Chicago Stories - Growing Up In the Windy City. Thomas Walsh

led up to the main altar in a vast sanctuary situated under a huge dome. The interior was brightly painted in gold, light blue and white. Light blue and white are the colors associated with the Virgin Mary. During mass Tim always spent time staring at the white marble statues of the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, and the Stations of the Cross along the walls on both sides of the church. When the massive organ in the choir loft played, or the choir sang Tim would turn around to gaze up at the loft. When he did this, he always held onto his mother’s leg so he didn’t lose his balance.

      The Monsignor and three priests of the parish lived in the rectory building. It was connected to the church by a door that opened into the sacristy. The sacristy was two rooms behind the sanctuary connected by a narrow hallway. The room on the left side of the church was where the altar boys put on their cassocks and chasubles before services. The other sacristy room on the right side of the church was where the priests put on their vestments. It also had a large walk-in safe where sacred and valuable articles such as chalices, crosses and incense burners used in worship services were stored for safe keeping.

      The rectory was a plain building with a stone front and large wooden door. Tim never saw people go in or out of the rectory, but he knew the priests lived there. He heard his brothers and parents talk about the priests in hushed tones of respect. During mass the priests were solemn and stone faced, almost as if they were encased in the vestments they wore. They were the complete opposite after mass greeting parishioners, or on the rare occasion when you met a priest on the street in his dress street clothes- a black suit with a white collar and a black hat. Then they were friendly, smiling and made cordial small talk, always asking if everything was alright.

      Altar boys were exposed to the human side of the priests like few others. They learned about each priest’s personality; the real person lurking below the surface that occasionally appeared in brief flashes of joy, sadness or anger. Each priest had a unique style of performing mass and other services. Altar boys were expected to learn each priest’s style so the services would flow smoothly. Failure to do so incurred the wrath of the priests. The priests rarely disciplined altar boys directly, however. Worse, they complained to the nuns! The nuns who respected and feared the priests usually knee-jerk reacted; swiftly and sometimes violently disciplining the altar boys.

      Father Cochran was the altar boys’ favorite priest. He was friendly and easy going. After mass he often hung out at Sheets, a small store across Leland from the church. He smoked cigarettes, drank cokes, and read the Tribune in between chatting with people in the store. He was a heavy-set, younger man with black hair and a perpetual five o’clock shadow.

      Despite his easy-going nature, Father Cochran always seemed to be in a hurry when he said mass. He could recite the Confiteor faster than any person on earth. When he served communion it was always a race to keep up with him as he rushed down from the altar to the communion rail. During the consecration, Father Cochran liked just a drop of water poured in his chalice by the altar boys, followed by all the wine in the cruet. The other priests wanted just the opposite with more water and a few drops of wine.

      One morning Tim and another boy served 6:15 mass with Father Cochran as the celebrant. Father Cochran seemed his usual hurried self, rushing through the service. At communion though, the worst of all possible accidents happened. Father Cochran spun around from the altar to race down to the communion rail when he tripped and fell down the altar stairs. All of the consecrated hosts in his chalice flew out, landing on the rug at the foot of the altar. A hush fell over the church. The parishioners coming up for communion froze in place. Time stood still.

      Father Cochran stood up and stared in disbelief at the dozens of hosts scattered on the rug. Perspiration formed on his brow as he considered what to do next. After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, he returned to the altar and took another chalice full of consecrated hosts. Father Cochran carefully skirted the rug at the foot of the altar to finish communion.

      When mass was over he took off his vestments and returned to the sanctuary with an empty chalice. He knelt and carefully picked up each host, held it over his chalice and ate each and every one. He went back to the rectory and returned with a pail of water and a cloth. He knelt again and hand washed the entire rug. Parishioners from the 6:15 mass as well as those coming in for the 7:30 mass watched in shocked disbelief. The pail, water and cloth were incinerated when he was finished. The rest of the masses scheduled for that morning were cancelled.

      Rumors quickly spread about the terrible accident and the humiliation suffered by Father Cochran. Monsignor O’Malley was said to have been furious with Father Cochran. The nuns spoke in hushed whispers and pretended like nothing had happened. After the accident Father Cochran slowed down and did not rush through a mass again at Lourdes. A year or so later he left the parish to be a chaplain in the Army. Some people said he was just not cut out to be a parish priest.

      Several of Tim’s classmates were also altar boys including two of his friends. Ron was smaller than most of the altar boys, but he was an all-around athlete. He always wanted everyone to like him. If he sensed someone was mad at him or didn’t like him he would cling to that person like fly paper until they were friendly toward him or acted like they were. Ron was a boy that was slow to grow out of the fascination with farting. Most boys moved beyond recreational farting when they began to notice girls. Not Ron! He could fart at will and laughed himself silly whenever he let one rip. John was a big pudgy kid like Tim. He was a great baseball player. He played catcher. When there was a foul pop fly anywhere near home plate nothing could stop John from reaching it except a fence or wall. He was quiet and shy otherwise, but he had a good sense of humor. When something struck John as funny he broke out in giggles that usually progressed to uncontrollable laughter, often ending with tears in his eyes.

      Tim, Ron and John were assigned a funeral service on a Saturday morning. Funerals like weddings presented an opportunity for tips for the priest and the altar boys, so the boys were happy to serve the mass. Three altar boys were needed for the service because it was customary for the priest to meet the casket in the vestibule of the church in a cortege led by one altar boy carrying a large cross and two others carrying a tall candle each in a heavy candle holder. Later in the service the altar boy who carried the cross also assisted the priest with the incense burner during the blessing of the casket.

      When the altar boys arrived at the sacristy to dress for the service they were all in a playful mood. They teased and joked with each other and naturally Ron served up a couple of farts drawing laughs from all three boys. Father Collins, the youngest of the priests walked in from the rectory on his way to dress in the sacristy on the other side of the altar. He stopped to chat with the boys. With a warm and smiling way he gently reminded the boys that rowdy behavior was not appropriate in the sacristy and especially on a solemn occasion of a funeral. The boys took the good natured scolding in stride.

      Father Collins was friendly and likeable. He was a very handsome man with a chiseled face, dark eyes and jet black hair. He had the natural qualities of a leader. There were rumors that he might succeed Monsignor O’Malley or even move up to the Chancery Office at the Archdiocese.

      The funeral service began smoothly. There was a large group of mourners -a Hispanic family had lost a grandfather. Several generations of extended family dressed in dark suits and dresses, the women with black veils over their faces, many crying softly and dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, filled the front of the church. After the sermon Father Collins nodded to Tim to get the incense burner from the sacristy for the blessing of the casket. Tim brought the incense burner out to the altar. Ron and John fell in behind him with the candle holders. Ron farted and snickered at John. John resisted looking over at Ron because he knew if he started giggling he might totally lose it.

      Despite his best efforts, a smile began to creep across John’s face. He made the fatal mistake of looking over at Ron. Ron had been watching John intently. When he saw him respond he worked up another, louder fart. That was too much for John. He began to giggle loudly, which brought a wide grin to Ron’s face. He was happy knowing that John was his buddy for sure.

      Father Collins heard the commotion at the bottom of the altar as he turned to head down to bless the casket.

      He cast a quick quizzical look at the altar boys that said, “I don’t know what is