

St. Mary's Original Church was an old school house.

purchased for $400 from Thomas Monteith of Albany, Oregon.

# Stories of Faith

## 125 Years of Discipleship

#### Published by Patricia Proctor

### at Smashwords

##

Modeled after an Abbey church in France, the second St. Mary's was dedicated August 17, 1898. It was shortly the "Gem of the Valley" as Archbishop Gross noted at the dedication. It became the treasure of the community with its pressed fir moldings, elegant furnishings and extensive stained glass.

Stories of Faith

2011 by St. Mary's Parish Press - Albany, Oregon. All rights reserved. No material can be used for resale except by permission from publisher. We encourage you to share these stories, quotes, etc. with your churches, schools, newspapers, parish, church or prayer group—but we ask you to please give credit by including this statement with your copy. For information please contact:

St. Mary's Catholic Church

728 Ellsworth SW

Albany, Oregon 97321

(541) 926-1449

Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of information contained in this book, we assume no responsibility for errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or any inconsistency herein. Any slights of peoples, places or organizations are unintentional.

E-Version July 2012

St. Mary's Catholic Parish Press at 1-541-926-1449.

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**Table of Contents**

Foreword

Fr Metayer

Fr Lane

Fr Albert Carmody

Fr John Waters

Fr Martin Doherty

Fr Mel Stead

Fr Pat Walsh

Fr. John Betts

Fr Andrew Thomas

Answering the Call \- Fr Andrew Thomas

It Must Be Hard For You \- Kathy Reilly

Paper Airplane s \- Rosanne Wilson

No Place Like Home \- Marla Lawrence

No Exceptions \- Richard Amos

Look Left \- Harry Yonemura III

Grateful for the View \- Ann Sirl

Famous Turkey Dinners \- Bob and Kim Dempsey

Take a Second Look \- Fran Pace

The Long Road \- Gary Vosper

As Far As I Can Remember \- Catherine Wolfe

St. Mary's School 1 \- Jessica Julian

St. Mary's School 2 \- Maria Julian

St. Mary's School 3 \- Josh Julian

What the Fire Taught Us \- Jane and John Donovan

Marriage with Conditions \- Mildred Francoeur

Sister Regina Rausch \- Sister Regina Rausch

Is God Real? \- Amanda Marie Gilmour

Sister Marietta Schindler \- Sister Marietta Schindler

Sister Joseph Fennimore \- Sister Joseph Fennimore

We Lost One \- Ann Huster

Different Viewpoints \- Mary Eusterman

St. Mary's School 4 \- Timothy Joseph Eusterman

St. Mary's School 5 \- Laura (Peterson) Eusterman

St. Mary's School 6 \- Martha Eusterman (Bierry)

St Mary's School 7 \- Matt Eusterman

Always Be Loved \- Rosa Guzman

The Steeple in the Window \- Bev Dougherty

The Eighth Sacrament \- Marge Warner

It is Time \- Sondra Peccia

A Home Parish \- Kristin Kelley

Here Comes God \- Jill Porter-Eskell

The Bells of St. Mary's \- Father Pat Walsh (St. Mary's Pastor 1982-1994)

A Piece of Cake \- Sue Mills

Scripture for the Early Risers \- Barbara Kraemer

St Vincent de Paul Jolene Mae Thomson

A Man of Faith \- Ann Huster

St. Mary's Soup Kitchen \- Patricia Proctor

Circle of Life \- Marty Kloeck

You Are a Catholic? - Agnes Keller (Bruner)

I learned Forgiveness \- Marla Lawrence

Weekly Dosage Required \- Joyce Moreira

Many Memories \- John Arthur (Jack) Talbott

A Lesson in Faith \- Charlene (Char) Walters

In Times of Sorrow \- Bill Clotere

A New Direction \- Nancy Kay Haas

Kaleidoscope of Color \- Rita Moore

Don't Tell Anyone \- Kathleen (Rambousek) Schrock

My Husband's Gift \- Kathie Caldwell Sullivan

Why Did God Allow This? - Mary Tence

Our Faith Community \- Linda Carroll

Our Journey of Faith \- Mary Kay Conser

Connections \- Patricia Eich

Sharing the Journey of Faith \- Joan Ratliff

Second Chance \- Berneice Darnell

Best Seat in Church \- Mark Lee

Our Faith Adventure \- Harry and Mary Ellen Eagles

Faith Filled Experiences \- Patty Joy

A Volunteer Catholic \- Pam Bielenberg

We Have to Pray \- Linda Burroughs

Roamin Catholic \- Joseph Holmberg

New Sense of Unity \- Dorothy and Jack Gall

Preparing for Easter \- Maureen Graham

Spiritual Growth \- Norm and Sandy Jager

East to West \- Terri Keefer

Master of Ceremony \- Larry and Carol Lilley

The Swimming Class \- Margaret Maier

God Sightings \- Peggy McDowell

Faith Memories \- Florentine Metz

Passing on the Faith \- Chantelle Schaumburg

Catholic Daughters \- Fran Pace

The Birthday Group \- Anne Peltier

Answered Prayer \- Martha Rhinehart

The Old and the New \- Robert Stalick, Phd

Angels Without Wings \- Pam Weiler

Simple Reflection \- Larry and Beatrice Beary

Reaching Out, Lifted Me Up \- Lorraine Schroeder

Beginning Eucharistic Adoration \- Caroline Trujillo

Shared Memories \- Jim and Bonnie Moore

A Different Light \- Marjean Hellman

Room at the Inn \- Alan Huster

What I Was Missing \- Theresa Krake

Ticket Booth Theology \- Gary and Birdie Siewell

The Little Chapel \- Linda Roblero

With the advent of electricity, the original church was remodeled and beautifully decorated. This church served the parish until the new church was dedicated on August 17, 1898

## Dedicated to all the pastors, religious

## parishioners and friends

## of

## St. Mary's Parish and School

## in

## Albany, Oregon

Foreword

Anniversaries are graced opportunities for counting blessings and dreaming dreams. As St. Mary's Church in Albany commemorates its 125th Anniversary I am delighted to welcome this collection of faith stories from the parishioners in Albany. This project has been a worthy one and will hopefully connect us more effectively with the saints who have gone before us and those who will follow.

Ever since my arrival as archbishop here in western Oregon I have learned a lot about this wonderful parish founded by our third Archbishop, The Most Rev. William Gross. The saddest story of all, of course, was the raging fire which destroyed the first church back in 1989. But St. Mary's was like a phoenix rising to new life out of that fire. Parishioners had every reason to be proud of their heritage and the beautiful new church where they gather for worship. As Father Pat Walsh, the pastor at the time of the dedication of this new church said, "It's a terrific parish, with wonderful, down-to-earth people."

I hope you enjoy the stories in this book. They will help you understand Father Pat's observation which was good back then and is still as good as ever today. As disciples in mission together, the people of St. Mary's continue to make a difference in building the kingdom of God and serving as effective agents of charity and justice in Albany and its environs. May the good Lord bless this work of the hands and hearts of many.

Most Rev. John Vlazny

Archbishop of Portland

# Answering the Call

No, God did not call me by phone to become Pastor here in Albany, but it is interesting nonetheless how I got here.

You see, it was just another day in March when out of the blue, while shopping in Costco, that I received a phone call that would once again throw a curve ball my way. The reason I say this is that whenever I received word of where I was being asked to go in the priesthood it was always not what I expected.

My reaction was no different with the news that March day when I was told that the Archbishop was considering moving me to become pastor of a parish closer to Portland. When you think Portland, you think Portland; at least that is what I thought.

I was told that I would know more information within the next few weeks. So, for the next two weeks you know how a mind works! You try to examine all the possibilities and determine where you might think you could be placed. It was at a meeting toward the end of March that I was notified that the Archbishop had a place in mind for me to become Pastor. I instantly thought about "where" in Portland I would be relocating to. What I heard next was, "the Bishop would like you to become pastor of St. Mary's in Albany."

My response was, "Albany?"

All I could think of was that Albany was not in Portland!

Over the next few days I would pray seriously about this request. It was just a few days later that I visited Albany for the first time, and found that this was where God was calling me to serve. I would accept this invitation on the following Monday, and everything would rapidly unfold from that point until the present day.

You see, God really only leads us exactly where he wants us to go, and he will always journey with us on that path if we let him. I know that I have been abundantly blessed in ministry, and it is no different here at St. Mary's Parish and School. From the very first visit meeting with the staff who warmly welcomed me, to the students at the Catholic School and their welcome signs, cards, and, "Hi Fr. T's" in the schoolyard, I knew this was meant to be. Through the transition more and more parishioners helped me to feel at home at this parish and school.

One of my favorite passages in scripture is "The Road to Emmaus" and it all fits together as we are called to walk on that road with God, trusting that wherever he leads us, we shall follow. As I begin this chapter in my life as Pastor and Spiritual Leader of St. Mary's Parish and School , I encourage you to look at where God is calling you in your journey of life.

Enjoy the stories that are presented to you from many parishioners and school alumni who have had their own experiences over the past 125 years. My prayer is that these stories may help you reflect on your own journey and relationship with God today and into the future.

Father Andrew Thomas

# It Must Be Hard For You

It must be hard for you . . .

I have been the pastoral associate at St. Mary's for more years than I care to write down. Recently I was helping one of our parishioners with her annulment testimony. As she went through her story of physical and sexual abuse by her former husband; suicide attempts and a great spiritual darkness following her divorce, she apologized for "burdening" me with her story. "It must be hard for you..." she said.

As I thought about her statement, I couldn't help but think about the many stories I had heard or lived through during my time here at St. Mary's. There have been so many parents who have lost a dear child... baby Samuel and baby Noah and baby Audrey Rose; babies Jack and Olivia, the twins who died so close to birth; little Casey who was so courageous in the face of her leukemia, and others. It is hard to witness their pain, to want to help even a little; to try to make sense out of such a tragedy.

I thought about a dear friend whose daughter, son-in-law and two grandchildren were killed in a car accident on the far away continent of Africa. I thought about celebrating the "Last Supper" in a dying friend's hospital room – first the Eucharist, then pizza. I thought about watching parishioners suffer through the ravages of cancer or other illnesses – some who survived, others who didn't. I thought about all those stories and so many more.

As I cried my way through the memories, I thought, "Yes, it is hard. But it's more than that; it's humbling and inspiring." I am a romantic at heart, always looking for the happy ending. In the stories and lives that are shared with me, I see the pain but I also see resurrection and hope. Death is not the end! Evil does not win! The human heart always triumphs because each and every one of us is made in the image of our great and glorious God.

I see those who are hurting or bowed down with pain lay their sadness on the altar where it is transformed. I see them standing with their sisters and brothers in faith who hold them up and pray for them, even when they have no voice to pray for themselves.

Our God is so good. God walks with us, and even carries us through our most difficult times. Through the grace of the sacraments and the fellowship of our faith community, we are healed. It's our faith story. We are people of the cross. But more than that, we are people of hope. We believe in resurrection, thanks be to God!

Kathy Reilly

# Paper Airplanes

In the early 70's, our family was new to Albany and St. Mary's. Fr. Mel Stead was the pastor at the time. He introduced me to Nikki, another Italian girl, that was also new to the area. We worked on the bulletin together each week. At that time the bulletin was done on a very old mimeograph machine. It took us almost all day to put it out. Nikki and I both had small children, and they played in the old gym while we worked on the bulletin. We became very close friends having lots in common. We both grow up in large Italian families sharing in the same foods and similar experience.

One Saturday afternoon, Nikki invited my family and Fr. Stead to her home for dinner. During the afternoon, Fr. Stead sat showing the children how to fold paper airplanes and the art of soaring them across the room. He was so patient with them. They practiced folding and flying airplanes all afternoon. Getting more proficient as the afternoon wore on. The following day we went to Mass, picking up a bulletin on our way in. We sat in our usual place, in the front pew. Adele, my daughter, who was usually so naughty in church was very quiet. I was not paying attention to what she was doing; she was quiet! She sat and meticulously folded the bulletin into an airplane, just as Fr. Stead had taught her. She drew back her little arm and sailed that puppy right onto the altar like a pro. Fr. Stead was grinning from ear to ear on how well she picked up the art of folding and flying paper airplanes. He could not have been more proud of her. However, I wasn't! I made her march up to the altar and pick up the airplane.

After all these years we are still laughing over one of the many antics of Adele.

Rosanne Wilson

# No Place like Home

If you're looking for a dramatic story, filled with miracles and visions and revelations of every kind, this isn't it.

This is just a tale about an everyday woman who would love nothing more than to portray herself as a seeker of truth and lover of knowledge, but in reality I'm just a middle-aged version of Dorothy, the little girl from Kansas, who became utterly lost in a strange and frightening place before she finally realized that the happiness she was looking for had been at home all along.

As an enthusiastic convert to Catholicism in my young adult years, I never thought that there would come a time when I would not only question my adopted faith, but reject it entirely. A 'wannabe' ever since the first time I saw "The Sound of Music" as a child, I longed to join the Church, but fearing parental disapproval, I waited until I'd been married for several years to enter the catecumenate. My husband, a non-practicing Catholic at the time we were wed, was very supportive and went with me to many of my RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) classes. Our young children accompanied us to Mass every Sunday, making faith a family affair. The months passed, and before I knew it I was standing before the altar on Easter Vigil to receive the Body of Christ for the very first time.

When we moved to Oregon in the spring of 1988, we attended Mass in another parish for a time, but for some reason we never really connected with it. Then, after our fifth and last child was born in 1991, the baby suffered a health crisis that nearly cost him his life . . . and sent us running back to our faith. That's when we came to St. Mary's of Albany.

The years that followed were happy although challenging due to our poverty and the struggles all young parents face. Our children were all baptized here and attended CCD classes. My husband and I served coffee and donuts on a number of occasions after the eleven o'clock morning Mass. I was also on the Social Concerns Committee, which, among its many accomplishments, established the Parish Nurse Program and helped bring the Anne Frank exhibit here to Albany, as well as being involved with Everybody's Neighborhood, a celebration of diversity begun as a counter to a street demonstration by a white-supremacist group.

In the mid-1990's, however, life changed drastically. Bit by bit, our involvement in parish life diminished as I began nursing coursework at Linn Benton Community College to help my family escape the cycle of welfare dependency. Our marriage suffered many problems during those years as we grew apart, and we very nearly separated a few months before graduation in 1997. (We thank God to this day that we were so poor—we had no choice but to stay together and fight it out!)

More years passed. I worked a number of different nursing jobs; my husband and I regained our former closeness; the children grew up and began to move away. But the intellectual elitist tendencies I had developed during my college years, as well as the horrendous things I saw in my work every day, had taken their toll on my faith, and I began to doubt the existence of God for the first time in my life.

On top of that, I was crazy busy. There was little time for prayer or reflection; days flew by in a blur of activity that left me feeling exhausted and old. Oh, there were times I felt the resurgence of God's presence in my life, like when my grandchildren were born—when I read "The Shack" and experienced a spontaneous healing of the guilt I'd carried for 25 years after my second daughter died—when I listened to an especially moving piece of sacred music or took the time to marvel at His creation.

But unlike people who went to church, I told myself, I was a "spiritual" person who didn't need to be kept in line or told what to believe. I didn't need organized religion telling me how to vote, when I could stop having children, what I could do with my own body. And I certainly didn't need to confess my sins to a priest when God could hear me Himself.

I was proud of my independent spirit and open mind, proud of my "tolerance" for all sorts of beliefs and morality. Then my youngest son, who hadn't set foot inside St. Mary's since preschool, met a Catholic girl at West Albany High a couple of months before graduation—and this is where things get interesting.

Baptized Catholic as an infant, my boy nonetheless knew little about his religion, and when he first started dating this young lady and attending Mass with her, he wasn't especially thrilled. He thought the songs were boring (he was used to the rollicking Christian contemporary music they play at the evangelical church his aunt attends), and he didn't like the structure. But by Christmastime, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and in order to do so, he needed to become . . . a Catholic.

They say that if you live long enough, and allow yourself to experience enough and learn from it, eventually your life comes full circle. Before we knew it, my son was nearing the end of RCIA; as he prepared himself for his first Reconciliation it suddenly occurred to me that maybe—just maybe—I should go with him. I knew his fiancée and her family would be there, but I thought he might appreciate my support as well. I was proud of him for taking this important step, and I figured it was time to prove it.

What I didn't know was that this would be the turning point in my own life. That night, as I sat in the pew next to the son who had somehow become a man while I wasn't looking, I gazed up into the rafters, and was suddenly filled with the same kind of awe that I used to feel all those years ago, when our young family had been active members of this church.

All at once I realized that at long last, I was HOME. This was what had been missing while I wandered in the desert of spiritual homelessness during my thirties and forties. Even though I'd believed my sporadic prayers and Christian book-reading were enough, suddenly I found myself craving something more substantial. In fact, I was starving—starving for want of the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.

The ceremony ended and my son joined the line of parishioners waiting to confess their sins. His fiancé went with him. I watched the two of them for several minutes, my son chattering nervously (albeit quietly) and chewing absently on a fingernail while she whispered what I hoped were encouraging words in his ear. And without even thinking about it, I rose from my seat and took my place in line behind them, not only in solidarity with my son but also out of a desperate need for absolution of my own sins.

Two weeks later at Easter Vigil, I received the Eucharist for the first time in seventeen years alongside my newly-confirmed son. My husband followed shortly thereafter. Now God has reconciled us to Himself, and we've picked up pretty much where we left off all those years ago. Only our grey hair and wrinkles—and the proud-grandparent photos we carry in our wallets—mark the passage of time. And this September, we will celebrate thirty years of marriage by having our union officially blessed by the Church, right here at St. Mary's.

Yes, Auntie Em . . . there's no place like home!

Marla Lawrence

# No Exception

There was a newspaper picture of a man in a fatigue cap blocking the view of an American Soldier looking through field glasses. I asked my Mother who he was and what he was doing. She said he was Fidel Castro and he was "causing trouble." It was the year that Mars candies came out with M&M's peanuts. It was the year of my last Polio shot. Some where in that year, I learned the Lord's Prayer. I remember the church, the grey stone and hard wood pews and I remembered the Lords prayer, taught to me in a basement Sunday school room.

In my later years in High School I had many friends who were Catholic. They would go to CCD class each week and I would go with them. Inevitability Father would point me out and ask something like, "Name one of the seven sacraments!" This being my first CCD class and never having been exposed to Catholic traditions I found this difficult to answer. This seemed a perfectly logical exemption to me to not have the correct answer but my answers were neither perfect or logical to Father.

Later I would attend Mass as a pre-catechumen with my friends and in my first year of college I found myself in RCIA instruction. My second year of college I was baptized into the Roman Catholic Church. About six months after my marriage the church found me again and I studied the Catechism of the Catholic Church and was confirmed. At the Confirmation the Bishop asked me a question about the Creed. I was intimidated by the kindly man and his miter and once again I thought that it seemed perfectly logical that I should be exempt from having to answer his question.

Now with a family, the church was calling to me but money was tight and I felt badly because I could not contribute what I would like to the collection. In retrospect, I realize that to contribute at any level is all that God asks. But at the time I let this guilt at not being able to contribute more, become my excuse for drifting away from the Church. As things happen, my marriage, now with children, began to unravel, and we distanced ourselves from the Church. This was just when I needed the church the most, but I did not turn in the direction I should have.

Years passed. I went to Maryland to attend a military training school and my buddy Brian one Sunday asked if I'd like to go to Mass with him. "Sure," I said, and just like that I was back to becoming a practicing Catholic. Over the next several months I began to reestablish a relation with God, the Mass and with the community. I was not receiving the Eucharist but at least I was participating with the community.

Shortly after returning to the Albany area, I contacted Kathy, the Pastoral Associate at St. Mary's, met with Father Betts and started with the RCIA group in order to refresh my understanding of the faith, while continuing to attend Mass. I had to start an annulment but with time and searching for records, that was successfully completed.

Now remarried and a member of St. Mary's there is a good feeling to be in balance. I know I am in the right place. The Lord's Prayer echoes around me and there is a comfort in community where God's presence is so evident. "Forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone." God and St. Mary's continue to offer balance to me and I hope I offer some balance to my God, St. Mary's and my community.

Richard Amos

# Look Left

out of Hawaii were endless. I told my wife that the only way to get on the flight I needed was to purchase an airline premiere membership. It worked. I got my boarding pass, my bags checked and then we headed off to have a final meal together with family. Most of my family was happy for my success but apprehensive about my traveling at such a dangerous time. The only thing running through my mind was that my wife and I would be apart for three weeks. Prior to this trip we had never been apart for more than a day.

I returned to the airport and said my final goodbyes as I headed for the gate. Feeling the heartbreak of leaving family and friends behind, my eyes filled with tears as I waved a last time before disappearing into the boarding area.

Once I was alone with my thoughts, I started to have self-doubt. I watched the people boarding the plane and noted that they did not resemble the mixture of races I was accustomed to seeing. With a sinking feeling it began to dawn on me, how exceptional would be the changes in my life. The food, people, and customs would all be different. Would I be able to adapt to all these changes?

Five short hours later, I arrived at the Portland International Airport and was very happy to see a familiar face. A high school and college buddy was waiting patiently at the luggage circle. I spent two days in Portland with my friend before making the trek to Albany.

Early Sunday I was awoken to prepare to get to Albany and to attend morning Mass. We attended Mass in Portland close to my friend's home. Everyone was still reeling from the attacks. I don't think there was a dry eye in the whole church when Mass concluded with the hymn, "God Bless America."

Finally, I was headed to my new home. On the drive down, we didn't talk much, our minds still focused on the innocent people who had lost their lives on 9/11. I arrived at my hotel, my temporary home for a week until I could rent an apartment.

My friend drove me around the city so I could get the layout and then we had dinner together before he headed back to Portland. After that, I went up to my room to call my wife and have our daily phone call. This time I had to cut it short so I would get enough sleep for my first day of work. Six a.m. arrived quickly and before I knew it, I was in the hotel shuttle on my way to my first day of work in Albany.

Work here was no different than home. The basic difference was that the warehouse wasn't complete and headquarters were located in a trailer. I hit it off with everyone. I worked with the marketing team going out and signing up new members. In the evenings I went apartment hunting. I found a modest two bedroom one and a half bath apartment close to everything. I signed a lease and prepared to move in on Saturday.

Saturday came quickly. I purchased an inflatable bed, 13" TV/VCR, card table and chairs and all of the items needed to set up our new home. By around 3 p.m. I was done setting everything up and stocking the refrigerator. I decided to make my first trip to downtown Albany. I looked at my map and found my route to and from my apartment. Making my way down Geary Street I made a left onto Pacific. I followed the signs and soon I was making a right to head into the downtown area. As my car crested the hill and started down, out of the corner of my eye I saw the steeple of St. Mary's Church.

At the bottom of the hill I quickly got into the left lane so I could head back to the Church. It was spectacular. It was big. It was beautiful.

I missed the first turn at 8th street so I turned on to 9th and parked in the parking lot. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon and there were cars in the lot. I thought about how lucky I was to see the steeple from that distance. I went in. There were a few people waiting for confession in the Church and others praying. I found a nice seat in the middle of the Church and began to read the bulletin to find out when Mass was going to be; 5:30 p.m. God does work in mysterious ways.

Back home in Hawaii, the Saturday evening Mass was always billed as the old folks Mass. I usually went to Saturday evening Mass so I could sleep in on Sundays. I did not know what to expect. My feelings started changing as I saw musicians showing up. I watched as the pews began to slowly fill. I knew now I would be comfortable here. Mass started on time with the choir leading the congregation singing a song I didn't know but picked up quickly. Everyone here was still feeling the sting of what had happened just over a week ago.

The readings and Gospel went mostly unheard to me. I was more focused on keeping myself from crying. Then Father Betts began to give his homily. I don't remember his exact words but I do remember my heart not aching as much as it was. I remember feeling that things would get better, and though I missed my wife dearly I would be able to make it. I found family at St. Mary's.

It's been nearly nine years since I became a member of St. Mary's Church. In that time I have made new friends, and become active in Church Ministries. My wife and daughter soon joined me and we welcomed another daughter in 2004.

St. Mary's is an important part of my life and the life of my family. Without the support of St. Mary's community, my youngest child would not have stand-in God parents and wonderful role models of both men and women to follow. During these times when we American Catholics are challenged daily to live as Jesus did, St. Mary's is guiding us.

"Just look to your left as you head west down Lyon's Street. You can't miss."

Harry Yonemura III

# Grateful for the View

"You have cancer." Those who have heard these words understand their life changing power and the stubbornness of the adversary. The longer that we have lived with this disease, we feel a sense of triumph over it although we are told who will most likely win in the end. I know that I am not the only one who has come to know cancer as a gift. Some of us need the intensity of the "C" word to act like a wakeup call in our lives. I was one of them. I needed a harsh reminder to appreciate and uncover the many blessings of my life. I needed a hard blow.

How to take battle with cancer is a personal decision and everyone has their own story. My treatment is twofold—every three weeks requires a day in Portland to receive an infusion of life lengthening medicine. But I receive another type of infusion that is just as powerful and has only pleasant side effects. Each day that I come to work at St. Mary's School I get a full dose.

To the one hundred plus students at our school I am Mrs. Sirl and I help the school principal and pastor raise funds and enrollment. But to me, these students and staff are my own army of cancer fighting agents! They are an army—led by the spirit of Christ in each of them. The brightness of their faces, the kindness of their everyday actions, the Christ-like examples they set for one another and those around them, their intelligence, God-given talents, their devoted families – these are potent "medicine" that I absorb eagerly on a daily basis. They have no idea of their strength and influence. I am humbled to be allowed in their presence – the presence of Christ on earth - and to be infused with their energy, spirit and faith.

People say that I have been to hell and back, and once I might have agreed. But now with a little distance, I know better. For this ourney that I so reluctantly took has opened my eyes to scenery, the beauty of which I might otherwise have missed. When I think of all the people who fought for me, those who have crossed my path only because of cancer, I now realize that, yes; God took me to the brink of something. But I now believe it was heaven I caught a glimpse of, and I will be forever grateful for the view.

Ann Sirl

# Famous Turkey Dinners

For many years, St. Mary's Parish sponsored locally famous turkey dinners that drew a crowd not only from our church, but from the entire surrounding community. The dinners were served upstairs in the old gym while an army of people pitched in to cook downstairs in the church kitchen, and at the bakery downtown where it was then carpooled back to the church.

The lines to eat were often long, but no one complained, even in the cold and rain. The school kids and adults banded together to carry the prepared food up and down the stairs from the kitchen to the gym in an unending line to feed hundreds of hungry people from all over the valley. The spirit of the church community was outstanding!

We didn't know it at the time, but our turkey dinners were what the church would now call an Outreach Program. Back then we just called it a great time and a lot of work!

Our family will always embrace the memories of our simpler days of the past and our involvement at St. Mary's. We'll never forget the weeks we spent at the old church, cleaning and re-finishing the old wooden pews. We, and sometimes a few others, cleaned, sanded, and scraped the dirt and gum and whatever else there was off the seats, and managed to get the shoe marks off the backs of the pews. After all of that work, we stained them and applied coats of clear finish. The smell of the stain and finish lingered in the church long after we had completed our job. The pews looked so much better, and everyone seemed to like the new feel. Everyone, that is, except one man who decided a few weeks later to take our old wooden church from us when he set it on fire.

At the time, we thought all of our hard work, love, and memories were gone with the fire, but we were wrong. Our family still talks about all the great times we had in the old church as if it was yesterday. The memories of our old church are still alive and will always be a part of our lives.

As longtime members of St Mary's Church, and having raised our two sons here, we have seen many changes over the years in our church and community. The good people of St. Mary's have worked together for 125 years to share what they have with one another. Together we have created many years of loving memories that we can pass on to coming generations as they make St. Mary's their church home.

Bob and Kim Dempsey 

# Take a Second Look

n 1997 I found myself feeling somewhat adrift, as if something was missing in my life. It kept nagging at me until I finally realized that it was the Holy Spirit doing the nagging. I had been a drop-in Catholic for many years and although I had a wonderful husband, a healthy family, and a job I really liked, I didn't have peace and contentment in my heart. After talking to a friend about it, I decided to take part in "Taking a Second Look," a program at St. Mary's that welcomes newcomers and fallen away Catholics to take a look at the Church or come back to it.

When I met Father John for the first time, I quickly discovered that he was a bit reserved, but friendly, candid, and humorous. Best of all, I knew right away that he was very sincere about wanting to help all of us in the group find our spiritual home again, or for the first time.

Prior to taking this program, I had dreaded visions of having to make week-long confessions if I decided to return to the Church after all the years I'd been away.

I convinced myself that I would be looked down upon like a leper because I was divorced and had remarried outside the Church. Father John reassured me that I would be welcomed back to the Church without a stigma, and that my previous decisions were between God and myself. What a comfort it was to hear him accept and applaud me for having the courage to voice my concerns in front of strangers. He updated us on how the Church had changed with Vatican II, and was very instrumental in removing all my doubts about how the Church would receive me if I returned. Father John was a wonderful spiritual director as he guided me on my renewed spiritual journey.

Almost a year after returning to the Church, our son was murdered. His three children were in dire circumstances and I realized that the Holy Spirit had nagged me to return to the Church because He knew my family was going to need all the spiritual support we could muster to carry us through the horrible, dark days ahead of us. For months I asked God what I should do about the children, and then He revealed the task He had planned for us. We immediately began our three-year fight to get custody of the grandchildren.

Once we won the battle, I knew that had been His plan all along.

The Holy Spirit led me back to my Church and prompted my husband to convert to Catholicism. Our granddaughter and one grandson have also chosen to be Catholics, bringing our family even closer together in heart and spirit. On our 35th wedding anniversary, Father John celebrated and blessed our marriage, and I'm delighted to say that my husband and I are closer today than ever before. We love our church family and have made many good friends who are very dear to us. We help whenever we can with the various ministries, and I love singing in the choir and attending a weekly Bible Study Group. Our family wishes St. Mary's a continuation of God's blessings and the best 125 years yet to come. We pray for our Church every day and will always be grateful to the Holy Spirit for helping us to find our way back home by "Taking a Second Look."

Fran Pace

# The Long Road

The road I have taken to the Catholic Church has been a long and meandering one. While I believe that I've been a Roman Catholic all of my life, I am not a so-called cradle Catholic nor was I baptized in the Church. Just the same, I am Catholic.

Born and raised in Albany, I worshipped at the local Evangelical United Brethren Church, attended area public schools and graduated from Albany Union High in the summer of 1965. For me, life seemed pretty simple. Then I joined the military. Life was no longer as simple. I was sent to places and saw things I had never experienced. I met people of different faiths and cultures. I began to have questions about my place in all this.

Part of that questioning process involved my spirituality so I began to ask questions. I inquired about various faiths. I got all sorts of answers; some good and some not. Among other things, my inquiry led me to the Knights of Columbus and their Catholic home study courses. These courses were enlightening, thought provoking and helpful. Steeped in the Holy Scriptures, they struck a cord with my evangelical up-bringing, while introducing me to a fuller understanding of our relationship with the one true God.

I started attending Episcopal services off-post and felt comfortable with the liturgical style of worship and the sense of community. The Knights had sown the seeds.

After four years active military duty, I returned to Albany. I married a long time friend and started studies at Oregon State University. My wife and I attended Good Samaritan Episcopal Church in Corvallis where we were confirmed in 1971. Things appeared to be pretty simple again. However, I still had questions concerning my faith journey, particularly issues involving Marian teachings, the Eucharist and the true presence, the Sacraments and the teachings on Purgatory.

The Episcopal Church, while communal and liturgical, is born out of the Reformation and shares much of its theology with that protestant movement. I read Catholic books and literature to find some of the explanations I needed. I was becoming a Marian Episcopalian with Roman tendencies. I had some lively discussions with the Episcopal priests in the parish.

In 1973, we moved to Salem. I remained Episcopalian through my failed marriage and other life problems. I returned to Albany alone in 1996 and found a new city, a new hope and a new faith. As I drove through town heading south on Pacific Boulevard over the overpass there it was, the steeple of St. Mary's Church, prominent and inviting.

It may have taken 49 years, but the road to the Catholic Church delivered me to the front steps of St. Mary's. I was welcomed, attended RCIA and made my Profession of Faith at Easter Vigil. The seeds that the Knights sowed back in 1967 are now fully germinated and growing, nurtured and carefully attended to. That long, meandering road had finally brought me home.

Gary Vosper

# As Far As I Can Remember

As far as I can remember, as far back as my family stories reach, we have belonged to St. Mary's Church and she belonged to us. The Eagles Clan has been bending knees and taking part in the life of St. Mary's since very near the founding. My own life is so enmeshed in Catholicism and the life of the church that the various components cannot stand alone. I had family life, social life, religious life and seasonal life growing up in Albany, and not one aspect could stand without the others.

Recently, I was recounting to a friend how I spent more hours at church than at any other pastime. Our days involved our faith as much as brushing our teeth or going to school. My sisters and I joined the faith as readily as our mother and aunts had done before us, as our cousins and friends did alongside us. My childhood memories are entwined and enriched by belonging to St. Mary's. There in the dark and creaking interior of the old church my spirituality was born.

Friday night confession brought my first connection to God, formed in my heart in the colored light of the old stained glass windows. The hushed and dusty quiet of the well-worn pews enveloped me, I could hear a muffled cough, a squeaking prayer rail. I could also hear the calm and understanding voice of God whispering to me amidst the faint whiff of incense and dripping candle wax. I felt the strength of family and connection kneeling beside my mom and sisters, knowing we shared the bond of faith. Our Confessions were humble but heartfelt, and those hearts skipped more lightly when we emerged into the night after Confession.

I know my Great Grandfather, William Eagles, was a member before the century turned. My Great Grandmother, Amy, raised all her children in the faith at St. Mary's, including my own grandfather, Harry Eagles. Sundays were special days, when we saw our family and gathered around our grandmother's table after Mass, Catholics and non-Catholics who had married in, all of us bonded again by the weekly event. We looked forward to this joyful celebration after the work and school week. It was during one of these dinners that my Aunt Mary Ellen announced her intention to become a Catholic. My mom burst into tears, and we all felt the magnitude and importance of the decision.

The holiday year clustered around the sacred rituals of our faith. We knew the happy rebirth of spring at Easter. We knew the fresh chance to restart after the dreary, rainy winter. As Christmas approached, we paid more attention to the weekly readings, knowing that the most sacred and awe-inspiring time was approaching. Each year we would make our advent wreaths at CCD and bring them home to light with my mom. We would turn off all the lights and say our prayers by candlelight. Then we would look out the window into the December sky, trying to see the Christmas star. The St. Mary's holiday bazaar approached and we all looked forward to the shopping spree. My Grandma Eagles, while not a Catholic until her later years, never missed Mass or a chance to take part in the rich and rewarding life at St. Mary's. Before the Bazaar, her dining table would be covered with her projects to sell: small beaded wreaths and jeweled butterflies to hang on the tree, cakes, peanut brittle and divinity in cellophane packages. The handmade ornaments still hang on my Christmas tree each year, cherished tokens of my grandmother and reminders of her love for St. Mary's.

As I grew older I realized not everyone attended St. Mary's. I began to form new and stronger bonds with my schoolmates who I saw at my Church. They became deeper friends who shared the time we spent at Thursday night CCD. We understood the lives of one another more clearly through our spiritual connections.

Time passes. I married at St. Mary's, although I had moved away. My grandparents passed on and were buried there. Cousins have taken their wedding vows at the church, baptizing their children in the same font that saw many of the other heads in our family. My own father finally became a Catholic, after a lifetime of hustling his wife and daughters off to Mass. The old church burned down, but did not take my memories with it. I can still close my eyes and feel the connection to all the family and friends. I can hear the priest's voice and the ringing of the altar boys' bells. I see the beautiful stained glass windows casting their colors onto the carpet. The years may have passed, people have moved on to be with God, but the Church is still a living thing. It lives on in me and my family, for the rest of our history.

Catherine Wolfe

# St. Mary's School 1

I've only been at St. Mary's School for three years next fall, but since then I've had some great experiences. On my first day of school I got a warm welcoming and met lots of new kids that were just like me. Not only did they greet me like that, they greeted everyone like that. I guess it is expected from schools but it's still nice to know that they truly care that we as new students feel like we are coming into a nice community.

Being the girl that I am, I like a lot of the things that I have experienced at this school. One of my favorite experiences that I had last year is the school's trip to OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry). Now you may be thinking, "Oh wow, OMSI, been there, done that." But really, this was probably one of the best days of the school semester!

We rode in two separate buses. The first bus was filled with kindergarteners, second, fourth and sixth graders. The second bus with filled with first, third, fifth, seventh and eighth graders. We got to sit by our best friends. It was great!

When we got there, we gathered around and got into our share group (share groups are a group of students from different grades that all go together to the school Mass that happens every Thursday). For some, they were lucky enough to be in groups with their best friends like me. From my share group's point of view we had a lot of fun.

One of my group's favorite things on the trip was the OMNIMAX Theater at OMSI that was showing an educational documentary on the creatures of the deep sea. Another favorite thing was the earthquake house.

Overall, from the great experiences to the great education, St. Mary's School is a great Catholic School and as a child it is always great that they incorporate fun into the required education!

Jessica Julian

# St. Mary's School 2

My name is Maria and I will be in third grade next year. When I came, I started in Kindergarten. I like all my teachers. (I'm sure you will too.) First grade was also great. I want to tell you about second grade. I love art! It's really, really fun! My favorite project was putting our hands in paint and putting our hands on a piece of paper.

To prepare for Reconciliation we carried a rock for a symbol of our sins. After we confessed our sins, we put the rock in a bowl to show that our sins had been forgiven. It was a happy night for me and my family!

We also prepared for First Communion. We practiced in our classroom. We read about First Communion and we acted some stories out. It felt good to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus. It was a really happy moment for me and my family. Then after Mass we went to the gathering space. My grandparents came and so did my parents. It was a happy time for my whole family.

On regular days, like Thursday, we have Mass with our prayer buddies (prayer buddies are older kids who take us to Mass). They sit with us for the whole Mass. Then they take us back to our classroom once Mass is done.

We have a new priest named Father T. He has a dog named Lady. I like Father T a lot! I like him because he's a really funny priest and he can sing very well.

I like St. Mary's school a lot. I like going to St. Mary's because you get to have a lot of fun and learn a lot about God.

Maria Julian

# St. Mary's School 3

My name is Josh Julian. I go to St. Mary's School in Albany. This year I will be going into eighth grade. Going into eighth grade in this school isn't the same as going into eighth grade at a school like NAMS (North Albany Middle School) or Memorial. Eighth grade at St. Mary's is different because of the fact that the seventh and eighth grade are combined into one class. Each year the teachers of the two grades alternate between the curriculum so that, in the two years you are in the class you get it all.

I came into this school in fifth grade. Coming into this school I was a little nervous, because I was coming from a school of about four hundred to four hundred fifty kids. Obviously, that's a big difference. Even though I was nervous, I was quickly accepted into my class and made friends almost immediately. A few of the people in my class, after fifth grade, went to either NAMS or Memorial. It was sad to see them go, but most of my friends stayed so it wasn't too bad.

After a couple of years at this school, I've had some pretty interesting experiences. One of my favorite experiences was when I was in seventh grade and the seventh/eighth grade students went on a trip up to Regis High School in Stayton. At Regis we got to eat lunch, meet some other kids and set up a career planner.

Another of my favorite experiences was also in seventh grade when the Middle School put on a Shakespearean play.

One of my favorite things about being in the Middle School is the Middle School Youth Group (MSYG). I like MSYG because we get to meet and hang out with kids from other schools (namely NAMS and Memorial). Also, during MSYG, we play games where we learn about Bible stories and we come closer to God. Sometimes we even have retreats in the church where we have a lot of prayer time, but also a lot of hanging out time.

Overall, going to St. Mary's has been a great way for me to meet great people, have lots of fun and get a great education.

Josh Julian

# What the Fire Taught Us

John and I had been visiting some friends in Portland, Patty and Tim Merrill, former parishioners of St. Mary's in Albany. We were driving back that Sunday evening, October 29, 1989 and as we turned off the freeway and entered the usual quiet streets near our home we were blasted by the piercing sounds of sirens wailing and roaring behind us. We pulled into our driveway wondering what was happening. Was it a fire? Where? What?

We barely had the key in the lock and were pushing open the door when we heard the phone ring. Our friends, the ones we had just left in Portland, were on the phone. They had heard that the Church was on fire and wanted more information about it. Was it really on fire? We were shocked. We didn't know anything about it. How amazing that Patty and Tim knew about it before we did!

The church is only four blocks from our house. No wonder we had heard the screaming sirens! We dropped everything and ran as fast as we could to St. Mary's. The flames had bitten into the night sky like an angry dragon roaring and breathing orange and yellow shards of light. As we drew nearer we heard the final snap and fierce crack of wood groaning in almost human agony and then we watched with horror as the final structure of the church collapsed with a smashing of splintered wood and ash.

The water from many different fire hoses continued to spray in long arcs into the night. The smoke rose up thick, black and ominous. There was nothing we could do but stand back and watch in shock. It was totally and completely gone.

John was a Parish Council member at the time and he remembers the long, challenging meetings as the church leaders decided how to continue being an active community of faith without a place to worship.

We were afraid that without our beloved antique building, we wouldn't survive. The building had become such a part of our faith community, such a part of who we were. So many weddings, funerals, births and baptisms had taken place in those hallowed walls. The stained glass windows, the rich, dark paneling, the beautiful statues and ornaments the church had slowly acquired over ninety-one years were now nothing more than ash and memories.

But volunteers stepped in. Joan Ratliff became the emergency office secretary. Russ Pommier, Marty Kloeck, and Carol Purdum and others looked at hundreds of wedding videos and pictures to see what the old church contained. Though no one could remember exactly how many pews we had, these volunteers carefully scanned the videos and pictures from various angles until an accurate count was made. The images provided more than just sad memories of our loss. They detailed an accurate listing of every precious and valuable antique that had been destroyed. As the volunteers began adding up page after page of destroyed items they discovered we had a more valuable treasure than we had ever imagined. The church with its antique furnishings was worth over a million dollars. The insurance company was also in shock to learn the value of the church they must replace.

I worked as an instructor at LBCC (Linn Benton Community College) and our first faith gathering space happened in the Forum, the college's largest lecture hall space. I had taught classes there and it was a strange feeling to see it now being used as an interim church. That first Mass after the fire was bittersweet. We filled the space with our prayers, songs and Father Pat Walsh's reassuring words.

Next on our places of pilgrim worship was a short walk past the gaping hole that had been St. Mary's and into the old school gym. This sufficed for a short while and then we stayed for some months in an abandoned store which we fondly named Saint Sears. Several new ministries were formed, the folding chair ministry, the put up and take down ministry and the sharing of "old church" stories ministry.

After Saint Sears we found another school gym to hold our Sunday Masses and that was at Memorial Middle School. Finally we came back to the corner of Ninth and Ellsworth, the original site of St. Mary's. The Church complex was well on its way to being built and though the Church itself was not ready we moved into the St. Mary's Family Life Center until it was.

During our months of pilgrimage not only did we transform these strange places into worship spaces but we found that we became transformed as well. Communion, homilies, hymns and familiar Catholic rituals comforted us, brought us together and taught us that Church is always more than just a building.

We learned how much we meant to each other. We found that we could still perform our ministries, still pull together to become church for each other. We even continued to have coffee and doughnuts together after Mass!

Each of our transformed church spaces sheltered us, as the old St. Mary's had. In each "church" we still looked across the aisles and saw the familiar faces of our St. Mary's family, as we always had. We learned that "church" is not an antique hundred year old building, but a community of believers who can rise from the ashes and not only survive but also thrive together.

Jane and John Donovan

# Marriage with Conditions

All the way from Connecticut (fifty miles from the Atlantic Ocean) where should I start? I guess when Paul asked me to marry him in 1938, he said, "Darling please don't marry me if you don't want to live in Oregon!" Paul had spent six months in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) in LaComb, Oregon and fell in love with the state.

We finally arrived in Albany in September 1947. A long way from our homes but we both were happy to be here! Albany was a small friendly place of about six thousand or so people. You would walk down the street and everyone smiled or said, "Hello!" What a great place to start over again.

We started to go to St. Mary's three days after arriving here. The Mass in those days was at seven in the morning. We were happy and Paul settled in working. After a few weeks every once in a while Paul would have to wake up the priest for Mass. The priest worked hard as we had no regular priest at this time. It got to be a big joke for Paul but he loved doing it. Ha. Ha.

We settled in joining the Church's different societies. Paul joined the "Catholic Knights of Columbus" and I joined the "Catholic Daughters" about the same time. Paul worked with the scouts and I worked with the young children during Mass. There were other duties such as working on our big Church dinners which became well known!

I remember the wonderful food we made for the dinners. One lady had a special dish and "she wouldn't share the recipe with anyone!" Real good.

Paul worked at a grocery store and then at Swifts in their busy season, then later he sold insurance for Prudential for one and a half years. I had stayed at home since we arrived here. Finally, Paul applied for a job at the Bureau of Miners. He started working there in the early fifties and stayed until he retired twenty seven years later.

We enjoyed many years at St. Mary's until Paul got very ill. He had to have a serious operation. It was a very close call at the time.

Paul had to have surgery right away and I went to early Mass that morning with my sister, Martha Rea. We went to Communion and went back to our pews to thank God for all His blessings and to help Paul in his time of need. I was praying when I heard a soft whisper in my ear, "Uncle Paul will be okay Aunt Mickey, don't worry." I looked at my sister and touched her and asked her what she said. She shook her head and said nothing. I told her what had happened and she just smiled and shook her head. I couldn't stop shaking; I was so deeply touched by all this!

Later that morning I went to the hospital to see Paul. I had to wait as he was having problems and they were working on him. The priest who had said Mass came to give Paul his final blessing!

The priest came over to speak with me while we waited. I told him what had happened at Mass that morning. He took my hand in his and said, "Don't let anyone tell you you didn't hear the whisper—God has many ways of answering our prayers that we don't know about!

My nephew Ronnie was the only one in the family who had died, and he loved Uncle Paul dearly so I know it was Ronnie who gave me God's answer! What a blessing.

Paul started to get better shortly after this and when he was home I told him what had happened. He just smiled, but said nothing. I guess God gave us another blessing to hold dear to our hearts!

We met some wonderful people at St. Mary's and are still friends with them today. We worked and enjoyed our duties at St. Mary's.

We enjoyed many happy years at St. Mary's until God called Paul home in 2000. I miss Paul every day but I know we'll see each other after some time again.

I'm ninety two years of age. What a blessing!

There was another pleasant event at St. Mary's. I wasn't involved with this one but I heard about it and I was sorry I wasn't there! The then 'Senator Kennedy' was on a tour and stopped at St. Mary's. Somehow he gave the secret service men the slip after the dinner and came into the kitchen to visit those still working. He sat on a table and said what a wonderful dinner they had prepared. I seem to remember afterwards they put up a placard telling of his visit. Doesn't anyone remember this? I wish I had been there at the time as he was a wonderful person. That's one of the events I missed while attending St. Mary's.

There are many happy memories at St. Mary's. I wish I could remember them all! I'm sure there are some people who were there at the time who could tell ua all about his visit.

This story is getting longer than I intended.

I'm enjoying good health for my age. I'm losing some of my hearing but otherwise my blessings keep coming from the Good Lord!

Friends from St. Mary's help me as well as family. With help from nieces and nephews and a dear lady friend since 1952 (over fifty five years) I'm able to stay in my own home. A lovely lady brings me Communion every week. I keep up with what goes on at Church.

I miss the old St. Mary's because of the terrible fire! We had Mass at many places around Albany. Schools and other churches opened their doors and hearts to us. We spent weeks in the basement of Sears! Some of us called it, "St. Sears."

I still belong to the Catholic Daughters, the rosary we say together every few months and the Prayer Shawl Ministry! I love to knit. I don't know how many shawls I've made over the years. I made my share of full size afghans and lap robes for the people who enjoy and need them!

I'm very fortunate to be able to get around and go out to dinner often with the help of a cane and a good friend! I'm able to get out to have my hair done and do shopping! I get to the Casino's two or three times a year. If I win I share with the Good Lord for all His many blessings.

I wake each morning with a prayer of 'Thanksgiving' for a safe night and look forward to another beautiful day.

I've lost many friends and family over the past year, but with God's blessing I'm doing okay.

I thank God for all His blessings and good friends at St. Mary's.

Thank you all again,

God bless,

Mickey Francoeur

P.S. We'll all miss Father Betts. I knew his mother, she was so full of fun. I haven't met Father Thomas yet. I hope to soon. Perhaps to share a cup of coffee in my home.

Mildred (Mickey) Francoeur

# Sister Regina Rausch

Before I retired, I taught for twenty-two wonderful years in St. Mary's School. Warm and loving memories of the church and school staffs, the students and their parents, and all of the St. Mary's parishioners linger in my mind. The friendly, family spirit in our parish made my time there so memorable.

While I was at St. Mary's, Ellen Ketsdever was the Director of Religious Education and the two of us worked beautifully together in the First Eucharist Program. Each September we held neighborhood meetings for all Catholic parents who had second graders planning to prepare for their first Communion. This was an excellent opportunity for families to meet other Catholics in their neighborhood. The parents were always very helpful in assisting the religion teachers, and in preparing their children at home.

As part of our First Communion Program, we planned several activities for the children that were outside of the classroom. For example, throughout the year we took part in various liturgical celebrations at Sunday Mass. We also had each child choose a high school prayer partner to walk with them as they prepared to receive their First Communion. In February, we had a Saturday planned where the children from the Religious Education classes and the St. Mary's students worked on activities side by side with their parents and prayer partners.

Ellen was always busy reading and planning for special meetings and events, and even arranged for the two of us to receive further training at a workshop presented by Christiann Brusselman, the author of, "We Celebrate the Eucharist." I never had a more enjoyable experience preparing children for their First Communion than I did when I worked with Ellen at St. Mary's.

Not surprisingly, Ellen was recognized for her outstanding work in our First Eucharist Program when she was invited to attend the National Association of Parish Catechetical Directors (NPCD) Convocation in Baltimore, Maryland. Our school principal, Mrs. Sharon Tebb, Mrs. Kathy Reilly from our parish staff, and I went with her to the convocation. We watched proudly as she was presented with the Mustard Seed Award, and was honored for having 100% parent participation in the First Eucharist Program.

She certainly deserved that special honor.

It was difficult for me to retire from teaching at St. Mary's because of the many friends I made during my years there. I continue to stay in touch with many students and parents, and remember the parishioners and school family in my prayers. May the people of St. Mary's continue to grow and spread the Good News for another 100 years!

Sister Regina Rausch

# Is God Real?

I attended St. Mary's for six years. When I was in the second grade we were preparing for our First Communion. I was very scared and unsure of my faith. I asked Sr. Regina, (who turned out to be my favorite teacher) how I was supposed to know if God was real?

She simply smiled at me and told me, "It is better to believe and there will be nothing, than to not believe and there be something."

"God loves you, Amanda," she said.

I smile every time I think about her, and if anyone ever asks me if God is real, I tell them what she told me.

Amanda Marie Gilmour

# Sister Marietta Schindler

My first impression of Father Dougherty was that of a walrus. He had come to check out myself and some of the other Sisters when we arrived at the school. He pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked us up and down. Apparently, we passed inspection, because we all were allowed to stay!

I have many, many other memories of my time at St. Mary's. The old St. Mary's School was several stories high with fire escapes on both sides of the building. The sisters lived on the top floor.

I remember clearly that the neighbor kids would climb up looking for mischief. Were they surprised to find us sisters sitting at the top! One night Sister Joseph & I decided that the kids shouldn't have all the fun, so we got out our blanket. Down we went, crying out, "whee" all the way!

I came to know Father Dougherty better and to appreciate his support for the Benedictine Sisters and the school. Eventually the old school building was no longer suitable to use, so the parish built a new school. Father Dougherty helped the sisters find a house on 11th Street. They waited to condemn the school until after we could move out.

The Knights of Columbus and many, many parishioners helped us to convert the house on 11th into a convent. I made a call to Bob Hermans asking for help, "Bob, if you can get the Knights, I'll buy the beer." Several Knights turned out to help!

While the sisters were teaching in the school, some of the women of the parish would come into the house to paint and help get it ready to live in. Finally the house was ready. We chose the hottest day of the year to move in!

The men had to carry everything down from the upper floor of the old school. When they brought the piano down, the stairs almost collapsed. I think that we got out just in time!

I have so many fond memories of all the parent involvement and their support of the sisters and school. I treasure all those families.

The Knights of Columbus hosted many a sing-along in the old gym. Father Stead would faithfully come in at 11:30 PM and sing "Good Night Ladies"!

Sister Marietta Schindler

# Sister Joseph Fennimore

One year I was in charge of the May Crowning. I needed a box to set the statue of Mary on. After searching I found a suitable box, and covered it so that it would look more like an altar.

The May Crowning went off without a hitch and we all went back to our busy lives.

That weekend at Mass, Father Dougherty was very upset. We were supposed to have a special collection and no one could find the box of envelopes!

Rumor has it that late that night two sisters dismantled the May crowning altar and quickly and quietly burned a box with undisclosed contents! Nothing more was said and no one ever did find those missing envelopes!

Sister Joseph Fennimore

# We Lost One

rted to creep closer and closer to the edge of the raised platform. One day an enthusiastic acolyte sat down after communion with a bit of extra energy and tipped over backwards. Legs thrashed wildly, hampered by her long white robe. Finally the victim was helped to her feet by the other acolyte. Father Pat with his usual twinkle and nonchalance, turned to the congregation and casually stated, "Looks like we lost one."

Ann Huster

# Different Viewpoints

When we moved to Albany in 1963 we made the decision to have our four kids attend St. Mary's School. We have always been immeasurably pleased with that decision.

It is interesting how parents view particular events in their kids' lives somewhat differently from the kids. We knew they were receiving the knowledge and opportunity for academic success and more importantly the spiritual guidance for them to become productive, caring, loving adults and parents and assets to their respective communities, which they are. That is how I remember it.

Here is how they remember those years.

Mary Eusterman

# St. Mary's School 4

First grade with Sister Marietta was the absolute best foundation a kid could get but boy was she tough. One day she took a big piece of tape and fastened the nice young lady in front of me to her desk seat by her skirt for one or more infractions. I did not budge as I thought I might be next. Unfortunately this young lady had to go to the bathroom and well you can imagine what happened next. Needless to say this left a scar on me, but provided endless humor to this day. All names will be withheld to protect the marginally innocent, Wendy.

I met my best friend for many, many years in first grade, Hans Egerman. Unfortunately Hans Egerman left us way too early, but his memory and love is with us still. God bless you Hans. I'll never forget you.

I remember the cafeteria food and getting cold milk in small box cartons for lunch in the big room down below the gym. One question, "Did the Catholics buy up all the WW II surplus Borax soap and grade D paper towels so we'd have no skin left on our little hands after washing or were they left over supplies from the Inquisition?" Still a mystery to me.

Second grade with Ms. Baldwin. Did every boy in her class love her or was it the girls too? My guess it was both. Ms. Baldwin was great. She could read like nobody I'd ever heard before and maybe never heard since. I can still picture a particularly suspenseful part of a book that she read to us. It was fantastic and scary. If you closed your eyes when she read, you could imagine the entire scene. Hollywood had nothing on Ms. Baldwin! She turned us on to arts, music and my love of reading that has never diminished. More on Ms.Baldwin later.

Third grade got us out of the basement and over to the big school. It was the old building with all the scary, condemned floors above the second floor and worse, all the big kids. The good news was we were now part of the real school. The bad news was we were still in the basement. But it was there that I joined my first band with a couple of my buddies as we tried hard to impress the girls that we could sing all the The Monkee's songs we knew— which I think was one. Corporal punishment started to follow me in the third grade and I don't think I shook it until well, hmmm. One day Sister Andrews felt that I was talking too much in class and warned me that the large, green, empty quart bottle of 7-Up with the ominous ring of duct tape shoved over the neck on the top shelf was coming down if I did not control myself. Wow! What third grade smart aleck kid could possibly resist that challenge? The only bad part was after what seemed like all afternoon that duct tape really hurt when she ripped it off my face. Yes, ear to ear. And when I told my Mom what happened that day at school, she apparently felt the need to side with Sister Andrews without hesitation. What was it about tape and St. Mary's?

Fourth grade was not my best year as memory serves, but at least we were at the top of the stairs and out of the basement. We had a couple teachers that apparently had not seen the likes of such wonderfully behaved young scholars. I think what happened was the pent up energy and total lack of fear we had for anyone not wearing a habit (except for the priests and gym teacher) came to the surface. And the teachers we had did not quite realize what some well meaning soul signed them up for in taking our class that year. Apparently my co-conspirators and I were unaware that hiding up on the upper floors of the old school (condemned and about to be torn down) and accessing the forbidden fire escape slides when we were supposed to be out at recess was not part of our PE curriculum. But it was scary and very fun! When we were finally cornered by the authorities, it did not help that our teacher broke down and cried when she tried to reprimand us. See what I mean, no habit - no fear. Not the kind of positive reinforcement I needed at that moment.

Fifth Grade - Ms. Baldwin (my former second grade teacher) was now Mrs. Chai and thank God she was back! We thought we'd died and gone to heaven. My classmates will remember singing along with Jesus Christ Superstar on the record player in the afternoons. Does it get any better than that?

We had a great musical program that year. I got to sing with Hans, Danny Moore and Jeff Klein (sixth graders) in a barbershop quartet. We did 'Sweet Adeline' and 'Bicycle Built for Two,' in four part harmony. I know the parts to this day. We did a song from 'Paint Your Wagon' and I remember it was a complete highlight of the year. Except that Hans (who was way bigger than any of the sixth grade boys) and I figured out a really great way to get our stolen lunch money back from those big shot sixth graders. We found some old boxing gloves in the gym and I as the promoter/manager taunted the sixth graders into a boxing match with Hans for a small purse that they had to put up to lace up. The deal was if they could stay in the ring (scratched out on the pea gravel playground) with Hans for three rounds, they won the purse. Needless to say, Crusher Egerman was undefeated. It was so great to see the smirk come off the faces of those guys with the first punch. I don't think anyone went the full three rounds. Maybe that was the highlight that year? Oh yeah, uh, I learned some early 'business and marketing' skills in fifth grade. (I had to say that part for my Mom) because she told me this had to be a positive story about all the great things I learned at St. Mary's. Hope that works Mom.

Sixth Grade - Had Sister Laura and quite frankly the party was over by then. We were in the brand new school building and for some reason all of a sudden we were expected to actually work at our school work. Sister Laura gave us a good dose of discipline that we certainly needed and really prepared us for the final push toward junior high. But what you may not know about Sister Laura is she was an expert on kick-ball and took us across the street to play on one of the Central School fields at recess. Wow – grass fields at recess? That was simply fantastic. We would all slide into the bases even when there was no need, mostly because it was not pea gravel and also to see if we could stain those old salt and pepper cords. And oh yes, the grass stains were bright green and you could smell the grass the rest of the day in the classroom. It was great.

There are a million stories that I did not or could not tell.

Timothy Joseph Eusterman

# St. Mary's School 5

St. Mary's Memories: Laura Eusterman Peterson

My fond and funny memories of St. Mary's are:

Sister Laura and Sister Marietta - really cool; very smart

Putting on a big student led, musical fundraiser for the new building (when I was in third grade) and singing in a bunch of presentations in full costume.

The plaid, scratchy uniforms and beanie hat - NOT!

Ditching that same uni each day for recess because I always wore shorts underneath except for that one recess when I forgot and the whole class saw my underwear

Meeting for Girl Scout Brownies every week in the upper room on the east end of the gym.

Trading stuff from my school lunch and occasionally walking "off campus" to Hasty Freeze for burgers and fries with Leslie and Laurie Kropp

Making Mrs. Walk cry because we "girls" held a sit down strike to protest being told we could not play tetherball with the boys anymore—because it was too physically dangerous for us. We won that one.

Trying not to laugh when my brothers were making faces at the "other" altar boy during Mass.

Being scared of the tallest, rickety floor of the old building because we heard it was haunted by mean old nuns that tortured kids.

Visiting Mt. Angel for Oktoberfest and knowing our St. Mary's nuns were part of that family.

Hanging out at recess in the playground equipment room with a small "club" of very good friends and my best friend, Therese Transue.

Having sleepovers at the home near school where our St. Mary's nuns lived and NEVER sleeping because we were laughing too hard.

Being basically shocked to see "our nuns" wearing street clothes - so weird at first.

Singing with the evening folk Mass praise team.

Knowing I got a solid education at St. Mary's and being ever grateful for that.

Laura (Peterson) Eusterman 

# St. Mary's School 6

As a fourth grade teacher beginning my 23rd year with Denver Public Schools, I often share memories with my students about elementary school. Here are some of my favorites:

I can remember all my teachers (so I know they were good)

Sister Marietta

Ms. Masog - who married and became Mrs. Moore

Ms. Rocha

Sister Laura and Mrs. Walk

Sister Pat

Ms. VanVeen

being an angel and one of the three wise men in the Christmas pageant

being part of the "glow worm"

playing on the fire escape during recess when we weren't supposed to

attending Mrs. Moore's wedding (the whole class was invited)

moving from the old building to the new (carrying a lot of books)

having first grade "reading buddies" when we were in sixth grade

hot lunch on Thursday - great spaghetti!

punching milk tickets and selling ice cream

First Friday Mass

being old enough to participate in the Stations of The Cross

making great friends, some of which I still have today

Martha Eusterman (Biery)

# St. Mary's School 7

Sister Marietta was by far my favorite teacher and she was also the principal I think in 6th grade

Going to see Apollo 17 on TV in 1972 at the nun's house

Mt. Angel retreats and then field trips to Silver Creek Falls

Helping Mr. Johnson, the janitor, and getting "good deeds" credits which was a free ice cream

Of course Hasty Freeze excursions every now and then (hamburger, French fries and milk shake was $1.50, $5 paid for Laura, Martha and me)

Holding in laughter while on the altar at 10 a.m. mass with Chip O'Hearn (Chip was asked to leave when he couldn't contain it), I somehow dug deep and maintained composure

Serving at least five funerals and the smell of the incense almost making me throw up

Playing basketball at places like Crabtree and Grand Prairie and the floors being so slippery it was like ice skating

Climbing to the top of the fire escape slide at the old school and Sister Laura catching us and making Chip and I clean erasers at recess (which was actually pretty fun because we used the vacuum eraser cleaner)

Riding our bikes (yes, you guessed it, Chip and I) to school one snowy morning and having so much fun sliding around that we were an hour late and in BIG trouble!

Sneaking up on top of the gym roof during recess and trying to spit on anyone who was lucky enough to be within striking distance

All the wonderful catholic holidays that the public school neighborhood buddies didn't get to enjoy

Four square and tetherball at recess

Cub Scout uniforms made us feel pretty cool

When finally entering the public school system at Memorial Junior High, it was SO easy (it seemed like everything was a review . . . at least in seventh grade) which is a direct reflection on the quality of the education at St. Mary's.

Matt Eusterman

# Always Be Loved

Allie is the girlfriend of my son Alex. On May 12th, six months into her pregnancy she went to the doctor for her follow up. Until this point the pregnancy had been entirely normal. The doctor could not hear a heart beat so an ultra sound was recorded. There was no sign of life. Little Audrina had passed into the arms of God.

These are the faith moments that come when we least expect them, the life changing, heart breaking moments that cause us to turn to the arms of God or go running alone into the darkness of our sorrow.

Fortunately for Allie and my son Alex they allowed God to embrace them, hold them and gently draw them to a safe place of mind and spirit. Allie had not gone to the appointment alone; she was accompanied by Alex and her parents. The shock, as crushing and unbelievable as it was, was absorbed by all and this somehow made it sustainable.

The doctor said Audrina would be born naturally. She was. At least in the sense that no operation was needed, though a child coming into the world and already in the hands of God does not seem as natural as it is supposed to be.

There was something so very, very sad about this birth. This silent entry of a little girl into the world. Audrina was born without breath or movement, without a cry or whimper. She was perfectly formed, with delicate fingers soft and small, her skin like the petals of a newly bloomed rose.

Audrina was born already in the embrace of God but for four hours her family was there to be with her, to love her, to hold her, to kiss her tiny face. To say "Hello," "We love you," then sadly, with many tears, to whisper, "Good-bye."

The next day was Audrina's blessing day. Instead of at St. Mary's Church where our babies in the Catholic Church are welcomed during a Sunday Mass, this prayer service was a few blocks away at the Fisher Funeral Home. Allie's uncle, Jeff Prunk, works at the Funeral Home and he took care of every detail of the funeral with even greater love and compassion than usual.

Family, friends and classmates of Allie and Alex gathered together for support and prayer. During this period of St. Mary's history there was no priest available to perform the usual ceremony as Father Betts was ill, but Kathy Reilly, the Pastoral Associate offered the holy prayers with much love and gentleness. Everyone was grateful for her presence and quiet assurance that Audrina was securely and most lovingly in the arms of God.

Afterwards everyone joined in the rosary with tears, sad sighs, and heart-filled whispered prayer. It is hard to explain the beauty of those moments. The presence of such love and care that filled the room was the best of both human love and divine.

It is said that each of us is born with a mission to fill, a gift of love to be given to the world. My life has been touched and changed by Audrina in a way that is hard to explain. My faith has deepened, my love has been strengthened and my confidence in the goodness of God continues to grow day by day.

Audrina was part of our lives for six months in the womb, she will remain with us forever in our hearts. We had dreams and hopes and plans for her to be part of our family for many years but sadly that was not to be. But she did not come into the world alone or unwanted. She will always be loved and always be missed.

Rosa Guzman

# The Steeple in the Window

Scio is a small beautiful community about 31 miles from Albany, Oregon. I had lived there for forty years and loved everything about it. I never wanted to move but as I got older I knew that I needed to be closer to a larger community where I would have access to medical services, shopping and other services without having to drive a long distance.

So that was in the back of my mind as something that I would have to do someday but I hadn't made any move to commit to it.

I have a daughter that lives in Albany and it had become a sort of tradition in these later years that I would join her for Easter Sunday Mass and then Easter dinner. My daughter and niece from Portland and a cousin would often come as well.

On this particular Easter Sunday we were all dressed up and ready to go to Mass but when we got to the church there was no place to park. We finally found a place two blocks away from the church in front of a small bungalow house with a 'For Sale,' on the lawn. I made the comment that I had always wanted to live in a bungalow but thought nothing more about it as we walked down the street to Mass.

After Mass, we walked back to the car and I took another look at the house as we got in for the ride to my daughter's house. I was very attracted to it and just for interest's sake decided to take the brochure from the dispenser to look at later. I certainly had no thought about calling on Easter Sunday!

But after a delicious dinner the conversation again turned to the little bungalow with the 'For Sale' sign on the lawn. My daughters both encouraged me to make a phone call and just inquire. My cousin who had bought and sold different homes encouraged me to make the call. So I did.

The lady answered the phone and surprisingly she had attended the 8:30 Mass! She said that we could come anytime to look at the house because they were not going to have Easter dinner until later.

So back we got into our cars and went to look at the house. My panel of home buying experts (daughters and cousin) toured with me through the whole house and I fell in love with it. It seemed perfect. But it also seemed to me that I shouldn't be thinking about buying a house on Easter!

Back we went to my daughter's house and the conversation for the rest of the day focused around this Easter house. The more I thought about the house the more it seemed that finding the house was perhaps the exact kind of Easter thing that God wanted to do for me. After all, Easter is a time for new beginnings and this certainly would be.

My daughters were both encouraging me, "Mom, if you like the house you should buy it," and "Mom if you want it, you need to buy it." My cousin offered his share of positive reinforcement as well. Finally, I said, "Well, I don't know what to pay for it, what to offer?" And my daughter said, "Mom, you just pay what they are asking. If you really want the house just pay it."

So I did! We went back that evening and I made an offer for the house. I made the offer even though my own house had not sold and it seemed like a very risky thing to do, I signed my name on that piece of paper and put in my bid.

I was the second offer the sellers had received. They had put the house on the market on Wednesday – and I was the second offer and because I paid the full price – I got the house.

Now you have to know, that this is something I just never do. If my children had bought a house without selling their own house first I would have just had a fit, but that is exactly what I did. I bought the house 'For Sale by Owner.' Within a months time I had my house sold for a cash deal 'For Sale by Owner' with more money than I had anticipated the house would sell. From that point on, I knew it was my guardian angel that had brought me to the very street and that little bungalow.

I have a new neighbor who is going to be a member at St. Mary's – though she is just settling in . . . and she tells me that when she looks out her bedroom window across the street, that the steeple is looking over my rooftop.

And I tell my girlfriends back in Scio, (who have not seen my house) that in the evening when its time for bed, I look out the kitchen window and there is the steeple from St. Mary's reflected in the night light. And I pray my prayers right there in the kitchen looking out at the steeple, my evening prayers in my Easter bungalow.

Bev Dougherty

# The Eighth Sacrament

I always loved Father Pat's homilies, but the one that stands out in my memory is the one he called, "The Eighth Sacrament" Porch Sitting.

Father Pat talked about how Jesus enters our lives through our experiences with one another and how these experiences are often shared on our porches; our joys, sorrows, celebrations of special events.

His homily took me back to childhood memories of growing up in southern neighborhoods when on summer evenings people would come out on their front porches and visit. Children played on quiet streets chasing lightening bugs and played hide and go seek. Women would drink their ice tea, men their beer. Someone would play the guitar or harmonica. It was magic!

I became so excited about the "Eighth Sacrament" homily that on the following Monday I went to the bank and borrowed two thousand dollars to build myself a deck. I decided at the last minute to build with cedar which left me without enough funds to hire a contractor. My project became a family/community event. One of my brothers and two nephews came to help me square and level the frame. My kids and friends helped with the deck floor. My St. Mary's group of friends helped me to build the bench.

The deck was finished in May of 1994. I threw a big party and had Father Pat come and bless my deck in honor of his "Eighth Sacrament – Porch sitting homily."

My deck has brought Jesus to many shared experiences with others as well as quiet reflective moments during early morning coffee and evening wine.

Thank you, Father Pat!

Marge Warner

# It is Time

I was at the ripe old age of 50 in the fall of 2005 and had yet to be confirmed. The previous year I had thought about receiving the sacrament, but decided I was just too busy and not ready to make that kind of commitment. So, there I sat in the usual 8:30 a.m. Sunday Mass, when lo and behold, an invitation to join adult confirmation classes was announced. I considered signing up but decided to put it off another year. Besides, I reasoned, I did not have a pen to write my name and phone number on the little card. Then out of the blue I heard someone say, "Ask the lady next to you for a pen. She has several in her purse."

I looked around to see who had said that to me. No one acknowledged the comment. I shrugged my shoulder. "Ask now! It is time." Startled into action, I asked the lady for a pen.

Well, she had about a dozen of them for me! I picked one, filled out the card, and put it in the collection box. It wasn't long before I started attending the adult confirmation classes with a wonderful group of people. I gained so much spiritual insight from those meetings.

On April 4, 2006, I was confirmed during the Easter Vigil Mass. I had finally made the commitment to be one of "Christ's soldiers." I didn't even set Father Bett's robe on fire with my candle! Well, that's another story.

My ongoing, ever growing commitment to Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church has brought me through a number of difficult as well as wonderful situations since 2006. I have had the blessing of meeting and working with so many faith filled people; I cannot express enough how thankful I am to be a member of the St. Mary's family. Faith, hope, and love - and the greatest of these is love. Thank you Lord.

Sondra Peccia

# A Home Parish

When I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I decided I should settle on a "home parish" so I could raise my children in a Catholic community that they would know and could call their own. I wanted to join a parish that would help me teach and live out God's Word. After visiting many local area parishes, I decided to join St. Mary's in Albany because there was such a wealth of service ministries and most importantly, a Catholic school.

As my family grew, I often wondered what the point was in trying to go to Sunday Mass with young children. We often sat in the gathering space or the cry room so we wouldn't interrupt the rest of the congregation, and most Sundays I couldn't tell you what two of three of the readings or Gospel were about. Occasionally we would sit in the regular section of church and the boys knew that if they were good during Mass we would stay for donuts. I vividly remember one Sunday when Andrew was about four years old and Seth was a toddler. After receiving Communion, we returned to our pew and started singing the Communion song. Andrew tapped me on the shoulder as the song was ending and said to me, "When we stand up, and God speaks one more time, and we sing one more song, is it going to be time for donuts?"

I laughed to myself as I realized he thought Father Betts was God. After Mass ended, we made our way through to the donut line and I caught Father Betts to let him know that one little boy in his congregation had put him on quite a pedestal.

That particular instance made me realize that there actually was a point to going to Mass with two small children in tow. I also realized that I needed the support of my family and the whole parish to raise these two children that God had blessed me with in the Catholic faith. It validated my belief that a Catholic education would reinforce to my sons on a daily basis how Jesus wanted us to live and act in His name.

Kristin Kelley

# Here Comes God

I used to take my three year old grandson Joel to Mass in the old Church before the fire. He loved to sit up in the balcony and look between the railings to see the priest and the procession come into view. I always told him we were in God's house and one Sunday I found out that he had taken to heart this amazing news.

Scrunched down in his favorite position to peer between the rails, his eyes grew wide in amazement when the priest came into view below. With great excitement, Joel shouted out in the loud piercing voice that only a three year old can get away with in Church, "Yes! Here comes God! And He has got his green dress on today!"

Jill Porter-Eskeli

# The Bells of St. Mary's

It was shocking. I would get to the most profound words of the Eucharistic Prayer and this cacophony of bells suddenly clashed with my attempt to create a moment of awe. It was 1982, after all. It was nearly twenty years since the reforms of Vatican II. I'd been a priest for ten years and had never had bells interrupt my prayer in this way.

Having been pastor at St. Mary's for a full three months – plenty of time to have the right to impose a slight change in the ceremony, I decided action was needed. So when Lent started, the bells disappeared. It seemed appropriate, even old fashioned. When Easter arrived, the bells couldn't be found. A few people asked, but nobody seemed to care very much.

Then one morning at daily Mass in the midst of the words of consecration a tiny, tinkling sound came from near the back of the church. "Was that a bell?" I thought. But immediately dismissed the thought. No one who attends weekday Mass would do such a thing. Must be a bell in a kid's lunch box or backpack making the sound.

After Mass, two attendees came to the office and urgently assured me that while they had signed the petition to the Archbishop to have me removed, they had nothing to do with that bell during Mass. "A petition?" I repeated silently, "To have me removed?" Apparently the bells did matter.

That week I heard from half dozen parishioners, I didn't even know, saying they supported me and were appalled at the petition being circulated. This was a "big deal."

In disbelief I called my mentor and friend, a senior pastor. His wisdom seemed right on. "You see Pat," he advised, "When people don't know what is important, everything is important." These poor folks needed me to teach them what really mattered in the celebration of Mass. They needed me to up-date their worship and correct their arrogance. I stuck by my decision. Several people left the parish in protest, but I had won.

It took me a couple more years of sharing faith with the wise and holy people of St. Mary's to understand what my mentor really meant.

I am still indebted to that unknown person who went so far as to ring the bells in contempt of the pastor's self-serving decision. There was plenty of arrogance on both sides, I finally realized, and the Mass is about making peace, not winning battles.

To this day, when I am convinced that a decision is correct and ever so important for the church, I remember "The Bells of St. Mary's," and try to "get a grip" on what really matters.

Father Pat Walsh (St. Mary's pastor 1982 – 1994)

#  A Piece of Cake

I was told that accepting the job as the head of Pastoral Council would be a "piece of cake." That was three weeks before the beautiful wooden structure of St. Mary's was burned to the ground. I remember getting the phone call from my husband, Gale, as he was on his way to work on Monday, October 30, 1989. He told me that St. Mary's was gone. I asked him what he meant and he repeated that it was gone.

I was totally dumbfounded. It was 7:00 a.m. so I frantically got two kids ready for school, my four-year-old dressed, and headed for the site. As I drove up, I saw a crowd of people, cars, and smoldering ash. It was overwhelming. Things had to happen quickly on my end because the parish needed support right away.

One of the first meetings we had was with Father Pat, Kathy Reilly, my daughter Melissa, a representative of Lloyds of London insurance company, and myself. It was surreal.

From that point on, heading the Pastoral Council was no longer a "piece of cake." The people in our parish were angry and sad. Some were having a hard time getting past the pain. But, the strength of our parish soon surfaced and we began to move on. In an ultimate sacrifice of everybody's time, money and expertise, we made it down the very long and challenging road that eventually led to the beautiful church we have today.

Before the fire, the "old" church had reached its seating capacity and research had begun on the possibility of building a new and larger sanctuary next to the old gym. Discussions had gone back and forth as the parishioners tried to sort out what was best for the parish.

We talked and squabbled about what the parish could afford financially, and what would be best for us in the future. The fire forced us into moving ahead in creating a workable structure for our parish, and rifts among parishioners were quickly healed.

From the first meeting in 1989 to the celebration of the first Mass in our new church in Summer 1992, God took care of us. He sent people to help guide me to be a leader at a time when that was the last thing I wanted to do. Having to speak in front of the parish during this time was way out of my comfort zone. One Sunday I confided in Harry Stalford, telling him that I felt I was not the right person to be heading the Pastoral Council. He assured me that I was exactly what the parish needed because the people trusted me to be honest and direct with them. That was a huge confidence builder for me. From then on, I knew that although I might not always do or say the right thing, people knew that my heart was in the right place.

When you walk into St. Mary's now, there is a story in every direction you look. The new structure could not have been more in tune with what the parishioners requested, and through the process of rebuilding, we all learned the ultimate lesson that the people in the pews are truly the "Church."

Sue Mills

# Scripture for the Early Risers

Seven in the morning is too early for Bible study. Especially in the winter!

But somehow I keep going, even during those cold, dark winter mornings when with frosted breath I find myself with Bible in hand getting into my car and heading down the road. I've always made it, sliding into the meetings even if the bridge was iced up, the signal lights were not working and that one unforgettable morning when an owl flew out of the trees at the golf course and cracked my windshield. It cracked so bad I had to hang out of the car window to see where I was going!

The meetings began twenty years ago when Kathy Reilly started the Bible study at Boccherini's Coffee and Tea house as a meeting place after the Church burned. My daughter started attending first and then invited me to this group of mostly working women (hence the ungodly hour). Now our children have grown and most of us have entered into retirement but there we are at seven in the morning sitting around the table with hot cups of coffee or tea and our Bibles.

Usually there are four to eight of us, mostly women (only occasionally a man) happily chatting away as we study and discuss the coming Sunday's readings using a subscription guide and lector's manual of "Exploring the Sunday Readings" and earlier homilies of Fr. Pat Walsh. We ponder "What does this mean? How does it apply to me and my life?"

Members have come and gone: one following a dream of more scholarly insight into scripture culminating in a professorship at Mt. Angel Seminary; two dear women have moved; one to Denver and one returning to the East coast of her childhood. We delight in our newest member—why didn't we encourage her to come sooner?

This 'way too early in the morning' Bible study has provided me with insight, laughter, and tears as I have shared with others, entered into their lives and joined with them in prayer for special intentions, hopes and dreams.

God's love surrounded me through these women of faith when my husband died suddenly. With warmth and compassion they urged me to join their larger informal group of St. Mary's couples and singles. That group meets every other month to celebrate birthdays with cards and donations to the honorees' favorite charities. This widening circle of faith and friendship is the church community at its best!

Barbara Kraemer 

# St Vincent de Paul

In the summer of 2009, a note appeared in the St. Mary's bulletin. Would anyone be interested in being part of a St. Mary's Conference of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul?

Though lightly attended, the first few meetings assured us present that a St. Mary's Conference would come into fruition.

Seasoned St. Vincent de Paul volunteers drove up from the Eugene/Springfield area to help the St. Mary's Conference get started. What they spoke of seemed daunting; ongoing home visits to those in need of support, consolation, and assistance. A few wary glances were exchanged. It seemed like a tall order to fill. Both silently and aloud, the questions developed. Would these people want us in their homes? How would we coordinate our schedules? And most disconcerting, what if I'm not good at it?

Every potential volunteer was encouraged by the experienced group that had come up from Lane County, who had once known those same fears. "You can do it!" and "It is going to be a great experience!" they promised us. They spoke of Frederic Ozanam, the founder of St. Vincent de Paul, and how this young, privileged man's Catholic faith led him to serve the poor in the slums of Paris beginning in 1833, and how the tradition of serving the poor and helping neighbors as "Vincentians" continues today.

Quickly, the topic moved forward to electing officers for the new Conference. Who would be president? Who would be treasurer? There were barely enough volunteers to cover the positions. Many a time we wondered how this would ever be a sustainable effort.

Somehow, it all came together. Only a year after those first meetings, the St. Mary's Conference of St. Vincent de Paul made nearly 200 home visits. With help from a St. Vincent de Paul second-hand retail store established in the fall of 2009, Vincentians have been providing clothes, furniture, bedding, and consolation and encouragement for those who are struggling. Additionally, with the support of donations from St. Mary's parishioners, over 120 backpacks filled with school supplies were distributed to needy children throughout Albany on September 1, 2010.

Vincentians at St. Mary's know that helping our brothers and sisters in their times of need is an encounter with our Lord Jesus Christ, and we acknowledge that the poverty and suffering in our own community must be addressed. A Vincentian goal is to work to "seek and find the forgotten." Because of this, Vincentians work in partnership with all who seek to relieve need, and address its causes.

The St. Mary's Conference of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul looks forward to many more years of carrying on their mission of charity, and welcomes you to join them!

Jolene Mae Thomson

# A Man of Faith

My father taught me how to live and how to die. He was a cradle Catholic who attended parochial schools in the 40's and early 50's. At sixteen, Dad's world was shattered when his parents went through a bitter divorce. Later, he married and had five children, one of whom died as a newborn. My mom was the love of his life. They moved to Albany and became parishioners in 1983.

My father's character was steady . . . loyal, responsible, and hardworking. He was not a man to take shortcuts. He brought his Christianity to the family business and later to the board of directors at a community bank.

Dad shaped my faith as a child, modeling 'God the Father's' unconditional love. Each Sunday we celebrated with our faith community. A lifetime of practicing his faith yielded wisdom. He often said, "Live each day in such a way that you can look yourself in the eye in a mirror the next morning." I would come to him for advice when my own parenting got tough.

In June of 2007 my robust father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer which had already metastasized.

My mom and aunt are nurses. With their help and guidance we took shifts to care for him. One granddaughter cooked his favorite dishes. Two granddaughters wanted him to be able to listen to his favorite hymns from Mass as he lay in bed, so they asked three musicians from St. Mary's to help them make a CD. They sang and recorded the Ave Maria, Panis Angelicus and many others. It seemed to bring him much joy and comfort.

A steady train of family and friends, both new and old, visited. People called, wrote, and e-mailed, telling him how he had touched their lives. My father worked on packing his 'faith bags' for the journey. As the pain from the bone cancer intensified, he was not sure he could bear it. He had my mom hang up the crucifix that his grandparents had received as a wedding gift and brought from Germany; it went on the wall he would see when his eyes opened. He wanted to die at home.

Time slowed. We sat by his bedside and together watched the clouds travel across the window and tree leaves blow in the wind. Hospice was called in to help with pain management. My Dad spoke of having no regrets and helped each member of the family deal with their grief. Two weeks before he died, all of his children and their spouses and grandchildren gathered to spend a week to celebrate my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary early.

God directed my husband and daughter through a chain of events to return from the Peruvian Highlands sooner than they had expected. My dad waited for my brother to arrive from Alaska before slipping into unconsciousness.

I felt God's presence as my Dad labored to breathe and we kept watch. He died three nights later with his wife and four children close by. His death occurred at the end of August during a breathtaking lunar eclipse. He still had a lot of plans when his "73,000 mile" aka 73-year warranty gave out, but viewed his death as "life's greatest adventure."

His funeral was a tribute to the man and his faith. Three employees and a friend served as pall bearers and my sister and I were cup ministers. Two granddaughters sang his hymns while other grandchildren served as acolytes, lectors, and brought up the gifts. My Dad used his time and talents to grow in faith and build the kingdom of God.

His was a life worth living.

Ann Huster

# St. Mary's Soup Kitchen

St. Mary's Church in Albany, Oregon is not easy to miss. There are two main downtown streets that go through the northern part of the city, one each way. If you are heading north you will come to the last stop light that leads to all directions south, east and west. While you sit in your car waiting for that light to change, drumming your fingers on the wheel to the sound of the latest radio hit, you can hardly miss the big white church on the corner. That's St. Mary's.

I'm Catholic, so granted I'm more apt to take a look at the Church as I drive by to see what might be going on. What grabbed my interest early on (I'm new to Albany) was that on certain afternoons there would be a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk, chatting, moving about aimlessly, restless, looking bored, looking lost, looking forlorn. Who were these people I wondered? What were they doing there?

Of course once my interest was piqued, I had to find out what was going on. It didn't require much detective work. A simple question after daily Mass one day to a new friend and I was told it was the Soup Kitchen.

Really? Wow. How cool is that? I mean, I had read about soup kitchens before and I knew that some churches have them, but in my limited experience it seemed to be a Protestant thing. It always seemed like Catholics soup kitchens were sponsored by the big organizations in our system like Catholic Charities or St. Vincent's, or a religious community with an outreach to the poor. But a single, local parish having one? How common is that?

I decided to find out. It took a little more detective work. About four seconds worth. I typed "Catholic Soup kitchen" into the Google search box and lo and behold there on the first page were 11 entries. One was a paid announcement (strike that off, wasn't even Catholic) four were other Catholic ministries, not parishes, and one was a news event about a priest killed at a soup kitchen in Peru. This left five entries of soup kitchens that were run by Catholic parishes, and one of them was our very own St. Mary's Church in Albany, Oregon.

I definitely wanted to find out more about this amazing ministry. Two people are listed in the parish bulletin for the Soup Kitchen, Suzy Stothoff and Pat Jacobson. I was already acquainted with Pat because I see her every day at daily Mass. So the next morning, I asked Pat if I could follow her around for a couple of hours on one of her Soup Kitchen days and ask questions. She was happy to oblige so we set up a date for my Soup Kitchen tour.

The first stop on the tour was the kitchen; it was much bigger than I thought it would be. Located in the Church basement (I'd never had a reason to go down into those lower, holy regions before) it was a quite amazing complex. The kitchen itself was immaculate. Stainless steel counters, freshly scrubbed sinks and a fairly large sized convection oven. Pat showed me the walk-in refrigeration room that had only recently been installed and was obviously her pride and joy. It wasn't huge, only 8 by 10 feet but it was, she said, much bigger than the small box they had before. There was also a smaller freezer unit in which they kept some meats, frozen vegetables, and other food stuffs.

In order to keep the doors of the Soup Kitchen open they must take advantage of every opportunity to get free or low cost food. This means working with as much donated food as possible and lots of volunteer time. Several local food stores in the area donate on a regular basis: Fred Meyer, Albertsons and Safeway. Two coffee shops, Starbucks on Hickory Street and Cork's Donuts, are regular supporters that give back to the community through their donations to the Soup Kitchen. Local farmers share their produce, and even parishioners and community friends come by with food from their home gardens. A local community garden is generous with what they produce; melons, corn, beans, and other vegetables. It takes more work to make delicious meals from bits and pieces, but the labor of love and service that goes into each and every meal is amply repaid by knowing that they are reaching out to thankful hearts and needy stomachs.

Suzy Stothoff and Pat Jacobson are at the hub of the soup kitchen wheel. I don't know what their job description reads like, but it probably doesn't come close to the hours and work that they put in each month to make the soup kitchen such a success. Unlike a normal restaurant where the food is ordered and comes in neat packages, fresh and ready to go, preparing food for a delicious soup kitchen meal takes a bit more work. First, not all the food that comes into the kitchen may be in good shape. It has to be sorted: fresh, usable and not so useable. The "not so useable" food goes into buckets that will be picked up by a local pig farmer, the freshest of the vegetables may be refrigerated and saved for a day or two, and the "use today or throw away" stuff needs to be cooked and worked with immediately.

I could see that it was quite a challenge to keep up with the food, let nothing go to waste and yet serve a tasty meal three times a week. "Menus can be planned ahead," Pat explained, "but what comes in through donations each day may cause a complete change." Flexibility is not an option with St. Mary's Soup Kitchen; it's the core of the program. By using as much free and donated food as possible, no matter what extra effort it takes to use it, they have been able to keep the doors open every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 5:00 in the afternoon to 6:00 p.m. for the last 27 years.

Aside from the free and low-cost food, there is something else that is vital to keeping those doors open and hungry mouths fed. That is the hours and hours of volunteer time. Suzy and Pat are paid for about 48 hours a month but it takes a lot more than that to get those meals on the table. It would take a greater mathematician than I am to count the hours that go into raising the food on local farms and home gardens, the preparation of the food, the fund raising, the endless cleaning (St. Mary's food kitchen is top rated for cleanliness) and the serving, packaging and storing for the next meal. Some days there are as many as 20 volunteer and community service workers buzzing around like bees to get the work done.

Until several years ago, Suzy and Pat would come in early and stay long after the volunteers had gone home. They washed the tables, and swept and mopped the dining room, bathroom, and hallway floors. Before they left they also made sure everything was in order for the next meal day. That is when they found some money in their budget to bring in another great worker, Marcie Barksdale, to help them out for a few hours at the end of the day.

I asked Pat at one point (she is also the bookkeeper) what their budget was like. How much does it cost to serve over 150 meals a year, to pay for three part time workers, and to keep the lights on and the doors open? She said it took approximately 35,000 dollars. I was amazed. I do not know how so much can be done for so little. I am certain that each and every worker, volunteer, supporter, friend and parishioner of St. Mary's will be blessed for the good that is being done on the corner of Ninth and Ellsworth Street.

Blessed are the poor and blessed are they who help them.

Patricia Proctor

# Circle of Life

I was born and raised a Catholic and it has always been a very important part of my life. Twenty-six years ago when we were getting ready to move to Albany from Holden, Massachusetts, I made a phone call to St. Mary's as I wanted to offer my faith and ministry to the Church when I got there. They sounded surprised by my inquiry. Later I learned they thought I must be crazy.

I quickly got involved in Religious Education, teaching grade four, the years they taught Reconciliation after First Communion. For fifteen years I was in a Bible Class that was spiritual, but offered friendship and love. I was on the Liturgy Committee during those years after the Church fire when we were wandering from place to place as we tried to make wherever we were look special. That was a challenge, but God was always there and it became sacred ground. I was on the Inventory Committee after the fire and have participated in being on the Pastoral Council, Visitor to the Sick, Anniversary Mass in the Park and with the Bereavement Ministry. I have worked in the Parish Office, plus five years as the secretary of the school. Now I will be going back to the parish office part time.

During these years I have experienced the sadness of divorce and the trauma of cancer. My oldest daughter and her family were killed in a tragic car accident in Africa; we had a memorial service here. Two of my children were married here and two of my grandchildren were baptized at St. Mary's. All of this has been celebrated with my dear family and friends and the great pastors who guided our journey with God. Without them this would not be possible.

I believe in the circle of life that we are on a journey together, we are not alone. All those in heaven meet us on the circle and help guide us to God.

Marty Kloeck

# You Are a Catholic?

Jack and I came to the lovely town of Albany in January 1947. The population at that time was about eight thousand. The Catholic congregation was quite small. We were impressed with the beautiful church of St. Mary's and greeted by the pastor, Father Waters.

That same spring my sister Katie and her husband Wendell Mack moved to Albany. Two years later in 1949 they had their second child and asked my brother, Andrew and I to be sponsors. During the baptismal ceremony, Father Waters reading from the ritual of the church ceremony, asked us if we were both practicing Catholics? We said, yes, we were. Okay so far. The baptismal font was at the back of the church. I was holding the baby and Father asked us to follow him to the main altar in front of the church while saying prayers. I have had a hearing problem from a very early age and so though I didn't hear what he said I figured we were to go to the back of the church where the baptismal font was. I also hadn't heard what prayers they were saying but sort of mumbled something along as I went, acting as if I was saying the proper prayers whatever they might be. I got to the baptismal font, turned around and saw Father from the altar looking at me with a puzzled expression. Father made his way back to the font where I was and baby Gary was properly baptized. Later, after signing the registry, Father looks at me and says, "You are a Catholic? You need to memorize the 'Hail Mary' and the 'Our Father' it is not too late."

Oh, for goodness sake! I know those prayers! Not only in English but in German too! Yes, that was an embarrassing moment.

Father Martin Doherty was our next priest. My husband, Jack, along with Frank Zarones and Jack Wentworth (as I remember) made up the Pastoral Finance Board. They shared many thoughts and ideas (and an occasional Scotch and Soda) with Father Doherty.

I learned to drive and got my first driver's license so I could take the children to St. Mary's school. Jack was elected as the first male PTA president the year Sister Germaine was school principal. She teamed up with Sister Victoria and they had a great time dressing Jack up as Santa Claus that year. Sister Blanche became the principal after Sister Germaine.

Since we were married by a Justice of Peace (my husband had divorced) we had been unable to receive the sacraments. Jack's two children from his former marriage, Lorretta and Stan came to live with us. Jack asked Father Doherty (once again) if there was a chance that we could express our vows in the church and return to receiving 'Holy Communion.' Father said, "No, not yet, but do participate at Mass, always." Although we never lost hope or our faith, with our family steadily growing this was becoming ever more painful. But sadly, this was our cross to bear. In writing the genealogy of my parents, I found out, that as far back as 1776, my family had always been faithful Catholics. Jack's parents were faithful Catholics as well.

After our children, Rod, Rickey, Randy and Jackie had all made their First Communions it was Jolene's turn. Father Anthony had been transferred and Father Edward Alstock became our assistant priest. Father Doherty had told Father Alstock of our situation. Father came to our house one day and said, "Since Jolene is making her First Holy Communion, wouldn't you like to receive the sacraments again?" I could not believe my ears! He went on to say that he and Father Doherty had been reviewing the issues and thought it was permitted for us to get a "Degree non Inquietandi." In June 1970, through the efforts of Father Alstock we were granted this special permission by Archbishop Robert Dwyer, archdiocese of Portland. For the first time since our marriage we both felt completely "whole" again and felt a stronger connection to God, the church and congregation. Finally we felt that we truly belonged. After Jolene made her First Holy Communion, we all received the sacraments as a family.

I have had a hearing problem (as I mentioned earlier), since I was twelve or thirteen years old. Since about 1950 I have had several hearing aids, none successful until about the 1970's. I could not hear in group gatherings or hear the homilies at St. Mary's. We were all devastated when we lost our beautiful church through the fire on a Sunday evening, October 29, 1989. When the new church was built in 1992 a special hearing "loop system" was installed. Jack kept telling me that my hearing aids had a button I needed to press to activate them. I didn't pay much attention (he always said I was stubborn) but one Sunday, at yet another pleading (a jab to the ribs) I tapped the button on each aid. What a wonderful surprise! All the sounds around me were completely shut off but the homily came through the microphone clear as a bell. I heard every word! I thought the words of Father's sermon were meant only for me. I sincerely hope others have experienced this wonderful invention.

The priests of St. Mary's have been an inspiration to me. Father Mel Stead, Father Dennis Donovan, Father Dan Adams, Father Patrick Walsh and the number of nuns who taught at the school and instilled a good education for our children. Father Betts, with his gentle manner, wisdom and great sense of humor will remain with me always as will the number of Deacons we have had in the past few years.

One hundred twenty-five years of St. Mary's in Albany! As I reflect on my sixty-three years here, I give thanks that I have been privileged to take part in worshipping under the watchful eyes and ears of six Popes: Pius XII, Blessed John XXIII, Paul I, John Paul I, John Paul II and Benedict XVI (our 266th Pope as of 2005). I have witnessed the many changes of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council and the addition of the new "Luminous Mysteries" of the rosary.

Members of my family have been called home. In 1962, my second child, Rickey, was riding his bike when he was struck by a drunken driver; pulmonary fibrosis took my husband Jack after sixty one and a half years together. Yet grief has not weakened my faith but rather made my spirituality even stronger. Daily prayers continue to sustain me, especially the rosary and devotions to St. Francis of Assisi.

As I write this, we have been assigned a new priest, Father Andrew Thomas: young, energetic and enthusiastic, a perfect fit. I will forever be grateful I live at such a time. God is always near me.

Agnes Keller (Bruner)

# I Learned Forgiveness

As a registered nurse of some years' vintage, I've come in contact with many types of patients . . . a number of whom are very difficult to deal with for one reason or another. Some are alcoholics and drug users who are often verbally and physically abusive to healthcare workers; some behave like hotel customers and want the nurse to wait on them hand and foot; while others are outcasts who exist on the fringes of society because they have offended against society in some manner.

It's hard not to be judgmental toward these folks and I have to fight the tendency to do so every day because my job is to care, not to condemn. But my resolve was put to a severe test one night a few years ago as I was picking up my patient assignment and saw a name that I'd read before only in newspaper headlines: the man who had set the fire that burned down our St. Mary's church!

At first I refused to take him as a patient. How could I possibly care for the man who had burned down my Church? I pleaded with the nursing supervisor to assign him to a different nurse; I knew that none of the others on duty that night were Catholic, nor did they have any ties with St. Mary's. Why should I, of all people, have to take care of this monster?

It seemed reasonable enough to me that one of my co-workers could take him while I took one of theirs, but no such luck was to be had, for instead of assignments being made by the previous shift's charge nurse, as was the custom, the supervisor himself had done them. Thus they might as well have been carved in stone, for they were not flexible and neither was the supervisor.

Resigned to the situation, I nonetheless looked in on my other four patients and took my time assessing them and getting them ready for sleep before tending to him. His call light came on just as I was bracing myself for the encounter; taking a deep breath, I uttered a brief prayer for patience and went in to face the man who had destroyed my Church.

I don't know what sort of troll I was expecting him to be; what I found was a sad, sick man in a hospital bed who had called only because his water pitcher was empty. "I'm so sorry to bother you, Ma'am," he said in a quiet voice that had just the hint of a Southern drawl to it, "but I asked them for some water a couple of hours ago, and I'm really thirsty."

I took the pitcher silently, filled it with ice and water as he'd requested, and set it down on the overbed table. "I am really sorry, Ma'am," he said again, "but I thank you so much for your time and trouble. I'll try not to bother you too much, I know you're busy."

That gave me pause. Here was a man who had done an evil thing, yet he was more polite and respectful than most of my VIP patients. He had done hard time in prison, come home to a community that didn't want him, had nowhere to go but a tent on the grounds of the county jail . . . and yet his voice was so soft, and his manner so subdued, that it was hard to believe this could be the same person who had repaid a kindness by torching a historic building.

"Are you having any discomfort?" I asked him as I listened to his heart and lungs and performed the usual nursing assessments.

"No, ma'am," he responded in that same polite, soft-spoken tone. "I appreciate you asking, though. Most of them don't."

Suddenly, all that righteous anger dissolved and I felt terribly, terribly sorry for my patient. Whatever he had been for sixty-odd years, he was now merely a sick man in a place that existed only for the purpose of healing sick people like him . . . yet even here he was regarded as a pariah. I looked closer at him and saw that his bed linens and his hospital gown needed changing, that his pillows had sweat stains on the cases from multiple fever spikes, that no one had emptied the trash bag that was overflowing with used tissues.

Clearly, my sentiments toward him were shared by other caregivers . . . but seeing the obvious neglect of his comfort and dignity, even while his medical needs were being addressed, made me feel ashamed. Who were we to decide he hadn't suffered enough? Indeed, who was I to sit in judgment of whether he had adequately paid his debt to society?

The rest of that night passed in relative peace and quiet, and I felt a little less guilty after stripping both my patient and his bed of the dirty linens and refreshing him with a quick bed bath. He remained polite and appreciative, while I went about my business giving him the kind of care I pride myself on giving every patient no matter how much I may dislike them personally.

I've never seen him again since that night; soon after, he was discharged from the hospital and went to live somewhere else for a time, then came back to Albany to try to blend in somehow with the society that had rejected him so long ago. I don't know where he is today; all I know is that in taking care of him that night, I learned more about forgiveness and redemption than the best sermon could ever have taught me.

Marla Lawrence

# Weekly Dosage Required

I remember the old St. Mary's with its dark interior and occasional ray of sunlight that filtered through the windows, sprinkling a myriad of colors here and there throughout the Church. The creaking benches, the hard kneelers, and the distinct musty odor of 'old" permeated our Church. I went to Mass with my husband each Sunday but did not receive Communion. Oh, I was a fully baptized Catholic, had attended eight years of Catholic elementary school, and was even confirmed, but I was not a hypocrite. That was what I thought anyway.

I would watch with frustration as folks devotedly processed to the altar to receive the Holy Eucharist each week, people who I knew had broken the commandments and committed sins throughout the week. How could they dare to receive Communion? Was it just an egotistical show, or something they did because everyone else was doing it?

Didn't they hear the priest say, "Lord I am not worthy to receive you, just say the word and I will be healed" before Communion? I felt I was not worthy and was indeed waiting for the word to be healed!

And so it was, until we eventually stopped going to Mass. Life continued as usual until God sent us a baby boy when I was 40 and my husband was 48 years old. We wanted our son to be raised with good moral values and with the knowledge and love of God, so we returned to God's house. We became active practicing Catholics, and when our son was old enough to attend school, he was welcomed into St. Mary's School.

I really don't know how or when it happened, but the Holy Spirit definitely gotten a hold of me. I have come to realize that we sinful people do need to receive Communion every week. The Eucharist gives us strength to help us resist the temptations of sin that will confront us throughout the week. Sometimes we will succeed and sometimes we will fail, but God always welcomes us back for another dose of the good stuff, of having the Lord, Jesus Christ in our lives!

Joyce Moreira

# Many Memories

Strangely, it was religious intolerance that brought the Talbott family to Albany and to Our Lady of Perpetual Help Parish. My father, Richard Arthur Talbott, and mother, Lenore Maurine Murray, were raised in Pueblo, Colorado. He was a member of a strong Catholic family and she was a member of a strong Baptist family. Neither family approved of their engagement so they left town to be married. My father took a job as an expediter of a construction management company on a project in Marshfield, now Coos Bay, Oregon, in 1923. My older brother, Richard Murray (Dick) was born there in 1924.

My parents decided that moving from place to place with a construction company was not the ideal way to raise a family, so in 1925 my father took a job with Mountain States Power Company which had its headquarters in Albany. (It later merged into Pacific Power and Light.) I came along in 1925, my younger brother, Philip Dean was born in 1927, and my little sister, Catherine Sue (Kitty), joined the family in 1930. We lived at 717 Broadalbin Street hardly a half block from the block occupied by the Church, hall, rectory and school.

The school was built by the Benedictine sisters, not the parish, and they staffed and managed the school. Sister Felicitas was the principal. All of us children attended St. Mary's Academy. In that day there were about 90 students in eight grades in three classrooms and one room for library and study hall. The school occupied the west half of the building fronting on Broadalbin. The east half of the building was the convent, the living quarters for the sisters and for the American Indian students who boarded there. The Indians were from the Klamath Reservation.

The ground floor of the school was composed of two "bare" rooms which were the places for recess during rainy weather. There were two classrooms on the second floor and one classroom and the study hall/library on the third floor. There was a music room on the second floor adjacent to the school where piano lessons were given and the school choir practiced, I among them. Sister Theophane was the choir director and music teacher.

There was a slide fire escape from the south side of the third floor. We kids loved to climb up the slide and slide down - which was frowned upon by the good sisters. We often had fire drills when we children would march very orderly down the steps and out the school doors to Broadalbin Street.

There were sets of rings hung from chains from wood beams fastened between trees near the Eighth Street sidewalk. We kids would try our gymnastic skills. I remember when Darby Tupper, one of the Indian boarding students, tried some tricks and fell, suffering a double compound fracture of his right lower arm.

In those days, the church bell in the steeple was rung five minutes before Mass. An altar boy would be dispatched up the choir loft and around behind the organ and through a little door to where the rope hanging from the bell was reachable. We would alternately pull on the rope with all our might and release it, and the bell in the steeple would begin to ring. It was also customary then to toll the bell for funeral services. Some of us found the steps and ladder up the steeple to be just too tempting, and we would climb up to where the bell was. We could see all around through the openings at the bell level. I never heard of any one falling which I suggest is evidence of God's love for children.

In those early days the Church was heated with steam which was generated in a wood fired boiler which was situated just west of the Church. Many are the times in winter when the radiators in the church would bang and bang as they warmed up, distracting from the sacred rites taking place at the altar.

My father was a member of the Knights of Columbus and a Grand Knight of the Albany Council. Whenever the sisters or the pastor needed something done, they would call upon the KC's. I remember the work party that dug the hole and raised the flag pole and concreted it in place on the south lawn. A big deal was its dedication. There were speeches and the American Legion Junior Drum Corps marched and played for the event. All four of us Talbott children were members of the drum corps. Dick- bugle, Philip - cymbals, Kitty - snare drum, and I the base drum.

We moved to a small farm in the Sunrise area in 1933, so getting to and from church and school was a bit harder, especially when one was a server at the eight o'clock a.m. Mass. One had to rise early, do the barn chores, milk the cows and hustle off to the Church.

The school would put on programs in the parish hall which had a small stage. I remember the Christmas celebrations, graduation ceremonies, card parties, parish dinners and meetings. The church was connected to the sacristy on the south side which was connected to the parish hall which was connected to the parsonage.

Father Albert Carmody was the first pastor I remember. He was succeeded by Father John Waters (who perpetually regretted his reassignment from Astoria).

My mother remained a Baptist until I was in high school when she became a Catholic. All the while she was a strong supporter of the school and parish. She was particularly supportive of the parish library.

My father died in 1960 while visiting relatives in Arizona. My mother had to let go of taking care of the livestock but stayed on the farm for some time. Ultimately she took an apartment in the city within walking distance of the Church and then to a retirement home in Albany until 1989 when she died at the age of 91. Her requiem Mass was celebrated at the "Christian Church" (protestant) which graciously allowed St. Mary's to use their facilities after the old church burned and before the new church was completed.

All three of us boys served during World War II: Dick in the Navy, Phil in the Air Force, and I in the Army all with overseas service. Kitty took on the farm chores while we were away.

Dick, who graduated from Albany High School in 1942, finished his Chemical Engineering Degree at OSC in 1947 and moved into industry. He was recalled for the Korean War and after separation his career culminated as assistant general manager of R.T. Vanderbilt Co. paint and paper division with offices in New York City. He died of cancer in 1969 leaving a wife, two sons and a daughter.

Phil graduated from Albany High School in 1945 and after his military service moved to Los Angeles and worked in the newspaper industry. He never married and died in 1989 of cancer.

Kitty graduated from Albany High School in 1947, graduated from Oregon State in 1951 and became a medical technologist. She married Floyd Runyan then of Corvallis in 1952. She had four sons and two daughters. She died of cancer in Portland in 2002.

I graduated from Albany High in 1943 and from Oregon State College in engineering in 1949. I served as City Engineer in Albany before I was recalled for the Korean war. I married Ruth Hoffman of Portland in 1951, and we had one son and four daughters. I became a consulting engineer and at 84 1/2 I am still doing a little engineering, most recently (pro bono) for All Saints parish which I attend in Portland.

I have always appreciated the excellent education and faith foundation I received in Albany. I grieved at the burning of the beautiful old church.

John Arthur (Jack) Talbott

# A Lesson in Faith

On the evening of October 29, 1989, a friend called to tell me that our Church was on fire. I hurried to the site and stood with many people in stunned silence as our beautiful historic church—Our Lady of Perpetual Help (St. Mary's) burned to the ground.

In the months and years that followed, Masses were said in gymnasiums, school lecture halls, vacant retail stores—any place that space was available. The congregation came together to grieve, rebuild and focus on the theme that "We will rise again" as Christ had taught us.

During this time, I traveled throughout the country, attending Mass in beautiful cathedrals, small neighborhood parishes, elegant modern churches and old missions. Yet, something was always missing.

Finally, it dawned on me that my "Church" was back in Albany, Oregon. It did not matter what the building looked like. It was the people that made up my community of faith. It was a lesson in what should have been obvious. In 1992, we dedicated a new building to call home for our parish.

Charlene (Char) Walters 

# In Times of Sorrow

My family has been active in St. Mary's Parish since 1977 and a few memories of our years here stand out above the others. When Father Betts retired, the parish created a "thank you" book for him. In it, I joked about how I had somehow been hooked into serving five years on the Parish Council when the usual term was three, and mentioned some of the things we did during those years. Then I went on to tell him that the single thing my family was most grateful to him for was the wonderful way he handled my mom's funeral Mass. She was 98 years old when she died and had not been able to attend Mass for years due to health issues. Father John really didn't know her, so he sat down with me the day before the funeral so we could talk about her life. From that conversation, he wove a beautiful and touching sermon that took us all the way back to her San Francisco heritage.

Years later Father T was assigned to our parish, and within a week of his arrival my sister Betty died. She had lived with Down Syndrome and had suffered the fast onset of Alzheimer's which led to her death. Hers was going to be Father T's first funeral at St. Mary's. Prior to the funeral, I met with Father T to show him pictures of her and to tell him about her life and the challenges she had faced. He did a great job of blending her life story with Bible verses during his sermon, and topped it off with a song that impressed many of our non Catholic visitors. Once again, a St. Mary's priest did a wonderful job on a funeral Mass for an individual they had never met! Our family will always be thankful for the wonderful sensitivity shown to us during our times of sorrow.

The church fire is another memory that many of us will never forget. I was born on October 30th, 19XX. On Sunday, October 29, 1989, my family took me to the Buzz Saw Restaurant on the Willamette for my birthday dinner. While we were eating, we heard a lot of sirens and asked the waitress what was going on. She told us there was a fire on Ellsworth and warned us not to go home that way. We lived in North Albany, so when we headed home we went down First and over the bridge. We didn't give the fire another thought until the next morning when Rae Dean and I each drove down Ellsworth to our respective jobs. We both almost wrecked our cars when we saw that our beautiful church had burned down. All that was left standing was the right front corner of the building. Our new church is great, but we old timers will tell you that all the beauty and grand architecture doesn't come close to our old church!

Bill Clotere

# A New Direction

My first visit to St. Mary's Church is tucked warmly away in my memory bank. It was Christmas Eve, 1953, and the Church was dimly lit and decorated for Christmas. The fragrant smell of incense and greenery filled the air. The choir sang the hymns of the season and the altar boys scurried to light the altar candles. I was a 16-year-old Protestant girl who had been invited to midnight Mass to worship and celebrate Christmas with a handsome young man who was singing in the choir. As soon as I stepped into the church, I felt the presence of God, the reverence of the congregation, and the excitement of families joining together to worship and receive holy Communion. I also felt the Holy Spirit prompting me to a new direction in my faith journey.

I come from a very caring and well-intentioned Christian family, and was blessed with a strong faith in God that started in my childhood. From an early age, my mother planted and nurtured seeds of faith in my heart and soul, and I sincerely believed then as I do now that God really does love me. At our church, my mother had been my Sunday school teacher, and at home I observed as she prayerfully studied the Scriptures. Mother allowed me to participate in her prayer life, and encouraged me to read the Bible each day and to work on memorizing the scripture.

My grandmother also talked with me about the love of Jesus throughout my childhood. She had two pictures in her home that inspired my belief; one was the picture of "Christ the Pilot," and the other was "Behold, I Stand at the Door and Knock." I still have a card from Grandmother that expresses her love and counsels me to always remember that Christ is the pilot in our lives. She also had a statue of the Virgin Mary that graced the dining area in her home. Oh, how I loved these visuals and felt that her home was a very special place to be.

The beginning of my conversion to Catholicism was very stressful. My parents worried about my decision and at the same time my boyfriend's family welcomed me to join the faith. I hated the stir that I was experiencing. I prayed, read the scriptures, and searched my soul as I considered joining the Catholic Church. In matters of faith, I turned to my mother for counsel and she always advised me to search my heart for the answer.

During this time, my friend became my steady boyfriend and I often worshipped with him and his family at St. Mary's. Each time I walked into the Church, I was captivated by the incredibly beautiful statuary and other visuals in the church. We also enjoyed taking part in parties and dances that were sponsored by the CYO (Catholic Youth Organization) and developed lots of friendships with other young people through these activities.

My boyfriend and I eventually became engaged. I was so happy that I was going to marry a man who would practice the faith and attend Mass with me! However, I was not yet Catholic and in order for us to be married in the Church, I needed to receive what was called "marriage instruction." I received these instructions from Father Anthony. It was a journey of five years from the time I first stepped foot into St. Mary's Church to that Sunday afternoon in August when my husband and I were married at St. Mary's.

After our wedding, we moved to Tillamook, Oregon where we had both accepted teaching assignments. My husband encouraged me to take instructions to fully join the Church and his support was critical to my taking the next step.

Father Vincent Koeppert gave me my instructions, heard my First Confession, and became an important part of our family. My brother-in-law and a close friend were my baptismal and confirmation sponsors the day I was officially welcomed into the Church.

Even after I converted to Catholicism, there were so many rules and prayers to learn that I was quite intimidated by it all. Much of the Mass was in Latin, so when I messed up, one of my seven sisters-in-law would help redirect me. My mother-in-law had also been a convert, so she understood my dilemma and was very loving and encouraging to me. I find it humorous now, but at the time it was a quite a struggle.

When we moved our family to Tigard, Oregon we joined St. Anthony Parish. We were blessed with two young sons, and seeing them experience the blessings of the Church was a time of great celebration within our large extended family.

As I look back at my life, I clearly see how the Holy Spirit was always there to fill my world and give me strength. I found support through many friends and family members who encouraged me in my faith, especially later as my husband was dying. The two of us found comfort and strength during that difficult time through our families, the medical community at St. Vincent Hospital, the eucharistic ministry, our pastor, Father Les Seig, and the members of St. Anthony Church. The intervention of those who loved and cared for us and of those who did not know us but remembered us in prayer were what sustained us and helped us find peace in those hard times.

In November, the St. Anthony Choir traveled to New York to sing in Carnegie Hall, my husband's voice was still strong and beautiful. We enjoyed the trip with members of the choir and with one of his sisters. Although his health was declining, he continued to be an active part of the music ministry until his strength ran out. When he could no longer participate, the choir singers were there to support him with visits and in prayer. The church members, the music ministry, the Knights of Columbus, the Catholic Daughters, and friends of other Christian churches surrounded us with prayer. In April my husband died.

As a new widow, I found peace and direction in moving forward in continuing to build a beautiful life by attending Mass, practicing my faith, prayer, and by participating in the activities at St. Anthony's. Three years after the death of my husband, I returned to my roots by moving to my farm property, east of Albany. I transferred my membership to St. Mary's where I continue to enjoy the way the Church feeds my faith in different ways throughout the year.

Nancy Kay Haas

# Kaleidoscope of Color

Sometimes one single memory does not stand out when I look at my faith journey; it is rather a kaleidoscope of many pieces and colors. Each piece or memory adds and changes the picture into something new and alive.

St. Mary's has been the central focus of my faith life for over fifty years. When I first arrived in 1956 from Nebraska, I was a single mother with a young boy. My husband had been killed in the War and I wanted a fresh start away from the terrible storms of Nebraska that frightened me.

I had some family members here who I visited a number of times before I decided to make this my permanent home, but it was not long after I moved here that the Church became my extended family as well. My son was soon dressed in the St. Mary's school uniform, and he would trot off eagerly to school each day.

Mrs. Derrah was an active parishioner who took me under her wing and helped me to feel loved and needed at St. Mary's. She was in charge of the school lunch program, and soon I was volunteering to help several times a week. Several groups of lunchroom volunteers rotated weeks working in the school kitchen. During their assigned week, each group was in charge of buying the groceries and preparing the meals for the hungry students. The children enjoyed seeing the different volunteers each week.

Somehow or other, under the support and encouragement of Mrs. Derrah, I became involved in many other activities at the Church and school. I worked in the library once a week and volunteered for school field trips. I helped with church suppers, bazaars, and other events where I was able to offer what time and talent I had to make a contribution to the Church. There was never a dull moment!

In time I remarried and had another son and two daughters. When the girls were old enough, they supervised younger children during church events while my son and husband would be busy doing their part as well. We pretty much took it for granted that being a part of St. Mary's meant lending a helping hand when it was needed if we could.

The Mass has been the central power and strength of my faith. If going on a trip near or far meant that I would not be able to attend Mass, then I did not go on the trip. The Mass has always meant that much to me. Through the years I have experienced many different priests, and some I related better to than others, however, that never influenced my decision to go to Mass. I have been part of the Eucharistic life of St. Mary's for hundreds of Sundays and the presence of God in the Eucharist continues to fill my heart and spirit.

Rita Moore

# Don't Tell Anyone

I attended St. Mary's School through the 1950's. Father Martin Doherty was our pastor and Father Anthony Terhaar, OSB, from Mt. Angel was our assistant pastor. I had always held them in high esteem.

When I was in about the seventh grade, our class was on recess and playing work-up softball. Father Anthony came over and said he'd like to bat, but he didn't want to work up to that position. Of course no one objected. He stepped up to the plate and, on the first try, he hit the ball hard. It sailed right through a window of the school leaving a gaping hole. He lifted his Cassock just enough to allow him to run fast. As he sped away, he yelled, "Don't tell anyone!" We watched his retreating figure in shocked silence. Which one of us was going to take the blame? As it turned out, we did not really have anything to worry about because he "fessed up" to the nuns by the time we got back to our classroom.

That was the day I realized that priests are human just like us.

Later, Father Anthony witnessed our marriage in a beautiful ceremony. We became good friends and, after he retired, we would visit him at Mt. Angel and take his favorite treat, peanut brittle.

Kathleen (Rambousek) Schrock

# My Husband's Gift

In June of 1997, I found out that my husband of 17 years had been having several affairs and wanted out of our marriage. Our divorce was final a little over a year later. Following the divorce, and feeling like I would never be happy again, I met a wonderful man named Dan Sullivan who had also been recently divorced. With the support of our children, we married in July of 2000.

Over the next few years, we blended our family and began to dig ourselves out of the financial mess our divorces left us in. We worked hard to pay off most of our outstanding debt and took our kids on a two week vacation to Southern California and Disneyland. Shortly after returning home from vacation, Dan suffered a seizure which sent him to the hospital. It wasn't long before he was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme, a brain tumor. Dan had been baptized into the Church as an infant and had gone to parochial school through eighth grade. At that time he and his family had moved to Oregon from California and had fallen away from the Church.

Following the diagnosis of Dan's illness, his surgery and treatment, I told him that I needed to get back to church. I was not Catholic, so I attended a foursquare church in Philomath. Dan tagged along a few times, but he wasn't comfortable. We tried several other churches in the area but couldn't find one we were both comfortable in. Dan had a desire to talk to a priest so we went to Florence to talk to Father Don, the priest at his mother's church. Dan asked me to join them, and that was when I found out that he wanted to get back into the Catholic Church and have our marriage blessed. I felt that joining the Catholic faith and having our marriage blessed by the Church was the least I could do for my husband.

Shortly after that, Dan and I visited St. Mary's here in Albany and connected with Father Betts and Kathy Reilly to discuss the process for me to join the Church. Paperwork was filed and I started taking RCIA classes. Dan attended with me. As the summer came and went, Dan's illness progressed to where treatment was no longer working. I met with Father Betts to discuss my concern that Dan might not live until Easter when I was to be baptized and confirmed. Because of the circumstances, Father Betts consented to baptizing me early. I chose my 44th birthday for the occasion since it was the following month. On September 2, 2004, I was baptized and Dan and I renewed our wedding vows with our parents and children present.

Dan had to stop attending classes, but I continued and took Communion home to him after Mass each week. I was confirmed at the Easter Vigil in March 2005. Dan passed away in April. Since his death, I have said that I began by joining the Church for him, but it was he that gave me the gift.

I still attend RCIA classes but am now part of the RCIA team. I also serve as a Eucharistic minister and will begin serving as a lector soon. I was asked to be the captain of a team for Relay for Life for St. Mary's in 2005 and have had a team each year since. I work full-time for the school district, have a 23-year-old son and 20-year-old daughter at home, and have just completed my Bachelor of Arts degree in Business Management. I know several other young women who have also lost their husbands recently and do my best to help them through the tough times.

I try to be a disciple of Jesus by trying to set an example for my children, working hard, showing kindness and patience to others, and leaving the rest up to Him. That's not always easy to do, but it is what I work towards.

Kathie Caldwell Sullivan

# Why Did God Allow This?

My 29-year-old son, David, was lying in OHSU Hospital undergoing what we thought was a procedure to fix a frozen shoulder. Ivana, David's bride of three months, my husband, Bob, our daughter, Kristina, and I engaged in happy conversation while we waited for the procedure to be done. As we were talking, two serious looking doctors interrupted us saying they had looked at the MRI again and believed there was a problem other than a frozen shoulder. Then they told us that the biopsy looked cancerous.

Our faces went into shock. The doctors and a hospital counselor ushered us into a private area. I heard someone say something about praying and emphatically I responded "No!" as I selfishly thought, "God, why did you allow this? He is so young, capable, giving..." Alone in our thoughts, we returned home. My emotions raced with denial, fright, anger, helplessness. Nothing helped. I felt abandoned by the God I had always trusted and loved.

One morning after leaving St. Mary's chapel, my tears broke loose. From around the corner came Kathy Reilly. She listened and took me into her arms, and in silence she held me tight. Unknown to Kathy, a calming sensation fell upon me, as if Jesus were holding me. I was in pain. Kathy comforted me with a hug of love; I believe the Holy Spirit transformed her comforting into the sensation I was experiencing.

Shortly thereafter, I slowly began accepting David's illness. My conversations with God changed from complaining and anger to resignation, asking forgiveness for words I had said to Him, and expressing gratitude. Prayers flowed from St. Mary's prayer chain, relatives, and friends. I am happy to say that my son has been in remission for almost 15 years.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, "We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love." For me it was the great love of people willing to listen, a calming hug, and hundreds of prayers that turned my darkness into light during that difficult time.

Mary Tence

# Our Faith Community

We moved to Albany in 1997 with three small, blonde daughters in tow. We didn't know a soul, and felt very alone in our new community. However, that didn't last long. We began attending St. Mary's immediately as we knew this was the best place to start finding new friends and to become part of a small, close-knit community. After Mass one day, we enjoyed donuts (our daughters' favorite thing to do after Mass) in the Gathering Space. We sat with another family who also had small children and began talking. We had much in common including our faith.

About a week later we were doing our nightly check on our house we were having built. As we stood on the sidewalk discussing some aspect of the house we suddenly looked up to see the young family we had visited with after Mass. They were building a new house just two houses away from ours!

They then introduced us to another young family building their house across the street who happened to be members of St. Mary's as well. This was the beginning of what has been a wonderful friendship for our families. We are Godparents to one of the children, have been sponsors for Confirmation for each others' children, have gone on many vacations together, water skied, snow skied, and spent numerous hours having dinners and get-togethers. Our children are great friends and have attended school together.

We often think back on those first weeks in Albany and how grateful we are to be a part of St. Mary's Parish. St. Mary's helped us find new friends and has been an integral part of our lives. Our children have grown up involved in religious education, WCC (Whole Community Catechesis), youth group, Eucharistic ministers, acolytes, and greeters. We are truly blessed to have such a wonderful faith community!

Linda Carroll

# Our Journey of Faith

Growing in knowledge of my Catholic faith has been something that has always been a part of my life. My mother thought it was very important and even though she was a single parent, she made sure that it was a part of my life. Because of her strong commitment to Catholic education I was instilled from an early age to its importance and I have continued to value it throughout my life.

I was so proud when I was finally old enough at the age of six that I could put on my little plaid jumper and crisp white shirt that made up our school uniform and march into the Catholic grade school of St. Mary's in Medford, Oregon. After that I continued to wear my daily school uniforms through the rest of grade school and Catholic high school.

After high school I went to Marylhurst, a Catholic college. It was in college that I took the first steps to pass on this baton of faith. I volunteered to teach a CCD Summer vacation school for four summers at St. Mary's in Medford. Even though I had twelve years of Catholic education behind me at this point, I still had to study and prepare for each class. Being in charge of a class was very different than just taking up a seat in one!

I majored in Elementary Education at Marylhurst College but except for student teaching, I never taught in a regular classroom. A month after my graduation from college, Jim and I got married and immediately moved to England for three years while Jim served as an Air Force officer. When his tour in England was over we moved to California. I was happy and fortunate to be a stay at home Mom with our four children.

When we moved to Oregon from California in 1973, I volunteered to teach CCD at St. Mary's in Albany. Ellen Ketsdever was the CCD coordinator, full of enthusiasm and anxious to help every teacher with as much help and support as they needed. She had developed a simple but detailed curriculum for each grade so that every teacher knew exactly what they were expected to present. Of course real teaching has to go beyond the stated agenda and Ellen was encouraging and supportive of my efforts to make my classes as interesting and creative as possible. I was very excited that I was finally able to use the teacher preparation I had received at college.

What I found the most stimulating in the classes were the lively and amazing questions that would be asked. I started teaching when my first child was old enough to attend and continued to teach until he graduated from high school. In the younger grades I could come up with fairly good, basic and solid answers but as my children (I had four) and the other students advanced so did their questions. I found myself putting in several hours a week in preparation, planning and research to stay ahead of them. Every teacher had a volunteer aide and at least once a month we would get together for socialization and sharing of experiences and ideas.

It was definitely a commitment of time and effort but what I gained in return was invaluable. My own faith became stronger with every class, and what was of equal importance was the development of many long lasting friendships among the students.

Teaching CCD was an important part of passing on my faith not only to my own children but to many other children in the parish. I enjoyed the students who went through the program and even now I still run into many of these young adults at church. I love them and it feels so good to meet and talk with them and to know that together we continue to share our journey of faith.

Mary Kay Conser 

# Connections

This is a story about connections. Separate threads that are sewn in the tapestry of our lives marking ordinary or special events, seemingly unconnected but later weave into new events, times and places later in our lives.

My husband Mark Avery and I joined St. Mary's Parish in 1989 when I was pregnant with our first child Ashley. We enrolled in the baptism class at St. Mary's and there we met Bill and Cecilia Ortman. This was the beginning of a long friendship that continues to this day.

Ashley was baptized in the old Church. I was privileged to have both of my parents attend Ashley's baptism (a special memory, I cling to now as my father passed away this year). 1989 was also the disastrous year the Church burnt down. Thus three, very, memorable events; a move, a baptism and a fire marked our first year at St. Mary's!

Bill and Cecilia had a year old girl named Julie that Ashley later would be on the soccer team with in high school. Bill and Cecilia's new baby on its way during the baptism class, Katie, would be in the same classes with Ashley during Middle School.

I remember when our children were preparing for their First Communion; a favorite activity was making wooden crosses in the church basement. Bill Ortman had wonderful woodworking skills and he carefully instructed the children how to make simple but very beautiful wooden crosses. Ashley loved the class and made several crosses and hung them on our bedroom doorknobs. We still have several of these holy relics hanging around our house.

Our two children, Ashley and David (born later) both attended St. Mary's school. One of their favorite teachers was Sister Regina who taught third grade. In talking to her one day she told me that she remembered teaching my younger brother Bruce, at St. Paul's school when we lived in Silverton, Oregon. She especially remembered him because he had open heart surgery that year to correct a congenital heart defect and nearly died. A couple of years ago he had surgery again for the same reason and finally recovered after a rough time of it. Both times I am convinced that the prayers of Sister Regina and others played a part in his recovery.

This year, both the Ortman's Katie and our David graduated from West Albany High School, a mark of the span of time that our friendship, shared memories and connections have existed between our two families. How fast those years have flown!

It is amazing to me how the threads of our lives twine and intertwine with one another. We are all so connected.

Patricia Eich

# Sharing the Journey of Faith

On the very day St. Mary's parish was celebrating its 125th anniversary, I was hundreds of miles away in Natick, Massachusetts attending the baptism of my granddaughter, Lucy. As I continue to offer prayers for the unmapped faith journey of little Lucy, I can't help but marvel at the synchronicity of these two joyful occasions and reflect on my own faith journey at St. Mary's.

In the late seventies, my family moved to Albany and joined St. Mary's Church. My husband Marion, my daughter Heather, and I liked to sit in the front of the old Church where we absorbed the scent of aging wood and the beauty of the old altar during Mass. I can still picture the faces of the musicians and hear their voices singing. The refrains of the hymns we sang are fresh in my mind, as are the loving words of the homilies that sustained me until the following week.

Like many of you, I vividly remember the night the Church caught fire and how we held strongly together as we endured the trials and tribulations of the months following that terrible night. Now, in retrospect, I see many blessings that came from that catastrophe. It taught me what church really is, and for the first time in my life I felt I was a part of something quite meaningful. It was a great gift for me to serve on the Pastoral Council as we rebuilt our Church and strengthened our faith together.

As I reminisce about my faith journey at St. Mary's, I think about how deeply the sacraments touched my life through the years. We have a priceless picture of Heather sitting on the steps of the altar in her First Communion dress. I have a clear mental image of the day the children of the parish released purple balloons in front of the Church as a symbol of Reconciliation. And Confirmation . . . could those small children from CCD really have grown into young adults this quickly? I also lovingly remember the very private convalidation of our marriage, performed by Deacon Billy; it was his first convalidation which added to the specialness of the day. Our only guest was our daughter Heather, and I remember how the four of us were alone in our brand new church as the light beamed through the beautiful stained glass and silent stillness settled between the words of our prayers.

Sacraments and liturgy, prayers and silence—that's all one part of my faith journey. But what about the birthday parties? The donuts? The picnics by the river? St. Patrick's Day? Valentine dances? What about all that fun stuff? We weren't always saints, were we? Seems to me we ate a lot and sometimes drank a bit. I recall a time when I found myself sick after judging a chocolate baking contest. And yes, sometimes we even overindulged during Lent! Over the years, we became friends and family to each other. Now that I am three thousand miles away from St. Mary's, I realize how much we loved each other, and felt Christ's love enter our lives through these relationships.

Marion became a Catholic in the late 1990's after being part of St Mary's Parish for more than 15 years. The message at his first Reconciliation was for us to live our lives so that everyone we meet has the opportunity to know Christ through us. He did that. His faith was a wonderful example to many people. At his death, although we were a continent away, Heather and I knew that we would have a service at St. Mary's, a place that was quietly important to Marion. It was a place where we had shared love on so many levels.

I am grateful for all of this, and for memories too numerous to write. Most of all, I am thankful for all of you dear and precious people who shared my faith journey with me. St. Mary's parish is very, very dear to my heart. The prayers I am offering for the faith journey of my granddaughter, Lucy, are the same prayers that I am offering for all of you at St. Mary's in your future years: for God's love and warmth, for His protection and guidance, for His comfort and peace.

Joan Ratliff

# Second Chance

Church has always been an important part of my life, and St. Mary's holds a special place in my heart. One of our daughters was baptized here in 1960, and three of them were later married in the "old" Church.

Because of physical limitations, I am not able to participate in as many functions as I would like, so it was especially appealing to me when the Shawl Ministry was started. I thought it was something I would do at home, however, after attending one meeting I was "hooked" on them. I enjoyed hearing the shawl stories that we shared, and we learned a lot from each other.

Two of my sisters live in Washington, and for various reasons my youngest sister, Dee, and I had been estranged for many years. About three or four years ago I was visiting my middle sister, Sally, and was crocheting of course. It was nearing Dee's birthday and I told Sally I didn't know why, but I had been thinking of Dee the whole time I had been making this shawl. I decided that I wanted to give it to her for her birthday and asked Sally to deliver it when she went to Dee's house to celebrate her birthday. Sally reluctantly agreed, not sure if Dee would accept it or not. I wrapped it and put it in a bag with a note that said "Just a pile of string with no strings attached. Happy Birthday from your big Sis."

Dee accepted her gift with no comment, but two weeks later she told Sally to tell me thank you, it was nice. Several months went by and again I was visiting Sally and she called Dee and asked her to come over. Well, it took most of the day for her to decide to come, but about 4:30 she arrived. When she walked in, we stood face to face and fell into each other's arms as tears were shed. She later told me that the minute she saw me, all she wanted to do was hug me and that at that moment all our hurts and differences were washed away.

We have enjoyed and appreciated several "good years" for which we are so thankful. Both of my sisters have taken up crocheting, and we laugh together and thank God for our second chance. We never know what tomorrow brings—Dee has just been diagnosed with pre-leukemia, so now we will pray together. The Shawl Ministry and St. Mary's has and will always be special to me.

Berneice Darnell

# Best Seat in Church

It was a Saturday evening back in 1980 when Father Mel Stead was the pastor of the old Church. My then five-year-old son Matt and I headed off to the 5:30 Mass and were running a little late. When we arrived, the Church was full and parishioners were overflowing into the back lobby area. The old Church had two swinging doors that separated the lobby from the Church, and when you opened the doors there was an aisle that led straight up to the altar.

Father Stead always came down off the altar to speak to the parishioners, and that night as he was delivering his homily; my son broke loose from my grasp, burst through the two large doors, and ran up the center aisle towards the altar. Matt dashed all the way up to the first row, turned around and yelled in a loud voice, "Dad, I found us a seat, come here!"

Of course, Father Stead stopped talking and focused his attention on this five-year-old. Matt excited at finding us such a special seat, zipped back down the aisle, grabbed my hand, and started to pull me up to the front of the Church. I tried to hold on to him but again he got away from me and ran back towards the altar, pointed at the seat in the front row and yelled again, "Come on Dad, I got us a seat!"

All eyes were now focused on this little boy running up and down the middle aisle. Father Stead, unable to continue with his homily was grinning as he said, "Who brought this Protestant kid in here?"

That got quite a few laughs and when Matt came running back to me again, I grabbed him and would not let him go. I was totally embarrassed. After Father Stead was transferred to St. Anthony's in Lincoln City, he shared this story with his new congregation a few times. God bless Father Stead.

Mark Lee

# Our Faith Adventure

Harry and I began our married life together in the summer of 1968. I was not Catholic and before we could marry in the Church, we had to receive counseling from the pastor, Father Martin Doherty. I was scared because of stories I had heard about him, but quickly found out that my worries were for nothing. He was charming and very thoughtful to me as a non-Catholic, and to Harry who was also nervous. He married us on August 3, 1968 with a moving and beautiful ceremony.

Our next faith adventure was my official entry into the Church. I took lessons from Father Mike Hemming who was the assistant pastor for Father Mel Stead at the time. Harry was my sponsor and he attended the meetings with me as I learned about the Catholic faith. It was a time of significant growth and enlightenment for me, and I was welcomed as a confirmed member of the Church at St. Mary's in the spring of 1971.

Our first child, Cecelia, was baptized in 1972 by our pastor, Father Stead. Before the baptism, Father Stead gave us classes and my non-Catholic brother Louis Moody, who was to be Cecilia's godfather, asked a lot of questions. Father Stead was very funny and understanding of his inquiries.

Our second daughter, Jennifer, was baptized in the fall of 1979. This time we felt we knew what we were doing. Wrong. The baptism was during a Mass in front of the whole congregation. Sarah hid behind the altar, Cecelia almost knocked the Easter candle over, and everyone bumped into each other. There were two godmothers, one godfather, two sisters, two parents, altar boys, and one patient pastor all around the small altar at St. Mary's.

Next came First Communions and First Reconciliations. These were times of learning and growth in our faith as a family. I taught First Communion to the second graders which made it even more special. Father Mel Stead led the First Communion service for Cecelia's class, and this was to be his last celebration with us. The new pastor, Father Patrick Walsh soon began a new chapter here at St. Mary's for our family. Father Walsh gave Sarah and Jennifer their First Communion, and he presided over the Reconciliation services for all three girls. This was a time of introspection for the whole family.

Father Dan Adams, an assistant pastor to Father Walsh, was a great help to us when we were grieving the loss of my parents. The counseling we received from both of these priests gave us great comfort. Father Walsh was not only our pastor, but became a great family friend whom our children loved. He, along with Bishop Steiner, confirmed our three daughters. He was with us when Harry's mother passed away, and offered a wonderful service for her in the St. Mary's gym because it was after the fire and the new Church was not built yet.

As the years flew by, a friend of Harry's from grade school, Father John Betts, eventually came home to St. Mary's. He counseled us through sicknesses, deaths, and many celebrations in the family. Father Betts married and buried Harry's father with great celebration and love, and it is very special to us that he also married all three of our daughters to our great sons-in-law. They began their married lives with wonderful counseling from Joe Reilly and beautiful ceremonies in our new church.

Each of these pastors shared their gifts with us, and over the years we grew significantly in our devotion and love for the Church and each other. Father T is our newest pastor who is leading our parish with new enthusiasm, and his great faith renews our spirit at Mass. We are looking forward to the next chapters of our lives together at St. Mary's.

Harry & Mary Ellen Eagles

# Faith Filled Experiences

Cradle Catholic, I think is a term that would definitely apply to me. My faith was instilled into my heart and soul at baptism in Seattle some seventy years ago. When I was old enough I attended Catholic school and continued for fourteen years. The foundation that I received through the Dominican Sisters, priests and many parish activities along the way has been a wonderful opportunity for me to continue to grow in my faith and share God's love with others.

Because I was blessed with such a solid Catholic education, when the changes of Vatican II came about I could embrace them with hope and not fear. In fact, I felt a deep desire to embrace the "new" Catholic traditions with much enthusiasm.

I married my lifelong love fifty years ago. We both had the same faith, values and love of God. Of course this didn't mean we escaped having our share of struggles but our common faith and values was important in raising our three daughters in the Catholic faith. Now we are blessed that they are raising their children to know and love God in their lives.

I have been a member of at least ten Catholic parishes in my moves over the years. Each one had its own distinct character but I always felt at home and welcome the minute I stepped through the doors. This is the gift of belonging to such a universal church, the place may be different, the people may be new but the golden unity of our faith is always there. I have met many beautiful and faithful people in my parish experiences and I believe this is part of God's plan for me. I know that my faith journey is continuing to unfold.

For the last twenty four years I have been a member of St. Mary's Parish. Father Pat Walsh was our pastor when my husband and I moved to Albany and I remember with fondness the way he led the people and his wonderful homilies.

After the fire at St. Mary's there was a resurgence of faith among the parishioners as they came together to rebuild the new Church. The old Church as beautiful as it was had become too small to accommodate so many new parishioners. There was division among the people as to how to handle the situation. Should they build a new Church? Where? What about the old Church? The fire settled all of that.

Father Pat Walsh, Kathy Reilly and many volunteers had to work overtime to adjust to such a dramatic circumstance but they did a beautiful job. The result was that out of the fire we became a stronger and much more unified congregation.

Change is a factor that is always present in our lives. Churches change, priests change, parishioners change. New people come, older parishioners move or are taken to God but always we know that God is with us. I was sad to see Father Pat go. I still miss his goodness, his warm laugh, homilies and sensitivity but then we were blessed in a new way with the arrival of Father John. The last fifteen years St. Mary's has continued to grow and develop under Father Betts and Kathy Reilly in a very healthy way. As we celebrate 125 years of loving, caring people we WELCOME our new pastor, Father Andrew, who brings a beautiful and youthful spirit of enthusiasm, music, and talent to guide us, God willing through many years to come.

God loves each of us, and it is so evident in the eyes of the many that make up the community of His people here at St. Mary's!

Patty Joy

# A Volunteer Catholic

I started attending the Catholic Church with my then-boyfriend, Chris Bielenberg, in 1980. I remember going to a Mass while he was working in the summer at a pig farm and even after a shower he smelled terrible! When Chris and I got married in 1984 we chose to have the ceremony at St. Mary's here in Albany. We were fresh parishioners but knew this would be our home for many years to come. I wasn't Catholic, but had agreed with Chris to marry and raise our children in the Church.

As the years went by we had three children, Amanda, Mitchell and Katrina. We had them each baptized, had a big party after their First Communions, transported them to many years of religious education and have one more to see through Confirmation. All the while I attended St. Mary's, but was still not a real part of the Church.

I volunteered for the parish when and where I could. I was one of the ladies who brought salads for funeral luncheons, offered my home as a neighborhood-meeting site for first communion families, volunteered to transport the youth group, baked cookies for receptions, and more. It turns out that this was the path God chose to bring me into His Church.

I said 'yes' to a big volunteer job helping to raise needed-money by selling items from the bed-and-breakfast that St. Mary's purchased. I had the privilege to work along-side Sharon Konopa and several other wonderful women who are strong leaders in our parish. One day as we priced items to sell, I mentioned that I didn't always attend Mass with my family because it felt like being invited to someone's home for dinner, but not allowed to eat. I got tears in my eyes as I said it because I had been feeling very lost about my faith and my future. Sharon could have patted me on the back and went on with her full schedule, but instead, she felt moved to take action on my behalf. She called Kathy Reilly, and from there I was quickly put into the group of upcoming catechumens.

So, after thirty years attending the Roman Catholic Church, I found myself surrounded by love and welcome at Easter vigil as I was baptized, received my first Eucharist, and confirmed with—my sponsor, Sharon, by my side.

I was brought into the Church through the strong faithful women of our parish and through volunteerism. I thank Him for blessing me with this opportunity every week as I attend Mass at St. Mary's. It is still a novel surprise to me to be able to stand and walk up to receive the Eucharist with my family after so many years sitting alone in the pew.

Praises to the women of St. Mary's!

Pam Bielenberg 

# We have to Pray

My husband and I came to Albany from Upland, California a year after we were married. Bob had been raised as a Christian Scientist but wasn't sold on it. He enjoyed going to Mass with me on Sundays, but because he had been in a previous marriage, we were not married in the Church.

After a couple of years of faithfully going to Mass, Bob decided he wanted to become Catholic and started taking one-on-one classes with our pastor, Father Mel Stead. On May 21, 1981 (the day Mt. St. Helen's erupted) he was baptized. I don't imagine the eruption had anything to do with Bob being baptized, but it did make for a very memorable day!

When our son David was five years old, he started going to St. Mary's school. He loved it and was always happy to be there with the teacher and his many friends. It was like a second home for him. On the day the Church burned down, my son and I were at home and my husband was at work. Bob called to tell me the terrible news about the fire. I couldn't believe it. Little David was listening to our phone conversation, and he started getting more and more alarmed. The two of us ran outside and even though we were miles away from the fire, we could see the flames and smoke billowing up in great clouds in the evening sky. David tugged at my sleeve and told me emphatically, "We have to pray!"

We went into the house, got down on our knees and prayed. Later when Bob came home, the three of us got into the car and drove to the Church to assure David that his school was still okay.

We had two more wonderful children, Kristyn and Chloe, who were also baptized at St. Mary's and went to school there. Having our children in a Catholic school was one of the best decisions we have ever made. Not only did it give them a wonderful, faith filled education, but St. Mary's school and parish became an important part of our own faith and social life as well.

As part of the tuition obligation in sending a child to school at St. Mary's, parents had to volunteer 36 hours a year. We, like many others, got so involved with the life and happenings of the school that by the end of the year we could say with complete honesty that we had probably volunteered about 2500 hours! The parish and school became an integral part of our family in many ways.

The love and support we have received from being part of this faith community is unbelievable. They have been there for us in all our times of joy and sorrow, ups and downs, financial difficulties, sickness, tragedies and blessings. Over the years we did as much as we could to give back in a reciprocal fashion. I was president of the Parents Teachers Association, and then for four years Bob and I teamed together to co-chair the school auction. This was a huge job and it became even scarier the year I took the top position as chair. Truthfully, for me that job was horrendous. I think anyone who takes that job is a saint! Really. There are so many committees to oversee, people to fit into different positions, jobs to watch over, deadlines to meet, and lots of details that are easy to overlook or forget if one is not completely keeping up with it with every day. I often felt like an amateur juggler who was given too many balls to keep up in the air. In the end I just prayed and did the best I could. Somehow it all seemed to work out.

My husband now has kidney disease and the Church continues to be there for us in many ways. The pastors, Kathy Reilly, and the parishioners are a big part of our family. Kathy is an angel. Father Andrew (Father T) is a cool guy. I don't know what we would do without them. St. Mary's is the best Church in the whole world!

Linda Burroughs

# Roamin Catholic

Like so many present day Catholics, I have been a member of quite a few parishes.

Unlike my parents who might have belonged at most to four parishes during their lifetime, my generation has been much more mobile. My parents were baptized, received first Eucharist and were confirmed in one parish (Assumption for Mom and St. Raphael for Dad) and were married and buried at another (St. Francis).

In contrast, I was baptized at St. Francis, received first Eucharist at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament, was confirmed at Holy Spirit and married at San Damiano. Along the way, I regularly participated at St. Ignatius, another St. Mary, Immaculate Conception and St. Anthony.

Each parish seemed to meet my spiritual needs for where I was at the moment. As my faith grew and evolved, there were times when my parish of residence didn't meet my spiritual needs, whereupon I roamed to a neighboring parish.

This notably resulted in roamin from a parish with mainly older parishioners to a parish with younger members when my children were young and to a parish that outreached to the broken and disenfranchised when my life was in upheaval. Shirley had her Sacraments of Initiation at the same parish (Sacred Heart) but roamed because of changes in residence to St. Leo, Our Lady of Grace, All Hallows, St. Anne and St. Francis before our move to Oregon.

When Shirley and I decided to migrate to Oregon in 2000, we had concerns about the flavor of the Catholic community in Albany. For one thing, roamin to a neighboring parish would entail considerable travel as parishes are some distance apart unlike the few miles of the metropolitan area from which we relocated.

The parish we were leaving was noted for its ministries to the poor, those out of the mainstream, the substance abuser, those existing on the margins of society. Its parishioners embraced the tenets of Catholic social teaching and we wanted our new parish to be similarly inclined.

We did not want it to just be a place to worship one hour of one day a week. Our concern should have evaporated as soon as we saw the welcoming statue of Mary but, as with anything new, it took awhile for us to decide that St. Mary's in Albany was home.

We rented an apartment in Albany while the century-old farmhouse on the property we purchased east of Lebanon was being renovated. Attending St. Mary's was initially an interim measure while the house was being renovated but weeks turned into months and it would be a full year before we would be able to move out to the farm.

Meanwhile, the Spirit was at work. Shirley had not been working since we left California but had been looking for employment. One Sunday Bulletin in the spring of 2001 indicated that the parish was looking for a part-time Secretary to assist Rosanne Wilson. Shirley applied and was hired. This part-time job morphed into the office manager position and it just made more sense to continue to worship at St Mary's rather than roamin over to St. Edward.

When Vatican II invited the laity to proclaim the First and Second Readings, I volunteered at whatever parish I was regularly attending. Since we had decided to make St. Mary's our spiritual home, I volunteered to serve as a lector.

I recently realized that I am approaching a half a century of proclaiming the Word! Volunteering is almost instinctive with me. I also facilitate adult catechesis and help with St. Mary's landscaping. Shirley, in addition to her duties as Parish secretary, volunteers in the bereavement ministry and prepares baptismal garments.

For these roamin Catholics, being Catholic is not the building where we worship, but a philosophy of life. We have been particularly moved and motivated by two Bible verses James 2:14-26 where he talks about faith without works being useless (so volunteering for various projects is a natural). And by Micah 6:8 'This is what God asks of you, only this: to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.'

These Catholics are done roamin for the foreseeable future and will continue to walk with their God within the community of St. Mary's in Albany, Oregon.

Joseph Holmberg

# New Sense of Unity

Some of the most vivid memories I have from St. Mary's go back to 1989 when the Church burned down. That was the same year my father, Clair Evers, passed away. The night of the fire I was on my way home from taking my mom, Marie Evers, to Arizona for the winter. When I reached Las Vegas, I decided to call home. Normally I would not have done that. There was no reason for me to call, but for some reason I felt compelled to do so. My husband, Jack, answered the phone and the first words out of his mouth were that the Church was burning down.

My immediate response was, "Oh my God, where are the boys?" My son Chris and his friend Patrick worked as janitors at the church. I was overcome with intense fear because they were scheduled to do some major cleaning that night. Jack quickly reassured me that the boys were safe. Hearing about the raging fire was an unbelievable, surreal moment. It was the only thing I could think of the rest of the way home.

The fire was a nightmare for our entire community. Everyone was horrified. I have lived in Albany a good long time and have rarely seen the people as unified as they were in the wake of that devastating fire.

One of the many, many good things that came from the fire was the new sense of unity it brought to our parish. At the time of the fire, we were in the process of raising funds to build a much larger church because we had outgrown the original one. It was a very hard time because everyone was attached to the old Church and some parishioners did not want a new one. It was splitting us into factions, which was becoming increasingly unhealthy. In my opinion I feel that maybe God allowed the fire because we had become too hung up on the building and had forgotten who we were as a parish.

For the next few years our parish gathered together and celebrated Masses in many different locations while we were rebuilding our Church. Throughout the process, we always knew we were St. Mary's family. Losing the church was a great loss, but it was also a great learning experience. One of the biggest lessons we learned was that the Church is truly the people and not the building.

In June of 1992, our new church was completed. With a lot of planning and care, we had successfully incorporated some of our favorite things about the old church into the new building. For example, we kept it as a wooden Church because wood has warmth that other building materials don't have and we also kept the arches on the windows.

Building the new Church was kind of like when Moses led the people through the desert. As Father Pat said in one of his sermons, we traveled through many deserts as we rebuilt our church. We moved from place to place during that time, celebrating Mass at the Christian Church, at LBCC (Linn Benton Community College), at Memorial Middle School, at the Pentecostal Church and at St. Sears (the old Sears store) where we celebrated Christmas Mass shortly before we moved into the gymnasium of the new church complex. Our son Christopher and his wife made St. Mary's history when their wedding was the first one in the new Church.

I thank God for our entire St. Mary's Church family. I am thankful for the Knights of Columbus and the Catholic Daughters, as well as all of the other groups and services in our parish. I thank God that we have the school and all of the blessings that come from it. I am also grateful for the Catholic Daughter gift shop that sells Catholic items. The next nearest shop is more than a half an hour away in Salem, and I am very proud that we have one in our community. My family is very thankful to be a part of this wonderful community. God has blessed us powerfully.

Dorothy and Jack Gall

# Preparing for Easter

A few months after we moved here, we were in the season of Lent. The Reconciliation service occurred when we had out of town visitors and could not attend. My daughter, Meredith was very concerned about this and kept saying that she wanted to do Reconciliation before Easter.

I called the Church office to see if anything could be arranged with Father Betts. They were very nice but reminded me that as it was almost Easter it was a very busy time. I told Meredith that I had tried my best but was not sure if it would happen.

We were so happy when the next day we got a phone call from Father Betts. He did not let us down and graciously said that he would meet us after school. He took all the kids and me over to the Church and did Reconciliation for everyone who was old enough. Then he went and got bottles to give each of the kids holy water.

The kids still treasure the holy water and refill it when empty. They use it often to bless themselves and others and to ward off bad dreams. We felt so blessed that Father Betts fit us into his busy schedule. He left a lasting and positive impression on us all.

Maureen Graham

# Spiritual Growth

My husband and I had a beautiful daughter, Holli, and we desperately wanted a baby brother or sister for her. After several heartbreaking and difficult miscarriages, we were blessed with another very healthy daughter, Sarah. During this progression of time, I decided to join the Catholic Church and the St. Mary's family. My faith has increased dramatically since then, and I owe my new found faith and spiritual growth to the Lord our Father. He protected me through the miscarriages, guided me to join the Church, and completed our beautiful family. It is clear that He was definitely working in our lives.

We now have a grandson, Josh, whose parents belong to an Evangelical Church. One day when he was three years old, Josh went to Mass with us. He wasn't familiar with the vestments of a Catholic priest, and when Father John walked down the aisle in the opening procession, Josh said loudly, "Look, there goes Jesus!" Needless to say, Father John and the parishioners sitting near us laughed when they heard him say that!

We are so thankful for the spirituality and guidance that the Lord gives us each day and for the fellowship of St. Mary's family.

Norm & Sandy Jager

# East to West

Sixteen years ago, the arms of the Blessed Mother in Albany, Oregon flung open wide and welcomed eight new members to her flock. Weary from having driven all the way from the East Coast, we were anxious about setting down new roots in this strange and foreign state on the other side" of God's country. We had moved, (thanks to Uncle Sam) from our comfort zone of friends, family, school, work and church communities in Fayetteville, North Carolina to start a new life in Albany. We had left a close knit marriage encounter community but had faith that God knew what He was doing and would continue to take care of us.

Once we arrived and found a place to live, we ventured to find a good Catholic Church in which to raise our children. As we drove through the beautiful and quaint town of Albany we caught sight of Mary, a beautiful statue that stands with wide welcoming arms of greeting to all who pass by. We decided to take up Mary's invitation and explore this parish of St. Mary's.

When we arrived for our first Sunday Mass we were welcomed by another sweet, petite woman, who introduced herself to us as Margaret Conser. We fell in love with her engaging smile and were hooked.

During the sixteen years we have been at St. Mary's, our children: Jennifer, Nina, Jon, Frank, Mike and Matt were spiritually nurtured and accepted by all and grew into wonderful adults. My sweet husband, Jon, and I continued on our faith journey as well. We became involved with Marriage Prep and the LEM (Lay Ecclesial Ministers) program. Now we serve with joy on our Pastoral Council and want to give back to others on their own journey.

Terri Keefer

# Master of Ceremony

When our son, Tim Lilley was 12 years old, Father Pat Walsh told him of his plan to start having a Master of Ceremony for Mass. He asked Tim if he would be willing to be one and explained what he would be expected to do. Tim was excited and honored. Of course he said yes. He was the first Master of Ceremony for St. Mary's Church in Albany.

Our children attended St. Mary's school. When our daughter Clarice was in 5th grade, she and her friend Kaycee Benek asked Father Stead if they could be altar servers. He suggested they write to the bishop. They wrote to the bishop and his answer was that girls were not permitted to be servers. We are glad that the ruling on that has changed.

When our son Ryan was a server, he frequently served when his brother Tim was a Master of Ceremony, Ryan fondly remembers serving for Father Pat Walsh and for Father Dan Adams. He said they would turn their microphones off when they were washing their hands during the Mass. They would then proceed to say something to make them laugh—"Don't forget the wine next time" or "I saw you dozing of."

Our daughter, Clarice has good memories of her favorite teacher, Kathy Reilly, taking them to the old Church and teaching their religion classes.

Larry & Carol Lilley

# The Swimming Class

I became a member of St. Mary's in the early sixties and continued until my husband and I retired and we moved to the coast for ten years. Three years ago we moved back. This second time around with St. Mary's has become much more of a faith experience for me, all because of a swimming class I took about a year and a half after we moved back. At the class I met a lady who was also a member of St. Mary's. She invited me to come to the Faith Sharing Group she belonged to.

This Faith Sharing Group is not big, sometimes only four or five people will be there – but it has deepened not only my life with God but opened up some wonderful friendships for me. We meet once a week at a small coffee house called Boccherini's at seven o'clock in the morning.

I think how blessed my faith life has deepened because of that simple invitation at a swimming class.

Margaret Maier

# God Sightings

If you've ever doubted that God is at work in the world, you should visit or participate in the VBS (Vacation Bible School) that has been happening at St. Mary's each summer for the last five years.

Although each VBS has had a different theme, each morning the children have been encouraged to report a "God sighting" they have witnessed in the last day. Preschoolers through fifth graders share stories of sighting God in people acting as Jesus would, comforting others by giving hugs of encouragement, praying for others' needs, and helping others by sharing their goods and/or time.

I have been involved as a station leader for this program four out of the five years and I would like to report some of the numerous "God sightings" I have observed in the middle school, high school and adult volunteers that have made VBS possible. Each of them sharing their talents and faith.

Each year these volunteers radiate God's love by the tender manner in which they treat each child. They share by singing and doing the motions for VBS songs, acting out Scriptures and skits, helping the children to learn the daily Bible verse, playing games, taking pictures, doing crafts, preparing snacks, painting backdrops and signs, setting up and taking down displays, ironing VBS logos on shirts, and using computers, CD players, and DVD players at the different stations.

Who are these volunteers? Many of the high school and middle school helpers were participants in VBS when they were younger. Some of the adults have children and/or grandchildren who are participants in VBS. Others have no tie to the program, but feel called to help. By sharing their faith, time and talents, each of them gives back, encouraging the gift of faith they have received to grow in others. St. Mary's is blessed by the presence of God's Spirit in these volunteers.

Peggy McDowell

# Faith Memories

Hi, I'm Florentine Metz. My family and I have been in Albany since the fall of 1961. Our youngest daughter, Dana was born in Albany and baptized at St. Mary's Church in January 1962.

Our daughters, Lynette, Marlene and Dana attended religious classes at St. Mary's. They made their First Communions at St. Mary's. Shirleen made her First Communion in Lebanon, Oregon.

When Marlene was 14 years old, she died of a wrongful death on February 7, 1970. Marlene's funeral was held at St. Mary's in February 1970. A very sad time for all of us.

Dana's wedding was held at St. Mary's, in the old beautiful Church. She married Dave Roth on August 19, 1983, the church was packed. I lost my husband, Steve J. Metz, October 1993. The funeral was held at St. Mary's new Church.

Florentine Metz 

# Passing on the Faith

I grew up in a Catholic family and throughout the years most of us stopped going to church consistently. Then, when I became an adult and had my own children, I realized that my morals and values were based on my religious beliefs. I knew that having my girls baptized in a Catholic Church and exposing them to our religion could do them nothing but good.

I am grateful that I have introduced my girls to the religious experiences I had when I was growing up, and hope they gain the morals and values that were instilled in me when I was young.

Chantelle Schaumburg

# Catholic Daughters

The Catholic Daughters of the Americas Court 1461

The women of St. Mary's Church gathered together in 1948 to bring the national Catholic Daughters of the Americas (CDA) organization to our parish. More than sixty years later our group is going strong, united by our faith in Jesus Christ, our devotion to Mary, our Church, and the Holy See. We are always ready and eager to be helping hands wherever there is a need in our parish and beyond.

Over the years we have been a part of numerous projects at the organization's national level. We participated in Father Peyton's rosary drive, and in the Habitat for Humanity home building ministry. On the state level we continue to support our religious, seminarians and the National Shrine Grotto in Portland. On the local level, we support the church school, CCD programs, and the playground. We plan many fundraisers each year to support the charities we are involved with. We host bake sales, beautiful handmade flower arrangement sales, "used treasures" and estate sales, and even dabble with fashion shows to raise money.

CDA is made up of women of various ages and interests who have one common purpose: to serve as we can. Many of our members are also active in other ministries within the Church, serving as Eucharistic ministers, readers, and choir members. Some of us take part in Eucharistic adoration, visit the sick and homebound, and assist with funeral luncheons with the bereavement committee.

Our members enjoy being part of St. Mary's celebrations and through the years we have been involved in activities such as serving refreshments at receptions, preparing turkey, lasagna, or spaghetti dinners for the parish, and calling out numbers at bingo. After our Church burned, CDA coordinated a huge garage sale fundraiser at "St. Sears" where Masses were being offered after the fire.

A Catholic gift shop was opened by our parish CDA group and is managed by members at least once a month. In the past we sponsored a Junior Catholic Daughters of the Americas group and we hope to reinstitute that spiritual program for young girls again soon. We strive to be true sisters in Christ.

Our Mission Statement:

The purposes of the organization are to participate in the religious, charitable and educational Apostolate of the Church. Catholic Daughters of the Americas engage in creative and spiritual programs which provide its members with the opportunity to develop their special God-given talents in a meaningful way to positively influence the welfare of the Church and all peoples throughout the world. Catholic Daughters of the Americas strives to embrace the principle of faith working through love in the promotion of justice, equality and the advancement of human rights and human dignity for all.

Fran Pace

# The Birthday Group

I belong to a group at St. Mary's that began many years ago when a few friends got together to celebrate the New Year. Our night of fun quickly evolved into a once a month get-together to celebrate birthdays that had occurred during that month. Simple enough, right? What we didn't know back then was that this group would become a tight-knit family, complete with all the shared joys and sorrows of a real family.

The power of a faithful few becomes easily apparent when we pray together. One of the first times we came together to pray was at the bedside of a dying friend. We were there to comfort and support our friend, her family and ourselves. Since that time we have helped each other through tragedies, celebrated great joys together, and continue to be for each other as our grandchildren, fill our lives with new hope and challenges. No matter how busy we seem to be, or how caught up in the moment we are, when we come together in unity, we feel the presence of Jesus. Through our friendships we have come to understand that it is relationships and people that are the true Church.

Anne Peltier

# Answered Prayer

On Dec 14, 2006 at 7:30 pm, a windstorm with a scary sounding 80 mph gust blew down a tall fir tree next to my manufactured home in Salem. I jumped out of my chair and said, "Dear Jesus, send your angels to protect us!"

My adult nephew was staying with me and I asked him if there was any damage in his room. He said there wasn't, so I walked out to the back deck into the now 60 mph winds looking for damage. It was too dark to see anything but as I was standing there peering into the darkness, I had the thought to put my cross necklace on. I had removed it that day and was wearing a pin that said, "Keep Christ in Christmas," because I had attended a party that afternoon. I turned around and went back inside to put my cross on.

I went into the house, closed the sliding glass door and walked around to the end of my bed and BOOM! Another tree fell down, across the entire 56 foot length of my home. The top of the tree broke off in the front yard. Huge tree limbs protruded through the ceiling, and the rain started to pour into the house. The deck where I had been minutes before was now covered with branches. To this day, I believe angels held that second tree up until I got off the deck before it crashed.

God works in mysterious ways. I had been praying for a way to move closer to my children and grandchildren, and this destructive storm became the answer to that prayer. I moved to Albany and St. Mary's has become an added blessing to my life. When I shared my story with Father Betts he talked about it at the 11:00 Christmas Mass and added, "If anything ever happens, I want to be standing next to Martha!"

Martha Rhinehart

# The Old and the New

My first recollection of St. Mary's is when my new bride, Barbara, and I moved to Albany in 1960. The old Church was warm and inviting, even though Father Doherty was a bit foreboding. We enjoyed the light playing through the colorful stained glass windows making wonderful patterns on the carpet. It was common for us to arrive late at Mass when our kids were young, and we'd have to stand out in the vestibule due to the bulging attendance in the small Church. Occasionally, we would walk up the winding staircase to the balcony, where we would join other latecomers and sit next to the church organ.

It was in this church where our three kids, Suzanne, Ted and Tom, were baptized, received their First Communion and were confirmed. We loved it here. Barbara was active in Catholic Daughters and served on the Parish Council for a time.

One evening, as we were attending an OSU basketball game at Gill Coliseum, we heard the fire alarms sounding. A murmur passed through the crowd that St. Mary's Church had caught on fire and was burning to the ground. We rushed from the arena to Albany but all that could be seen of our beautiful Church were the smoking remains. We were warned to keep away because of the danger. For us, it was a day to remember, similiar to those terrible moments when President Kennedy was assassinated, and the Twin Towers were destroyed. For weeks after the fire, it seemed as though the entire community mourned our loss. The cyclone fence surrounding the devastation was populated with flowers and notes of condolence.

Father Pat Walsh was strong throughout the efforts to rebuild our Church. We met for a while at Linn Benton Community College and then the old Sears Roebuck Store (St. Sears, we called it) until the Church was rebuilt. As expected, the new church has many nice features, it's larger and more comfortable and no posts obstruct our view of the altar, but it doesn't have the ambiance, the stained glass windows or the beautiful statuary of the original St. Mary's.

As time passed, our kids left home to go to college, find jobs, get married and have their own families. Occasionally, they would come home and go to the new church with us. Then in March, 2001 Barbara became ill with leukemia, and after many trips to OHSU and doses of chemotherapy, she passed away. The new church was the location of her funeral on October 25, 2001. A full house of parishioners, family and friends came to say goodbye. Mass was said by the Archbishop and by her brother, Monsignor Charles Lienert. We had been married just over 41 years at that time.

I have since remarried. My new wife, Garyanna, and I enjoy Mass at St. Mary's as life continues. It's been a blessing for all of us, both then and now.

Robert Stalick, Phd

# Angels Without Wings

I believe in angels that walk among us. Most of us call them friends. They help when we are at our lowest and most desperate. We have many that belong to St. Mary's.

When our daughter Casey was two years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. At age four, while still under treatment, she relapsed. We were told the leukemia had gone through the brain stem into the optic nerve and detached her retina. Treatment included having her eye removed and a bone marrow transplant.

The nurses called Casey their little angel because she went through all of this with unbelievable ease. Each day we prepared ourselves to see our little girl at death's door and instead were blessed with a big grin, saying "What are we going to do today? Puzzles or paint by numbers?" We had hundreds of people praying for Casey and she was living proof that prayer works.

St. Mary's used to put on wonderful Halloween Carnivals. There were games, raffles, food, a haunted house and all kinds of fun. My kids loved going to the St. Mary's Carnival even more than trick or treating. And trick or treating was high on their list. At the carnival, the children could win prizes through different activities or they could purchase raffle tickets for the biggest and best items.

Casey purchased only one raffle ticket and placed it in the drawing for an American Girl Doll. She, as many children at the carnival, dreamed of winning this doll. But Casey not only dreamt of winning, she knew for a fact she was going to win that doll.

The party started around 5 PM and by 8 PM, the kids were still going strong but the parents were ready to drop. I was one of them. I kept trying to talk Erin and Casey into leaving. Casey, dressed as a little red devil , kept coming up with one excuse after another to stay. She was determined to make it to the end when the drawing for the doll would take place. I had been watching children and their parents buy $20 worth of raffle tickets at a time and felt pretty sure we could risk leaving with those odds.

Finally the time arrived for the drawings. There were many prizes to be awarded before the grand finale (the doll) was given away. I used my best math skills to explain to Casey the odds of her one ticket being drawn. We waited patiently while Casey continued to gaze lovingly at the doll. Finally the evening came to a close. Casey watched with huge eyes as a hand went into the jar with hundreds, if not thousands of raffle tickets, and one was drawn. They called out the number. I was already herding the girls toward the car when I heard a scream, "I told you I would win! You didn't believe hard enough but I never doubted it for a minute!"

Yes, I should have known better. Who was I to question the strength of her faith?

One of the bleakest days of my life was on Good Friday in 1997. That was the day our ten year old daughter, Casey, went to join Jesus. Her battle had been on again, off again for eight years. She was at home and hospice had informed us she would not live much longer. Our family was so overcome with grief we could hardly help each other. We asked Ellen Ketsdever, Director of Religious Ed at St. Marys and one of Casey's dearest supporters, if she would like to come to say goodbye. She didn't hesitate. Ellen not only brought Communion, she saw what each of us needed. She stayed with us the entire day and took her turn sitting by Casey's bedside to read her favorite "Winnie the Pooh." Ellen spent time with our oldest daughter Erin, who was thirteen at the time. She held me. She spoke with Bob. Her presence provided our family with unconditional love and support. I will forever be grateful for her presence and love.

Shortly after Casey passed on, even though it was Good Friday, Father Betts made the time to come and bless Casey and pray with us. Through the days that followed her death, the entire staff and congregation continued to ask God to bless our family with his grace. I truly believe that angels come without wings and we are blessed to have many at St. Mary's.

Pam Weiler

# Simple Reflection

We transferred to St. Mary's in Albany in 2001 when Larry became the Facilities Manager for the parish. In that time we have watched St. Mary's grow each year in the amount of young people involved in attending the school and getting involved in youth programs. Membership in the parish continues to grow each year. We have truly enjoyed being a part of this dynamic parish.

Larry and Beatrice Beary

# Reaching Out, Lifted Me Up

When I arrived in Albany, nine years ago, I knew no one. My husband had had serious surgery (fully recovered now) but life was very uncertain. Then I discovered the Prayer Shawl Ministry and things got dramatically better.

Although I have lost count, I believe I have made over 150 shawls and the response from the recipients has been terrific. These shawls have made numerous people happier and given them some comfort in their difficult times.

But the really wonderful thing for me is the company of the great women who also knit the shawls. In the beginning there were only six or seven of us and now there are over twenty. We enjoy each other so much and even get some work done now and then. My nine years in Albany and St. Mary's parish have helped me cope with the loneliness and rounded out my life.

Lorraine Schroeder

# Beginning Eucharistic Adoration

About eight years ago a friend suggested that I start Eucharistic adoration at St. Mary's. I was excited about the idea, but had no idea where to begin. I started praying about it and began gathering information from other churches that had adoration and had been successful at keeping it going.

I contacted a lady from a church in Salem, and a man by the name of Tim Hennessey who helped start Eucharistic adoration at his church in Corvallis. They were very helpful and encouraging as they shared their experiences, knowledge, and materials with me. Once I had a good idea of how to start it, I went to see Father Betts and presented him with the idea. He was willing to give it a try, so we decided to start with four hours on Fridays from noon until four o'clock.

We needed at least two people for each hour, so my first task was to find eight people who could commit to the time slots. I got on the phone and started calling people, and it wasn't long before the times were filled. That was so exciting! We started out as a small group, but through word of mouth and some notices in the bulletin, more people joined in and it kept growing.

After a while enough people were interested that we were able to extend it two more hours to six o'clock. I created a list of people who I called every week to see what hours they could come, and then made a schedule. Although we only needed two people per hour, we often had as many as eight or more who signed up.

A few years ago the school children started coming to adoration in small groups. They would stay for 15 minutes and most of them seemed to enjoy it. Sometimes they were a little distracting, but we considered having the children there as another exciting step forward so we did our best to encourage them to keep coming.

Now there are three of us to do the calling every week to schedule people for adoration. I am grateful that Jackie Hannigan and Theresa Krake each take a block of time that they are in charge of filling. On a lot of Fridays as many as sixty people come for adoration. When someone new comes and they experience how peaceful, prayerful, and renewing it is, they often return every week. They enjoy having quiet time before the Lord as they pray in whatever way fits them best at the time. Some of the unscheduled people come for five or ten minutes, and some stay for the whole hour. Oftentimes I find myself staying for two hours and when I leave I don't know where the time went.

My faith has definitely deepened since starting Eucharistic adoration at St. Mary's. Being with Jesus at adoration is very different from praying at home, taking a walk, or praying anywhere else. During adoration, I know that Jesus is truly present and I feel His presence in a way that is very real but hard to explain. When I come before Him feeling stressed or worried, these feelings slip away after praying quietly for a while. My confidence that God is taking care of my troubles is renewed. I leave with a sense of peace that I get in no other way.

The Spanish community at St. Mary's is starting to take part in Eucharistic adoration, and we love that. When people of different languages pray side by side at adoration, it's a wonderful and powerful way for us to worship together. The invitation to come and spend some quiet time before the Lord is always open to everyone. Come join us any Friday of the year from noon until six o'clock.

Caroline Trujillo

# Shared Memories

To get this story I went to the home of Jim and Bonnie Moore with a small digital recorder. It's a fun story and it bounces back and forth while they share their story of fifty three years at St. Mary's in Albany, Oregon. Every so often I throw in a question, so I include that as well.

Jim: I came to Albany in 1957 after I was discharged from the Navy and have been a member of St. Mary's since then. Reason I came was I had family here; four of my sisters were here at different times in the 30's. I also had two aunts and two uncles: John & Nell Moore and George & Margaret Michele, who had moved here about that time.

One of my cousin's was a Paulist Father, Father Robert Michele, and he said his first Mass in the old church. There were two priests at that time living in the rectory with a housekeeper, Father Doherty and Father Anthony.

They didn't have money like they do have now... they always had a project going on to make money. We made cake doughnuts in the basement and served them after Mass in the 50's. I got involved with that right away, making the doughnuts... we made them every Sunday, six at a time with an electric cooker. And we put frosting on them. Only the men made the doughnuts. I remember working along with Doc Isom & Steve Coyle and others.

We also were part of a team that went door to door to get members of the parish to commit to supporting the Church. That started with Father Doherty through Father Stead for a period of about twenty some years. We went door to door talking to parishioners to ask them to be part of stewardship.

During this time I met my wife Bonnie and we got married in 1964 and then we did it together. Bonnie was a convert and she had three children and we had one together.

Bonnie: Took us eight months to get our marriage approved. I was never baptized until I met Jim and then my oldest boy, Monty, and I were baptized together and it was wonderful.

Father Doherty gave me instructions in the faith and we filled out all the paper work to get our marriage blessed. We had to wait for approval because I had been married before and my husband was still living. But I hadn't been married in a church for my first marriage, just a house, and of course I wasn't baptized. By me not being married in a church or baptized it made it a lot easier than others to get approval in the same situation.

Jim adopted my three children.

Jim: Back to the stewardship—It wasn't that easy, because some of the people did not want us coming to their house. So there were good experiences and bad ones of course in going to talk to people about money.

Question: What did you talk to them about?

Jim: Just to commit something to give to the Church. Now of course they don't do that, but sometimes I think it might not be such a bad idea.

Question: How hard was it to do that?

Jim: It was not easy. Some of the people recognized you and knew that you eventually would be coming – but other people – the ones not coming every Sunday to church-- they were probably the harder ones to talk to.

Bonnie: Well, we did have one who shut the door in our face and we never did get in there.

Question: So did you have a group that kept you pepped up?

Jim: Oh yeah – the church had a professional come in to talk to us about it and the people that were involved in it, there were half a dozen families or so.

Bonnie: And we knew that we were doing it for the good of the Church—for the people—so it wasn't that bad—but it was still difficult.

Jim: Bonnie and I were married in the old Church and Bonnie and all the kids were baptized in the old Church and two kids married in the old Church and the youngest one was married in the new Church.

Question: How was it for you when the Church burned down?

Jim: We lived in North Albany. I worked for the fire department but I was retired then and I don't remember who called us, but somebody called us and said the Church was on fire—we were only just across the bridge and I went down there and then Bonnie. . . .

Bonnie: Yes, the girls and I went down—and our picture was in the paper watching it burn – the kids were crying on my shoulder...

Jim: I knew it would burn if it ever got going—because it was all wood—and it was varnished and everything . . .

Bonnie: The Church is really important to me and my kids.

Jim: Have you seen all of the pictures of the priests—in the main office—can't remember the priest's names when my aunt and uncle came—before Father Dougherty . . .

Bonnie: What a nice priest.

Jim: That was when they didn't change priests—they stayed till they retired or couldn't work anymore—but they do have pictures.

Bonnie: Our second boy went to St Mary's in the old school—got a couple of furniture pieces that the sisters sold when they left...

Jim: The nuns lived upstairs and the school was down below. Originally they had the Indian kids who came and lived there—boarding school for the kids who came out of Alaska. They had at least four nuns to start with—Sister Blanche, Marietta...when school first started they were all nuns—then down to only two or three when they tore the building down.

Bonnie: Our youngest boy went to Mount Angel—was considering priesthood—but found a girl and got married. Went in the Navy—still going to church—wonderful husband and dad...

Jim: I spent two terms on the Pastoral Council, one with Father Stead and one under Father Pat.

Question: What were some of the main issues you had to work under?

Jim: Basically just programs—to get people involved in programs—come a long ways from the time they first started the councils—Vatican II brought that out—where each parish had a Pastoral Council—think I was probably on one of the first councils.

Question: How many on the council?

Jim: Had six at that time on the council but about eight now.

Statement: The Church seems like a very active church.

Bonnie: It is—a very active church. Wonderful priests—when Father Stead was here—they had an assistant for eight or nine years—then most of them would move on and get their own parish.

Kathy has done a wonderful job as always—so good—so good—sorry about Father John being sick—sad—he was good too.

I bought our family Bible from Father John when he was going to school at Mount Angel— he just signed it for me—at his going away party. I love it.

I was a hairdresser and I knew Father John's mom and his grandmother.

Question: Did your kids all go to Catholic schools?

Bonnie: No, the boy who went to Mount Angel—he went through the sixth grade which is what they had at the time—and our one daughter started there and we ended up putting her in public school—Dan was going to Mount Angel at the time—and I was working at the time—the school was only a block from our house and it just seemed easier to go to the public school. I had a beauty shop at home—and I could be there when they came home.

Jim: Before the new Church was built we were in three or four different places. Our youngest grandson was baptized in the old Sear's building by Father Pat Walsh—we have five granddaughters and one grandson....

Jim: One of the other things—when they moved the rectory—we got one piece of furniture—before they moved the rectory—to where it is at now—they sold all the stuff in the house—because they were getting a new priest—we got a nice kitchen rolling serving cart—metal—got some things out of the nuns' house—they sold all the furniture before they moved out

Bonnie: I took off about nine coats of white paint—no, wasn't all white—there was some pink...

Jim: Table from Father Doherty.

Bonnie: And the Cross—he was the one who married us.

Eight months in instruction plus waiting before marriage was blessed. The whole process—had to go to my ex in-laws and my Mom and Dad—I was the only one in the family who hadn't been baptized—We went to a Pentecostal church—all my sisters—I went to Sunday school all my life—in fact I was teaching at the First Christian Bible school when I met Jim....

But there was something about going to the Pentecostal church when I was a little girl, because I was afraid, it scared me—the people were kind of loud and raised their hands—did their hollering—and I was the only one who was afraid—and my mom never made me—but my son and I were getting ready to be baptized in the First Christian Church.

And then came Jim—and the reason I thought it was important was that he would come out—for Sunday dinner, but it would be after he went to church. My first husband never went to church—so I didn't know what it was like—so I thought he must be pretty special—because he had never been married and he goes to church. There aren't very many around like that—joining the Catholic Church seemed like a very good deal . . .

Bonnie: Jim belonged to the Knights of Columbus—they had sing-a-longs—but they sort of just faded away.

When I was younger I helped with the Grievement dinners.

Both of us when our kids were in Junior and Senior high were involved with the sing-a-long—we taught in the CCD program . . .

Question: What were the sing-a-longs like?

Jim: Sing a long—the Knights of Columbus did it—what they did—in the old gym—they had an Emcee and a band.

Bonnie: A swing band

Questions: What year was this?

Bonnie: Late sixties

Jim: Songbooks and beer and chips and all that stuff. And people would request a song.

Question: How did they make money from this?

Jim: They charged for them to come in—and they sold the beer.

Question: Who came?

Bonnie: Just adults and friends. It was open to the public—people would come from other Catholic Churches.

Question: How many people would come?

Bonnie: Two to three hundred people. A lot of fun.

Jim: When they first started the turkey dinners—the families would cook the turkeys at home—then the health department put a stop to that—so then the bakery downtown did the turkeys and some of the people would help—and the Health Department was okay with that...

Bonnie: People could bring pies and stuff from home but the department was worried how the turkeys would be cooked....

I remember one Christmas—a play that we had—that our boy was in—our boy was always a small little guy—and he was going to be a shepherd—and they had this other boy who had been the shepherd before he moved on but he had been really tall—so they brought this big—this great big costume—could you make this for Dan so he can be a shepherd?—so I made this great big costume down to fit our boy.

Bonnie: At the end of the story we need to have it clearly told how wonderfully blessed we are to belong to such a good Catholic Church and community.

Jim and Bonnie Moore

# A Different Light

My husband and I were married by Father Martin Doherty 49 years ago and became members of St. Mary's that same year. As newlyweds who had just arrived from North Dakota, we rented an apartment in the home of a wonderful lady, Bertha Barnes. She happened to be a member of St. Mary's, which delighted us. She was our guardian angel who took us under her wing, and it was through her that we first met people at St. Mary's.

My life has been so much more colorful because of Bertha. One time when we were together, she was driving down Pacific Boulevard approaching a green light when she stepped on the gas and said, "St. Francis, keep that light green." It made me laugh, but it's not something I would recommend.

Father Doherty also touched our lives in memorable ways. He changed my view of sorrow at the death of our third child seven years later when he said, "You now have an angel in heaven!" It was a defining moment that helped get me through that difficult time.

After hearing a sermon about how communities depend on its members to take an active role in it, I became active in the CCD program where I met other members of St. Mary's. I have great memories of the laughs; Marilyn Kok, Ellen Ketsdever, Roseanne Wilson, Father Mel Stead, and I shared as we worked together on different projects and events.

One of the CCD teachers, Minnie McCafferty invited me to join the Catholic Daughters in 1974. I did join and it was a blessed decision. Through this organization I have met and grown to love many wonderful faith-filled women. I can't imagine my life without them and the Catholic Daughter's from all over the country. They have brought a rainbow of colors to my life.

Being a part of the choir under the direction of Alice Palmquist was another very rewarding experience. A fellow alto next to me, Nelda Whaley, kept me on key. They were two very special ladies, as was Alice's husband, Bob.

I have always been involved in some way in the life of St. Mary's since we moved here. It was not easy for me to join in at first, but once I stepped out and got involved, it was well worth it. I have discovered that there are many ways for us to share our talents, whether they are great or small, and that a community of believers depends on each other to grow in the love and knowledge of God. We bring color to each other's lives.

Sometimes in life someone says a word, or smiles, or touches us in some way so that we see things with a different light. Being a part of St. Mary's gives us many opportunities to meet and touch the lives of other members of the Body of Christ. Each person adds color and light to our journey as we work together in the home of the Lord.

Marjean Hellman

# Room at the Inn

Traveling often serves to remind me that our parish is but a small part of a much larger church. As we celebrate 125 years as a parish in Albany, it is a good time for me to reflect on the broader church that I am a part of—a living, yet ancient, worldwide fellowship of believers.

In my travels, I have attended Masses in places as diverse as Peru, China, Tanzania, and Central Illinois. In these places and others, I have been able to follow the flow of the Mass, even when I didn't understand the language. I have always felt at home, with welcoming congregations pleased to have me visiting them. One especially memorable Mass took place during Christmas of 1998.

Our family was vacationing in Baja California that December. We were Ann, myself, and our four children, then ages two to thirteen, traveling in our minivan on roads that Chrysler probably never intended for their minivan to go. We had been camping out and staying in low-budget motels for a couple of weeks when we pulled into the small town of San Ignacio in the middle of the Vizcaino Desert on Christmas Eve. San Ignacio is an oasis of palm trees and lush vegetation that stands in stark contrast to the surrounding cacti studded desert. It is a modest place with a main square, a few side streets, and a bit of agriculture supported by a year-round freshwater stream. Along one side of the main square is a well preserved Spanish mission church. It is one of the few mission churches that was built by the Dominicans during their brief overseeing of the California mission system.

There was no hotel in San Ignacio, but we asked around and found a room we could rent behind a restaurant on the main square. We were feeling road weary after two weeks of traveling around the rugged Baja terrain, so we went to bed early but were soon up again to attend Midnight Mass at the Mission.

Most of the community was out that calm night, drawn towards the mission that had served as the focal point of the community for centuries.

The two story tall structure was made with thick walls like other mission churches, but rather than using adobe, the core of the structure was built using the abundant local volcanic rocks. Its front had an ornate white and stone gray façade which was topped with a bell tower on one corner.

Entering the building through the carved wooden main entrance doors revealed an interior with massive supporting columns lining the main aisle. This aisle led up to the altar which sat beneath the main dome of the structure. Behind the altar there was an ornate golden backdrop which framed four large paintings and a statue of San Ignacio. Considering its location, the structure was truly remarkable. The Church, formally called San Igancio de Loyola, still served the community, but was left open for tourists during the day.

We sat in a crowded pew, not understanding the words of the Mass, but knowing the meaning just the same. Creo en un solo Dios... (We believe in one God...)—The familiar cadence of the Mass was unmistakable, even in another language.

The homily was harder to follow, so I found myself reflecting on the missionaries that had come to the area so many years before. The first ones arrived in 1728, at a time when Mexico was a long and hazardous journey across the Atlantic Ocean to those who ventured there from the Spanish homeland. From the Spanish cities of the Mexican mainland, getting to the Baja Peninsula involved another long and dangerous trip. Even from the coastal settlements in Baja, getting to San Ignacio involved a journey through the dry and rugged Baja backcountry to reach the unlikely oasis. .

To this unlikely place, those missionaries brought seeds. They were seeds of plants and seeds of faith. Both kinds took root and over decades grew into a small but thriving agricultural and faith community that continues to this day. It was both inspiring and humbling to witness the results of the efforts of these men and the community they served. These results were evident not just in the structure of the Church, but also in the faith of the people who filled it that Christmas Eve.

We returned to our room after Mass, and it was Christmas Day when we awoke again. Even in that remote village, Santa had found us. This had not been taken for granted because when we had left Oregon, the kids had forgotten to leave him a note telling him that we would be in Baja for Christmas. Concern about this oversight grew as Christmas approached, so during our last night of camping on the Sea of Cortez, Abby wrote him a note and the kids burned it, hoping that Santa would see the smoke signal. Since this seemed like a somewhat uncertain means of communication, there was concern on Christmas Eve over whether or not Santa would be able to find us. Fortunately, he did, and although the gifts were modest, the excitement was great.

After opening presents that morning we drove on a 35-mile unpaved, dusty road from San Ignacio to Laguna San Ignacio on the Pacific Coast. This huge inlet off the ocean is one of the winter calving areas for the gray whales that migrate from Alaska to Mexico and back each year. There was a stiff wind blowing across the lagoon when we arrived, which had us concerned about finding a place to set up our tent as there were no hills or trees to block the wind.

No one was in sight, but we followed signs to a whale-watching tour operation called Toñio's and found Toñio and his family there. We asked him about tours, and he said that the whales were late that year. There were only a couple in the lagoon, and he was not yet giving tours.

We then asked him if he knew of a place where we could set up our tent out of the wind, hoping that he would let us use his house as a windbreak. Instead, he invited us to use his guest house for the night. It was a simple place, but we were touched by his generosity. His son, Octavius, brought over folding cots, which were more comfortable than most of the hotel beds we had slept in along the way.

The symbolism of Toñio's act of generosity was striking. On another Christmas Day, nearly 2000 years earlier, another family pulled into a town half a world away from where we were and could not find a room. They ended up in a manger filled with animals where their child was born. That child brought a spirit into this world that has burned in the hearts of believers ever since.

Among those who had the fire of that spirit in their hearts were the missionaries that carried their faith to the remote corner of the world that we were visiting. The seeds of faith they planted and teachings of Jesus they shared were no doubt a part of Toñio's life. The act of kindness that he showed us that Christmas Day can be traced back to Jesus' birth so many years before. This time, there was room at the inn.

Alan Huster

# What I Was Missing

I joined St Mary's parish in Albany, Oregon, three and half years ago. My husband, Ron, was born and raised in Tillamook and we got married in Tillamook and lived there until retirement. After retiring we decided to move to Albany where we had close friends we had known and visited for about 35 years.

It took us about six months to sell our home in Tillamook. We could not buy another one until we sold ours but we would come to Albany and look at houses on the weekends. Our friends, Marv and Diane would also look for us. When our house finally sold, we found a real estate agent and started looking more seriously. She showed us a couple of houses but they were nothing we liked. Then she called and said she had a house that one of the guys she worked with was selling and thought we would really like this one. We said okay and went and looked and she was right! We both loved it, it had everything we wanted.

That was on a Thursday and that Saturday night, I went to the evening Mass with Diane.

After Mass she introduced me to a lady by saying, "Theresa, here is your neighbor, Eileen. Eileen Hendrick lives next door to you."

Having a new friend right next door to me was a blessing I hadn't counted on. It was almost as if God was determined to prove to me in every way imaginable how much he loved me and wanted to take care of me if I would just let him.

For about 15 years before moving to Albany, I had belonged to a church but did not go to Mass because the Lord and I were not on talking terms. He kept trying to talk to me, but I would ignore him. When I moved here it was as if I was given a fresh start. The people were very welcoming, very warm. Eileen invited me to join a Bible study she was with and then because I love to crochet she introduced me to Carol Hawke and the Prayer Shawl Ministry.

I have always crocheted, I absolutely love it. When I moved here I thought I wouldn't have an outlet for my crochet like I'd had in Tillamook where I crocheted for a couple of churches for their lunches and dinners. But God had everything planned to the smallest detail.

Joining the Prayer Shawl Ministry became a life send. We have wonderful meetings that are more friendship based than anything else. We start and end with a prayer and then in-between we get our needles out and knit or crochet as we talk and share with each other. Some of the ladies who join have never knitted or crocheted before, but a couple of us are pretty good teachers and after we have shown them a few basic stitches pretty soon they are happily hooking with the rest of us. The Shawl Ministry buys the yarn and there are always a few spare needles and hooks floating around as well as various patterns one can borrow. Once a month we go out and have a simple lunch together after the meeting and talk and share some more.

Being at St Mary's has been like a family, more than a family really, because they have accepted me for who I am, not who I was. I have always felt welcome. I feel since coming to Albany and St. Mary's, I have become closer to our Lord. My love for God is stronger than I thought I could ever have.

I never had this much peace, love and friendship before. It is warm, it really is. I can't even remember a bad time that I have ever had here, this is my home. The people that are here have made it my home and we have a lot of fun.

I plant the flowers in front of the church with a few other ladies. I do whatever I can when I can. I am on the funeral committee that does the luncheons for after the funerals. There are about fifty of us in this group and we get sliced meats and cheeses which we put on nice trays along with rolls and make a very nice buffet. The women bring deserts and salads. People who set up, clean up which is where I often volunteer. Wayne is the designated dish washer.

I started going to daily Communion service two weeks after I started going to church again and then stayed afterwards to pray the rosary with a small group. I am a firm believer in the rosary for world peace. I try to get four in a day if I can. EWTN has made a movie of the rosary in the Holy Land so I taped those and then at night I watch them which helps me to concentrate on the mysteries

Caroline Trujillo and I take time every week to call those on the phone list to come for Eucharistic Adoration on Fridays. I fill in at whatever time is most needed. Adoration is the best there is, I sit quietly and can hear our Lord talking to me.

Today, when I stand back and look at myself I am amazed at how far I have come. I just have to say, "Wow." I never thought that I would be here, both spiritually and physically. Father John Betts who likes the outdoors as Ron and I do, has helped me a lot. He is a sweetheart.

The best thing that ever happened to me is moving to Albany. At times I have to ask myself if this has really happened, I am full of such peace. God continues to show me what I was missing. He stayed with me through those many years when all I thought about was me, when all I focused on was me. That did not work out. All I really needed was "Him." Looking back on that, I can learn. It is a beautiful feeling.

Theresa Krake

# Ticket Booth Theology

We came to Albany in 1977, and when we saw St. Mary's Church it was love at first sight. Father Mel Stead was the pastor and he loved the old Church, its history, and all of its artifacts. As he gave us a tour of the rectory, he told us some of the history of the parish and showed us pictures of all the pastors that been there before him.

Father Stead had a marvelous sense of humor and, in fact, for some maybe it was a little too much. At that time some discussions were going on about whether to create a Southern Oregon diocese which would have included Albany. I don't know what Father Stead's view was on the idea, but to add a little humor to a meeting about it, he came fully dressed in a confederate uniform. He was a pretty dashing rebel.

Several of our children worked at the Venetian theater during their high school years and parishioner Stan Carlson was the manager. He had a policy of letting Father Stead into the movies free. One night, Lori, a friend of our daughters and later our daughter-in-law, was working the ticket booth when Father Stead came to see a movie. The movie theater did not show any really bad movies, but Lori told Father that this probably wasn't a movie that he should see. She was pretty determined to keep him out. After some discussion he did watch the movie, but he got such a kick out of the whole affair that when Lori and Mark were married a couple of years later, he retold the whole story of her trying to protect him and had everyone at the wedding laughing.

We were converts several years before coming to Albany but it took some time before we got into some of the Catholic traditions. The idea of going to daily Mass was new to us. We started going to Saturday morning Mass and two parishioners, John Kelly and Francis Todd, stayed after the Mass to say the rosary. We didn't know how to pray the rosary but John and Francis taught us. We still say the rosary and there have been an endless number of wonderful and holy people who have attended services with us and prayed the rosary with us over the years.

One of our great joys over the last ten years has been coming to know Margaret Conser. When we first met Margaret she was active in the daily communion service at St. Mary's and asked us to go to Alterra (now Villas Albany) retirement home once a week to do the communion service for those who could not get out to go to Mass. We love doing this and have met many wonderful people who have helped and inspired us to grow in our faith. The tough part has been that as they need more care they move to other facilities but the positive is that God continues to send us new companions of faith to journey with. Margaret at 94 is not able to do this ministry any more but is still active and our dear friend and inspiration.

It is these wonderful and holy people who make St Mary's in Albany such a wonderful parish.

Gary and Birdie Siewell

# The Little Chapel

I moved to Albany in 2008. The first Mass that I attended at St. Mary's church I felt that I was back at my hometown. I love the architecture and all the inside decorations. The music is wonderful and very peaceful.

I love to pray in the little chapel because it is very quiet and comfortable. My dream is that St. Mary's will have Perpetual Adoration. I have been praying to the Lord that he sends more souls who want to be close to Jesus and contemplate His heart in the Holy Host.

Linda Roblero

# Fr Metayer

1885 - 1905

On September 28, 1885, Archbishop William Gross sent Father Louis Metayer to the small railroad town of Albany, Oregon, with instructions to establish a parish.

Father Metayer met with seven Catholic families in the Depot Hotel at Ninth and Lyon Street and celebrated Mass on Sunday, October 2, 1885. A few weeks later, he purchased an old school house from the Albany School Board for $400 and had it moved to land the Archdiocese had purchased from Thomas Monteith ten years earlier. Another $600 was paid for remodeling, and the first Mass in this "maiden" home of St. Mary's in Albany was celebrated on Christmas, 1885.

Father Metayer spent the next 12 years adding on and re-working the old school house into an elegant and worthy church. He added more than twice the space of the original school house to the north. A steeple was added to the front. The steeple grew to a belfry and eventually side steeples and a hexagonal baptistery were added.

Modeled after an abbey church in France, the second St. Mary's was dedicated August 17, 1898. It was clearly the "Gem of the Valley" as Archbishop Gross noted at the dedication. It became the treasure of the community with its pressed fir moldings, elegant furnishings and extensive stained glass crafted by Povey Brothers of Portland. When he had first arrived, Father Metayer organized the children for religious instruction and with the Archbishop invited the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel to open an academy in Albany.

On the southern half of the block an impressive structure was built. Just a year after establishing the parish, Our Lady of Perpetual Help Academy opened. It was a day school to serve the local children, and a boarding school soon filled with Native American students transported from their reservations in southern Oregon and Alaska.

Father Metayer died in Albany on May 17, 1905 and was buried in the cemetery at Mount Angel Abbey. He left a substantial gift to the people of St. Mary's Parish and to Albany - a magnificent church and a rootedness that would blossom for generations to come.

# Fr Lane

****

1906 - 1925

On July 1, 1905, Father Arthur Lane was appointed the second pastor of St. Mary's Parish. His appointment carried responsibility for a vast mission territory stretching from the Pacific to the Cascades and south to Eugene City. His arrival heralded a period of missionary zeal that found St. Mary's mothering more than a dozen Catholic communities throughout the area.

Father Lane and his assisting priests established missions at St. Edward in Lebanon (1905), St. Patrick in Lyons (1906), St. Thomas in Jefferson (1907), Holy Family in Brownsville (1908), St. Louis in Shelburn (1910), St. Catherine in Mill City (1911), St. Bernardin Scio (1913) and Our Lady of Victory in Harrisburg (1913). They also served Wellsdale, Halsey, Holley, Sodaville, Sweet Home and occasionally the ancient parish in Corvallis.

The Catholic Extension Society of Chicago provided a Chapel Car in 1909 and again in 1910 which, when headquartered in Albany, provided special services by railroad to these surrounding communities. The Society also provided financial assistance to establish most of these mission churches. The occasional novelty of the Chapel Car was a help, but the missionaries traveled on foot or by horse-drawn buggy. By the 1920's, many of these mission churches became parishes, a few expired.

St. Mary's Parish, responding to the community's need for a medical facility, purchased from Father Metayer's estate the substantial home he had built at Ninth and Ellsworth Street. With $7,000 donated by the Albany community, a surgery wing and 17 ward beds were added to open St. Mary's Hospital. For sixteen months, it operated under parish auspices and then was turned over to the Sisters of Mercy. In 1927, the Albany General Hospital was completed and the sisters closed their hospital. It became a boarding house and was later destroyed by fire.

The priest's small residence attached to the church was not sufficient for Father Lane and his assistants, so a new rectory was built in 1909 across from the hospital. It was an imposing structure and when the old rectory was remodeled into a parish hail, block 69 in the City of Albany became 'St. Mary's" - an elegant and substantial collection of buildings serving not only Albany but communities for many miles distant.

Those were heroic days ...and days of rapid change. In spite of prejudice and bigotry against Catholics so common throughout Oregon, St. Mary's was not just tolerated her members and her pastor had become respected leaders and essential cooperators in building up the community.

When Father (by then Monsignor) Lane was transferred to Portland in 1926. The missionary era came to a close. Expectations of Albany becoming a railroad center and a metropolitan city had long since passed. Parishes had been established and were now staffed by resident pastors in most of the surrounding communities. Eugene had become the center of growth in the Willamette Valley and was staffed with missionary priests. Albany settled into being a small town, serving the farms and mills in the middle of the Valley.

# Fr Albert Carmody

1926 - 1933

Father Albert Carmody was appointed third pastor of St. Mary's in 1926. He guided the parish through quieter clays of pastoral care and spiritual growth. The parish grew slowly and became even more rooted in the Albany community.

In order to accommodate increasing numbers of parishioners, Father Carmody oversaw a church remodeling that cut back the size of the sanctuary from cathedral portions to one more suitable for a parish church. The choir stalls were removed to the sides, a less elaborate altar replaced! the original and new pews were added to increase seating. The bishop's chair however was left in the sanctuary as an antique reminder of the dreams of another time.

# Father John Waters

1933 - 1951

Father Carmody was replaced in 1933 by Father John Waters who served the parish until 1951. Father Waters was an invalid for the last three years of his life. Father Sebastian Terhaar, OSB, and later his brother Father Anthony from Mount Angel traveled to Albany every weekend to assist with pastoral care. Father Edward Hyatt was assigned to administer the parish during Father Waters illness and until a new pastor was appointed.

The Knights of Columbus Council #1577, which had been established in Albany in 1911, was joined in 1948 by Court Our Lady of Perpetual Help of the Catholic Daughters. These organizations offered a social setting for Catholics, providing a welcome opportunity for members to serve the parish and the community.

Like much of Oregon, Albany experienced rapid growth during World War II. Camp Adair, just across the Willamette River, housed as many as 50,000 soldiers at times. With them came construction workers, business people and families. The parish welcomed the swell and ministered with additional Masses - four were held on Sundays, with standing room only.

# Father Martin Doherty

1951 - 1970

Father Martin Doherty was appointed fifth pastor of St. Mary's in 1951 and guided the parish through a period of massive growth and increased lay involvement. He formed a Finance Committee of parishioners - a radically progressive move - who eagerly accepted responsibility of finding ways to accommodate the new needs of this expanding community. Father Doherty sought the help of both men and women on this first parish committee.

In 1952 the parish school had grown to 300 students and during that year, the parish bought the academy from the Benedictine Sisters for $25,000. In 1955. The Finance Committee set about a further renewal of the parish and began a campaign to raise $100,000 for an all-purpose building. The new building was completed a year later, and with volunteer and financial commitment from hundreds of parishioners, the parish incurred no debt. The building housed a gymnasium which served as an auditorium for 700 people, and a basement dining room and ample kitchen.

Next, the Finance Committee began planning for a new school building. In 1969, the parish purchased and remodeled a duplex three blocks from the school to serve as a convent for the sisters. Then in 1971, a new Education Center was built by the parish.

With reforms of the Second Vatican Council in 1964, the "high altar" in the church was replaced with a free standing altar. Since the population of the parish had grown to nearly 2000 worshippers on weekends, all available floor space was filled with pews. Bythe mid-seventies, seven Masses were celebrated each weekend to accommodate the crowds of faithful.

But the real changes were in the hearts and ministries of the people. The religious education program, swelled with the baby boom after the war, was involving more and more parishioners. In 1968, parishioners organized programs for children from preschool through eighth grade.

# Father Mel Stead

1970 - 1983

In 1970 Father Mel Stead was appointed pastor. Two years later, he established a parish Education Board to oversee and coordinate the ministry of the school and the religious education program. A religious education director was hired to integrate the education program and provide coordination and training for the lay volunteers. More than 50 people were regularly teaching parish youth.

The liturgical reforms of Vatican II begun in 1965 became permanently established with another remodeling of the church in 1970. The confessionals were relocated and the communion rail removed. They were crafted into a new altar.

In 1973, three members of the parish were designated by the Archbishop to assist in the distribution of Holy Communion. These were the first of hundreds who have since accepted this ministry of service and devotion.

Other outreach efforts sprung from a new sense of community within the parish. The Marriage Encounter Movement took hold in the mid-seventies and scores of parish couples shared weekend retreats - returning to a new kind of involvement and ministry. Several other churches joined St. Mary's to form FISH Emergency Services to respond to needs of the poor in the community. A Parish Outreach program was formed to care for the needs of others following the inspiration of Mother Theresa of Calcutta

# Father Pat Walsh

1983 - 1994

Following the direction of the Vatican Council, a new kind of lay leadership was called for. In April, 1983 Father Walsh called a parish meeting to begin the process of forming a Pastoral Council. The Council's purpose would be planning and developing the ministry of the parish. The first Pastoral Council was elected by the parishioners on May 1, 1983 and soon set about the task of developing a mission statement and plan for the parish.

In the Pastoral Plan for 1984-85, the Council identified the need to begin addressing the condition and adequacy of the parish facilities. A Master Plan Committee was formed and developed a plan which included: structural improvements and additional seating in the historic church, remodeling and expansion of the education building, relocation and remodeling of the rectory/office and construction of a new church to respond to the expected parish growth into the twenty-first century.

The Master Plan was accepted by the Pastoral Council and approved by the Archbishop and restoration work began on the church in 1986. In Spring 1989, a contract was signed for moving the rectory built by Father Lane in 1909. The momentous move was made at daybreak on a rainy July day.

In September of that year, the Pastoral Council gave the go ahead to begin developing the plans for a new church.

Just a month later, on October 29, 1989 at 7:47 that Sunday evening, the smoke detectors in the church sounded the alarm. Things changed for nearly the whole community.

By 8:15, flames were visible from the hills of North Albany and hundreds of people gathered to watch, horrified, as St Mary's collapsed in a blaze of destruction. All of Albany stopped in disbelief.

The Albany Fire Department, the police and the district attorney engaged in the largest fire investigation in the history of Albany. A week later, a transient was arrested for arson, and later convicted and sentenced to twenty years in prison.

That Sunday, Masses were celebrated in The Forum at Linn Benton Community College. Among the TV cameras and reporters, parishioners wept and sang, struggling to assure one another that even this disaster could be an opportunity for hope.

And from the beginning, it was. Parishioners who had heretofore nodded pleasantries were literally crying on each other's shoulders. Those who never met because of their routine - were uniting like old friends. It was a reason to find our faith family - in a new way.

By the following weekend, St. Mary's gymnasium - though damaged by water and smoke - was prepared for Mass. It was cold, poorly lighted, uncomfortable, but it was home. And one of our few surviving pieces - a golden-gilded angel, the tip of her left wing broken off in her fall, graced the altar.

The Building Committee began to design a new church and facilities that would respond to the needs of a growing parish. After Mass in that old gymnasium, parishioners were asked to share their dreams, feelings and desires for the new church. Butcher paper stretched across the walls and parishioners took pencils and pens to record their ideas. Almost unanimously, they reflected the deep need for warmth, wood, stained glass and community.

By Christmas week, the Administrative Cabinet negotiated an agreement with Heritage Mall to use the former Sears store in downtown Albany. Within hours, hundreds of parishioners built a sanctuary, rented and arranged folding chairs, developed a space for hospitality, and decorated "St. Sears" for the birth of our Savior. It seemed so strange, so unlike midnight Mass and the mellow wooden walls and stained glass, but it was St. Mary's. It was the same people lifting our voices and believing that in a humble manger, Christ was born.

The Sears building gave the parish space to gather and to share the plans for the future. Soon an Interior Resource Committee was formed to determine the style, feel and interior treatment of the church. These parishioners spent hours studying church documents on art and architecture, brought in consultants and discussed the implication of liturgy and buildings. All parishioners were invited to share their concerns and thoughts about their new home.

A church that would be not only a reflection of modern church teaching, but a place that would be an expression of our unique community of believers.

A Listening Committee worked with program staff, volunteers and users of the parish buildings. They determined the spaces needed for other parish programming and made recommendations to the Building Committee.

In Spring 1990, the Pastoral Council and the Building Committee secured approval of the Archdiocese. Construction could begin when funds or pledges were in place. The parish had already engaged in a Capital Fund Campaign in November 1987 for implementation of the Master Plan, so parishioners were still paying off pledges of over $700,000. The Pastoral Council agreed another capital campaign was needed. The "St. Mary's Rebuilding Campaign" began in May 1990. Plans for the new church complex were shared with parishioners and distinctions were made between what needed to be done immediately and what portions of the plan would be accomplished as funds became available.

# Father John Betts

1994 -2010

Father John Betts was appointed Pastor of St. Mary's in 1994. During this time the Hispanic population of Albany grew and with it, the Hispanic ministry of St. Mary's Parish. The Missionaries of the Holy Spirit assisted on a regular basis so that Mass in Spanish could be celebrated weekly.

With the growth of the community came additional stress on meeting space for the parish community. Father Betts, with the assistance of the Administrative Cabinet and Pastoral Council, continued a search for additional property to serve the parish.

In summer of 2010 the parish purchased the Train House which would be used for additional office and meeting space for the parish.

Father Betts celebrated his 40th Anniversary as a priest in May of 2008. After several months of an extended illness in 2010, Father Betts was granted an early retirement.

# Father Andrew Thomas

In July 2010 Father Andrew Thomas was appointed the ninth pastor of St. Mary's Parish. On August 22, 2010, during a special Mass to celebrate the parish's 125th Anniversary, Father Andrew was installed by Archbishop Vlazny.
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I hope you have enjoyed this book!

It has been a work of Love,

Faith and Celebration for 125 Amazing Years of the parishioners of St. Mary's Parish in Albany, Oregon. If you ever come to Albany, Oregon - Stop in and say "Hell-o!"

Patricia Proctor

Children's Book Author

MyDogCanFly.com

Other books by this author

available in Print and Kindle editions

101 Inspirational Stories of the Power of the Rosary

201 Inspirational Stories of the Eucharist

101 Inspirational Stories of the Priesthood

101 Inspirational Stories of the Sacrament of Reconciliation

101 Inspirational Stories of the Power of Prayer
