prayer. Losing Weight? Come and see the pounds melt gracefully and gently. I moved back three notches in my belt. Dust? Come sample some of ours. In our garden volcanic ash spurts up in powder whenever I turn a hose on it. Grime, Mud, Volcanic Ash? We hose our dishes down before and after using them. In the rainy season (May) we will pray for the dry and fewer insects and winds. In my daily walks or on my bike I pray: Lord, make the cow pies and horse apples sweet, and may the dust blow to the other side. The Unknown? Yes, it takes a while to see and appreciate the little creatures and experiences. Communication in a new language? Even with some years of Spanish and sporadic other languages, the folks here have their dialect, and for this reason I'm taking off in January for a course of intensive language training. I believe that language skills are very personal and way down deep, next to the soul (pardon me, Jungians). Pray. New Friends? In the Third World, but with nothing to fear or to conquer. People here laugh easily, I learn to laugh at myself, again. It helps to pray. Being lonely? Yes, the long nights can be lonely. Being in a contemplative group I find my walks around the chapel from 8 to 9:30 evenings, help me to pray. Loss of contact with the news, scientific advances, social life? Somehow, these cease to be an issue. I realize that this is much more a blessing than I ever found it to be. We do not miss TV or movies. Separation from family? Yes, so I learn to write again. Maybe we all can. I know an old dictum: Sorrow shared is cut in half, a joy shared is doubled. Being without support? It is never an issue when doing God's work. Two days ago, the Brothers & Sisters of Charity wondered how we can help some serious needs here, and within that day we heard from California: 15,000 lbs. of food, clothing and seed is coming. This will put a big dent in one need. However, we find lacking on this island of 30,000: a sawmill, a really good power plant for the current needs, modern transport. I pray that we do not become insulated from the world. A hydrofoil is supposedly in service, too expensive for most folks. There is no airstrip. There are many criteria to judge where we are in terms of "conveniences." I have learned to live simply, that others may live. I want to say that I am happy doing this work in the forgotten part of God's green earth. I love the tropics and want to thank you for any part you wish to play in helping as we give prayerful support to the Orphans of Nicaragua. ("Nuestros pequenos hermanos" or Our Little Brothers & Sisters founded in Mexico by Fr. Wasson in 1954.) Letters may be sent c/o: Franciscan Missionary Union, 3140 Meramec Street, St. Louis, MO 63118-4339 and our local address (slow service, 60 cents per half ounce U.S. postage) is Apdo, Postal 48, Rivas, Nicaragua, Central America. We do have phone service, fax & e-mail, also.

1 Jan 97: Jim Tye Gael, got the email message and my daughter gave me the message that you called. Nice that you got the other names together and sent the province home page and the one you are setting up.

2 Jan 97: Tom Fox (1955): Belatedly, I really didn't ignore your challenge to write about how I got into Hispanic ministry.

After 25 years as a priest, I assessed what I thought I had to do. I was finishing up 7 years in social justice work at 8th Day Center and in the province. I knew I needed to learn Spanish as I wanted to travel in Latin America. The opportunity arose for a friar to go to El Salvador to help set up a month-long immersion and reflection program called Franciscan Central America Pilgrimage. I grabbed it and spent 1987-90 in Central America. After the November '89 offensive, which in part focused on the parish I was working in, we decided that the program would probably not be allowed to continue. I came back in June, 1990, and went to San Antonio to work with Cent. Am. refugees. Then I became associate to Gilberto Cavazos, OFM, at OLA. Berto went to Rome to study in '93. The province turned the parish back to the diocese (Capuchins from Spain work there now) and I came to the Indianapolis area with permission to look into Hispanic ministry.

More recent news: I'm just completing my first year of a three-year contract with St. Patrick's parish and the archdiocese as associate pastor with Hispanics. In other words, after 2 and a half years of working here with the Spanish speaking, I just "got legal" a year ago. I've been much calmer and happier this past year. In fact, I believe I am just where God seems to be telling me to be. The Hispanic community in Indianapolis is growing rapidly. I estimate about 25,000. I try to provide some options with 4 Spanish Masses on the weekend. Over 100 people have made an evangelization retreat and form 4 small communities which meet each week. However, I also get to be with my 92 year old Mother at least once a week. Since last lent I've been living with a community of 8 friars at Sacred Heart. In September I started a weekly class in Clinical Pastoral Education. I'm trying to become more aware of how I relate and fail to relate with others. I'm as excited as a kid in a chocolate store.

P.S. Just got the news that Gabriel Brinkman died at Effingham.

2 Jan 97 - Charles Gunti (1961) As one who hates computers, I appreciate your effort to edit all the mail. I'm still in the Army here at Ft. Carson. Great fun. Greetings to all when you send our next newsletter. Accept small amount to help with paper and postage. P.S. Isn't Tennessee great?

2 Jan 97 Angel & Joe Bizek: Have received our first copy of the newsletter and we are so pleased. It was good seeing you in Chicago. I've been thinking of Bill so often over the past weeks. He was really a blessing to us.

2 Jan 97: Frank Wildt Well, after reading 20 issues of the Diaspora, I figured it was time to join the discussion and at least let you know where we are. Life has treated us very well. Nancy and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary this year, and not being too solicitous of our four children, took them with us on our trip to celebrate our 25th. The two oldest are attending college, both at Jesuit colleges. Never in my wildest dreams would I have pictured that. Joanna is a junior at Georgetown and preparing for her winter semester in London. I can still remember my junior year and it was not in London! Kristin is a freshman at Boston College and has assured me that she has not bet on any football games, although the money we give her seems to disappear rather rapidly. John is a sophomore in high school and Lauren is in 6th grade, so we're going to be college-focused for a long time yet.

We have been in Connecticut for some 20 years now and have children who speak in "yankonics" (yankee phonics). I have had a very rewarding career at Andersen Consulting, where I have headed up some of our technology practice in the Northeast. Nancy has taught elementary school for the last four years and is taking a break this year, which pleases us all no end. While we all love the East, we do miss the warm and friendly spirit of the Midwest. I was saddened to hear of Bill Stachura's death and thought the tributes that were paid him in the last issue were very appropriate.

3 Jan 97: Eric Kahn I'm in Republic, Missouri - about 12 to 13 miles west of Springfield, MO - just 230 miles (door to door) from the good old provincial house. Republic is a small burg, about 6500 population. Coletta Wrasman, PHJC and I are renting from a small bunch of Franciscan sisters, who own 30 acres. We have a small house of prayer here. We also travel for preaching or directing retreats. I help out in the diocese when pastors phone. For the past ten years or so, I have been living in houses of prayer. That's because of the strong attraction to the contemplative dimension of our charism.

By the way, I never lived with Nick Meyer. That was Silas Musholt - a classmate. Silas now conducts tours of the Holy Land for interested parties - of which there seem to be many. He loves it.

I'm a reader. I appreciate the comments about those books - especially the one by James Hillman. I'll keep an eye out for it.

3 Jan 97 - Joan Porche: Jeni and I enjoyed the time together with Gael and Mike Mooney at the time of Bill Stachura's funeral. That weekend was certainly a spiritual journey down memory land with Bill.

Form letter: Better late than never. Jeni and I remembered you all at the Midnight Mass at Old St. Patrick's Church in Chicago on Christmas Eve, as we enjoyed the marvelous music and the beauty of the newly refurbished interior of St. Patrick's, the oldest Catholic church in Chicago. Seven layers of paint were removed to reveal the beautiful Celtic ceiling and wall designs originally painted during the 1800's. When you come to visit us, we'll plan to take you there for a wonderful experience of Celtic spirituality.

This past year has been a busy one for us. Jeni made 25 years in December and is carrying a heavy study and work load at college. She has also been tutoring nine students and teaching a creative writing class in the Fiction Writing Dept. at Columbia College. She loves her work.

This marks my 37th year in education and my 27th with the Chicago Public School System. I have spent almost 18 years at Morgan Park H.S. and still love school and the kids. One of my most gratifying times every year is taking about 100 kids (ages 14-18) out to a camp in the woods in Frankfort, IL for a week-end retreat. I love to see the impact this activity has on city kids. There are lots of great kids coming up.

4 Jan 97: Joe Zimmerman: I attended Gabriel Brinkman's funeral in Teutopolis yesterday. It was a good tribute to a man who was very important in my own story. He sent me to Harvard and gave up his job at Q.C. in 1984 so I could stay on here. But I could never talk with him very productively. He enjoyed arguing so much that it frustrated me.

5 Jan 97 - Phillip Windolph (1945): I left my first career as a Franciscan priest at the beginning of 1964 and went to teach in the public schools of Chicago (science & math) until my retirement in 1987. A few DD letters gave me some new insights this morning. We, human beings, deep down in our own individual consciences, never seem to completely eliminate the fear we have of each other. We want to be loved completely and unreservedly by others but our past experiences tell us that others misunderstand us and don't love us with that abandon. So, we crawl back into ourselves even though at the same time we keep making feeble attempts to get others to love us. The results of our efforts are varied. Some, unfortunately, withdraw from their fellow travelers. If we have someone we can trust with our inmost thoughts and desires we are lucky. Fortunately, some discover that someone who loves us unconditionally is Our Lord Himself through the gift of faith. Even then we, with St. Paul, St. Augustine and others, are still not satisfied until we finally rest in God. Meantime, "back at the farm", we constantly, consciously or unconsciously seek love from those we can see and communicate with on earth. A few of us left our first career in our quest. Some, both in and out of the fraternity, have learned that we can soothe and satisfy that hunger for love to an ever greater extent by following Our Lord's advice to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. We still have a fear of revealing ourselves completely but we strive to take the risks involved, buoyed up with the words of St. Paul: Love casts out all fear. Even though I am not interested in reentering the ministerial priesthood like Julian Woods, I still like to "preach" it seems.

Perhaps a brief list of my activities might be of interest. Taking Meals-On-Wheels with my wife, helping senior citizens fill out their income tax forms before April 15, and most recently teaching seventh grade CCD students, all occupy some of my time. House maintenance, gardening, playing the violin, reading NCR and other magazines and books, writing a novel, writing letters to newspaper editors and others, along with simply being with my wife pretty well fills up my days.

Being an introvert is my excuse for not making more personal contacts with those in the diaspora. As Fr. Edward Lutz, our ancient history teacher at St. Joe's once told me, I write a pretty good paper but I'm a lousy speaker. So I hide behind the pen. Greetings to all and may our God lead us ever closer to Him/Herself.

7 Jan 97 Carroll Mizicko sent a newsletter. Greetings from Monroe! Life is busy but fulfilling here at Little Flower. The parish is going well but the future of the school is very uncertain. Our enrollment has dropped off the past three years and we are down to just 108 students in a three-year-old through 8th grade program. The parish is continuing to thrive with a vibrancy and life that is exciting and we are collaborating with five Catholic Churches in the Monroe area to avoid duplication of efforts until Rome hopefully allows the opening up of ordination to all of God's people and that will make better use of the tremendous gifts and talents of those that have left the priesthood and religious life. I don't anticipate any change under the current Pope.

Mother had to be moved to Villa Franciscan. She is not doing well mentally at all. She will be 89 in March so we need to give thanks for having her with us so long. I got DD#20 via E-mail. I also have very fond memories of Bill Stachura from the seminary and from when he worked with us for a brief time at St. Thomas in Memphis when Jim Lyke was pastor. At that same time, Mel Griffith was there and they made quite a combination. Lots of fun and good times.

My best to everyone and if you are ever in the Monroe area, be sure to stop. We are just a block off of I-20 at the Texas Avenue exit.

7 Jan 97: Pam Kimlinger Wanted to let you know that my husband, Mel, has been diagnosed with a malignant lymphoma and will be starting chemo on Jan. 21 in Santa Barbara. Next, a possible bone marrow transplant. He has a Stage 3 lymphoma but is asymptomatic. He probably has had it for about 2 years the doctor thinks. Thank heavens he had what appeared to be a kidney stone the day after Thanksgiving and more pain the following Wednesday so they did an abdominal ultra-sound and found many tumors. There are no cures but hopefully they can get him into a long remission before it comes back again. We are still hopeful that we can get back for the summer gathering. Love to all. [No word about a reunion so far.]

7 Jan 97: Vince Zimmerman established internet contact. His address is

8 Jan 97: Bob Pawell Dear "Kind Classmates, and Interested companions who by consoling word and edifying example have taught me to follow in your footsteps!"

Happy New Year. Here are some gifts for the New Year and Carnival Season--you can take a guy out New Orleans but you cannot take twenty years in New Orleans out of a guy! [Here Bob quotes the Concluding Narrative and Chorus from W.H. Auden's Christmas oratorio, "For the Time Being," it is well worth reading. Bob or Jack Brennan will be glad to send it to you electronically.]

Spirituality of Mardi Gras: Bob Pawell, OFM

The title of this essay seems almost a contradiction in terms: Mardi Gras and spirituality. Perhaps it is the combination of our nation's Puritan past with Catholic fundamentalism that makes Mardi Gras and spirituality seem so foreign. Allow me to spin out some musings on the liturgical and archetypal foundations of the Mardi Gras and its significance with the spiritual journey.

During the liturgical season of Advent we contemplate the coming of the Reign of God. Situated between the grace of what has already been realized: "Christ has died, Christ is risen" and what, nevertheless, awaits fulfillment: "Christ will come again," Advent naturally focuses itself around the birth of the "Divine Child." This is not only a recollection of the baby born in Bethlehem two thousand years ago, but more importantly that child we are to become like if we would enter the kingdom of God. By virtue of the incarnation, we are offered the life of God. To receive this we must become like little children, for it is to such as these that the Kingdom of God belongs. The gift and grace of Christmas brings to the believer a sense of wonder and awe, thankfulness and praise. These are the prerequisites which call us "to come and adore" Christ the Lord. Although we meet the child in the Christmas feast, most of us, like true westerners, abandon the child on the day after Christmas. We enlist with Herod's soldiers and "search out and destroy" Bethlehem's babes. Like a discarded Christmas tree, the "Child" is left out on the curb or, at best, to "save our wetlands."

In New Orleans, however, culture holds a spiritual value for the Carnival Season which culminates on Mardi Gras. Carnival traditionally begins with Twelfth Night, the liturgical memorial of the Epiphany or manifestation of the Divine Child to the Nations. The feast speaks of those who search for the "Baby." There are three journeys in an individual's life and these are signified by the three magi/kings.

The first journey takes place in the bloom of one's youth when we are filled with the enthusiasm of our life project [literally: to be filled with God, from the Greek en-theos]. We are doing "our bliss." This is the journey of Caspar with the gift of "gold." In all the fairy tales, young men and women are associated with the "Golden Ball."

There is a second journey to the Child that occurs in mid-life, the journey of Balthasar, the Dark Other who bears the gift of frankincense. In mid-life we are led to deal with our "accommodated self"--the persona behind which our authentic self has been hiding. This encounter necessarily involves a deep encounter with what Jung called "the shadow," our dark side. The mid-life journey involves the reconciliation of opposites and the healing of the split at the center of our souls. Mid-life travelers "walk humbly with their God." The humble walk on the path of self knowledge is a true way of the "cross" which reveals to them not only the dark-side but a presence of God so profound and intimate that they are led to adore, perhaps for the first time in their life. This is the discovery of frankincense. God in mid-life is found within our own house; the feverish pace of youth slows, action becomes contemplative, happiness is an inside job and we adore.

There is yet a final journey occurring near life's ending. It is the journey of Melchior who comes bearing the gift of myrrh. In the iconography of the Epiphany, this "king" is most frequently pictured as both the eldest and closest to the Child; he is shown on-all-fours before the Infant being presented to him by its Mother. This one has doffed his crown, he has cast aside human respect and reputation and has become like a little child.

He has passed through mid-life and embraced the "Dark Other". He is facing death and has come to terms with his broken and shattered dreams. He has done his grief work -- buried his dead, mourned his losses, he no longer needs "embalming fluid" [myrrh]: he gives it as gift. Furthermore, having faced death he speaks from a place of gentle and quiet truth. He tells the truth in a strong, clear voice, frequently touched with a gentle sense of humor. He speaks wisdom.

New Orleanians celebrate carnival by taking the "holy communion" of the King Cake decorated in the colors symbolic of the three kings' gifts: purple, green, gold--myrrh, frankincense and gold. At our "King Cake" parties the lucky one discovers the Divine Child, "The Baby," in his/her piece of cake--and so week after week we are nourished on the gift of the Divine Child no matter where we are in our journey. If we have not abandoned the Child and if we have meditated through the carnival season on these holy mysteries, then on Mardi Gras, we shall be able to "play in public"--re-created in a new creation, that of the honored Child.

Unfortunately few do this inner work; consequently, Mardi Gras becomes the acting-out of the repressed Dark Other, the abused Child, real "wreck-re-ation." I hope your carnival is happy and re-creative! Blessings for 1997!

8 Jan 97: Pam Kimlinger I don't know of any specific date for a summer reunion but thought that there usually was one each summer somewhere in the mid-west. We are going back, hopefully, for my parent's 50th Anniversary Celebration after Mel gets finished with the chemo. Let me know if you hear of any definite plans.

8 Jan 97: Gene Katoski Here is the January 1996 issue of our Senior Friars Talk. It's in return for the Digest #20. I always enjoy it and read every word from beginning to end. God Bless all the Fringe Friars.

Gene tells a Jo Windolph joke: A high school instructor asked the class, "Why do toadstools grow in clumps?" Because, said a student, "Because there isn't mush room." Laughter. He added, "I can't help it. I'm a fun gi." More laughter. Then the student completed his verbal hat trick. "I'm sorry, I know it was in spore taste." - There was also an article about a study on the therapeutic value of laughter and a favorite limerick:

	A wonderful bird is the pelican,
	His beak holds more than his belly can.
	He takes in his beak
	Enough food for a week.
	But I'm darned if I know how the hellican.

	[Odo Schmalz used to chant a parody of the foregoing in his 
        wondrously deep tones:

	What a wonderful bird is a Franciscan,
	His capuche holds more than his belly can.
	He puts it in his cowl,
	Where he keeps it for a while
	But I don't know how the hell he can. - JB]

9 Jan 97: Vince Zimmerman ...We bought a house in Alabama on the Gulf in 1994, and we've been taking our vacations there while fixing it up. [Hope that's an invitation.] - I spent several months in language school [in Brazil] with Ben so I always did want to talk with him now to see what he remembered. I think our experiences were quite different. So it made me think it was time to say hello to the others who can still answer. [I replied asking Vince to remind me of the chronology of the various times our classmates got ordained and to fill in the Brazil details.]

9 Jan 97: Tarsicius Fischer: Cardinal Bernardin was the best bishop in the country. I thought that if James Lyke were living he would be a perfect successor.

I talked last night to Daniel Mazar. He informed me that Papa Zangs was being buried this very day. Fr. Raymond (Marnan) is being buried today in Texas where he spent his entire. All that remains of his class are Gentil Katkoski, Bede Middendorf and Cecil Koop. Do you know whether Earl Williams is dead or alive? He told me that he would write to me after his departure. [Repeated requests have not put us in contact with Earl.]

A Joyous Christmas and a Healthy, Wonderful New Year. I do mean the word healthy. We all have some physical ailment. I am addicted to Mevacor and Isosorbide tablets. Their purpose is to reduce cholesterol. The doctor claims my cholesterol is high, but he is not concerned on account of my age.

Form letter: It has been a hectic year. Much activity. Our ordination class celebrated our golden jubilee. Fr. Finian McMullin suggested a trip to Alaska at the beginning of July. I wasn't sure I could make the trip, but the doctor gave me his approbation and wanted to join us. He arranged the surgeons for my five operations because I am unsteady on my feet. I had my surgeries at Columbus Hospital that Mother Cabrini founded in 1917 and died there.

Then our class from Marquette High School had its 60th anniversary this year. It was a joy to see my classmates. Of 48 to graduate we had about 17 or 18 for the occasion. On June 20th, Fr. Boniface and I celebrated our golden anniversary at St. Peter's. Our superior, Fr. Francis Jerome, pushed and cajoled me to make a trip to visit our retired friars in Crowley, Texas, close to Fort Worth and Dallas. I surely had a lovely time with the retired friars. Fr. Callistus took me to an exclusive ballet in Fort Worth. The performance was spectacular. In the same evening we saw two exquisite Japanese dancers. Finally we saw the play "Death of a Salesman" on its last performance.

As a little side issue, the fathers told me that two Episcopalian priests turned Catholic after studying Catholic theology. I doubt whether it was much of a struggle as their religion is so much like ours. One of these two after he turned Catholic brought his entire parish into the Catholic faith. The other was married and had children and is now a Catholic pastor and the attendance in his church has multiplied.

To all of you, be sure to drop in at St. Peter's if you come to Chicago.

12 Jan 97: Jack Bartz The following [Edited by JB] article seemed to me to be quite accurate as far as how the process works for selecting a successor to Bernardin in Chicago. If you so desire, you may re-send it for the reading pleasure of those e-mail people who have an address in the Diaspora Network Bulletin Board.

Title of article: "Bernardin Successor Still Hidden In Silence: Secrecy Blocks Out All But a Few Clues" by Louise Kiernan and Steve Mills, Tribune Staff Writers (Chicago Tribune, 1/5/97)

"...In the Catholic Church, only the storied secrecy surrounding the pope's own election exceeds that involved in the selection of an archbishop. And so it is that, although the interlude following the death of Nov. 14 of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin may seem uneventful, it conceals the bustle of discreet activity attendant to naming his successor.

"Publicly, the subject of Chicago's new archbishop-who may already have been picked-has sparked its share of speculation in the Catholic and secular press, with church-watchers and even gossip columnists trading prelates' names like they were so many Hollywood hopefuls. But all the talk likely has little connection to what's happening behind the scenes.

"Even as the church hierarchy in Rome pores over dossiers on candidates that can reach a foot thick, lay people and religious groups from all points on the theological spectrum are lobbying for and against candidates.

"Chicago Catholic Women, for example, is urging the pope to pick a woman-undaunted that, even though the pope can effectively name anyone he wants, the Catholic Church has yet to allow women to become priests, let alone archbishops.

"...The most casual mention of someone as a possible successor to Bernardin is likely to provoke from him an unsolicited avowal of contentment along the lines of this statement issued by Michael J. Sheehan, archbishop of Santa Fe:

" 'I don't want to be anyplace but here,' reads Sheehan's press release. '... I've unpacked all my bags, and besides all of that, the Archdiocese of Santa Fe can't afford another installation for a new archbishop.'

"True or not, this statement, echoed by a handful of other prominent bishops and archbishops in recent months, is a standard gesture in the anti-politics of the Catholic Church.

"Not only is it considered unseemly for bishops to display ambition, it verges on heresy. If the pope makes a decision through divine inspiration, who is a bishop to campaign against God's candidate?

"...Only this much can be reliably predicted about the pope's decision: When Bernardin's successor is chosen, Pope John Paul II is likely to announce his name from the Vatican at noon on a Tuesday.

"...Typically, the pro-nuncio, the Vatican's representative to the church in the United States, submits a list of three names and lots of background material to the Congregation for Bishops in Rome. The congregation votes, and its leader presents the choice to the pope during a regular Saturday meeting. The pope usually makes his decision on the spot, confirming the choice or picking someone else.

"He can suggest additional candidates for review or ask officials for more information. The three Americans in the congregation will likely wield some influence, too, especially New York Cardinal John O'Connor, who has been labeled a 'king maker.'

"O'Connor, who was sometimes critical of Bernardin, will want someone more conservative, experts say.

"...In the absence of real information on how the Vatican thinks, theories flourish. The most prevalent and reasonable of these posits that the pope will select a conservative to replace the moderate Bernardin and send a message to Chicago progressives.

"That is what happened in San Francisco in 1995, when Archbishop John R. Quinn retired and was succeeded by William J. Levada, who had worked for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the Vatican congress leading the pope's theological crackdown.

"Similarly, the appointment of Justin F. Rigali as archbishop of St. Louis was seen as part of the pope's practice of promoting his loyalists...

"Labels, however, can be misleading. Virtually all ranking churchmen are faithful to Vatican doctrine. No leading bishop, no matter how liberal, supports abortion or is particularly vocal about ordaining women.

"...Distinctions arise from more subtle issues, like a bishop's willingness to meet with groups that advocate unorthodox views or how aggressively he enforces church policies.

"Few are considered as unyielding as Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz of Nebraska, who has threatened to excommunicate Catholics who belong to organizations whose goals conflict with traditional church teachings.

"Bishop Anthony Pilla of Cleveland could be viewed as more liberal because he has met with groups like Future Church, which supports ordination of women and married men.

" 'He's not a my-way-or-hit-the-highway kind of bishop, like a lot of them are,' said Sister Christine Schenk, a Future Church founder. 'That's important.'

"...The hometown theory would work in the favor of two Chicagoans: Archbishop James Keleher, of Kansas City, and Bishop Edward M. Egan, of Bridgeport, Conn., both of whom served substantial stints of their careers here.

"...Then again, Chicago has never had a hometown archbishop.

"... What they-re looking for, church-watchers often say, is Jesus with an MBA.

"In early December, the Chicago priest-novelist-sociologist Rev. Andrew Greeley wrote in his syndicated column that he had heard O'Connor was 'pushing strongly' for his candidate, Buechlein.

"Greeley didn't cite his sources, and O'Connor's people say the claim is 'without foundation' but, if nothing else, the column illustrates the self-perpetuating nature of the guessing game.

"Greeley's column prompted a front-page story in the Indianapolis Star, saying there was growing speculation that Buechlein would replace Bernardin. Among the supporting evidence was the fact that the Chicago Tribune had included Buechlein in a list of a dozen possible candidates for the job.

"Despite the widespread speculation, many observers think the name of Bernardin's successor is just as likely to come as a surprise. One aide to a U.S. bishop even offered to bet against anybody's best guess, so certain was he that no one can out think the pope.

"...Though candidates rarely decline a post, they can say no. In his book 'Archbishop,' Reese writes that there is even a standard phrase of refusal: 'After having consulted with my spiritual father, I respectfully decline.'

"But the pressure to accept is strong. In Lipscomb's case, for example, the letter did not include a coded message to turn down the Mobile archdiocese.

"Lipscomb said he gave his parent and sister just a few minutes' notice before the official announcement came early in the morning.

"They gathered in his mother's hospital room, and he told his family the news. There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Then, his mother said, 'Well, God help us all.' "

14 Jan 97-Ostdiek I am officially transferred to the Hospital Sisters of St. Francis as a part-time chaplain at their Franciscan convent in Springfield, IL. My new address is: Laverna Road, P.O. Box 19431, Springfield, IL 62794-9431. I'm excited about the move. The work as a chaplain will occupy me part-time, and give me blocks of 3-4 hours at a time throughout the week for me to pursue my dream of writing and putting things on a web page in cyberspace. Hope our paths cross sometime. If ever you motor along I-55 at Springfield, do drop in for a spell.

17 Jan 97 Carroll Mizicko sent information I'd requested: 1220 N. Edmer, Oak Park, IL 60602, H-708/386-0948, W-312/467-3725. Email is

20 Jan 97 - Dan Dolesh sent a disk and as well as paper copy: in case the disc didn't transfer to my computer - Bless him!

I got your note about the death of Ben Skon. Seems like yesterday that we were all playing in the sunshine without a care in the world (well, not those kinds of cares.) I've been meaning to write you for several years while reading the digest avidly. It keeps us all a little more Francis-like.

My life? I remember talking with [former philosophy professor] Camillus Vahl once and he said to me, "Dolesh, you lead your life like someone hanging from a cliff by his fingernails. That's who you are, accept it." By damn, he was right. Here's a quick outline.

After I left the seminary (right before diaconate) I went straight to Catholic U. in Washington, D.C. to get an S.T.L. I had an exclaustration decree of some sort so that I could live as a layman but stay in the community. I lived with Honorius Crites, Andy Hanfland, Solono Flores, Allan Wolter, and a couple of other friars I can't recall in a house on Michigan and Monroe right off the campus. It was the 60s and I went to all the marches, discovered love, became disgusting liberal. After a year Germaine Schwab, the Provincial, came and said, "Dan, what direction?" I told him that what I was looking for was outside the walls, not inside. We parted good friends.

Shortly thereafter, several friars came to Washington and officiated at my wedding (I seem to recall Gael, Charlie Bloss, Charlie Faso, maybe Chuck Gunti, Terry Brennan). [Gael and Jack missed that.] I then left to do lay missionary/development work in Mexico and Bogota, Columbia. While I was in South America some Washington friends called me and told me that Clyde Ebenreck (a close friend of mine in D.C.) was hit by a car and in the hospital. "Where was he?" I asked. "Oh, he was attending the Provincial's funeral {Germain} and he told the person who he was with, 'You walk on the far side of the road. You have a habit on and they won't be able to see you as well.' How typically Clyde. So I left my pregnant wife in Bogota and jumped on a plane to come back to the States to see Clyde, stopping on the way to visit Dan Tanna and Scot Langan (recently ordained) in San Antonio. Clyde survived, I returned to South America, had my first child in Bogota and not long thereafter I returned to Catholic University to finish up a doctorate in theology.

I had four more children, worked for the U.S. Bishop's Conference, taught in the Washington Theological Coalition, was a dean in a University in Miami, ran a government funded institute in Washington, D.C., I also worked in a factory, as a migrant worker picking strawberries and cutting weeds for the city. My wife left me and the children along the way (whom I raised for the next ten years) and finally I moved to Cleveland (where I had a radio show and taught at John Carroll) and eventually started a counseling practice, which is what I do today. Along the way I wrote some books, and am now serious devoting my life to learning about sailboats. Nuts with the work! Life is too short, the sweet days too few.

Of course I am still a Franciscan even though I don't wear the habit and don't do the vows. I preach Thoreau and poverty and constantly use my Francis and seminary stories in doing therapy. I have more stories about past Franciscan life and present encounters, but those will have to wait for another letter. At this point I have to put this in the mail or it will never go to you. Pax et Bonum.

P.S. Gael, I remember you with fondness and great affection. Have you changed? [This interesting question deserves a very complicated answer: No, thank God. JB]

20 Jan 97: Bob Pawell In response to Gael's questions about my current areas of ministry and the interface with my past ministry with the gay community, I am continuing my ministry to the gay and lesbian community and especially those infected and affected by HIV/AIDS. I really would like to develop some programs for HIV NEGATIVE guys. Currently I am concluding three Monday evenings on the spirituality of Carnival-Mardi Gras [Jan 7: 12th Nite --the three journeys to the Holy Child. Gold, Frankincense and Myhrr; Jan 13: The archetypes of the "Child" and the "Lover;" Jan 21: The archetypes of the "Shadow" and the "Mask." Ever since my arrival in town in July most of my energy has been around the house--getting set up. Starting next month, I shall be on the road about 14 days every month from now till July. The activities will involve retreats: guided, preached, directed; a workshop, a retreat for folks with AIDS/HIV in the Louisville area, for the Provincial Regional Meetings in St. Paul and Wisconsin.

20 Jan 97 Medard Buvala: I marvel at the bonding among all the erstwhile first order Franciscans themselves and also with the current first order members, like me. Except I haven't been doing my part. I've often thought of writing. I've been anxious to get to some of the get- togethers. Sadly nothing happens. Something seemingly gets in the way of my good intentions. I could write a book or at least a sizable brochure about the Franciscan 60's and 70's. About what guys like you and me and rest did and experienced. I'm in an experimental Alzheimer's study conducted by Rush-Presbyterian, Chicago. My own memory is good. I'd remember, if I tried.

Gael, one of the stories I have repeated over and over again is your "heresy trial" in the T- Town seminary. I don't know if that is what it was, but it had all the appearances of the same. The faculty did not know whether you believed in the Trinity of not. The faculty called you to meet with them around a round table. Upstairs in the rec room. I was present more as an observer than anything else. I think I was guardian then. You and the faculty went round and round and round, always ending up at the starting gate. And what was I thinking? I was baffled. I think the trial ended up in a hung jury.

After it was all over, I asked you to walk around the pond with me. The long and short of our walk was that I asked you something like this: "when the faculty asked you if you believed in the Trinity, why in the world couldn't you say 'yes'?" I expected a long Gaelian convoluted explanation and theological discourse. Instead you innocently answered with a question of your own. "Is that what they were trying to ask me?" I wanted to jump into the pond to commit suicide, but managed to say, "yes, that's what they wanted." You said, "sure, I could have." My commentary every time I tell this tale goes something like this: That's how much Gael's thought patterns differed from the faculty's mode of thinking. The two sides kept talking right past each other all through the dialoguing all morning long. Now, whenever I retell of this intriguing academic skirmish, someone inevitable breaks in with the comment: "or as Gael's thought patterns differ from all normal people like the rest of us." And just think, Gael, you came from the wheat fields of Kansas. Or was it Nebraska? Herb Rempe from that same locality admits to being related to you. Honest. I've always enjoyed you. Most people do, though they can't explain why. That could be the start of the book I may write when I retire and collect my memories. I think it would sell well.

About Ben Skonieczny. Judy Mooney called me that Ben had died. The call shocked me. Ben and I did a lot of things together, most of them, strange as it may seem, by happenstance. I've always loved the guy. First, Ben was destined, it seemed, to marry a Franciscan nun. I don't know all the antecedents, but I do know that Ben did some ministry with the poor at Pruett Igoe in St. Louis. There he met a Dubuque Franciscan. I can't remember her name. I know that they were close to each other. Ben was eventually ordained to the priesthood. Wouldn't you know his first assignment was to teach at St. Elizabeth's Academy for girls in St. Louis. It presented Ben with a dilemma. But let's back up a bit. The ordained classes in those days spent the first year after ordination in West Park for an introduction into ministry. It had by now become an iffy year, because the newly ordained had already had a good deal of pastoral ministry in their final year of theology.

Anyway comes this assignment for Ben in St. Louis. Ben realized it would present a threat to his priesthood if he went to St. Louis. He was quite vocal and public about it. He asked me what he ought to do. We talked about his dilemma and decided to ask the provincial to change his assignment. Which the Provincial gladly did. But there was the unfinished business of informing the Dubuque Franciscan that all was off.

Ben said in no way could he tell her. He felt writing or calling her was too impersonal or worse yet cold. Nor could he see her face to face. He asked me to go to St. Louis to do it for him. I said to Ben "that is preposterous." He begged and he begged. I finally consented to go, but very reluctantly. Now, how to get to St. Louis. We couldn't tell Henry Freiburg, the vicar, why I wanted to go to St. Louis and immediately. We decided to tell him I was going on a conscience matter. Which was true. I told Henry that. Like a good trooper he didn't ask any questions. I must have driven, because I have no recollection of going to and from airports. I arrived, nervous as the proverbial cat. I figured the best way to get through the ordeal was to get to the point immediately. I was afraid of a tirade or something of the sort. To my utter surprise, though she was stunned, she took it bravely. Her face dropped. She cried in an undertone then collected herself. She was very gracious about the whole thing. I wanted to leave the apartment as soon as possible.

After a few consoling (?) words, I made a move to leave. She said "you can't leave this late in the day." I figured I'd find a motel and go to West Park the next morning. She said "you can stay here with me." I said "how is that possible? You have only one bed." She said "You can use mine and I'll sleep on the couch." She would not hear of anything else. I felt like a fool. She then said she had to go to bed early, since she had the early shift at work. She was a lab technician.

She ended the conversation saying, "I'll have a coffee pot on the stove and cereal on the table. Help yourself to the fridge. Just be sure that you lock the door behind you as you leave." Then she kissed me goodnight. I've not heard from her since nor do I know what happened later in her life. I often wondered. I get a lump in my throat when I think of her. She was so bafflingly gracious, though wounded by my message.

What I did for Ben I now think was stupid, but I would not trade it for anything as I saw in her a wellspring of grace that overwhelmed me then. It still does. The saga does not end there. Ben went to Joliet, again to teach in a girls' academy. There he met Kay. I had known Kay earlier. I don't know the circumstances. The rest is history. I wrote Kay after I heard of Ben's death.

As I said, I could write a book about all the guys who somewhere and at sundry times were with me over and beyond the T-Town days. They were under me, over me, through me and went by me in those days. I know that if the guys who write for DD would recall episodes for me about happenings at TT, I could write a best seller. A little reminder about this event and that event would stir my memory. I could fill in the details from my own perspective, probably different from yours.

[Well, I can't think of anyone's perspective I'd rather hear than Medard's. So, please, give him a clue to your story and let him fill in the details. Provoke Medard's memory, and you will strike a gold stream. He has offered to write the book we've all hungered to read, a mind with whom we'd give an elbow to connect with. If Medard doesn't hear from five people a week, the diaspora has the soul of a turnip.

Incidentally, Med is right about my thought processes. I wrote a memoir, a book I self- published, "Peckerwood Pilgrimage," 15 years ago. It was 1981, 15 years after the event Medard describes. My account there shows that I still didn't get it. I still thought the theological faculty and I were arguing the merits of on-going revelation (me) versus the deposit of faith in the apostolic tradition.

1981, Gael Stahl's version of the Heresy Trial [Best read in a semi-faulknerian trance, but don't miss this wonderful piece from "Peckerwood Pilgrimage. JB]

...Grady sees more divinity in a runted tree or sucker beetle than in a catechism or full pew but he has a healthy respect for all things that humans reverence and need. One night he, Noreen, and I gathered around a similar campfire on the third day of a five-day hike on the appalachian trail many thousands of feet above where we sat on the mountain top tonight, and he asked me seriously, not as a friend asks a friend, but as a seeker asks a teacher who presumes to have a considered opinion about affairs: "What do you make of it all, then? What is it all about?" I'd spent years studying the biblical, theological, and philosophical answers to that question, but as I began to mumble about the god within us without any poetry or fervor of belief, I experienced a hollow realization that I could no better formulate the ineffable than those we held responsible for lame articulations of their own. Grady said simply: "Shit, Stahl, you don't know any more than the rest of them." That was the second last nail in the crisis of my priestly vocation. I have devoted about twice the number of years it takes a person to become an M.D. to the study of the ultimate questions. If I had a strong point, I would have thought it was there. My obsession to go on studying and reflecting on the religious, spiritual spheres of our human experience in various cultures and times, including the Christian, jewish, hindu, buddhist, aztec, yaqui, mormon, islamic, nationalistic, roman, teutonic, greek, and near-eastern myths, phenomenon, rites and scriptures, has brought me to the pyrrhic feeling that any belief structure is learnable and workable for a folk but that when they all collapse with us at the great cosmic compression and the universe condenses once again into a small incredibly dense mass, the primal energy will bang out an entirely new creation or dream and Isis, Buddha, Jesus, Yahweh, and Mohammed will be as existent or non-existent as euclidian geometry. It exists because you need it and it works to a point. But it is no more absolute than the human mind; though that says a lot. We exist. We are also the dream being dreamt by some energy field that exists, some dreamer who needs us as components for a love dream. Learning to speak brought consciousness to our playing, and it made us human. What the next step to beyond the human is, is anybody's guess. The oddsmakers say it will have something to do with love, community, unification. I had to admit I didn't know even that much; I just believed also. Till then, I'd been a brother priest of Jesus and had that to share. But as for grasping the expression of the cosmic god behind the popular pantheon of current gods, I had no better collective myths to offer than they and a confused personal myth to live.

Grady and Noreen could with equal validity take meaning from Jung or Edgar Cayce, nutritional food and vitamin supplements, transcendental meditation, karate or nature, or the cosmology of the american indian.

As of that night on the appalachian trail, we were co-equal seekers for what we hold most sacred in this existence. On that night, Grady probably summed it up in words that I can never get on paper the way he says it: Friend, it is a matter of our love.

That is also probably the way Jerry Klein and I last summed up our ten-year search for the answer to the question: "Why is there being rather than non-being, something rather than nothing?" But love is a process, not an answer. Still, I'm ready to call off the search, Jerry. I cease to ask why this earth, this infinite cosmos exists, or what the meaning of it is. We're in this dream and the dreamer is too far removed for us to get anything more than all these odd hints from analyzing science, synthesizing ideologies and religions, intimating dreams and visions, mystical flights and stoned trips, folk magic, and liturgical poetry, prophetic incantations and theosophical guides. We're fetuses in the womb of nature yet, or in the childhood of human development at best, like adolescents trying to assemble a Ford pickup. Life is not so much a meaning to be learned as it is a myth to be created and lived. The waters of experience flow through us, poetic symbols that we are in this fabulous dream, creating the dreamer, creating god by being god, as we go along together adding to the collective myth.

At a certain point, individuals like the first ones who made communicative sense from sound symbols, stand up with their reversible thumbs, and as dumb quadrupeds human beings declare they are somebody. Someday our computer-connected brains will surpass present human existence and we will be launched on the second watershed, post-human experience.

That's the kind of thinking that nearly got me defrocked within a year of my ordination. I very inopportunely tried to sum up my theological explorations in such terms during final oral exams only to have the dogma prof declare I didn't believe in God (Yahweh) the Trinity and flunked me. I'd never had a D or an F before but this wasn't a normal F as the rector of the seminary, Father Medard, a slight, saintly, intellectual people's man who resembles the pictures of St. Francis of Assisi, came to my room to tell me. He stood there, shook his head and wondered aloud how in my last possible chance to eight-six myself, I did. In four years of daily classes and in my sermons they had picked up suspicions but not until this final, routine oral exam did two of the three panel of examiners realize the extent of my lack of orthodox expression about God and revelation.

Basically, I refused to admit that (the great cosmic) god (that pre-existed and would long survive Yahweh and Jesus as acceptable symbols of itself) had ceased to reveal itself during the apostolic age. So when I was asked in the exam if I believed in God, I foolishly responded, off guard, I guess I supposed I did. Then I was asked my definition of the god I guessed I supposed I believed in. I went in too deep and brought out from some personalistic formulation of Emmanuel Mounier or Nedoncelle the idea that God is that which is at the core of human existence propelling humans to meet and form community.

I had a heck of a time explaining revelation and the deposit of faith in those terms. Such spluttering in that situation deserved an F, I suppose [from a brilliant theology and scripture professor, who while he was a practicing alcoholic, had inspired much of our class's theological explorations]. The liturgical history professor gave me a C and said he wasn't sure what I believed. [Not bad and to be expected from a distant cousin on my mother's side.] The moral theology prof said he was sure he didn't know what I was talking about and gave me a B.

The upshot was a general faculty conference wherein it was decided I should be 'failed' and that there were serious enough grounds to consider refusing me faculties (i.e., authorization) to hear confessions and preach. I was to write up a summary of my theological beliefs and submit a copy to each of the faculty members after which I would be interviewed by the faculty in plenary session.

"How much time do I have, Med?" I asked. - "Day after tomorrow." I stammered something about not caring a fig about hearing confessions but that preaching was important to me, a necessary podium to fight discrimination and the war spirit of the times.

I was stunned but strangely composed. Such crises have worked energetic miracles for me at times and I felt OK. To gather my thoughts, I borrowed a motor bike from a friend across the street and spent nearly the whole next day driving alone along deserted country roads around Teutopolis. After supper, I watched some Nicaraguan dancers and musicians perform live in our refectory.

The following morning after breakfast, I sat down at a typewriter and began composing my paragraphs of belief. From my typewriter the sheets went down one by one to an assembly line of comrade scholars. One checked for theological clarification, others for clarity of expression and meaning and grammar, then to another who re-typed it on stencils and on to the last who reduplicated it on the mimeograph machines. At 1:30 p.m. I slid the final copies under the doors of each professor and began walking and clarifying my thinking with more lucid-minded students than myself as we circled the pond and playing fields again and again. My memory these years later recalls Dick Mayer, but he was in Champagne-Urbana getting a doctorate in physics or higher mathematics, so perhaps I've short-circuited to other equally interesting conversations.

I also recall Ben Skonieczny but he was in Brazil then. So I assume it was Don Awerkamp or John Behl with whom I have logged many hours discussing theological matters and other more relevant topics. It's not the first time the memory storage system in the old cranium has misclassified a microfilm or memory chip.

At four o'clock, our mini-inquisition gathered. It was a serious but fraternal exchange. I was wanting faculties to preach and they were wanting to be reassured. As Medard later said, he asked them, what were they to do with me anyway? I was already ordained; I wasn't easily disposed of, like a book relegated to the vault for books on the Index of Forbidden Books. They had all read my pages and began to question me in detail about certain formulations, and after about an hour, someone said it was a matter of mutual trust because my statements could be interpreted as orthodox or non-orthodox, depending on how they were spun out. We all shook hands and wished each other the best.

Medard took me for a long walk along the cloister sidewalks and paths through the pine trees. He said I was too obtuse to see that all they were trying to get me to admit was the validity of revelation of the apostolic age (which presumably ended around the year 200 when even long- lived John would surely have died on Patmos) whereas I was so busy trying to substantiate the on-going revelation and manifestation of God's activity since then, that I failed to realize it.

"Is that what they wanted?" I gasped. How simple it all seemed, and a flood of relief poured over me. We could certainly accommodate each other on that. Even today, I have no quarrel with scripture or tradition and I believe they are among the highest revelatory peaks of human experience.

Today, I prefer to speak of poetry rather than scriptures or dogma as the highest records of mankind, but that is a matter of language only. I find nothing more spiritually nourishing than poetry. To call the koranic, nordic, persian, greek, african, jewish, indian, zoroastrian, buddhist myths mere poetry is paradoxical at best, defamatory at worst, and ignorant in any case. It's worse than a crime, it's a blunder (c'est plus qu'un crime, c'est une faute - Napoleon). Each writing, especially folk scriptures, is a new word in the cosmic grammar, and not one of them can be spared in the too short paragraph of cosmic evolution and for the unveiling of the grandeur in continuous creation. The christians discovered that god and creation are transfigured; the hindi and buddhists that it is reincarnated and follows unequivocal karmic genetic codes, the chinese that it must see the further, ultimate way, the jewish that it must be achieved with this earth and peoplehood, and so on. While the final word has not been spoken, it has been spoken and the logos gets fuller and fuller till the all is in all. We are the words in a great cosmic grammar, I insist, at the moment, and the syntax or culture is infinitely variable. The more connotative and denotative we are, the more poetic and truly divine we are and become a part of the literary tradition, as it were. We write the book together with god.

All of the above was not part of my reflection tonight, but in explaining where my thoughts came from, I thought I might tell you what led to them. After the long bonfire, we had a late meal of mexican food and went to bed early - for our group...

[For the consolation of the faculty, I was the last man in our class to leave the active ministry.]

21 Jan 97: Kay Skonieczny Thank you for all of your kind, prayerful thoughts and words. I wanted to answer you at least with a short note for now - with the promise of a much longer letter of our experience during the last month of Ben's life. Amy, Molly and I have been talking about writing something to thank people and let everyone know how we are doing. If you want to call sometime, that would certainly be okay too. I did talk to Mike and Judy and Lannie and Cullan New Year's week. I will also send Gael a copy of our program for Ben's memorial celebration and the book mark with the Peace Prayer of St. Francis on it). The service was, of course, at St. Francis church here in Sacramento where we have been actively involved since 1981. Everyone said it was the most joyful, spiritual memorial celebration they had ever been to. Barry Brunsman, OFM was the celebrant who gave part of the "Ben reflections" and then Amy, Molly and I each spoke. We have an audio tape of the celebration that I need to get copied and would be glad to send you one which you could then send to others who would like to hear it.

Amy and Molly are actually still here for a little while longer. We are coping as best as we can - taking each day as it comes. They are such beautiful, thoughtful, women with strong inner spiritual resources. I'm so proud of them and they were among Ben's greatest joys and treasures.

This is harder than you can ever possibly imagine... At times I feel like I have ice in my veins and the sadness is almost overwhelming. Ben and I were so close and had a great romance for 27 years. When that is so suddenly gone from your life - you have to dig really deep every hour, every day to find the spiritual strength you know is there to get you through. Thanks for keeping in touch with us.

21 Jan 97: Gael responded to Kay for the Diaspora: . . .I got a wonderful letter from Medard last night. He said he wrote you, and he told such a moving story about Ben, ending with you. ...I think it is touching and wonderful and full of Ben's fullness of loving. Many, many thanks. It's a huge void we must fill. I know that with ice in your veins for awhile, that you have to act on your reserves, but that's quite OK. don't hate the universe for giving us Ben for only 25-45 years. We're lucky to get that much love for as long as we did. A 27-year romance with Ben was a great and wonderful gift. One you were worthy of and now you have to show you are.)

23 Jan 97 Ernie Fresques: I saw a note about you WOERK some time ago. I'm interested. I was at Westmont and Teutopolis. [Ernie, hope you'll tell us more of your story later on. These digests will rev you up. Yours was the novitiate class of 1957-8 wasn't it? - Ernie includes a book mark with a quote from Romans 11:33 in American and Greek, giving an address for the Third Judicial District in Phoenix. Also, four sides of inspirational writing of his and quotes from the Bible.]

28 Jan 97 Bill McGee/Alice Waco: sent photo of them and a biker friend during a 200 mile tour in the mountains. Beautiful legs. Bill wrote: The rains pour, floods flood anywhere, everywhere and mud slides as if on a sled. People tear like rain drops when houses float and mud rises to the windows and no place to go. It happens. It happens every year. Funny river folk don't build on boats. Or move away, find another way to hang between walls.

We're going back to Maui. Between now and then I have 3,000 miles of cycling planned. We are retired I guess. We hope to see Mooney out here. Alice talks to Judy about once a month. I like to my name and Alice's in the newsletter. Nice to be among fine folk.

1 Feb 97: Jack Brennan I had forgotten how wondrously human Medard is. What a treasure. I can see, feel and taste his emotions as he writes. I recall loving to read his parish bulletins for Montrose folk. I have some stories from those days. Chris, Tom Vogel and I used to be his ministerial sidekicks.

You have probably forgotten this, but I was the first one in our class, ironically, to be given faculties by Medard to hear confessions. That was one I sweated because my first penitent, ever, began in German. I knew what he was saying because he was saying the normal intro stuff to confession. I knew I could respond ok, but I also knew I wouldn't have a clue about what he was confessing. Fortunately, he told his sins in English. Whew!

We should persuade Medard to get on the net. He would love it because he loves to write. I don't remember your heresy trial. Though I am not surprised. When we had that late night Mass after a discussion on Vietnam, we were all inquisitioned. It was in the same context of your trial. They considered taking away our faculties because they knew we were lying when we would not admit that you were in on it. It was us innocents: Lyke, Pawell, and I. Stahl Klein and Skonieczny were not there and they couldn't believe that. I remember that Medard was upset with me because I had done it, but he was especially upset by the way I answered the questions. Dismas: "Did your wear vestments?" Me: "No, but we wore stoles." Dismas: "Did you have an altar stone?" Me: "No, but we had a corporal." Dismas: "Did you use unleavened bread?" Me: "No, but we used sacramental wine." I should have been a lawyer, but not the canon type. Medard actually shed tears with me privately and told me that he was really disappointed in me. They did not take away our faculties for even a weekend. Max Behnen came to our rescue - he was Master at the time. He later told me privately that he didn't think we'd done anything wrong and that he admired our spirituality. Later, Medard recanted after he'd had a taste of doing some spontaneous celebrations at Notre Dame.

2 Feb 97: Dan Mazar had previously recommended a book that might be of interest to our readers. I promptly misplaced the note I jotted during his phone call. If my handwriting is accurate, it's Fancy Dancer by Patricia Nell Warren, about a gay priest in Montana. Thanks, Dan, and tell us about your enjoyment of Thomas Wolfe's meditations on loneliness.

3 Feb 1997 - Vince Zimmerman Hi, I got Medard's letter and Kay's. Incidently, I didn't get the DD21 you sent. [I had the wrong address then. Did I ever send it?] To answer your questions about Ben: We left the U.S. for Brazil on July 10, 1964 by freighter. Jim Tye was on the boat, so we made a threesome. (I learned that a threesome is something like a third tire on a bicycle.)

When we arrived in Belem, we discovered that Bishop Jude had promoted a language school for the Papal Volunteers and other missionaries going to Brazil. It was called Casa Central, and was staffed by a Redemptorist, Padre Clemente, (who had some of the worst facial tics I've ever witnessed) and Precious Blood sisters from Kansas. (But the sisters there were mostly Brazilian.) One sister in particular was good at teaching Portuguese -- Sr. Monica. Ben and she struck up a friendship. (I was jealous, to tell you the truth, but being much more shy, I stuck mainly to socializing with the other students.)

It was an unreal experience, now that I look back. So many people of good will. There was one woman (28) who always lived on a farm, and when she volunteered to go to Brazil as a Papal Volunteer, thought Brazil was near India. She also practiced Portuguese, as all of had to do, by telling stories: e.g., how she yelled "Whoa" to her dad's tractor one day. I remember staying up all night, and having parties. We were at that school from August till Christmas. We lived in the basement of the friary in Belem and rode a bus to the language school. Bro. Francis Gonser was our faithful overseer. The day before Christmas, Frannie came in with our "present" two one way tickets to Rio on Paraense Air. (We were in the State of Para. Paraense's claim to fame was that you bought your ticket and waited to be called when they had enough people to fly.) We were called the day after Christmas. Ben and I flew to Rio wearing our habits. (The pilot had a female passenger on his lap and buzzed Brasilia to impress her.) By the time we arrived, it was 8: p.m. We stumbled through an explanation that we had to go to Petropolis, and someone told us how to catch the bus. The bus arrived in Petropolis at 10:30 PM, and the taxi took us to the theologate and drove off.

There we were, looking up at this tall iron gate which appeared locked. The door bell could be seen but not touched. We began calling out. A head appeared at the window. "We are Americans" Ben and I called out in our excellent Portuguese. (I never had a problem speaking Portuguese. It was funny how many people had problems understanding, though.) The head answered: "The Americans have left for the summer vacation." "No! We ARE Americans." "There are no Americans here. Get lost!" The window started to close. Finally the Bro. Porter came down to shut us up and let us use two rooms with just blankets on the beds. The next morning we met Frei Fabio, the assistant Master of Clerics. Two months later, the Master of clerics returned with all the clerics to say that he had told Frei Fabio to send us to their summer villa when we arrived. Frei Fabio forgot. So we sat in Petropolis for two months, and found out that the FMU had left about $5,000 in an account for the clerics to buy things for the missions in Rio. Let's just say that there were many shopping trips to Rio (in full habit) to "find" things needed at the mission. We learned how to carry "civies" and change clothes in an elevator by pulling the emergency stop button.)

I got to know Ben better than I had ever known him during our years in the States. During this period, Ben started writing Sr. Monica. Frei Fabio was reading the mail, and began getting worried. To make matters worse, when the Master returned, he had to have surgery for ulcers, so Fabio was Master during our first year. He took a dislike to Ben mainly because he felt Ben was writing love letters to Monica. I think he confronted Ben and told him that one more letter, and he was history. Well, Ben wrote one more. I still remember Fabio calling me in and asking: "What should I do? Is he falling in love? What would they do in the US?" I remember being so totally flabbergasted by his question. Fabio decided that he could have been a bad influence so he told him he had to go back to the States. (Several years later I spoke with Monica. She is still a Precious Blood sister.) I think this was about June of 1965.

There were several weeks while he got ready to go, and they were times of walking together while Ben tried to figure out what he had done wrong. He was very hurt. It was during this time that he said something I have used many times. He said: "Our greatest weakness usually is the exaggeration of our greatest strength." I interpreted that as meaning that his desire to love others was the drive that got him into trouble.

Ben went back to the States, and lost six months because the Brazilian school year is six months "behind" ours. I think he was ordained with the class following ours. I know when I came home, I only saw him a few minutes, so I really never heard how he adjusted. But I learned so much about living life fully from Ben -- about taking chances, and loving others.

There are sections of this story which I jumped over: e.g., spending two weeks in New York with Ben waiting for the boat [when he met Dorothy Day at Catholic Worker]. For reasons of space, suffice it to say that I miss Ben and wish that we could have talked again.

4 Feb 97 Jack Christensen: Should be on line by the time you hear from me again. Hate to rush modern technology. Back-dating: When I went to Baltimore to pick up #2 Daughter Kate at College of Notre Dame had dinner with Linda McDevitt, Fred and Colette Wichert, Herman and Ann Knoll and Pat McGrady (1st dean of women at QC). Everyone in good health and some wonderful memories of all teaching together.

Story: When Mel Doyle took over as Dean of Students and was looking thru the files he came upon the list that was sent to incoming women students. It included the suggested number of bras and panties they should bring. Mel immediately headed for Gabe's office and told him he was hiring a woman dean - hence, Pat McGrady.

I spent 16 weeks in a Pastoral Bereavement Counseling course during the fall and found it very inspiring. Next project is a 12-week course for the TOUCH program where dogs are trained (my two year old lab Kippen) to work with children and others in rehab programs, hospitals and nursing homes. Somewhere in there between these two courses, I hope to find a part-time ministry that I can make a belated career. My other career is taking care of the Christensen household full-time as Susan's new company keeps growing. With Jennifer heading to Indiana U in the fall (which means a stop at the Mooney's) the laundry load will decrease - has anyone figured out how to fold "fitted sheet"... Am also working in the clothing store part-time, just to keep busy and try to make the alloted amount for the IRS.

With Carrie supposedly graduating from DePaul in June and Jenny from high school we are all heading to Europe in June (the three girls for two weeks on the continent and meeting us for two more in Ireland).

The death of 3 friar friends: Gabe Brinkman, Columban Yelovich and Ben Skonieczny at the end of the year was sad. I make it to Collie's wake service conducted by Dave Eckelkamp. I wonder if Gabe, Mel, Peter Holzer and Jim Hartke are having a "QC President's Council Meeting..." God bless, keep up the good work with the Diaspora.

6 Feb 97 - Girard J. Etzkorn Just a note to advise you of my new email address . Have finally gotten a server giving me unlimited usage and no long distance rates. Thanks! Jerry Etzkorn; 239 Sheffield Dr;. Fairfield Glade, TN; 38558; (615) 484-8889.

P.S. To Chris Schabel: The Bessarion thing is being published by the Conventual Franciscans in Miscellanea Francescana (and also as a separate volume, so I understand) and will be out either in January or April. I'll try to get them to send you a copy. [Jerry, after these many years I am prepared to confess to you that I am the one who gave you the name of Fr. Hitherto- unknown-works-of-Scotus. I am also ready to confess that I still think that there may be more than eight ways of knowing. And, fine finaliter, you are one of a few stars in my educational career from whom I learned to love learning. Thanks. JB]

8 Feb 97: John Miller saw a copy of the Digest visiting a Diasporite and now weekly, something from GARTNER44@aol.com arrives:

I was a member of the 1966-67 novitiate class, but was asked to leave by Leonard Paskert after 9 months. I have many fond memories of class members, as well as the one you refer to as "Cowboy," under whose tutelage I spent my first weeks in Teutopolis. Why he would ever be referred to as "Cowboy" is beyond me, since that city boy wouldn't know the front from the back end of a horse or cow! My wife, of almost 27 years, still carries around a picture of me, Dan Mazar, and a college friend, which was taken in the habit, right after investiture. She gets a big laugh from all her friends, who think she married a "monk." The only people, with whom I've kept in some contact over the years are: Dennis Newman, who did the music at our wedding, even though he was late, He and his wife, Kathy, and 4 children, have become like family I never had. Dennis continues as a Church musician, and probably knows "Lady Poverty" better now, than he ever did when in the Order. He recently dedicated a song he wrote to me, which was very touching. As I told him, now I am truly immortal. Dan "Cowboy" Mazar, and of course, my "dad," Francis Jerome Gray, who is now at St. Peter's, are part of our family, all of them are "characters," to say the least! Occasionally I have run into other classmates, and this summer I spoke with Jim "Hank" Pfeiffer, when we visited Montana. Hank better get ready, because we fell in love with Montana, and plan to go back next summer. Once, I even saw Leonard Paskert on the I.C. train, coming from Chicago, but naturally he would never recognize me, and I don't have kind feelings or memories about him, except seeing him run around in his ephemerals in his rather bowed legs, and saying, "Men."

There are a number of former Franciscans, which kept me "sane" and I'd love to know where they are: Ansgar Bobby Hankey--without him, novitiate would have been hell. Wherever you are, thank you, bless you, and know that I think of you many times, especially when my "behind" or psyche are in trouble. Considering that this occurs frequently still, know that you are thought of often. Bert Gustafson--my teammate in teaching CCD to a class in Teutopolis, and with whom I got in a bunch a trouble with Leonard for not teaching about actual and sanctifying grace. Bert was asked to leave a number of weeks before me, and I was so stunned that I never really appropriately supported him, nor properly said "good bye."To this day, I regret my insensitivity. [In our day, being sensitive about those who left (literally in the dead of night) would get you a ticket on the next train to Chicago. It was as if you would be contaminated if you spoke to anyone who was leaving. JB] Ralph Adams--the "crazy guy" who kept me laughing. Jim Sexton--who one day told me we should all ride freight cars so we could live like Francis and preach to the "real people." Being a person, who likes his creature comforts, this was not my idea of "a good time," but Jim's idealism and enthusiasm were a comfort in a sea of apathy and ennui. Bill Norris-- last time I saw him was at Goodman Theater, where he played "Scrooge." What a talent and sense of humor.

I'm enriched by having had contact with all these people, and if you have any information or addresses on them, please send them. Dennis gave me a copy of the Digest, which has many names in it that I remember, but can't really say I knew. I was only in the seminary for two years after graduating from Quincy. Those two years were very special, but I've moved on with my life. My wife and I are both M.S.W.'S, and I've spent the last 25 years as a school social worker. - I would appreciate any information you have on some of the characters I mentioned. May God Bless!

[No one as sent us addresses for Bert Gustafson or Ralph Adams.]

9 Feb 97 Gene Katoski sent the February issue of Senior Friars Talk. The stress (pun) is on light-hearted humor, the prescription GK has lived so well. Dig these actual answers to a science quiz: Water is composed of two gins: Oxygin and hydrogin. Oxygin is pure gin. Hydrogin is gin and water. - Germinate: to become a naturalized German.

GK's cartoons from his clericate years are a hoot. Hope I have room to show one with GK's caption about giving haircuts at West Park during WWII: "One of my customers was Frater Tarsicius. Tots wore a 'Veronica Lake' hairdo' over his right eye. Gleefully I trimmed his hair. We discovered that Tots had a right eye like the rest of us." He notes some birthdays: Victor Kingery 73, Sylvano Pera 71, Roch Pfeifer 68.

9 Feb 97: John Miller: My address is 27712 S. Klemme Road, Crete, IL 60417-5034; (708) 946-2844. HH stands for "Humble Hans," a name given to me by Francis Jerome, who said I had every reason to be "humble." Cowboy could have given you that info, as he seems to know the news about almost everyone and the Province. He is a traveling minstrel of stories, and when Dennis Newman, his wife and he were at our place for dinner, they exchanged stories the whole night. My wife, Sandy, and I just sat there and watched, as they reminisced about St. Joe's and people neither of us really knew. It was fun for them, and for us to see the ties that made us who we are now.

There was another person I forgot to ask about: Ben Boyd -- when I first came to OLA, I took Ben (can't remember his real first name) to Larry's Tavern, one of my hangouts in college. We had great fun together over the few years we had. However we lost touch after he left.

10 Feb 97 - John Miller Dennis Newman's e-mail address is: lifesong@synet.net - We no longer belong to any parish or religion. I've been reading Joseph Campbell's works (many books, only part of which I understand), and I find his stuff fascinating. I do not agree with everything he says, and Dennis and I have had many discussions (arguments?). There are many things that have bothered me about the institutional Church for a long time, and we finally had to make a break. Finding the Christ in yourself and everyone else is a challenge, but something we work at. Hope our lack of affiliation doesn't put us on your "black list."

13 Feb 97 - Kay Skonieczny To Ben's dear brothers and friends in the Diaspora. Your were a very special, wonderful part of Ben's life. He often regaled us with stories from his seminary days and always remained a Franciscan at heart. As one of our friends said, "Ben was the great story teller who enjoyed the story probably more than the event itself. Everything that happened was great material!"

Ben never knew a stranger. People who got to know him even better, never forgot him. As our daughter, Amy, said at the Memorial Mass, "my dad was hardly a peripheral person; he liked to be right in the middle of things." Amy, our oldest, was the e-mail contact. She shared with her dad the notes from those who wrote and also the words from those who called. He was so amazed and pleased and said, "well, it looks like I've come full circle".

I shared my life with Ben for 27 years, a blessed gift I will treasure forever. It was made up of the ordinary and the dramatic (we always called Ben the "drama king"), filled with romance, joy and enthusiasm and transformed by grace. Losing him so suddenly and at a young age (57) leaves a gigantic hole in our hearts that will take much time, love, prayers and support to heal. We were at a delightful phase in our life together. We were self-employed working together out of our home office and our youngest daughter, Molly, graduated from college in May. We had planned our first major trip - to Rome and Assisi for Christmas. But that was not to be. (A friend from St. Francis church was in Assisi on Christmas day at the Basilica of St. Francis. It was the 700th anniversary so people were invited to enter names for special intentions. Our friend entered Ben's name and asked for healing. The book is to be placed in the new cornerstone at the Basilica.)

Ben knew he was seriously ill but we were hopeful the treatments suggested would work and give the alternative treatments we were using time to work also. We thought we had several months at the least. As we cared for Ben round the clock, we witnessed his body fail him as his inner spirit grew stronger and more luminous. It was truly a spiritual experience and a gift to be able to be there with him and for him....to wash his feet and hands, wipe his brow and tenderly caress him. I am experiencing this Lent at a level I never knew. He was so gracious to all who cared for him. The caregivers on his hospital floor wanted to be assigned to him; he exuded so much grace.

During those last two weeks, Ben was very present when he was awake and was not in a great deal of pain. He encouraged us to share our fears, feelings and expressions of love. He told us he was not afraid of dying; that if that was in his immediate future, he would go on to his next adventure with joy, enthusiasm and wonder. He also spoke directly to each one of us telling us what a blessing we were in his life. He said, "I have no regrets. My life has been filled with blessings. There is nothing I would change." We brought him home on December 23rd and had learned everything we needed to know to provide his care. He was delighted to be home. On Christmas Eve morning, the sun was shining brightly here. He thanked each one of us for making it possible for him to be home. That afternoon he experienced cardiac arrest and was gone so quickly from us.

We had a glorious Memorial Mass of celebration of his life attended by about 700 people at St. Francis church in Sacramento. Barry Brunsman, OFM (former pastor who had been close to Ben and me) celebrated the Mass and gave part of the eulogy (Molly, Amy and I gave the other part). He said of Ben, "When you met Ben, you wanted to meet his God!." He also said that Ben was his first experience of "Polish passion." I am sending an audio tape of the service to Gael for anyone who would be interested in it.

Our daughters, Amy and Molly stood with such strength, courage, compassion and love at my side and at Ben's side. They were his great joy and have his passion for life and justice as well as his vivaciousness and talents. He will definitely live on in them. Of course, they are a wonderful support to me. Amy has returned to Santa Cruz (Feb. 1) to her job and life there. Molly is here with me until around the end of March then she too must get on with her life in Arcata on the north coast of California. Right now for me, the incredible pain of loss is almost overwhelming at times but I let it come and try to face it with the same courage and grace that Ben faced his suffering and death. Nothing, of course, can take the pain away, but your prayers and loving support very much helps us to bear it. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

13 Feb 97 - John Miller Dennis and I correspond frequently by e-mail, but he often only gets to it about once or twice per week. His long hours as a Church musician, with choir practice, Easter, etc. coming up, wedding and funerals on weekends, anywhere he can get them, keep him running at a frenetic pace. We get together with him & Kathy for dinner about every 6-8 weeks, either at our houses or out, on occasion. We have rather lively discussions about the Church, and both of us benefit from hearing different points of view. Dennis and Kathy are very kind, loving people, and help smooth some of my edges. Dennis will forever remain an idealist and perfectionist, but we love him and Kathy dearly.

As you can probably tell, I love to write and read. It's almost a passion, and maybe when I leave my present job in a few years, can be my next profession. We'll start a newspaper in Western Montana--I think they read there--I'll have to ask Hank Pfeiffer, to make sure.

Peace and best wishes.

14 Feb 97 - Jack Brennan [Commenting on Chicago Tribune article.] "Well, God help us all" can be translated: sic transit gloria mundi. Sorry, but it sounds like a tempest in a teapot from out here. The Church is a concept to me. I know and love individuals in the Church and that's probably why I'm not a bishop. I must admit, I read the article with fascination and ended with my old bottom line: If I love my neighbor, I love God. God loves me in my going in and my coming out. I'm counting heavily on this simplistic philosophy of religion. But it tempers my cynicism about the politics of the Church and leaves me with a warm feeling.

14 Feb 97 - Keith Eckrich In an email this morning Jack Brennan mentioned an article by Bartz about the next Archbishop of Chicago. I somehow hadn't read it yet, so I have.

I am successful: I have not read the NCR for about 18 « years and it worked: the only names in the article that I even recognized were O'Connor of NY and Pilla of Cleveland, whose ordination I attended with Jim Lyke's ordination.

I admit the problem of Chicago's archbishop never occurred to me. I haven't the faintest idea why people spend five minutes on the speculation. Everyone dies, even Popes and bishops. I am sure an individual's faith can continue unscathed just be doing his part daily. We need to stick with the day-to-day ups and downs of life. Like -- Helene, Kristen and I exchanged Valentine Day's gifts over breakfast and I was delighted to have given Helene a gift (a book) that she had several times considered purchasing for herself. Wow, look what 11 years of marriage can do!

Happy Valentine's Day. I look forward to the secretaries at work showering me with candy that this diabetic may not eat. I'll fast today to make sure the bishop's house in Chicago is properly appointed!! Peace.

15 Feb 97 - John Miller You don't remember me at St. Joe's because I never attended there! I came to OLA, after I graduated from Quincy College in 1965. They gave me "crash courses" in Latin and philosophy, got a degree in philosophy in 1966, then went to novitiate. I had the medieval course from Jerry Etzkorn during the summer of 1965, and he probably lost most of his hair trying to get me through things in which I had no background. I had a course in epistemology in John Joe's very first year at OLA, and am not sure I understood a word. I have a funny story about John Joe:

I was standing outside my room talking with Bill Norris, and John Joe walks up to me, with a very puzzled expression, and asked: "Where am I?" There was a long pause, as I was trying to determine whether he was asking a philosophical question, or he was really lost. I finally decided, that since he was new, and probably couldn't find his way around the block, even on a good day, because his mind was always elsewhere, I'd direct him to his room, which was right down the hall. To this day, I'm still uncertain whether this was a "test," and I flunked.

Getting back to my history, they then sent me with Dennis' class to novitiate, where I lasted 9 months before Leonard had enough of me. I think it was my weekly washing of the jockey briefs and hanging them outside below his window, that did me in. My job in novitiate was making hosts, and you know, just from that, what a gathering of brethren I had down there, as they were chomping on my newly made creations and reading a week old paper.

After leaving novitiate, I went back to Quincy, where I stayed at the friary (Francis Jerome was guardian) and worked in the library. I soon received my draft notice (Vietnam here I come), and two weeks before I was supposed to report, I had a grand mal seizure, which made me "4-F". I had been having petit mals during novitiate, and didn't know what they were. I swear it came from the head injuries I sustained walking in that basement, and walking up the stairs that went outside from the basement. Several times I knocked myself so hard, I saw stars and let out several oaths and curses, which I'm sure Leonard marked down in his book.

In any case, since my draft status was now clear, I went to Chicago in July-August, 1967, and got a job as a caseworker at Catholic Charities, receiving a salary that was more like "pennies from heaven." Sandy and I ran into each other (she is a graduate of Quincy '65) at a Church, after I had moved to another apartment on the South side, in 1968. We had dated several times my freshman year of college. She was working for Cook County Dept. of Public Aid, and going to social work school that Fall, while I planned to go the following year. Both of us graduated from University of Illinois at Chicago in '70 and '71 (2 year program), and we married in June of 1970, while I was in my second year of grad school.

For the past 17 years, we have had a 10-acre little horse farm in Crete township, about 50 miles south of Chicago. We do all our own work, including bringing in hay and doing stalls daily. You're welcome to work off your board. I've asked the "Cowboy," but all he wants to do is talk.

16 Feb 97: John Miller I take it you like stories. Besides Diaspora, are you also a writer for a another newspaper? You said something about writing about your experiences staying with Diz Sexton. Did you ever publish that? another time.

We had 5 inches of snow overnight, and I had to do my rather long driveway and the daily barn work. The Farm has kept me "grounded" in the best sense. Too often we are totally "head" people and fake that as "experience." This brings life down to a very basic, practical level, and the cycle of nature, living and dying, are no longer just "head" things. It also gives me a rest from the problems of people, which I listen to daily.

19 Feb 97 Arlene Niehaus: sent two photocopies. One of a four-column article in the Tribune about how Chuck Faso, after 17 years at St. Pete's moved to an office across the street to begin a $10 million fundraising effort for the Loop's most famous church. It takes $1 million to operate but giving has topped off at $800,000. St. Pete's brings in about 2,000 people a day for 11 masses and priests hear confessions during 12 hours each day. The second photocopy notes the new area code (217) for the Effingham area. It's not the only change in Illinois. - Earlier in the month Dennis Griffin called to say There has been a change in Chicago's area code numbers. The 312 number has been assigned to the downtown business area and for residential numbers in the loop area. Most residential numbers formerly assigned the 312 area code have been given a new AC, 773.

23 Feb 97 - Nick Baxter I now have fax and E-mail at my apartment. Fax #281-298-6431. E-mail address is DNBAXTER@Juno.com

This is my 15th year working with behavior disorders in the Conroe District. I have been contemplating retirement but do not yet have "the bottom line" on finances, locale, etc. I talk to Paul Langan & Dan Tanna frequently and to Jim Tye occasionally. Otherwise, I feel out of touch. Diaspora is my link to a past that continuously recedes but remains so influential. The group of inactive priests in this area has, itself, become inactive. I still hear from the San Antonio group. It is sponsoring a retreat this Fall in Corpus Christi. By the way, when will there be another Diaspora conveniat? Does anyone know what pari passu means in Latin? [I think it means "equally spread out." You might want to check with Mike Mooney; his Latin could break up a whole row of stone faces at the head table in the Novitiate. Further, he knows a lot about spreading things out. JB]

24 Feb 97 Kay Skonieczny: Thanks so much for your warm response and thoughtful invitation to join you in Assisi. You know, I just might! Please keep me informed of your plans and I will think about it.

People have and continue to be so good to me and the girls. I continue to feel God and Ben's grace and presence in my life everyday. The Buddhist monk, Thich Hanh says, "to suffer is not enough. We are more than our suffering. We must also be in touch with wonders of life. They are all around us, everywhere, anytime." Those wonders and blessings of people and life are helping me bear my great pain. Keep in touch.

25 Feb 97 - John Miller I just want to share a few things I got, mostly fun and funny, in his biography, A Fire in the Mind. Favorite definition of mythology: "Other people's religion." Favorite definition of religion: "Misunderstanding of mythology." The misunderstanding is in reading spiritual mythological symbols as being references to historical events. Provincial readings separate the various religious communities. The remythologization recaptures the meaning and reveals a common spirituality in man. All this hit a cord in me, as I've been bothered for a long time with basic beliefs I've lived with for years. It is now my opinion that philosophy and theology are often just "mind games" in an attempt to understand the "unknowable/ineffable." God cannot be contained or confined in words, and when we claim to know "the truth," we are fooling ourselves, taking a very self-righteous stand, which lead to a disrespect of others' experience, culture, and beliefs. God has many "masks." Even the most "primitive" mythologies have something to say to us. I'm reminded of this past Sunday's first reading where Abraham was told to sacrifice his son. What kind of God would ask that? Perhaps, I'm missing the point of the reading, but this cruelty and viciousness is no different from the gods of the Greeks, Romans, or ones even before that.

One last thing, from The Masks of God: Occidental Mythology, p.157. "In the patriarchal cosmogonies, the normal imagery of divine motherhood is taken over by the father, and we find such motifs as, in India, The Wold Lotus growing from the reclining god Vishnu's navel--whereas since the primary reference to the lotus in India has always been to the goddess Padma, 'Lotus,' whose body itself is the universe, the long stem from navel to lotus should properly connote an umbilical cord through which the flow of energy would be running from the goddess to the god, mother to child , not the other way. Or in the Classical image of Zeus bearing Athene from his brain, where we have already recognized an example of 'sublimation ,' ... which has been rendered by means of an image of the type that Freud termed 'transference upward': as the woman give birth from the womb, so the father from his brain. Creation by the power of the Word is another instance of such a transfer to the male womb: the mouth the vagina, the word the birth. And one extremely important consequence of this bizarre, but highly honored, aberration upward, is the notion, common to all Occidental spirituality--and particularly stressed by our numerous bachelor and homosexual great teachers--that spirituality and sexuality are opposed." The implications of this, I'm sure, are far beyond my simple mind, but we are talking about "womb envy" here, power and control, and "head-game" spirituality? Is it any wonder then that institutional religions feel "dry, out of touch, separated from life and feeling, and purely dogma." It is coitus interruptus on a grand scale!

To end this, please sing to the following to the tune of "Gimme That Ol' Time Religion"

	I will honor goddess Isis 
	Of Egypt's gods she's nicest
	Her husband is in slices
	But she's good enough for me! 

* from Campbell's A FIRE IN THE MIND Campbell added:
	
	Let us worship Aphrodite,
	She's beautiful but flighty,,
	In her see-through sea-foam nightie,
	She's good enough for me!

Now what would Leonard say to that!! "Ah, Men, ah. . ." I'm sure God or whatever has a sense of humor, and in order to maintain some sense of sanity, I love to laugh.

PEACE, BROTHER!

26 Feb 97 Joe Smith: I read Arnie Wieser's entry in the last newsletter and want to remind him he was at our house and met wife and daughters when he was in transit (Cleve OH). I was at nearby KSU teaching at the time. I just want to share with him that I, too, did not just "run off" with my wife. Anyway, it's nobody's business, and no explanations are really necessary.

I had met my future wife while teaching at DePaul, when I caved in to Cosmas Herndl's (OFM) insistence that I take over his student organization there (Catholic Inter-Arts Alliance). But she was at that time only one of many friends, while I was at St. Pete's in residence. When I grew out of the old RC packaging and left in '64 for my university tours in Germany (Freiburg), I flew out alone. (There's a Wieser bakery near Freiburg FRG.) Only after I returned in '65 on invitation by Emory University (Atlanta) did I finally decide to settle down and become a responsible citizen. I'd had enough of being a freewheeling bachelor. I proposed later that summer under the Bryn Mawr el stop in a coffeeshop. Dinner and champagne followed later. We were married months later near Atlanta. Our two kids are long since successfully on their own as professionals. We lost a son at birth 20 years ago - a wound that will never heal, I now see. (Sued the hospital and won.)

I understand Arnie's two boys are on their own in the Northwest. (Interested in two Chicago eligible maidens?) The two Hartke classmates are survived by a football field of nephews, nieces, and their progeny. Remember when we all first met at Westmont in '39? I still cherish all those friendships that rode out time and some individual differences as well. Yes, I finally was tamed. I still cherish the solid values as well, even as the packaging burst and split. - Shalom!

1 March 97 Gene Katoski sent the March issue of SFT, "the 66th issue I've put out. I enjoy it, but it takes a lot of work for a couple of days a month. Hi to all the members of the Diaspora. God bless you all." - And indeed, the issue "brings back some happy memories." My favorite cartoon shows a retiree telling a nurse, "Youth is wasted on the young." She retorts, "Retirement is wasted on the old."

2 March 97 Chris Reuter's parish letter. He says he shirked federal jury duty over 14 to 16 weeks beginning in April. Lucky jury. He played the heavy in "Twelve Angry Men" at Westmont. His excuse: "I'm all for doing my patriotic duty, but ...." - They (we) all say that.

6 Mar 1997 Jim Schmitt: I have sad news. Yesterday I received word that Carol Hankey - wife of Bob (Ansgar) died of cancer. She was 58. She and Bob had been married for 27 years with two adopted children Laura and Bobbie. I am headed to Minneapolis for the funeral tomorrow. I didn't think I would be able to go but I was able to get things cleared away so I can make the trip. I am sad for Bob. I was at their wedding and recall giving a small homily at the occasion. Bob is a special friend . He and I went through a lot in the famous novitiate of l968 & l969. He was the Master of Novices and I was the assistant with Brother Mel and Charlie Bloss. They were days of huge joys and big tragedies like the death of Germaine. May Carol rest in peace and may we all have the peace of Christ! - Musky

[Bob, all our hearts are with you. - The Diaspora.]

For the third consecutive time, we go to press with word of the death of a beloved member, Billy, Ben, now Carol. Jim Lyke also died as we went to press a few years ago. These things come in threes. So maybe the late summer issue will be luckier.

There is never room anymore to give updated addresses and data.

If you want them, send an SASE and I'll mail them. I already sent them by email with DD20.