Thursday, November 18, 2004
A GROTESQUERIE OF NUNS
The thieving priest from the previous post got me thinking of nuns I've known.
From my Catholic grammar school:
Sister Kevin Marie: My 1st grade teacher, my first nun. A tall mean woman.
I had always been called by my middle name, but Sister Kevin insisted on calling me by first name, as my middle name wasn't a saint's name. I resisted, and wouldn't answer when called on by the heretofore unused first name. The principal was brought in, my parents were called. My parents won the battle, I was called by my middle name from then on, but at a terrible cost. I was marked. Marked by a woman who had changed her own name and was called by a man's name.
At this point, I'm supposed to say that I didn't see the incongruity at the time, but I did see it. I was one disaffected 6 year old.
I had no nuns from 2nd through 5th grade.
Sister Pruney: (I forget her real name) My 6th grade teacher. A short mean woman with a shriveled face. Called Sister Pruney by all. One day, William A. brought in a picture of a prune that he'd cut from a magazine. He labeled it Sister Pruney and passed it around. It was noticed and confiscated.
A nun was brought in from another class to yell at us. She told us we'd hurt Sister Pruney's feelings. That was a shocker. Nuns had feelings? None of us had ever considered such a thing.
A highlight from Sister Pruney's reign: One snowy slushy day she had everyone line up in the hallway before class. Those who'd worn boots were allowed to separate, take off the boots and proceed to class. Those who'd come to school just in shoes remained in line. Sister Pruney then took a yardstick and smacked the bootless ones across the back of the thighs for attempting to track sloppy snow into her classroom. She aimed a little low when she assaulted Nick C. The yardstick hit the back of his knees and cracked. "Your parents will get the bill for this," she said.
Then she went to the supply closet, got another yardstick and continued whacking her way down the line.
Sister Carmella: 7th grade. An exceedingly tall, exceedingly mean woman. She towered over the 7th graders even more than Sister Kevin had towered over the 1st graders.
Sister Carmella's signature move was to throw a glass of ice water at misbehaving students. She kept a full pitcher and glasses on her desk at all times. Her downfall came one Friday in early spring when she tried to perform her usual bit of shock therapy on habitual miscreant Jack T. He ducked and Anne S., sitting directly behind Jack, was drenched. She was a good girl, never in trouble, never punished, and the shock of being unjustifiably drenched sent her into a hysterical crying fit. She began to hyperventilate. Her parents had to be called.
On Monday, Jack's desk was unoccupied. He'd been expelled. For ducking.
And we had a new teacher. Mrs. L, former 5th grade teacher, had been lured out of retirement to shepherd us through the rest of the year.
It seems that Anne S's father was the manager of the local Cadillac dealership. The dealership that had always been more than happy to provide special favors to the parish priests, all of whom were accustomed to driving Cadillacs. Anne's father had apparently read the riot act to the monsignor about the way his daughter had been treated in the monsignor's school and the likelihood of the monsignor receiving any special consideration at the Cadillac lot in the future.
So, that was the last of Sister Carmella. Transferred? Walled up in the convent basement? Who new? She was just gone.
Sister Loretta Adrienne: 8th grade. A very fat, very mean woman. Known colloquially as Sister Loretta Fats. Her mode of discipline was a quick hard slap to the face of the misbehaver. I kept a little notebook with all the slappees' names and a tally of the number of times then been slapped. I think in some dim way I was hoping there'd be legal action and I could be called to testify against her. But, of course, nothing of the sort happened. She just slapped away all year, and then we graduated.
A Nun My Sister Had For A Short Time, Unfortunately Her Name Is Lost To History
This one was my sister's teacher in 5th grade. She freaked out very early in the school year. It was a warm September day, when, on recess duty, she smacked a kid's head against the side of the school building until he was bleeding and semiconscious. She was taken away, had a seizure over the weekend, and died.
My sister's class was greeted by another guest lecturer on Monday morning. A nun they hadn't seen before addressed the class:
"You! You are murderers! Sister is dead and you have killed her. Killed her by your behavior! You have killed a bride of Christ!"
And one more:
My Aunt: My father's older sister is a nun, one of the luckiest nuns of all time. Her two assignments, in all the years I've known her, have been in Virgin Islands for the school year, and at a gigantic beachfront retreat house in New Jersey the rest of the year. She would visit us for a week or so every summer; I realize now that it must have been quite a comedown for her.
We had cats. Aunt Sister was deathly afraid of cats. The fear was such that she wouldn't even enter a room if a cat was there. This led to a lot of maneuvering. If a cat was in the front room and she wanted to get to the kitchen, she would leave the house by the front door and walk around to the side door or the back door. She tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but once I realized what she was doing, I would quickly scoop up the nearest available cat and rush to deposit it on the other side of the door she was approaching. A pleasant time was had by all.
We had an apple tree. Aunt Sister's big project during her visits was always to collect as many apples as possible and cook them up into the most vile dessert concoctions imaginable. Her Apple Brown Betty, in particular, still makes me shudder.
Aunt Sister repeated everything she said. Everything she said. This amused us no end. In fact, I can still make my brother laugh by simply dropping my voice to a low chortle and repeating myself. And repeating myself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have no use for nuns or for cooked apples to this day.
From my Catholic grammar school:
Sister Kevin Marie: My 1st grade teacher, my first nun. A tall mean woman.
I had always been called by my middle name, but Sister Kevin insisted on calling me by first name, as my middle name wasn't a saint's name. I resisted, and wouldn't answer when called on by the heretofore unused first name. The principal was brought in, my parents were called. My parents won the battle, I was called by my middle name from then on, but at a terrible cost. I was marked. Marked by a woman who had changed her own name and was called by a man's name.
At this point, I'm supposed to say that I didn't see the incongruity at the time, but I did see it. I was one disaffected 6 year old.
I had no nuns from 2nd through 5th grade.
Sister Pruney: (I forget her real name) My 6th grade teacher. A short mean woman with a shriveled face. Called Sister Pruney by all. One day, William A. brought in a picture of a prune that he'd cut from a magazine. He labeled it Sister Pruney and passed it around. It was noticed and confiscated.
A nun was brought in from another class to yell at us. She told us we'd hurt Sister Pruney's feelings. That was a shocker. Nuns had feelings? None of us had ever considered such a thing.
A highlight from Sister Pruney's reign: One snowy slushy day she had everyone line up in the hallway before class. Those who'd worn boots were allowed to separate, take off the boots and proceed to class. Those who'd come to school just in shoes remained in line. Sister Pruney then took a yardstick and smacked the bootless ones across the back of the thighs for attempting to track sloppy snow into her classroom. She aimed a little low when she assaulted Nick C. The yardstick hit the back of his knees and cracked. "Your parents will get the bill for this," she said.
Then she went to the supply closet, got another yardstick and continued whacking her way down the line.
Sister Carmella: 7th grade. An exceedingly tall, exceedingly mean woman. She towered over the 7th graders even more than Sister Kevin had towered over the 1st graders.
Sister Carmella's signature move was to throw a glass of ice water at misbehaving students. She kept a full pitcher and glasses on her desk at all times. Her downfall came one Friday in early spring when she tried to perform her usual bit of shock therapy on habitual miscreant Jack T. He ducked and Anne S., sitting directly behind Jack, was drenched. She was a good girl, never in trouble, never punished, and the shock of being unjustifiably drenched sent her into a hysterical crying fit. She began to hyperventilate. Her parents had to be called.
On Monday, Jack's desk was unoccupied. He'd been expelled. For ducking.
And we had a new teacher. Mrs. L, former 5th grade teacher, had been lured out of retirement to shepherd us through the rest of the year.
It seems that Anne S's father was the manager of the local Cadillac dealership. The dealership that had always been more than happy to provide special favors to the parish priests, all of whom were accustomed to driving Cadillacs. Anne's father had apparently read the riot act to the monsignor about the way his daughter had been treated in the monsignor's school and the likelihood of the monsignor receiving any special consideration at the Cadillac lot in the future.
So, that was the last of Sister Carmella. Transferred? Walled up in the convent basement? Who new? She was just gone.
Sister Loretta Adrienne: 8th grade. A very fat, very mean woman. Known colloquially as Sister Loretta Fats. Her mode of discipline was a quick hard slap to the face of the misbehaver. I kept a little notebook with all the slappees' names and a tally of the number of times then been slapped. I think in some dim way I was hoping there'd be legal action and I could be called to testify against her. But, of course, nothing of the sort happened. She just slapped away all year, and then we graduated.
A Nun My Sister Had For A Short Time, Unfortunately Her Name Is Lost To History
This one was my sister's teacher in 5th grade. She freaked out very early in the school year. It was a warm September day, when, on recess duty, she smacked a kid's head against the side of the school building until he was bleeding and semiconscious. She was taken away, had a seizure over the weekend, and died.
My sister's class was greeted by another guest lecturer on Monday morning. A nun they hadn't seen before addressed the class:
"You! You are murderers! Sister is dead and you have killed her. Killed her by your behavior! You have killed a bride of Christ!"
And one more:
My Aunt: My father's older sister is a nun, one of the luckiest nuns of all time. Her two assignments, in all the years I've known her, have been in Virgin Islands for the school year, and at a gigantic beachfront retreat house in New Jersey the rest of the year. She would visit us for a week or so every summer; I realize now that it must have been quite a comedown for her.
We had cats. Aunt Sister was deathly afraid of cats. The fear was such that she wouldn't even enter a room if a cat was there. This led to a lot of maneuvering. If a cat was in the front room and she wanted to get to the kitchen, she would leave the house by the front door and walk around to the side door or the back door. She tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but once I realized what she was doing, I would quickly scoop up the nearest available cat and rush to deposit it on the other side of the door she was approaching. A pleasant time was had by all.
We had an apple tree. Aunt Sister's big project during her visits was always to collect as many apples as possible and cook them up into the most vile dessert concoctions imaginable. Her Apple Brown Betty, in particular, still makes me shudder.
Aunt Sister repeated everything she said. Everything she said. This amused us no end. In fact, I can still make my brother laugh by simply dropping my voice to a low chortle and repeating myself. And repeating myself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have no use for nuns or for cooked apples to this day.
Monday, November 08, 2004
PORTLY PECUNIARY PERVERTED PRIEST/PRINCIPAL
I know the greedy, thieving, bon-vivant priest has been a stock character for hundreds of years. And the priest as closet homesexual has been making an unprecedent amount of appearances lately.
Nevertheless, I believe this guy is sui generis. Presented here for research purposes and entertainment value only:
From the Newark Star Ledger 11/6/2004
THE PASTOR AND THE MISSING MONEY
Priest in Rumson stole at least $500,000, lavished gifts on male friend, authorities say
Saturday, November 06, 2004
BY BRIAN DONOHUE AND MARY JO PATTERSON Star-Ledger Staff
In Rumson, a jewel of a town by the Jersey Shore known for its quiet wealth and shaded lawns, the Rev. Joseph W. Hughes blended right in.
There was the constant stream of luxury cars, the membership at the Rumson Country Club, the frequent vacations, and of course his big diamond ring. Father Hughes, pastor of Holy Cross Catholic Church for the past 16 years, seemed to dine out every night at pricey restaurants like the Fromagerie or Harry's Lobster Restaurant, often with the same few couples from church.
It may have been a flamboyant lifestyle for a parish priest, but most people believed he had inherited family money. Yesterday, authorities said the 60-year-old priest was tapping into an altogether different source.
The Monmouth County Prosecutor's Office held a news conference in Freehold to announce that, between 2001 and 2004, Hughes allegedly misappropriated at least $500,000 of the church's funds to cover personal expenses such as limo rentals and airline tickets -- and bestow gifts on a 25-year-old male "personal friend," including a $58,000 BMW, giant-screen TV, stainless steel refrigerator, jewelry and trips to Bermuda and Cancun.
The friend, David Rogers of Howell Township, is a $50,000-a-year employee of Holy Cross Church who performed maintenance work, authorities said. The priest bought Rogers' house in Howell, a ranch, in 2003, according to documents on file in Monmouth County. Hughes currently pays the mortgage and utility bills, authorities said.
"Certainly, he did not dedicate his life to the lifestyle of a vow of poverty," said first assistant prosecutor Robert A. Honecker Jr. He said there were "obvious failures of internal controls" at Holy Cross.
Hughes turned himself in to police on Thursday after learning that an arrest warrant was in the works. He was charged with one count of theft of more than $75,000 of church funds, and released on $100,000 bail. If convicted, he faces a 10-year prison term, according to authorities.
The Diocese of Trenton has removed him from the priesthood and expelled him from the rectory in Rumson. The rectory and simple white wood-shingled Colonial-style church are set on nearly six rolling acres, between the Sea Bright Lawn Tennis and Cricket Club and a gated riverfront mansion. Church collections bring in $750,000 a year, authorities said.
Yesterday, Hughes was said to be "in an undisclosed location with friends," said his attorney, Michael Pappa of Hazlet.
Reaction from parishioners at Holy Cross was mixed yesterday. Some, like choir director Tucky Parent, called him "a wonderful priest and pastor."
Others said they were hardly surprised. "A lot of people thought something would come down someday," said Bill Denver, a parishioner from Shrewsbury. "He lived a very elaborate lifestyle."
Hughes had spent the last two years pushing for a controversial expansion of Holy Cross Church, a project that had sharply divided the parish. Supporters pledged $8 million for the project, of which Holy Cross has collected $5.2 million, the prosecutor's office said.
That project has been significantly scaled back by the Rumson Zoning Board of Adjustment, which called Hughes' original plan "too expansive and massive."
Authorities said they believe that although Hughes raided a number of church accounts, they did not find any evidence that he helped himself to money earmarked for the expansion.
They also emphasized that they had not charged Hughes' friend. Honecker said, however, that investigators want to determine if Rogers knew how the priest financed his presents.
Rogers could not be found for comment yesterday.
A neighbor, Ed Percoco, said Rogers was a quiet man who often hung out with friends on his front porch and played the guitar.
Hughes' alleged misdeeds came to the prosecutor's attention on Nov. 1, when the Diocese of Trenton notified the office of "possible criminal conduct," Honecker said. The diocese had performed a financial audit of the church, covering the period from July 1, 2001, to July 30, 2004.
The audit revealed a bank account, not found on any of the parish's financial reports, at Shrewsbury State Bank. Money in the account had come from golf outings, raffle events and other charity events to benefit the church, according to authorities.
Hughes drew $390,000 from the account to cover non-parish expenses, chiefly credit card and personal bills, Honecker said. Another $137,000, in checks Hughes made out to "cash," was removed from the account, he said. Bank statements for the account were sent to a post office box in Sea Bright, the assistant prosecutor said.
The priest also took money from an account at a different bank, where the church had several investment funds, Honecker said. He allegedly used money from that fund to cover another $52,000 in personal funds. From yet another church account, Hughes took $100,000 for personal expenses, Honecker said.
Honecker said he believed that church members had no idea what was going on.
"It was believed the lifestyle he was leading was being paid for by proceeds from his inheritance," he said.
Honecker said the alleged theft "could go higher" than $500,000. Many of the bills reviewed are very large sums and are not itemized, he said. The criminal investigation is continuing.
From 1974 until 1988, when he became pastor at Holy Cross, Hughes was principal at Notre Dame High School in Lawrenceville.
Before then, he held a series of associate pastor positions, at St. Joseph's Church in Toms River, Our Lady of Mount Virgin in Middlesex, and St. Philip and James R.C. Church in Phillipsburg, said Steven Emery of Princeton Communications Group, an outside public relations specialist hired by the diocese.
Emery said that Hughes is still "technically a priest," despite his resignation and removal, and will continue to receive salary and benefits from the diocese.
Pappa, the priest's attorney, described his client as a tireless advocate with a heart "as big as he is." Hughes is a portly man. "If you needed him, he was there," he said.
Yesterday, outside the Holy Cross school, some parents fretted over what to tell their children.
"I send them to this school to teach them not to steal and cheat," said Claire McCartney of Holmdel, while picking up her son, a seventh-grader. "I just feel so bad for the kids."
At Notre Dame High School where Hughes served as principal, educators who knew Hughes said they were shocked by news of his alleged crime and personal life. "I cannot say anything bad about Father Hughes," said Ralph Sheffield, defensive coach for the freshman football team, who said Hughes' efforts greatly boosted the school's academics and enrollment.
"He was a priest, but he was down to earth. Everybody loved the guy," he said.
Staff writers Tom Hester and Jeff Diamant contributed to this story.
Nevertheless, I believe this guy is sui generis. Presented here for research purposes and entertainment value only:
From the Newark Star Ledger 11/6/2004
THE PASTOR AND THE MISSING MONEY
Priest in Rumson stole at least $500,000, lavished gifts on male friend, authorities say
Saturday, November 06, 2004
BY BRIAN DONOHUE AND MARY JO PATTERSON Star-Ledger Staff
In Rumson, a jewel of a town by the Jersey Shore known for its quiet wealth and shaded lawns, the Rev. Joseph W. Hughes blended right in.
There was the constant stream of luxury cars, the membership at the Rumson Country Club, the frequent vacations, and of course his big diamond ring. Father Hughes, pastor of Holy Cross Catholic Church for the past 16 years, seemed to dine out every night at pricey restaurants like the Fromagerie or Harry's Lobster Restaurant, often with the same few couples from church.
It may have been a flamboyant lifestyle for a parish priest, but most people believed he had inherited family money. Yesterday, authorities said the 60-year-old priest was tapping into an altogether different source.
The Monmouth County Prosecutor's Office held a news conference in Freehold to announce that, between 2001 and 2004, Hughes allegedly misappropriated at least $500,000 of the church's funds to cover personal expenses such as limo rentals and airline tickets -- and bestow gifts on a 25-year-old male "personal friend," including a $58,000 BMW, giant-screen TV, stainless steel refrigerator, jewelry and trips to Bermuda and Cancun.
The friend, David Rogers of Howell Township, is a $50,000-a-year employee of Holy Cross Church who performed maintenance work, authorities said. The priest bought Rogers' house in Howell, a ranch, in 2003, according to documents on file in Monmouth County. Hughes currently pays the mortgage and utility bills, authorities said.
"Certainly, he did not dedicate his life to the lifestyle of a vow of poverty," said first assistant prosecutor Robert A. Honecker Jr. He said there were "obvious failures of internal controls" at Holy Cross.
Hughes turned himself in to police on Thursday after learning that an arrest warrant was in the works. He was charged with one count of theft of more than $75,000 of church funds, and released on $100,000 bail. If convicted, he faces a 10-year prison term, according to authorities.
The Diocese of Trenton has removed him from the priesthood and expelled him from the rectory in Rumson. The rectory and simple white wood-shingled Colonial-style church are set on nearly six rolling acres, between the Sea Bright Lawn Tennis and Cricket Club and a gated riverfront mansion. Church collections bring in $750,000 a year, authorities said.
Yesterday, Hughes was said to be "in an undisclosed location with friends," said his attorney, Michael Pappa of Hazlet.
Reaction from parishioners at Holy Cross was mixed yesterday. Some, like choir director Tucky Parent, called him "a wonderful priest and pastor."
Others said they were hardly surprised. "A lot of people thought something would come down someday," said Bill Denver, a parishioner from Shrewsbury. "He lived a very elaborate lifestyle."
Hughes had spent the last two years pushing for a controversial expansion of Holy Cross Church, a project that had sharply divided the parish. Supporters pledged $8 million for the project, of which Holy Cross has collected $5.2 million, the prosecutor's office said.
That project has been significantly scaled back by the Rumson Zoning Board of Adjustment, which called Hughes' original plan "too expansive and massive."
Authorities said they believe that although Hughes raided a number of church accounts, they did not find any evidence that he helped himself to money earmarked for the expansion.
They also emphasized that they had not charged Hughes' friend. Honecker said, however, that investigators want to determine if Rogers knew how the priest financed his presents.
Rogers could not be found for comment yesterday.
A neighbor, Ed Percoco, said Rogers was a quiet man who often hung out with friends on his front porch and played the guitar.
Hughes' alleged misdeeds came to the prosecutor's attention on Nov. 1, when the Diocese of Trenton notified the office of "possible criminal conduct," Honecker said. The diocese had performed a financial audit of the church, covering the period from July 1, 2001, to July 30, 2004.
The audit revealed a bank account, not found on any of the parish's financial reports, at Shrewsbury State Bank. Money in the account had come from golf outings, raffle events and other charity events to benefit the church, according to authorities.
Hughes drew $390,000 from the account to cover non-parish expenses, chiefly credit card and personal bills, Honecker said. Another $137,000, in checks Hughes made out to "cash," was removed from the account, he said. Bank statements for the account were sent to a post office box in Sea Bright, the assistant prosecutor said.
The priest also took money from an account at a different bank, where the church had several investment funds, Honecker said. He allegedly used money from that fund to cover another $52,000 in personal funds. From yet another church account, Hughes took $100,000 for personal expenses, Honecker said.
Honecker said he believed that church members had no idea what was going on.
"It was believed the lifestyle he was leading was being paid for by proceeds from his inheritance," he said.
Honecker said the alleged theft "could go higher" than $500,000. Many of the bills reviewed are very large sums and are not itemized, he said. The criminal investigation is continuing.
From 1974 until 1988, when he became pastor at Holy Cross, Hughes was principal at Notre Dame High School in Lawrenceville.
Before then, he held a series of associate pastor positions, at St. Joseph's Church in Toms River, Our Lady of Mount Virgin in Middlesex, and St. Philip and James R.C. Church in Phillipsburg, said Steven Emery of Princeton Communications Group, an outside public relations specialist hired by the diocese.
Emery said that Hughes is still "technically a priest," despite his resignation and removal, and will continue to receive salary and benefits from the diocese.
Pappa, the priest's attorney, described his client as a tireless advocate with a heart "as big as he is." Hughes is a portly man. "If you needed him, he was there," he said.
Yesterday, outside the Holy Cross school, some parents fretted over what to tell their children.
"I send them to this school to teach them not to steal and cheat," said Claire McCartney of Holmdel, while picking up her son, a seventh-grader. "I just feel so bad for the kids."
At Notre Dame High School where Hughes served as principal, educators who knew Hughes said they were shocked by news of his alleged crime and personal life. "I cannot say anything bad about Father Hughes," said Ralph Sheffield, defensive coach for the freshman football team, who said Hughes' efforts greatly boosted the school's academics and enrollment.
"He was a priest, but he was down to earth. Everybody loved the guy," he said.
Staff writers Tom Hester and Jeff Diamant contributed to this story.
