You Never Know Where Ideas Will Come From

I am taking a class on profile writing, and as part of that class, we did a conference call tonight with a professor who has been a journalist for decades, Tommy Shea. He formerly wrote a column for the Springfield Union-News in Springfield, Mass. about unsung heroes, and in preparation for this conference call, we were asked to read a few of his stories. The third story I read that he had penned featured a man who had been a victim of sexual abuse at the hands of a now-defrocked priest, Richard Lavigne. The focus of this column had an interesting twist, though, because Tom Shea revealed that this victim came to him asking him to do a profile on a "good priest," someone who had defied the church hierarchy and condemned those who sought to cover up the sins of Lavigne and others. The name of that good priest was one James Scahill. When I read that name, I was floored. I made my first Communion in 1975, a year after Father Scahill was assigned to Blessed Sacrament Church in Greenfield, my hometown. I had the pleasure to be an altar server in the last Mass Father Scahill celebrated at Blessed Sacrament before he was reassigned. His tenure in Blessed Sacrament was brief - 18 months sounds right, though it might have been slightly longer, but during that time, Father Scahill made a profound impression on me. Perhaps it was because I knew he had graduated in the same class - 1965 - as my mother, from Cathedral High School in Springfield, but I think that was only part of it. Father Scahill was a man who led by example, and even though he was a young priest, it was easy to see that he was going to go places. I could not be surprised, then, to read that Father Scahill had used his pulpit to announce to his parish that he would oppose using one cent of donations from his parishioners to support the disgraced priest Lavigne. I should not have been surprised that Father Scahill went on CNN to demand that former Pontiff Benedict should resign the papacy because of his role to cover up the sex abuse scandal during his clerical career. I do not know why Benedict chose to retire as pope, but this revelation certainly gives me food for thought. Each one of my classmates were to ask Tommy Shea one question, and I was the third one, going alphabetically, to ask a question. I had to ask him about whether he ever did do a profile about Father Scahill, and if he could explain how he determined whether someone should be the focus of a column. Apparently my question touched a nerve with Tommy, because he said the subject still sent shivers up his spine, and he explained that he had not done a profile on Father Scahill, in part because he chose to handle it by profiling the victim of sexual abuse instead, and how Father Scahill had touched his life. But then Tommy suggested something to me that really touched a nerve with me as well. He told me that if I'm ever looking for a book to write, doing a memoir on the now retired Father Scahill would be a great project to write. I must confess that after reading about Father Scahill's heroic stand against the church hierarchy, I was inspired to try to find more. I knew, for example, that he had retired in 2014, which really floored me, because the James Scahill I knew was so young and vivacious. It was hard for me to believe that his entire career had already passed, and it made me wonder how many thousands of lives he had touched during his career. What did not surprise me is when I read an account of his final Mass of his career. His parish so loved him that as he said goodbye to them for the final time, many in the congregation had tears in their eyes. This was not a surprise because I recalled that day back in the 1970s when he said goodbye to Blessed Sacrament Parish, as I stood behind him on the altar, I had tears in my eyes. I have never been so moved by the departure of a priest before or since. I think I need to find the retired Father James Scahill.