Leonarda's Journey

Sacred Heart Academy’s beloved Foundress, Mother Mary Leonarda

Those who were at the Chapter this past June were treated to the “premiere” of the recently completed documentary about M. Leonarda Hannappel.  “Leonarda’s Journey” was a captivating depiction of the life of an amazing woman who is one of the “giants” on whose shoulders we stand.  During a recent search in the province archives for information on a totally unrelated topic, I came across “A Tribute to the Foundress of Sacred Heart Academy” which was published in the 1927 booklet, “Golden Jubilee The Buffalo Academy of the Sacred Heart 1877-1927.”  It seemed fitting to share some of that information in this column as the first in what is hoped to be a series of profiles of some of the sisters of Holy Name Province who have gone before us.  Although we know when and where this was published, there is nothing to indicate who authored the piece—clearly it was one who had known and respected M. Leonarda.  In reading this tribute, one must, of course, take into account the times in which it was written as the style and focus of the piece is much different from any similar tribute which might be written today.

No name is so closely associated with the history of Sacred Heart Academy as that of its beloved Foundress, Mother Mary Leonarda.  She was born at Montebaur, Germany, of illustrious parents, and received a liberal education.  At the age of 18, she joined the Franciscan Order at Nonnenwerth, where after two years, in 1869 she made the Profession of her vows.  In 1871, a religious persecution broke out in Germany and threatened to overthrow many flourishing Convents and Schools.  The Rev. Mother General of the Franciscan Sisters [Mother Aloysia Lenders], following the advice of learned and farseeing friends among the Clergy decided to send a band of her Sisters to the United States, there to carry on the work of saving souls for Christ.  Rev. henry Behrens, S.J. at that time Superior of the German Missionary Province in America, strongly urged Mother General to select Buffalo, N.Y. as their central field of activity.  Three Sisters were chosen to accompany Mother General among whom was our beloved Mother Leonarda, then a young Sister of 24 years.  To her was assigned the task of establishing a High School for girls.  This would be difficult in any case, how much more so for her, an exile, so to say, from her own country, unacquainted with the customs and manners of the people, and knowing the language, only in so far as she studied it as a classic.  Obstacles, almost insurmountable, presented themselves on all sides.  But, hers was the faith that could move mountains and over and over, she was heard to repeat, “If the work is to be of God , it must bear the seal of the Cross,” and, surely the Cross was her portion.

  Fifty years ago [1877], higher education for girls was anything but popular in Buffalo.  Even well-meaning priests felt it a duty to warn parents against the danger of sending their daughters to an Academy, for it would be the means of perverting ideas of their place and duty in the home.  In the face of these and countless difficulties which cannot be made mention of here, Mother Leonarda, the heroic pioneer given to sacrifice and suffering, bore up, and succeeded in not only establishing this institution [SHA], but in raising its standard for scholarship, and its government and code of action in accordance with the maxims of the Sacred Heart of God.

  Mother Leonarda was a true teacher, brilliant, versatile, educated far above the average of her day.  She made study attractive, but she set far more store to self-conquest and self-discipline.  This was her glory; and this has been during the revolving years, the chief aim of her successors at Sacred Heart Academy.

  In 1904, Mother Leonarda was called upon to succeed Mother Cecilia [M. Cecilia Steffen had died March 21, 1904, at the age of 69] as [Mission Superior of the North American Mission.]  In this capacity she built and established many flourishing Convents, Schools and Academies in New York, Ohio, W. Virginia, Nebraska, North and South Dakota, California, Washington and Oregon.  The Mother House which had been at Sacred Heart from the beginning, she transferred to Stella Niagara.  Whoever visits this beautiful spot on the banks of the Niagara river, is struck at the sight of the noble edifice, dedicated to the service of God and to the cause of Catholic education.

  Mother Leonarda’s great mind had the grasp of details, as well as penetration and the vision of completed work.  This was shown clearly in her management of the schools, as well as in her plans for buildings, specifically that of Stella Niagara.  Mother Leonarda possessed administrative power of  very high order, and extraordinary mental and spiritual gifts.  Hers was a heart of gold, [loving her sisters, the students, all living creatures, and all beautiful things].

  So, in patient endurance, undying energy, fervor and zeal, the years passed by.  . . . Mother Leonarda lost no opportunity to carry on the work with greater intensity of will than there was physical force to bear it out.  Gentle, submissive, humble, forbearing, crushed in the crucible of self-crucifixion, out of an intensity of love for the Sacred Heart of Christ Crucified, Mother Leonarda passed to her reward in December 1923  [at the age of 72].  She had foretold to her Sisters in religion the time of her death.  Her Master called her.  She was ready, waiting, her lamp trimmed and burning.  Out in God’s acre in the shadow of the Cross at Stella Niagara, she rests.  But in the hearts of her children is erected an immortal monument of love and gratitude.  Many there are now, and many there will be in years to come, who “rising up will call her Blessed.” 

  In 1922, M. Leonarda was succeeded as Mission Superior by M. Gerard Zimmermann.

St. Aloysius Academy - continued

With this issue we conclude the reminiscences of Roseanne Nash Eumen about her days at St. Aloysius Academy. The photo with this article is of a group of young St. Al’s students in their “middies” and black pleated uniform skirts worn in fall and spring. Although we don’t know when this photo was taken nor what year Roseanne began her St. Al’s education, it is possible that she is one of the young ladies in the photo—at the very least she and her friends would have looked much like this during their school years.

I’m in the music room with all the glassed-in alcoves filled with the girls practicing piano. This is Sr. Hortense’s domain. How I longed to play an instrument!! Well, I did play the violin for one year. We had a little orchestra and practiced during noon hour. I remember “every-good-boy-does-fine” and “F-A-C-E.” Not bad after all these years. I squeaked through “Silent Night,” but can’t recall the other pieces we played. I enjoyed singing with the choral group. 

Standing in front of the stage in those gorgeous white rayon, satin gowns, with the tinsel around the neck and long loose sleeves. Were we supposed to be angels, or what?

I loved being in the plays. The attic was full of costumes, most were moth eaten and somewhat shabby to the naked eye, but under the stage lights [they] became quite beautiful. Sr. Dionysia was a good director. Remember standing on the stage projecting our voices to the back wall and Sister sitting in the very last row to be sure we spoke distinctly?

The year Sr. Honoria directed I was to sing “Maggie” as I came up the back stair and when I got on stage I was so out of breath I couldn’t say a word. Sr. Dionysia, from behind the curtain said, “Take three deep breaths slowly and begin.” That bit of advice has helped me on many occasions when I’d get up tight and my stomach turned flip flops.

For English and Chemistry, Sr. Cyrilla was always one jump ahead of me. I can see her with her black sleeves almost covering her hands. She encouraged me to read and the people I met and the places visited provided many hours of enjoyment for me when the children were young and baby sitters were at a minimum. The poems we recited in class gave me the desire to dabble in a little poetry on my own. I’ve written many for my kids.

Public speaking has been a big plus for me. Giving those little speeches before all of you gave me the courage and confidence to cantor and lector for Sunday liturgies and with Joe, talk before groups of engaged and married couples.

Did you keep your notes from Sr. Annette’s U.S. History class? How many alphabet projects were there? No books, just page after page of notes.

I’m winding my way to the art room and am looking at Sr. Coletta’s paintings. Such beautiful scenes brought to life for one who would probably never see the actual place. Sr. Coletta taught Algebra and, it seems, Freshman English. I remember she could hear a whisper, but at times the spoken word escaped her. I’m glad because when reciting the poem “The Last Leaf” the line that read “A melancholy crack in his laugh” didn’t quite come off as written.

I think Sr. Dionysia’s first love was French. I didn’t get involved with learning French, I suppose I am too Dutch. In geometry class we played a baseball game of sorts. We chose sides and Sr. Dionysia pitched the questions to us. It was an interesting way to learn. Her love for the missions became a part of my life.

She planted the seed deep within me. Wasn’t her brother Father Ed, a missionary? I saw her two years ago and she remembered all of us and prays for us daily.

Let’s run up to the lab and see the dusty old owl. It had to be a hundred years old, and it remained there for a number of years after we left. It neither changed expressions nor moved a feather. I can see the mercury running around in the lid and smell the phosphorus. Weren’t we warned that it could catch fire? By the way, how many bells have you wired since graduation? I tried to replace an ironing cord and ended up putting all the pieces in a paper bag for Joe to fix. Need I say more? Sr. Emelia really knew her subject and loved every minute teaching it.

Sr. Leo guided me through government, the environment and its effect on humanity, and Latin. Speaking of Latin brings to mind June exams and the test on Caesar and his exploits. The story began, “Caesar with seven legions” (this much was easy and not really caring where he went I wrote “went over the hill.”) and continued writing my interpretation of his battles. After grading it Sr. Leo stopped me in the hall and told me how much she enjoyed my version. Then she smiled. Not only that, but I passed. Rosalie, I’m so thankful you had older sisters to help us in the translations. Always she wanted us to be the best that we could be. One time when the little bird told her I’d had a date she kept me after class and asked me “Would you stoop and let a boy kiss you?” As short as I am!!!

Periodically the faces of these dedicated nuns pass before me and a smile crosses my lips and I whisper a “Thank you” for their interest in me and for loving me enough to overlook my failings, knowing that one day I would set aside the things of my youth.

I’ve saved the memory of the chapel until last. Its marble altar covered with snow white linen and gold lace, aglow with candle light and framing the tabernacle, Sr. Reinharda’s beautiful flowers. As I sat in chapel, my eyes wandered to the stained glass windows depicting only women saints and in the silence the haunting refrains of past years filled me with much peace. Today sitting quietly in church, with the sanctuary lamp flickering in the dim light, I am filled with that same sense of peace.

You, who shared my life for four years, are very dear to me. I think of you often and pray for you daily. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. There are many memories I could share—these have been but a few.

A little about my life since 1939. I married Joe on December 27, 1941. We’ve parented ten children: Timothy, Beth, Janice, Teddy, Joan, Jean, Jeff, Kevin, Kenneth, and Christopher. Ages range from 31 to 46. We have 21 grandchildren, ages 2-23 and two great granddaughters, 10 months and 18 months. We’ve celebrated birth, experienced the emptiness of death of Jean at age 23 days and Janice at 27 years. We’ve laughed, cried, trusted, and worried. Became angry at times and begged forgiveness. We’ve worked hard, played hard, got weak in the knees and stood tall. We’ve been blessed with good friends, a loving family, and fairly good health. We’re moving into the sixth stage of life, and our destiny lies before us for our life has indeed been fruitful.

St. Aloysius Academy - continued...

In a recent column, From the Archives shared the first part of a reminiscence of her days at St. Aloysius Academy by Roseanne Nash Eumen.  This month we will continue her “Memories.”

            After the article was published in October 2018, your archivist learned that Roseanne had died on September 8, 2018.  S. Marguerite Wolf shared that she had worked with Roseanne when she was in New Lexington and that they had continued to keep in touch over the years.  So, enjoy this excursion down memory lane and remember Roseanne and her family in your prayers.

 “Memories,” cont’d 

After talking about her gym locker, Roseanne continued:  Since I’m still in the gym, do you remember the noon hours,  when we danced to the old piano rolls?  I can see Mary Studer pumping away as the sounds of “Cecelia” and “It’s Three O’clock in the Morning” provided the beat.  I never could figure out who was doing the leading. “Those were the days, my friends!”

            I’m really smiling as I think of those classy gym suits.  Short sleeves, big legs, hard to get in and out of, the very first “jump suit.”  I couldn’t get in or out of it without working up a sweat.  Oops, I forgot, “young ladies” don’t sweat, they perspire.  Many a time I wanted to just rip it off.  Of course, “The Hulk” wasn’t discovered as yet.

            Can you still swing the dumb-bells?  There certainly was a knack to it without hitting yourself in the head.  Jane Watson could swing them every which way.  And the “Grand March!”  My date and I led it at New Lexington Alumnae Dance the year we graduated.  Sure was glad I’d paid attention.

            This brings me to Mrs. Kishler and her hop, shuffle, ball change, all done without the aid of taps.  Every once in a while I go into my little dance.  Remember Helen Murphy to-tapping on the drum?  She sure could beat out the rhythm without missing a step.  Oh, once I was a bunny in a review, complete with the long ears and the big fluffy cotton tail.  Weren’t we great?

            I can smell and taste the fudge on “Old Farm Day.”  How good it was, even though it was always slightly scorched.  The walk to the farm seemed forever, but skipping a little got me there a little faster.  The sisters, on this particular day, seemed to become one of us as they joined in the fun.

            Louise and I had been classmates at St. Rose, but during the next years we were to become bosom friends, forever.  As we walked to and from school, we talked about everything.  We tried to figure out the minds of boys and how our relationships would develop.  We picked out names for our children and dreamed, dreamed, dreamed.  Too bad we didn’t record those conversations.  Probably be a best seller.

            For our tuition over the years, we set the tables, ironed clothes, cleaned the classrooms, and as always, we were together.  We shared and shared alike.  . . .       One day we had a surprise English test—one of those when any piece of paper would do.  So I tore a piece off mine and gave it to Louise.  When the tests were returned, Sr. Isabelle had written on mine, “Great minds,” and on Louise’s, “Run in the same channel.”  It seems our answers were so much alike and sitting across the room from each other, we hadn’t copied.  Thank the Lord for small favors!!

            This brings me to Frankie, the gal with more than one sweater.  I would have frozen if she hadn’t shared one with me during those cold winter days.

            How hungry I’d get, as the aroma from the twister donuts and fresh baked bread drifted into the classroom.  I ate many a slice while doing the noon dishes.  Sr. Ruth made sure her helpers didn’t go hungry.

            I remember leaving study hall to sew for Sr. Ita, so Irish, and always praying she might visit “the old sod” before she died as her fingers moved over the beads.  When the Academy closed, Sr. Christina, gave me her rosary with the pearl shamrock on it.  The crosses on the purificators and the corporals were embroidered using one thread and making very tiny stitches.  After a while we had to stop sewing, because we weren’t allowed to leave the study hall.  You can’t win ‘em all. 

            Sitting here thinking about those years; and the impact they had upon my life, brings a prayer to my lips for the good sisters whose moral values and high ideals were given to me in a steady diet of dedicated service.

            I know I received the best education possible, not only scholastically and spiritually, but socially as well.  Sr. Leo saw to that.  Do you recall the Friday morning etiquette sessions?  The proper way to sit, legs never crossed, one foot a little before the other; meeting an older person on the stairs; leaving a room; using the right fork; moving the spoon away from you when served soup and after eating, fold the napkin only if you are going to eat another meal at the same table.  Remember?  How many times have you said, “excuse my left hand,” when improperly taking something from someone?

            We don’t forget, do we . . .

                                                            [to be continued]

October 2018

As another school year has begun for a 21st century generation, it is interesting to read about the experience of an earlier time.  This reminiscence was composed by Roseanne Nash Eumen, younger sister of our S. Euphemia Nash, who unexpectedly found herself at St. Aloysius Academy in New Lexington “back in the day.”  Although Roseanne did not date her writing, it seems that it was probably composed about 1989.

Memories

                I suppose I should begin at the beginning.  As I remember, it happened quite unexpectedly when, one afternoon, a knock sounded on our door and answering it found Mother Lima from S.A.A. standing there.  She was a very stately lady, with a ready smile and kindly eyes.  Upon entering the house, she asked to see my mother and after talking for a few minutes I was called into the room.

            The nature of her visit was soon made known to me.  Due to over-crowding at St. Rose School, some of the girls were being invited to attend S.A.A. for their 7th and 8th grades.  I was one of the invited!!  I remember how I felt, very excited and honored, but a little apprehensive.

            The next few weeks were spent in finding uniforms.  My cousin, Tillie, had graduated from S.A.A. and had two middies and a black pleated skirt.  This was the dress for fall and spring.  The winter uniform was a navy serge dress, sporting two pleats on either side, front and back, loosely belted at the waist.  The collar was white and on special occasions, white cuffs were added to the long sleeves.  Black cotton stockings and oxfords completed our dress code.  Very warm and very sensible.

            Of course, with the passing of time the middy and skirt were replaced by a cotton short sleeved chambray dress and the serge gave way to the navy jumper and light blue blouse.  The oxfords and cotton stockings never changed, but the color went from black to a medium tan.  We really looked classy, didn’t we?  I don’t know about the rest of you, but to this day I never can wear medium tan hose.

            The first day of school finally arrived.  Armed with very little courage and much enthusiasm, I hurried up the hill.  Sitting atop that hill was St. Aloysius Academy, visible from every direction, a landmark that spoke of service to God and the local community.  The chapel steeple reached into the sky and its bell called us to prayer.

            I walked into the gym ready to become a full-fledged S.A.A. “young lady.”  Those two words, “young lady” made a lasting impression.  To me, it meant I was someone special.  Special to God.  Special to the Sisters and special to my new found friends.  This was the beginning of a six-year experience that unfolded day after day, year after year.

            Gathering in the study hall, we were assigned desks and briefed on the school’s rules.  The study hall was the same when I graduated as on that first day.

            The 7th and 8th grade classroom was down the hall and just around the corner.  It had three windows, 12 desks and chairs and was very small.  Sr. Laurissa’s desk was so close I could reach out and touch it, if I dared.  There was ample room in the desk for all my school needs, so the locker in the gym held my coat, boots, lunch, gym clothes, and oh yes, a very important item, my lipstick.  The key to the locker was to be worn on my belt.  Using it was only a formality, because I trusted everyone and can’t remembering losing anything.

[to be continued]

May 2018

Each convent and ministry location has its own tale of beginning—some are fairly straight-forward, others more convoluted or even downright harrowing.  Nonetheless, our foremothers who moved with courage and dedication into new endeavors and new abodes did so secure in the knowledge that God would provide.  In this issue we learn a bit about Sacred Heart Convent, Columbus, Ohio—which, from its picture and stories told by residents of a later era, could have done duty as the site for filming of “The Addams Family!”

The first sisters in what was the new Sacred Heart Parish were actually the “overflow” from St. Vincent Orphanage which in 1875 found itself with too many sisters to accommodate. With the permission of M. Aloysia Lenders, Mother Sophia Dahlhausen and her community of Sisters Martha Muhlen, Callista Colle, Felicitas Dues, and novices Ignatia Fischer and Margaret Hoesel moved into the original church/school complex on Easter Sunday, April 16, 1876.

“At last Father Eis was able to begin the erection of a new convent; the foundations were laid on April 16, which happened to be the tenth anniversary of the opening of the sisters' work here.” 

“The new convent  building was on the north side and connected with the school structure.  To obtain the necessary money, Father Eis once more began his former task of going from door to door to collect; and the people responded so generously that by the end of the year the building was paid for. . . .

“The house was blessed on December 30 of that same year, but owing to the severe cold which then prevailed, the community had to practice patience yet a little longer, and did not take up their abode in their new quarters until the fifth of February 1887.  On that day, the feast of St. Agatha, who is invoked against fire, they took breakfast for the first time in their new refectory.  They seem to have been thoroughly delighted, as we can easily imagine, and the chronicle relates that in the evening the sisters asked each other how they felt in their new home.  The unanimous reply was that they felt ‘strange,’ as if they were out visiting and not in their own abode; they simply could not realize that this beautiful convent was really for them.  For eleven years they had lived in the schoolhouse with no comfort, no privacy, and the present state of things seemed to them too good to be true. 

“How touching is the gratitude of these simple-hearted Franciscans!  We can hardly agree with them in calling Sacred Heart Convent ‘beautiful’ with its dark rooms, its perilous winding stairs, and its refectory down in the basement, but a vast improvement it was upon what had been their quarters for the past eleven years!

“. . . [In 1891] a step, if not a stride, was made in the path of progress when hot water heating was installed in the school, church, and convent.  Farewell to the stoves which caused so much labour, dirt, and inconvenience.”

From:  S. Liguori Mason:  History of the American Foundation, 1874-1924; unpublished manuscript

December 2017

FROM THE ARCHIVES

For a number of years now, we at Stella Niagara have been blessed by visits from representatives of St. Ann’s Hospital, Westerville, OH.  These members of the administrative, medical, foundation, and hospital staffs come to keep in touch with and learn more about their “roots” in the Sisters of St. Francis. 

As early as 1905 the sisters had been asked to take over a foundling asylum in the Columbus diocese.  Although the initial reaction of the German provincial was to refuse because the work was outside the scope of the usual charitable works done by the sisters, “the pressing need outweighed tradition, and the new apostolate was accepted.” [Archer, 1987] Beginning in 1908 the sisters faithfully served the mothers and children and later general hospital patients until the 1990s when Holy Name Province terminated its participation in the Mt. Carmel Health System.

When the visitors come, one of their highlights is a visit to the province archives where they pore over early St. Ann’s documents including the original chronicle and photographs.  During the recent visit in November, the following chronicle selections caught my eye as good material for our December ATP and, although not of the earliest time period, the photographs of later generations of St. Ann’s children celebrating Christmas testify to the continuing generosity of friends and benefactors in Columbus.

            From the “Chronicle of the St. Ann’s Infant Asylum, Columbus, Ohio”

The first Christmas Day at St. Ann’s was a most joyous one for the Sisters and their little charges.  Many generous people tried to make it a day of great rejoicing for the little homeless babies.  Mr. and Mrs. Albert Joyce who had just lost their own little child devoted the money which would have been spent on him to the Christmas treat for the infants.  A splendid tree was put up and trimmed in the Kindergarten, while all around, the tables were loaded with presents.  The Right Rev. Bishop and several priests came to the celebration on Christmas evening when the little ones recited and sang for their kind visitors, and it was quite a hard job to induce the children to leave their toys when bed-time came.  (1908)

Christmas time once more brought many delights to the little ones.  Our tree was lighted up with electric bulbs.  Right Rev. Bishop, Rev. Father Goldschmidt and Rev. Father O’Neil came to assist at the Christmastree celebration.  There were many presents donated again this year.. . .  We began the new year with fifty little ones and four patients.  (1909)

October 2017

Do you recall a publication called Connections which appeared in the three U.S. provinces back in 1990.  It led up to the Chapter of Mats held at Stella in the summer of ’90 and featured stories and memories from Holy Name, Sacred Heart, and St. Francis Provinces.  The April ATP included the Connections’ features on “events that have shaped our lives as provinces and as community.”  Reprinted here is the section from Holy Name Province which focused on an old community song from the Franciscan Song Book.  The song included many of the old customs which some of us (but not all!) experienced in the past:

Do you remember cupkins, kimkins?

Do you remember sheets in shredkins?

Do you remember mangle-stopping?

Do you remember Tuesday, weary?

Too early rising, eyes shut, bleary?

Do you remember days of yore?

That’s what a jubilee’s for.

Do you recall hauling pails of water?

Up flights of stairs when you knew you oughter?

Do you remember sandals, bread boards?

Do you recall those bedside clapboards?

Do you remember cherry picking?

Do you remember spiders sticking?

Do you recall the days gone by

When you were young and spry?

Do you remember paper-bailing?

Do you remember scorching veiling?

Do you remember mirror hinges?

Do you remember home-brew binges?

Do you remember who swallowed Herr Sharp’s lunch and all that followed?

Let us recall the long ago, now before we go.

At that time, S. Isabelle Reilly explained some of the references within the song.  Even more so now than then, this is particularly helpful for those of us too young to have had those experiences.  She recalled that at 4:40 a.m. S. Vera’s sandals would slap-slap down the corridor preceding the call to rise (“Stehet auf die Ihr schlaft, Jesus Christus wird Euch erleuchten.” which translates to “Rise ye who sleep, Jesus Christ will be your light.”  The expected response was “Deo gratias,” but one can’t help but wonder if that was a universal thought!).

As the sisters came down for breakfast, each went to her place with her 6”x10” wooden bread board.  Each board had the sister’s name painted on it.  The bowls were known as kimkins (anglicized from kümpchen which doesn’t seem to be in a modern German dictionary) and cups were without handles.  Potato  peeling was an important morning task.  Every Tuesday was laundry day and, according to S. Isabelle, the mangle always seemed to live up to its name and “mangled” the sheets.  She remembered that candy was a treat at lunch that made up for some of the hot and harried work in the laundry.

There was “good” water at the outdoor pump which meant it had to be hauled up four flights of stairs to the dorm. (Does anyone remember where the pump was located?  In the corner to the left of the time clock door?)  Beds were bunk beds with clapboard sides and cornstalk mattresses—with all the attendant rustle.  To wash, one knelt on the floor and used her Franciscan foot pan.  The spider reference was for those who lived at “the Normal” (the old Sacred Heart on Washington Street) and were used to seeing many of the nocturnal visitors.

Spring was time for cherry picking.  The ladders were not overly sturdy but the sisters were given permission to do some instant canning and the chore became a challenge.  Mirrors, of course, were not to be found but creativity led to the use of the shiny steel hinges on the bathroom doors.  Home-brew, cellar-cured, was considered one of the special feastday treats (now we’re more apt to have box wine and Labatt’s).

S. Isabelle didn’t explain the reference to Herr Sharp, but this was probably Mr. Sharpe who was an early cadet commandant, and your archivist supposes that his lunch may have fallen victim to his hungry dog.  If anyone really knows what this refers to, please contact the archives!

June 2017

          In this season of commencements and honors, From the Archives notes that the Buffalo News the morning of May 20, 1990, featured an article concerning the Niagara University Commencement held the previous day at which our own Sister Mary Frances Welch received the University’s Caritas Medal.

           She received the award “because her life reflects ‘the charity of St. Vincent de Paul, the 17th century Frenchman from whom this university takes its inspiration, and who had a special concern for the poor, the sick and the outcast of society.’”

           The article went on to explain that, since 1977, Sister Mary Frances had been serving as a liaison of the New York State Education Department with the 80 statewide private colleges and universities and the 13 state prisons that had the Higher Education Opportunity Programs (HEOP—state-supported effort providing tutorial assistance and funding to give academically and economically disadvantaged students the chance to succeed in college).

            The citation accompanying the medal was signed by Brian J. O’Connell, C.M., then president of Niagara University.  It elaborated on Mary Frances’ career during which she had spent about 20 years as a teacher and principal in elementary schools in New York, Ohio, and West Virginia.  After receiving her master’s degree in philosophy from Niagara in 1967, she began her tenure at Rosary Hill/Daemen College where she directed the college’s HEOP program.  In 1974 she helped to found the Consortium of the Niagara Frontier, which was sponsored by Canisius and Daemen Colleges and Niagara University.  At the time she received the Caritas medal, the Consortium had college programs in Attica, Wyoming, and Collins correctional facilities in the Western New York area.

April 2017

FROM THE ARCHIVES

            In 1989 The Buffalo News’ Religion Reporter, Dave Condron, wrote an article in connection with the annual Catholic Charities Appeal.  The article featured our own S. Ritamary Fuest who, at the time, was working at the Holy Innocents Day Care Center.  Ritamary had been working there for several years and cared for those in the youngest group (2-18 months).

Sister Ritamary

            The Center was one of 64 sites providing services under the aegis of the diocesan Catholic Charities.  It was the largest of three day-care centers operated then by the diocese and was located in the former St. Mary of Sorrows Elementary School at 30 Rich Street in Buffalo.  The center accepted children between the ages of eight weeks and five years old.

            In 1989 there was a waiting list of over 150 children whose parents were hoping to get them into the center which already housed 100 children.  Monsignor John Conniff, then diocesan director of Catholic Charities, noted in the article that officials felt that, despite the need, they were operating at capacity and that to accept additional children would not be wise.  “We think that is about all we can handle on the first floor of that building.  If we get beyond that, it will be hard to maintain the quality,” he was quoted as saying.

Msgr. Conniff

            S. Ritamary explained that even though the children for whom she was responsible were very young, they received a lot of attention.  “People think they sleep, get changed and get bottles.  But there are lots of activities.”  She went on to list some of them:  a variety of “art activities” for those a bit older, outdoor rides in a six-passenger, seatbelt-equipped wagon, and “music lessons.”  The latter she said was when “they all cry at once.”

            Holy Innocents Day Care Center opened on Dodge Street in 1970 and then was moved to Rich Street.  S. Ritamary ministered there from 1985-1997 and later continued to work with young children in the Montessori Program at Stella Niagara Education Park 1999-2011.

            Looking back twenty-eight years to her time at Holy Innocents, Ritamary said, “It was a good time.  I enjoyed every minute working with the little children!”

February 2017

S. Vivian Rauch was an instructor in the Education Department at Rosary Hill College from 1963-1977.  During her last year of classroom teaching she also became the director of the children’s learning center where she remained for 13 years.  In her own words S. Vivian tells about the center:

“In September 1976 I assumed the position of Director of the Daemen College Children’s Reading Center located in the apartment building at 18E Campus Drive . . . In May of 1977 when I retired from college teaching, I devoted myself full time to the Center.  At that time three other teachers were assisting me.  When I was forced to leave in March 1978, due to serious illness, I turned over the administration to one of the most competent teachers for the remainder of the school year and the following summer session.

When I returned in September of 1978, I relinquished all my tutoring and concentrated on expanding the center’s operations by introducing mathematics instruction.  Eight teachers were employed by this time so another apartment was opened for our use.

In May of 1981, Dr. Robert Marshall, President of Daemen College informed me that incoming freshmen would need both apartments, so I could either close the Center or seek new quarters for its operation.  Providence directed me to St. Leo the Great Elementary School.  Monsignor McDonnell welcomed the opportunity to rent some vacant classrooms.

On June 24, 1981, we relocated in the Dineen Wing of St. Leo’s School utilizing four rooms which were cooler and far more spacious than those in the apartments.  The center was now operating independently of the college but retained the name Daemen in its new title, Daemen Children’s Learning Center.  Our new location is so centrally located that we now draw pupils from Buffalo, Amherst, Tonawanda, Kenmore, Grand Island, Clarence and Williamsville.

In the spring of 1985, Monsignor McDonnell informed me that he planned to close off the Dineen Wing of the school and bring all the children into the main building.  After looking for other accommodations, I again met with Monsignor and prevailed upon him to keep our center at St. Leo’s.  This was made possible by rearranging our schedule and using other classrooms.

We still continue to use the Dineen Wing in the summer months when no heating is needed.  So far this arrangement has proved satisfactory, both for the faculty and children.”

 S. Vivian continued to direct the center until 1989 when, as she put it, she could “finally retire and assume a less demanding position.  She moved to Stella Niagara where she helped in the Health Center before becoming a resident herself.  S. Vivian died September 30, 1992.

November 2016

In 1988 the Perth Amboy Catholic School (PACS) in New Jersey was one of forty Catholic schools throughout the nation selected by the National Catholic Educational Association (NCEA) Parent Department Awards Committee to receive the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Award.  The award, established in 1981, was created for communities which opened or reopened schools, expanded a school’s educational services to serve new populations, or consolidated educational services to serve a community more effectively.

At the time, Sister Nancy Grassia was administrator of the 889-studentschool and she accepted the award given in the category of Mergers and Consolidations.  The award ceremony took place at the annual NCEA convention in New York City on April 6, 1988.

Sister Nancy Grassia

In her remarks, Sister Nancy expressed her belief that Perth Amboy Catholic School could actually be recognized in all three categories as it had been able to “do something for the total community of Perth Amboy.”  The school provided an opportunity for the city’s children to receive the benefit of a quality Catholic school education.  “The St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Award is a tribute to the courage of the bishop, the staff of the diocesan Schools Office, and all the priests, religious, and laity in the Diocese of Metuchen who embarked on such a major undertaking as Perth Amboy Catholic School,”  Sister Nancy said.  She noted that specific advantages were now available in the merged facilities which were located on four separate campuses.  These included the presence of more religious and priests, a chemistry and biology lab for grades five through eight, special teachers for art, music, physical education, and computer science, as well as full-time librarians on each campus.  A hot lunch program was also available on each campus.  Because of financial limitations, these special services were not able to be offered at the original six separate schools which joined in 1987 to form the new PACS.

Today, PACS continues to serve 252 K-8 students in two age-appropriate buildings.  The Seton Award has also changed over the years and since 1991 has honored individuals whose personal or professional philanthropy or volunteer service has impacted Catholic education in particular and/or U.S. education and our country’s youth in general.

September 2016

In 1988, one Betty Jo Parsley penned a tribute to the Sisters of St. Francis who founded and staffed Mt. St. Mary Hospital in Nelsonville, Ohio.  Her tribute was reprinted in the April ATP of that year.  Entitled, “Faith That Built Hospital Still Present,” the article extolled the care of the sisters for the patients and the tremendous faith and courage that the early sisters had in order to make the dream of a hospital come true.

In Betty Jo’s words we read:

The founders of the former Mount St. Mary Hospital in Nelsonville, now Doctors Hospital, would be proud of the excellent nursing care that is being given there today.

The story of the local hospital is a story of faith, the kind of faith rarely seen in the business world.  It surpasseth all understanding.  It is good to recall the story occasionally, to renew our own faith at times when it may seem that the lamp is burning a trifle low.

It is mentioned now because my father, the late Joe Keller, was a patient there and the care he received was outstanding.  [Wonderful care was also given to other members of her family.]

I certainly do not intend to compare the staff of Doctors Hospital today with the Sisters of St. Francis who built it, but I do want to emphasize that the faith that sustained the hospital from the first day its construction was announced is still ever present.

In 1950 on October 10, a small band of “pioneer” Sisters of St. Francis, headed by their superior, came to Nelsonville to establish a temporary convent home on East Columbus Street pending completion of the new hospital. [Betty Jo is mistaken in the year.  The first sisters arrived on October 10, 1949.  They were Mother Lidwina Jacobs and Sisters Lindtrudis Johannpotter, Constantia Crotty, Celine Paul, and Annette Mumm.  By October 29, S. Celine was transferred to St. Ann’s in Buffalo.  S. Raphael Weber soon arrived and S. William Elsener joined the group in November.]

The sainted Sister Raphael, who was permitted to live to see her dream realized and the hospital firmly established, told about the trip she made with Mother Lidwina to a convention of hospital administrators.  One of the speakers discussed the problems facing new hospitals, and this, of course, was something in which the local representatives had more than ordinary interest.

“Under no circumstances,” the speaker emphasized, “should a new hospital consider opening its doors without at least $150,000 in cash for working capital.” [This was 1950 after all!]

“And to think,” said Sister Raphael, “here we had just opened one, with some 60 to 65 people on the payroll, and we have not one penny left to pay current bills.  With work we were acquainted, in prayer we have abundant faith, but capital we have none.”

Cost of completely equipping the hospital had exceeded estimates, and when the doors swung open in April 1950, the treasury of the Sisters of St. Francis was bare.  They were as poor as the famed saint of Assisi in whose name their charities are practiced.

It is not publicly known, but the first payroll was borrowed from the provincialate in Stella Niagara, which had shouldered the $625,000 hospital obligation, in addition to another heavy debt of more than half that amount used in construction of a college in Buffalo.

The sisters were then and are now millionaires in reverse.  If the citizens of Nelsonville had a small part of their faith, some of their devotion, and a willingness to work and to sacrifice, the matter of building factories, schools, and homes for people who want them would cease to trouble.

We are grateful to the sisters for coming to Nelsonville.  We are also grateful for the Board of Directors of Mount St. Mary Hospital who worked and were successful in making the dream continue when Doctors Hospital of Columbus took over in June 1980.  Doctors Hospital continues to be a modern miracle, a shining example of the power of faith combine with work.

                                    --Betty Jo Parsley

July 2016

A new parish, that of St. John the Evangelist, was organized by the Rev. S. P. Weisinger in 1898.  About 75 families formed the congregation and for the first 18 months; in default of a church, services were held in the Chapel of the Josephinum College on East Main Street.  Every Sunday two sisters from St. Vincent’s went thither to teach a Sunday School class.

The church was built and the cornerstone laid on July 3, 1898.  Later a school was built in 1905.  Father Weisinger was still the pastor.  The building had 8 large classrooms and an auditorium and was dedicated in 1906 by Bishop Hartley. 

In September 1906, “sisters from St. Vincent’s Orphanage took up work at St. John’s Parochial School.  These first teachers were Sisters Seraphine, Constantia, Leocadia, Blandine, Innocentia, and Imelda.  As there was no convent for them as yet, they went back and forth to St. Vincent’s every day.  (This) entailed a good deal of hardship in winter, as it was a long way and there is no car line on Ohio Avenue.  Hence they looked forward with eagerness to the time when there would be a convent attached to the school. 

Two years after the opening of the school, the convent was erected, and on August 22, 1908, Mother Lucy of St. Vincent’s conducted to their little home on Ohio Avenue the first sisters destined for St. John’s Convent; these were Mother Borgia, Sisters Clementine, Leocadia, Blandina, and two novices.  They were welcomed with the greatest cordiality by Father Weisinger, and the dedication of the convent took place at once.  It was the octave of the Feast of the Assumption, and therefore the sisters trusted that the Blessed Mother would look down from the heights of Heaven upon this new Nazareth and give her special protection to the work; and they probably felt too, that one could hardly be under the patronage of the Beloved Disciple without being very near to the heart of the Mother of Christ.”

-- From:  S. Liguori Mason’s MSS History of the American Foundation, 1874-1924

   Photo St. John Convent and School, c1924

MARCH 2016

Over the years Buffalo’s Sacred Heart Convent and Academy have undergone location changes, name changes, building changes, program changes.  From Washington Street to Main Street, from Herz Jesu Kloster to Sacred Heart Convent; from motherhouse to high school, grade school, normal school, boarding house; from from one building to several buildings, which today include Clare Music Hall and the new convocation center/athletic facility.  Evolution and flexibility seem to have been constant hallmarks of Sacred Heart’s history. 

In the following exerpt from the 1905 provincial chronicle we read about some of the early changes at which stemmed from the acquisition of a new piece of property.

 The motherhouse, Buffalo, N.Y.:  About the end of January, our next door neighbor, Mr. Putman, died suddenly.  An occasion offered itself to purchase his property (house and lot).  His heirs made the offer to us and it looked tempting.  The transaction was handled by a man (a friend of the sisters), Mr. Rittling by name, thus relieving us of carrying on the negotiations.  About the time of the feast of St. Joseph, March 19, the deal was settled and the property became ours for $20,000. . . . Up to date, the "Putman" house, which we had acquired, received no attention.  Thorough cleaning, repairs and some renovations began in August.  We had decided to use it as a kindergarten for our children and let out the remaining rooms to women who cared to board here.  Everything worked out well.  By the end of September all was going on well; the children were happy in their new kindergarten; four rooms had been rented out to ladies; about seven rooms were as yet unoccupied but requests for them soon followed.

                                    --From:  Provincial Chronicle--SHA, Buffalo, N.Y., 1900-1907

FEBRUARY 2016

Over the last several issues, we have been following the adventures of St. Aloysius Academy alumna Alice Holmes who served with the American Red Cross in Russia during the first world war.  Her experiences have been diverse and not without their ups and downs.  In this final installment we read that once again, Alice and her traveling companions have found themselves temporarily stranded.  Having made the journey from Russia to Bergen, Norway, in January 1917, they discovered that the exigencies of wartime could (and did) disrupt plans and force changes in travel arrangements.  Amazingly enough, although the war was raging not far from them, their location in a neutral country and having sufficient funds at hand allowed them to make the most of what could have been a most difficult situation. Having been forced to leave the ship in Bergen, and not knowing when they might continue, they became tourists!

            There was a ferry to take us from the steamer to the town and there was much to see there of interest.  But we kept our quarters on the steamer and each night were back to it thinking that we might sail on the morrow.  At the end of the month we were told to get off as the steamer had received permission to sail without passengers.  So there we were left in Norway and we made good use of the time to see the people and to get acquainted with their customs.  We traveled to Christiana, then to Stockholm, Sweden.  There we went through the Palace of the King and stayed at the Grand Hotel Royal, claimed to be the most magnificent hotel in the world.  We had ample time to enjoy the wonderful, gorgeous scenery of these northern countries and to watch the occupations and sports of the people.

            The Swedish people are more aristocratic than the Norwegians.  In Norway we found so many who knew English, but in Sweden the French and German languages were more in use.

            From Stockholm we went once more back to Christiana and then to Bergen.  During this ride we saw some of the most magnificent scenery.  The trains had a snow-plough in front of the engines to make their way through the heavy [drifts] of snow.  It seemed to us that we were snow-bound, for looking out we could see nothing but snow-capped mountains on either side.

            At Bergen, we boarded the steamer “S.S. Bergensfford” bound for New York.  War had been declared between the United States and Germany so I abandoned my idea of a visit to England and took this first opportunity of returning to America.

            At 11:30 that night the three whistles blew and we knew that this time the English permission had been given and the ship began to sail slowly out of the harbor.  The next morning about nine o’clock we had what was to us a very amusing experience—a life belt drill—for full well we knew that the voyage before us might prove one of peril.  There were 1,145 passengers on board and mostly Americans.  We kept a sharp lookout for submarines, etc., but all went peacefully until suddenly the steamer stopped on the high seas.  This proved to be no danger for us however, for it was an English Man of War.  The officers boarded our steamer to examine it and in the meantime we amused ourselves throwing oranges and fruit to the sailors who had remained in the row boats beneath.

            The English search being completed we continued on our way without any more interruptions until we reached Halifax, Nova Scotia.  By an English law we had to first anchor at an English port.  We remained in Halifax four days until the examination was over, then we set sail for New York.

            Just the day before we were to reach our destination the captain came in and to our utter amazement announced that he had found a Stowaway.  Now a stowaway is a person hidden on the steamer for some secret purpose of his own and this meant trouble indeed for the ship.

            We would have to remain on board in new York for a long time until the English authorities could be satisfied.  You may imagine our consternation but finally our anxiety was relieved and we laughed heartily when he told us that the stowaway was an innocent little new born babe.  We were all asked to give a name for the little baby girl and quite a variety of names were suggested, but the one that won the father’s heart (he was a Swedish American) was “Unda Marina” (One born on the sea).

            Gradually the shores of America came in sight—the Statue of Liberty was visible and the joy and exultation on board knew no bounds.

            Our perilous voyage was over.  We had come to a safe harbor and eagerly we scanned the shores for faces of friends and loved ones.  It was good, so good to me to see once more my dear mother’s countenance and to feel myself safe within her loving embrace.

            After spending some time in New York, I returned May 3rd to Columbus, and here I found so many friends and such a warm welcome.

            Also I heard of our Alumnae Reunion to be held this month, and of this the Alumnae number of the Echoes and was asked if I would not write an account of my journey.  Of course I was only too glad to do so, but the diary which I had kept had to be left in Russia, as nothing written might be taken out of the country.  It is in safe keeping there, to be sent to me after the war.  In the meantime I had to rely on my memory and yet I trust that this account will prove of interest to my readers and onetime schoolmates.

            It was a trip of unvaried interest for me, as traveling through a foreign land, among unknown scenes must always be—a trip full of delightful experiences and yet overshadowed by the sad and tragic scenes of the war.  I was not in the war zone—going and returning through neutral countries, and having [been] for the greater part of my stay [in] Russia where no actualfighting has taken place; still, all through the neutral countries, Norway, Sweden, etc., there were soldiers on all sides—big, strong, stalwart men—being prepared in daily drill, in case of their country’s entering the conflict—there was the Russian hospital, there were the refugees from Bucharest, there were the passports to be had at every port we passed through.  I have been in Europe before.  Indeed you all know that my native land is England, that I spent five years in a French school, but in those days you needed not passports to go from one country to another for peace reigned and the peoples of the different nations were as friends.  But now that so many are engaged in deadly warfare there is nothing but suspicion and distrust on all sides and even in the neutral countries strangers are carefully watched for they know not if you come as friend or foe.  But our party received none but courteous treatment on all sides; we met with no specific dangers or perils, so we enjoyed the trip to the utmost.  It was a rare opportunity afforded us and we appreciated it—every minute of the journey bringing its note of human interest whether of joy or of sorrow.  But it is over now and we are glad—so glad to be back once more in the land of the Stars and Stripes.

                                    --Alice M. Holmes

[Echoes/St. Aloysius Academy; Alumnae Number; Vol. X No. 11   June 1917]

October 2015

            St. Aloysius Academy graduate Alice Holmes and her companions completed their three-month service in Russia and bid farewell to their patients and the staff in the Petrograd hospital at the end of January 1917.  Here we pick up with Alice’s description of the group’s trip home.

            This was before the great uprising in Russia which has banished the Czar, the Empress, and other members of the Royal family from the Imperial Palace.

            On the train with us, as we were going to Krylbo, Sweden, was a party of refugees from Bucharest, Rumania, and from them we heard some of the saddest, most tragic stories of the war.  One was a young Belgian who had been making his living in Bucharest.  His home was in a little village just outside the capitol.  He was in the city but when the bombardment of Bucharest by the Germans began, he went at once to his home—but found the village raided—his wife and child gone.  Without home—or that which makes home, wife and child—he was on his way to France.

            There was another, a Belgian also, whose home had been in Bucharest.  He sent his wife and children to Odessa.  He remained in Bucharest until the last minute, trying to persuade his servants to seek safety in flight, but they would not go—staying to watch his property.  At last he left the city and for two months remained in a tunnel by day and came out at night for air until the Germans had left that part of the country.  Then he made a long trail of several miles on foot until he reached a train and finally after three month’s time reached Odessa.  He had with him, his wife and children and was taking them to France.

            Such were some of the personal stories which could not but arouse our greatest sympathy and such tragic scenes were part of life in all the warring countries. 

            We reached Bergen, Norway on January 31, hoping to sail the following day for Scotland and I thought I would visit England for a brief period at least.  But the steamer could not leave the port without permission of the English authorities and we had to wait for that permission.

            There was a ferry to take us from the steamer to the town and there was much to see there of interest.  But we kept our quarters on the steamer and each night were back to it thinking that we might sail on the morrow.  At the end of the month we were told to get off as the steamer had received permission to sail without passengers.  So there we were left in Norway . . .

                                --[Echoes/St. Aloysius Academy; Alumnae Number; Vol. X No. 11   June 1917]

JUNE 2015

             This month’s column continues the story of Alice Holmes and her wartime service as a volunteer Red Cross nurse.  Her full account first appeared in the June 1917 issue of the St. Aloysius Academy publication Echoes. 

            After having arrived in Petrograd and getting settled into their quarters in the Palace of Catherine the Great, the nurses soon got down to the work which had brought them to Russia.

            The next afternoon we were taken into that part of the palace which had been turned into a temporary hospital for the wounded soldiers returning from the front.  There were twelve wards, each containing five beds—and two of these wards were given into our charge.  Some of our patients were officers, and some just ordinary soldiers.

            The Russian nurses are called “Sisters of War.”  They wore a gray gathered uniform, a white apron with a red cross on the bib and an all white head dress.  You might think by their dress that they were members of a religious Order but they were in reality the Russian princesses, countesses, and other ladies of high rank who had assumed the duties of caring for the wounded.  Even the Empress assisted in the operating room of her own hospital and with her, were her daughters, the Grand Duchesses.  All were very friendly to us, anxious to take care of us in every way and eager to teach us their customs.  Many of them could talk English but preferred the French language and so I spent many a pleasant hour conversing with them in French.

            From that time on, our life was the daily routine of the hospital  We found the Russian soldier without exception, loyal to his country, bearing patiently his sufferings and only anxious to get back to the front again.                                                                

            We did our utmost to alleviate in as far as possible their pain and suffering and they in turn were most grateful to us.  Their deep appreciation of even the smallest of our services, must always remain with me as one of the finest recollections of our stay in Petrograd.  We did our best also to enliven them and our efforts were greatly rewarded.  They were quick to learn and Miss Murday taught one of her patients to sing several American songs such as “Tipperary” and “Old Black Joe.”

            The three months of our service passed and the time came for us to return to America, so we bade farewell to the Imperial Palace of Catherine the Great, to the many friends we had made within it, and to our soldiers; we left Petrograd January 25, 1917.

April 2015

The last time, we left St. Aloysius Academy alum Alice Holmes in Christiana, Sweden, enroute to her wartime posting in Russia.  This month we catch up with her and her traveling companions as they cross the border and make their way to Russia.  With the Red Cross in Russia continues:

In the evening we took a train to Haparamda, the Swedish border where the custom officers examined our baggage.  We went to the town hotel for our breakfast and not knowing the language we tried to give our orders in German and in French.  We were at a difficulty for words to express our meaning, when the waitress, much to our surprise, said, in very good English:  “Why don’t you say ham and eggs?”

            About 11 a.m. we found the ferry which took us in about twenty minutes to the Forneo, the Finnish border.  The customs there were rather lenient but nevertheless we had to write out papers giving information as to where we had come from, what we intended to do, how long we thought of staying, etc., but these papers had the questions written in about five languages, so that we didn’t need any aid in this.

            A lunch counter was at the convenience of the passengers, but the Russian food was something new for us and we were rather timid about trying it.  However, we managed to find enough to satisfy our appetites for the time being, and boarded the train at about 11 p.m.  The views of Finland were rather monotonous, a continuous stretch of large forests and bowlders (sic) and very often a large or small body of water could be seen, for every one has heard that Finland is called “The country of a thousand lakes.”

            The Russian trains are not like ours here.  There are what they call compartments, two or four berths in a compartment, something similar to cabins on a steamer.  The berths are comfortable, but the trains are very slow, probably due to the fact that they have no coal, and use wood to feed the engines.  All along the railroad tracks there are wood piles for their convenience.

            We arrived in Petrograd, Russia, about 11:30 p.m., September 25, 1916.  The streets were very poorly illuminated, due of course to war conditions.  Again we were troubled about finding rooms, but were finally settled in one of the hotels for that night.

            The Russians are probably the most suspicious of people.  It is the only country that in times of peace requires passports, and so we found it a little difficult to convince them of our mission.  American Ambassador Francis helped us out by referring us to the Foreign Minister of Affairs, who took the matter up with the Empress’ Physician.  He invited us to see the General Soldiers’ Hospital at Tzarskoe Selo (Czar’s Village).  There we won our way performing a bone-graft operation.

            One of the soldiers whose arm had been wounded and hung limp was brought to us and Doctor Downer took a bone from the leg of the man and grafted it into the right place in the arm.  The operation was performed before a large audience and as it was something new in Russia it succeeded where otherwise we might have failed in convincing the Russians of our mission and of our real desire and ability to help them.  Immediately the Empress was notified and we received from her a cordial invitation to stay at the Palace of Catherine the Great in Czar’s Village.

            Just a few words about our suite of rooms.  When the doctor told us of the Empress’ invitation he said in terms of great enthusiasm—“Girls you are to have the grandest quarters you have ever seen.  There will even be gold pens for you to write with.”  We laughed and frankly said he was giving us a much exaggerated picture, but once we had entered our apartments, we found that he had scarcely exaggerated.  We did not find the golden pens on our writing desk but otherwise we were more than surprised at the magnificence and splendor of our rooms.  We were occupying the apartments which in times of peace were reserved for Foreign Ministers.

[Echoes/St. Aloysius Academy; Alumnae Number; Vol. X No. 11   June 1917

February 2015

FROM THE ARCHIVES

Alice M. Holmes, a graduate of St. Aloysius Academy, was drawn to assist the American Red Cross during the First World War.  In 1916 she traveled to Russia and later shared some of her experiences with her fellow SAA alumnae in the pages of Echoes. 

            When the invitation to join the Red Cross Service, bound for Petrograd, Russia, came to me from the hospital in which I had received my nurse’s training, I accepted it gladly and at once announced my willingness to go.

            The party consisted of Dr. Downer, of Lansing, Mich., and three nurses—Miss Scanlon, of Buffalo, N.Y., Miss Murday and myself of Columbus, Ohio.  We left Columbus September 3, 1916, arriving in New York City September 4, hurried around to get passports in order and departed from Hoboken, N.J., on the “Frederick VIII,” a Danish liner.

            The trip was a very pleasant one—the cosmopolitan crowd very interesting and agreeable.  Each one of the twelve days brought to us many pleasures, such as dancing, deck games, etc.

            When within two days of Kirkwall, Scotland, we had the interesting experience of being stopped at about 11 p.m. by an English man-of-war.  There was much excitement among the passengers at first, for we feared it might be a German warship or submarine, but happily, by the circumstance of the boat’s being a British cruiser, the tension was relieved and we settled down in anticipation of our arrival in Kirkwall.  There we stayed for two days for examination and inspection.

            We left Kirkwall on Sunday morning and were on the steamer all that day and the next.  Monday afternoon we began to slowly enter Christiana Fjord.  The beautiful scenic effects of the Fjord were admired by all the members of the party and especially the feature that it was still daylight at 9 p.m.  The wonderful shadows of the Norwegian mountains reflected in the water were truly most picturesque.

            Arriving in Christiana at 9:30 p.m., we spent a rather strenuous two hours trying to secure accommodations, owing to the overcrowded condition of the hotels.  We finally succeeded, however, in obtaining very indifferent sleeping quarters.

            The next morning we had a most amusing if uncomfortable experience.  Not seeing any water to perform our ablutions, we rang for some, and at our request for water we were brought one pint—that was all—and that pint had to be divided among the crowd of us.

            We then proceeded to view some of the interesting points about Christiana.  We motored to a sanitarium which is located about 2000 feet above sea level and at that height we used a telescope to view at different angles the valley below.  We then returned to the city, visiting there museums and different places of interest, incidentally having our passports “vized” in preparation for continuing our journey to Stockholm.  We arrived in Stockholm in the morning and had breakfast at the “Hotel Continental” and from there we took a taxi and toured around the city.  We noticed especially here the King’s Park, which is indeed beautiful.

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December 2014

As we conclude the 75th anniversary year of the three U.S. provinces, the chronicle gives us a few last glimpses of the holidays at the new motherhouses.

            At Marycrest, the first two postulants arrived on September 10 and were joined on the Feast of Christ the King by a third young woman.  “Each of the special feasts so dear to the heart of Mother Magdalen’s daughters brought its particular joy, both spiritual and temporal—that of our Holy Father St. Francis, good St. Nicholas, Christmas and Holy Innocents.  These were revelations to the postulants, and they entered into the spirit of all with a childlike simplicity.”

            At Mt. Alverno, meanwhile, four young women had entered in September.  They, too, were all unknowing, and on the afternoon of December 5 were introduced to the wonders of St. Nicholas.  As they accompanied the professed sisters to the refectory they were greeted by “a glimpse into fairyland.”  Gifts had been supplied by Mothers Clement, Cherubim, Marita, and Tarcissia.

At each place stood a jolly little washcloth man holding a toothbrush under one arm and shoelaces under the other.  A gingerbread man smiled  . . . from his place on a plate of homemade cookies and candy.  A large peppermint stick and a lollypop stuck in a ball of popcorn gave a festive look to the table.  At each place was an envelope . . .holy pictures, Sacred Heart badge, medals, etc.  There were useful gifts too, of soap, pencils, and wearing apparel at each place.

Only a short time remained to Christmas, the first one for the Motherhouse at Mount Alverno (and at Marycrest).  The entire community worked at preparing the spiritual crib.  Surely the Infant Jesus would shower many graces on the convent, and on this their first Christmas.

St. Nicholas visited Stella Niagara as well, of course.  There the sisters in the large refectory “were delighted to find new chairs instead of the benches used formerly.”  Christmas, itself, was somewhat different in that there were no visitors at the Midnight Mass.  It seems that in previous years a number of local pastors had objected to their parishioners going elsewhere for Mass.  That, combined with the fact that the crowd in the chapel continued to increase, led to the decision to discontinue welcoming guests for the midnight mass.  “Our friends were greatly disappointed, especially those who have been coming for many years.”  The chronicler, however, tried to put a good “spin” on things as she wrote, “For us the quiet was most welcome; the sisters appreciated to be able to assist at the Holy Sacrifice without distraction.”