Born: 17 May 1909, Blackrock, County Dublin
Entered: 01 September 1926, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1941, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1945, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 21 December 1971, Wah Yan College, Hong Kong - Hong Kong Province (HK)

Transcribed HIB to HK : 03 December 1966

Father was a Civil Servant. Family lived in Glasnevin.

Early education at Holy Faith Convent, Glasnevin, and then at 11 years of age he went to Belvedere College SJ

by 1936 at Aberdeen, Hong Kong - Regency
by 1958 at Cheung Chau, Hong Kong - Regency studying language

◆ Hong Kong Catholic Archives :
Death of Father Turner
R.I.P.

Father John Turner, S.J., scholar and poet, died suddenly on Tuesday, 21 December 1971, at Wah Yan College, Hong Kong, aged 62.

Father Turner first came to Hong Kong in 1935, already a ripe classical scholar. From the time of his arrival here he took the study of Chinese language and literature as his main task in life. Apart from two periods in Ireland, a couple of years as professor of English at Chung San University, Canton, and about a year in Taiwan, the last thirty-six years of his life were spent in Hong Kong. In recent years, bad health, crippling arthritis, and, most of all, ever-increasing immersion in Chinese studies cut him off from easy contact with the general public. Outside his own community, he was known chiefly to fellow poets and fellow Sinologues.

He will, nevertheless, be grievously missed by many who are neither Sinologues nor poets, including the editor of this paper.
Sunday Examiner Hong Kong - 24 December 1971

Note from Alan Birmingham Entry
After returning to Hong Kong in February 1948, he was sent for some months to Canton (Guangzhou) where a Jesuit colleague, Father John Turner, was lecturing at Chung Shan University.

Note from Joe Shields Entry
How he had assisted in sorting Father Turner’s manuscript on Tang Dynasty poetry

◆ Biographical Notes of the Jesuits in Hong Kong 1926-2000, by Frederick Hok-ming Cheung PhD, Wonder Press Company 2013 ISBN 978 9881223814

Note from Joseph Howatson Entry
He came to Hong Kong as Regent with Seán Turner who was a different personality and whose whole world was words and ideas. Travelling with them was Fr Cooney who was bringing the Markee telescope

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 22nd Year No 1 1947

Departures for Mission Fields in 1946 :
4th January : Frs. P. J. O'Brien and Walsh, to North Rhodesia
25th January: Frs. C. Egan, Foley, Garland, Howatson, Morahan, Sheridan, Turner, to Hong Kong
25th July: Fr. Dermot Donnelly, to Calcutta Mission
5th August: Frs, J. Collins, T. FitzGerald, Gallagher, D. Lawler, Moran, J. O'Mara, Pelly, Toner, to Hong Kong Mid-August (from Cairo, where he was demobilised from the Army): Fr. Cronin, to Hong Kong
6th November: Frs. Harris, Jer. McCarthy, H. O'Brien, to Hong Kong

Irish Province News 47th Year No 1 1972

Obituary :

Fr Seán Turner SJ (1909-1971)

We are largely indebted to Fr. Alan Birmingham for the following appreciation:
“Your only chance of being remembered in a hundred years is that you may be mentioned in a footnote of Seán Turner”. That remark was made some years ago by a perceptive European Jesuit to a startled Superior of what was then the Mission of Hong Kong.
When Father John Turner - “Seán” to everyone - died suddenly on 21 December he had achieved no fame outside a small circle of students of Chinese; but he left a vast disarray of paper. Many expect that it will be possible to extract from these disordered literary remains at least one volume that will be treasured a century from now. For about two decades he had been translating Chinese poetry into English poetry. Only a few of his translations have appeared in print, but many of his friends have read large numbers of them in manuscript. Those who could judge them only as English poetry have been uniformly enthusiastic about them as English poetry; but a Chinese savant has told me that to him they are remarkable chiefly on account of their wonderful accuracy as translations. Every character, he said, is translated with scrupulous fidelity; the Chinese original has never been sacrificed to the exigencies of English prosody.
Seán was born in Dublin on 17 May, 1909. My own memories of him go back to Belvedere in the mid-1920s. He was a couple of years ahead of me and I did not know him, but there was an air of vitality about him that caught attention, and no one could ignore his mop of black curls with a startling white plume in the middle of them. Scholastic eminence was no way to fame in those days, but even his juniors knew that Seán Turner and his close friend Denis Devlin had won what glory there was to be won, including, I think, the first and second places in French and English in the Leaving Certificate.
While still young he enjoyed the friendship of Jack Yeats, probably the best painter in Ireland. Yeats recognised Seán's talent and stimulated his artistic energies. To the end of his life Seán regarded and spoke of this friendship as a cherished memory. His decision to offer himself for the Society probably bemused some of his teachers and still more his school friends, most of whom would have considered that his enthusiasms could hardly abide the disciplines of the religious life for long; they did abide it and at no time could it be asserted that he felt restless “under the yoke”; a delicate sense of humour, ever at hand, enabled him to triumph over the most trying contretemps.
He left the noviciate for Rathfarnham as I entered Tullabeg as a novice; during the next two years the tradition of Seán's passages formed part of the themes of the lighter side of life; streams he had fallen into, places he had been when he should have been elsewhere, his efforts to have riding breeches accepted as conventional noviceship wear; they seem trivial but indicate the humorous independence that accompanied him through life.
In Rathfarnham he devoted himself to his studies - no difficulty for him - with a like bonhomie; his cartoons in Broken Delf under the editorship of Terry Sheridan, illustrated critical situations with point. We suppose Fr Rector, Fr John Keane, had an occasional peep, though without external reaction.
He merited an extra year in the Castle which concluded with an honours MA degree in Classics.
The pattern of life at Rathfarnham was repeated at Philosophy; he did not always work to schedule.
Study went on perpetually, though there were changes of subject. For his first two and a half years of Philosophy, Irish was his passion, Then a few months before his De Universa Philosophia examination, he became a violent Suarezian and made a valiant but unsuccessful effort to convert Father E Coyne, professor of cosmology, to his new enthusiasm.
In 1935 he went to Hong Kong and his remaining 36 years were given to Chinese studies - the language itself, written and spoken, Chinese literature, a brief flirtation with Mandarin followed by dexterous advocacy of Cantonese as a fully developed medium for thought and expression, work on the preparation of a dictionary of Cantonese, and above all translation of major Chinese poems into English.
Constant application of his great gifts made him a savant, much admired by many of his fellow savants. He was for some years a member of a government examination board on Chinese studies. For several years he was in communication with the Oxford University Press about the publication of a representative anthology of his translations; but he could never be persuaded to hand in a complete manuscript; there was always some fine point to be added, always something to be polished. In the end the publisher broke off negotiations. With all his work, he had published little. Those who knew him best decided years ago that posthumous publication was all that could be hoped for. He himself would have been quite content: he valued the good opinion of the few whose judgment he respected, but he had little interest in public fame and seemed to believe that all that really mattered was to do first-class work and communicate it to the few that could appreciate it. To superiors who wanted to see him put his great talent to good use, this scholar's detachment was at times frustrating, though they usually showed understanding or resignation when faced with a man whom they themselves, or at least others whose judgement they could not ignore, recognised as a genius.
People did apply the word “genius” to Seán. I have never known it applied seriously to any other man I have met, Jesuit or non Jesuit. Genius does not always make life easy for the man who possesses it, or for those he lives with. It did not always make life easy for Seán. He seemed capable of attaining everything, except mediocracy. He could succeed gloriously or fail hideously, Mediocrity was out of his reach, yet a great deal of the ordinary enjoyment of life demands mediocrity. Seán could be the most brilliant and most entertaining of talkers; in his pedantic moods, he could be a crashing bore. Desultory conversation about nothing in particular makes up the greater part of most human talk, and often the most enjoyable part: Sean was incapable of it. He seemed conscious of this lack, and occasionally tried to overcome it. These attempts were embarrassing failures and would end in an outburst of strained dialectics or a lecture on some obscure point of esoteric learning, or a baffled departure for his room.
A few days after his death an unprejudiced questioner asked me if Seán had had any close friends. The answer was a decided Yes. Perhaps because of his knowledge that there were many who could not offer him easy friendship, he treasured those who could. He could exude pleasure on seeing one of them, and without a word of welcome make them conscious of being welcome. His friends were a motley group, including every variety of intelligence, social position, education and interests.
Though primarily a man of study, he carried on a direct apostolate that, like everything else about him, was highly characteristic. He had very little power of dealing with the ordinary men and women to whom any priest could minister, and his habit of forgetting all about time made him unsuitable for ordinary supplies and sermons. But with those with whom the ordinary priest was completely ineffective - the self-centred eccentric, the self-conscious intellectual, the drunken failed artist, the man with an obscure grievance, and the like - he had the touch that was needed. Both in Ireland and in Hong Kong, he brought the vision of the faith to many such people who would have laughed off more humdrum approaches.
In recent years, poor health and in particular the agonies of rheumatoid arthritis had hampered his contact with the outside world and even his most trivial movements; but he never allowed such inconveniences to damp his zest for knowledge and for life. Not long before his death I visited him in hospital. He was partly drugged and his talk was lethargic till he began to speak about the nurses and wardsmaids. He promptly threw off the effects of the drugs and was all animation as he explained that he was at least learning true Cantonese. Till then it had all been either scholar's Cantonese or labourer's Cantonese: at last he was learning how ordinary people spoke.
He died suddenly one night, without any preliminary period of exceptionally bad health. The striking diversity of the mourners at his funeral was a tribute to the scope of his friendship. The most noticeable figure was a rather leftish intellectual in Hong Kong - piously kneeling for perhaps the first time in his life. Seán would have been glad to know that this man would attend, but he would probably have cared more for the presence of some of the utterly undistinguished old ladies whose grief would have touched him deeply.
It may be that posthumous fame will come to him. It may be that in a mood of perfectionism he destroyed all his papers and was preparing to begin again. Time will tell. Meanwhile, there are many whose lament for his passing forms a tribute that he would have valued above anything that fame could have offered. RIP

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1939

The Past

Lastly, we have decided to fulfil a promise made last year and enable our readers to see for themselves how Seán Turner SJ, has evolved what appears to be a new aspect of a very old art. The four pictures we print will be unfamiliar, but grow upon the taste. They require, however, some study and knowledge to grasp, and we have no hesitation in printing the explanations of the scrolls which he vouchsafed to: send us in reply to a request for enlightenment

Dear Father Editor,

In the February of last year I had the good fortune to meet Mr. Lo Chan Waan, a distinguished artist from Canton, These four scrolls are the best of a series of studies which I did under his direction during the few months before I left China. The style of painting I learnt from him is that of the virile northern school under the Sung dynasty.

They are not entirely original. One, which show & boat being carried down-stream in a misty gorge at morning, is almost a copy of a scroll by Mr Lo. The others are, like musical exercises, elaborations of a slight theme. The picture of two litterati seated under willow trees is almost altogether my own, the theme being just a pair of willow-trees, and, unlike the rest, was uncorrected by Mr Lo.

To some these pictures may not seem characteristically Chineso. Yet my chief aim was to ape the Chinese manner, though how far I achieved it I cannot say. Incidentally, I wished to test by experiment my suspicion that “East is East, etc” is untrue in art as in other matters. Having examined the conventions of Chinese painting and wearied my teachers with questions on its underlying principles, I found that the latter are indeed not different from those of Western art, that often what I had taken for conventions were not such at all, but true representation of local phenomena, and that the most of the real conventions were determined by materials used. The tops of mountains clearer than their bases, dark specks for foliage on the summits, are strange until one begins to observe that mountains in China actually do look so. Lines more or less conventionalised, and shapes rather hinted at than portrayed, suggest affectation or indolence on the part of the painter, until by experience he learns that the very method of painting - with lamp-black ink on silk or porous paper spread flat - makes quick work imperative, ordinarily precludes painting from nature, and so compels one to draw from memory and to seize on what is essential. Other peculiarities, such as the zig-zag shading for mountain hollows and patterned opalescent rocks, are instances of a selection (of forms indeed discernible in nature) which is prompted by the aesthetic exigencies of Chinese brush-work,

This brush-work proves a stumbling block to strangers. For in China painting is a sister - or rather a daughter - art to calligraphy. The same materials, the same brush and ink handled in the same manner, are employed in each. It would be impossible to describe in brief the graces of Chinese writing. But the Chinese people appraise them keenly. Hence the inter-play of curving, angular, knobbed and rounded strokes is integral to their painting: and colouring, though long tradition has furnished an array of most harmonious pigments, tends to be subsidiary. For my part, if I had not already dabbled in Chinese brush-writing I would never have attempted painting.

Skill in brush-work and much more, the vivid expression of idea, or inspiration, or intelligence, by whatever name one may call that indefinable which the Chinese denoted by the phrase “spirit-rhythm-life movement”, these are the excellencies chiefly sought for. Because memory and speedy execution count for so much, the Chinese artists will be disposed to grapple with the soul or spirit (as they will tell you) of a subject. Therefore, apart from the calligraphic bias, I would say that they differ from the European, if at all, in their being more artistic, more spiritual. They discard the irrelevant and accidental and are intolerant of the yoke of actuality, and so will regard attention to such things as linear perspective as a pedantic foible, So, too, odd dispositions of light and shadow are infrequent in their work (they will hardly paint a reflexion in water unless to illustrate a story).

And yet by their well-worn traditional methods, provided that the demon inspiration is not too far away, they will often bring about a suggestion of reality more vivid than accurate imitation could create.

There is another quality, especially in the older tradition, a certain noble hardness or ruggedness in design, which the Chinese designate by the one word “strength”. There is nothing like it, I believe, in European painting, except in that of Spain, although Cubism might be called a travesty of it. It corresponds to the objectivity (stark and cynical, some would say) of Chinese classical poetry.

Springing from a Wordsworthian recollection and spurning what is material, being normally suffused with that light that never was on sea or land, naturally Chinese painting is poetical, or pointed with fine emotion. This is the sense of the old saying that a painter must travel ten thousand miles and read ten thousand books - not as though he should be of encyclopædic knowledge, but for the sake of range of choice and refinement of feeling. So usually a painter is also a poet and every scroll is capped by a line or two of verse.

I am ashamed to return now to my poor daubs. As you see, I have balked at the poetic lines Even if I could find some appropriate tag, I should fear to mar an indifferent picture with execrable brush character. Even in the simpler art of painting, easy control of the brush would be too much to expect. I think, however, that the subjects are in the right Chinese spirit. The gentleman swaying on the bridge might be a poet returning from a tavern. I was thinking of Lei Paak, the Shakespeare of China, who was drowned, so they say, as he tried to embrace the moon's reflection, his mind being “thunder-struck with wine”. Chinese love of contrast and of unity resulting from opposing stresses I tried to embody in the two men gossiping, the squat dogmatic and the thin supercilious, both alike complacent and pedantic, with the trees and mountains not minding at all. The picture of the old man and boy with the tall gnarled tree and the low green one, although ornamental, also shows a contrast and if it were well done, should make one reflect wistfully that beauty fades; it would improved if the boy were glancing at a kingfisher hurrying by.

Some obvious errors have been corrected by Mr Lo. Thus the picture of the jolly poet is touched up considerably. My pine tree on the left-hand side was much too geometrical, and was parallel to a tree on the other side. So both were blotted into respectability with rocks and foliage, which made the ravine look less perilous. The water swirling in the picture of the high-walled pass was too informal, so part of it was obscured and a new pattern completed with brushes. And of course there are other quite evident mistakes.

Seán Turner SJ

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1972

Obituary

Father Seán Turner SJ (’26)

After leaving Belvedere in 1926, Fr Turner entered the Society and went through the ordinary training until 1935 when he was assigned to the Hong Kong Mission. From then on most of his life was spent in the Far East. There was an interlude when he returned to Ireland for theology and had to prolong his stay until World War II came to an end.

Highly gifted intellectually and artistically Fr Seán was fascinated by the language, literature and culture of China and became proficient in Chinese calligraphy and painting. When editor of the Belvederian he reproduced in the magazine some very attractive examples of his art. But his main interest was the Chinese language on which he was an acknowledged expert. His circle of intellectual and literary friends was almost entirely Chinese and with them the constant subject of discussion was the translation and interpretation of the language.

Unfortunately he was mentally undisciplined and left behind him little written work. He blamed this on the Oxford University Press for whom he was for a long time engaged in producing a book of translations of Chinese poems which in the end they rejected.

Things were never dull in a community when Fr Seán was about. He loved to take up an impossible position and defend it against all comers, witness his translation of the word Gaedhealachas as boorishness to the intense indignation of Irish scholars.

For many years before his death he suffered from crippling arthritis which he bore in silence. The end came unexpectedly during his sleep on the morning of December 21st 1971. May he rest in peace.

Born: 07 March 1921, Drumcondra, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1938, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg
Ordained: 31 July 1952, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 01 December 1977, Loyola, Eglinton Road, Dublin
Died: 11 October 2002, St Columcille’s Hospital, Loughlinstown, County Dublin

Part of the Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death

Father was a Civil Servant. Family moved to live in Ranelagh, Dublin City

Only boy with one sister.

Early education at St Pat’s BNS, Drumcondra and then at Synge Street CBS

by 1963 at Fordham NY, USA (NEB) studying

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Veale, Joseph (‘Joe’)
by Bobby McDonagh

Veale, Joseph (‘Joe’) (1921–2002), Jesuit priest and teacher, was born 7 March 1921 in Dublin, younger of two children and only son of William J. Veale, civil servant, and Mary Veale (née Mullholland), both of Dublin. After primary education at St Patrick's national school, Drumcondra, Dublin, and secondary education at CBS Synge St., Dublin, he entered the Society of Jesus 7 September 1938. He studied arts at UCD (1940–43), philosophy at Tullabeg (1943–6), and theology at Milltown Park, Dublin (1949–53), where he was ordained as a Jesuit priest on 31 July 1952, spending his tertianship at Rathfarnham (1953–4).

Veale taught at Belvedere College, Dublin (1946–9), and at Gonzaga College, Dublin (1954–72). As a teacher of English and religion, he was central to the conception and development of Gonzaga College as a school with exceptional academic standards, in which the emphasis, in practice as well as theory, was on education and expression rather than on examinations. He was the founder and inspiration of the school debating society, An Comhdháil. While working as a teacher, Joe Veale wrote several influential articles about education which were published in Studies, as well as a number of articles in the Irish Monthly including a number on literary criticism. His article ‘Men speechless’ (Studies, xlvi (autumn 1957)), which set out his philosophy and vision of education, was widely influential. During his years as a teacher he also made an important contribution to the recasting of the national English curriculum for secondary schools. However, his principal contribution as a teacher, and probably his most enduring significance, was where he would have wished it to be – in the classroom itself. A teacher of exceptional insight, ability, and dedication, he inspired in a generation of pupils a capacity for independent thought. His rare understanding of language, and his skill in using it, equipped a great many of his pupils with a greater ability than they could otherwise have had to analyse the spoken and written word, to evaluate ideas, and to express their thoughts effectively.

From 1972 to 2002 he was based at Milltown Park, where his activities included study, research, lecturing, and spiritual direction. He became an authority on the spiritual exercises of St Ignatius, which he directed in Ireland, Britain, and the United States. He lectured on spirituality at the Milltown Institute, gave retreats and conferences in many countries, and was widely regarded as an exceptional spiritual director. From 1976 to 1985, and again from 1986 to 1988, he was director of Jesuits in their tertianship. He spent extensive periods every year at Boston College in the United States.

While based at Milltown Park, he wrote extensively about Ignatian spirituality, including Saint Ignatius speaks about ‘Ignatian prayer’ (St Louis, 1996; published as part of Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits); contributions to three books on the subject; and numerous articles in The Way, Studies, Milltown Studies, Religious Life Review, and The Furrow. In an article (Catholic Herald, 24 Jan. 2003) Anthony Symondson wrote that Joe Veale ‘had a profound understanding of the exercises, went below the surface, and extracted the spirituality from a specific historical interpretation. He emancipated it from an encrusted tradition buried in the nineteenth century and allowed St Ignatius to re-emerge. He strongly resisted the tyranny of ideology.’

Joe Veale also wrote several articles for Interfuse, including ‘Eros’ (no. 102, summer/autumn 1999), and the penetrating and timely article ‘Meditations on abuse . . . ’ (Doctrine and Life (May/June 2000)). He died at Loughlinstown hospital, Co. Dublin, 11 October 2002. Joe Veale's integrity and commitment to seeking the truth in all its paradox and complexity obliged him to have an open mind and encouraged a similar aspiration in very many of those who knew him.

Sunday Independent, 10 Nov. 2002; information from Fr Noel Barber, SJ, rector of Milltown Park, Dublin; personal knowledge

◆ Interfuse

Interfuse No 117 : Special Issue November 2003

Obituary

Fr Joseph (Joe) Veale (1921-2002)

7th March 1921: Born in Dublin
Early education in St. Patrick's, Drumcondra. and CBS Synge Street, Dublin
7th Sept. 1938: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1940: First Vows at Emo
1940 - 1943: Rathfarnham -Studied Arts at UCD
1943 - 1946: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1946 - 1949: Belvedere - Teacher (Regency)
1949 - 1953: Milltown Park -Studied Theology
31" July 1952: Ordained at Milltown Park
1953 - 1954: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1954 - 1962: Gonzaga College - Teacher
1962 - 1963: Sabbatical year
1963 - 1972: Gonzaga - Teacher
1972 - 2002: Milltown Park
1972 - 1973: Assistant Director of Retreat House
1973 - 1976: Study / Research on Spiritual Exercises; Lecturer at Milltown Institute
1976 - 1985: Study / Research on Spiritual Exercises; giving Spiritual Exercises; Lecturer at Milltown; Tertian Instructor
1985 - 1986: Sabbatical - work in US and Africa
1986 - 1988: Tertianship Director
1988 - 2002: Writer; Visiting Lecturer in Milltown; Directed Spiritual Exercises in Ireland, Britain and the USA
11th October 2002: Died at St. Columcille's Hospital, Loughlinstown, Co. Dublin

Whilst visiting a friend in Brittas, Co. Wicklow on 27th August, Fr. Joe developed severe abdominal pains. He was brought to hospital, where he underwent an operation to remove adhesions.

He made slow progress after the operation. A week before his death, he suffered a stroke from which he did not recover.

Two reflections on the life of Joe have already appeared in Interfuse (Christmas 2002 and Easter 2003). The following is the homily preached at his Funeral Mass by Noel Barber.

Joe was born in Dublin 81 years ago. He was the younger of two children with a sister who predeceased him. He was brought up in Drumcondra and then in Ranelagh - prophetically, just outside the back gate of what was to become Gonzaga College. He had a lovely memory of his parents: of never seeming to have wanted anything for themselves, of never being elsewhere.

The family were devout, daily Mass-goers and attended the Lenten Sermons in this Church every year. He went to the Christian Brothers' School, Synge Street. He was happy there, performed well, made life long friends, and left with a high regard for the Brothers and for their teaching.

He entered the Jesuit novitiate in September 1938. When he spoke of his years as a Jesuit student, it was clear that they were not particularly happy. He was an introvert, shy, extremely sensitive and did not relish the rough and tumble of community life. He was never the easiest person to live or work with in the community. Be that as it may, throughout his life he obtained his social sustenance not from unselected colleagues but from his chosen friends. Academically, he was excellent. While some may have been superior in intellectual sharpness, in high seriousness he was without equal.

He taught in Belvedere from 1946 to 1949 and was a magnificent teacher. Even eleven year olds sensed something special about him. Those of us whom he then taught can now see that he was not just a teacher doing his task competently and diligently. It was important for him that we should write well, enjoy poetry, grapple with the demands of English grammar: for him these were not mere tasks for 11 year olds, they were the foundations of a humane life. The impact he made on us in those distant days is shown by the number that still kept contact with him. We all carry something of him with us. I still am unable to use the word “very” without a tremor of guilt and without hearing him say, “Very does not strengthen, it weakens the proposition”.

After his Ordination, he was sent to Gonzaga in 1954 where he taught for 18 years. The school was then considered by many, but not by Gonzaga itself, as Belvedere on the south side. It was young, small, perhaps, a little precious. It was a pioneering venture in Irish education, being relatively free from the exam system. As teacher of English and Religion, he honed his pedagogical skills, sharpened his vision and developed his philosophy of education. His commitment to excellence in thought and expression, his insistence on the highest standards, and the breadth and depth of his intellectual interests made him more than a memorable teacher; he was a profound educator. In those years he won many life-long admirers and friends. In the interest of honesty it must be said that his style alienated a few, and he left a casualty or two on the sideline. I had the good fortune to teach under him for three years. I deeply appreciate what he taught me, and have been ever grateful for his encouragement.

He founded and was in charge of the Gonzaga debating Society. The standard of debating was remarkably high. Participation in the society was an education in itself. On one occasion, I attended a debate against Belvedere on the right to join or not to join a trade union. The Gonzaga team was superb; the Belvedere team, unfortunately, did not approach the debate with Veale-like seriousness and was poor. However from the house there rose a young man who made a witty, irreverent and debunking speech that dragged the debate down to a Belvederian level and swung it in Belvedere's favour. Next morning I asked the great man himself what he thought of the debate. A pained look conveyed that my question was inappropriate. Then he said that the brat who had ruined the debate was going to become a Jesuit. The brat, Bruce Bradley, is concelebrating this Mass.

He exercised a national influence on the teaching of English and was largely responsible for reshaping the English curriculum in Secondary Schools. His widely influential article in Studies in 1957, Men Speechless was a masterpiece in which he made the moral case for Rhetoric and distilled his philosophy and vision of education.

In 1972 he left teaching to study Spirituality, seemingly trading agnostic-leaning adolescents for devout religious. He applied his ability, commitment and seriousness to spirituality as he applied them to his teaching. He became an authority on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Igantius, on the Constitutions of the Jesuits and Ignatian spirituality. He was a highly successful director of Jesuits in their Tertianship, gave conferences and retreats all over the world, was a treasured spiritual director and all the while producing learned articles, all beautifully written. He was a master wordsmith. On Friday, a French review landed on my desk containing a translation of one of his articles.

As a director and counsellor he so cultivated his talent for listening that, it became, with his teaching, his defining characteristic. Many found that listening enormously helpful. I received this letter from a Religious on the day of his death. “Fr. Veale's contribution to the Apostolate of the Spiritual Exercises within my own congregation was immense. His many articles and presentations to audiences around the world bear witness to his wisdom and insight. I am more than grateful than I can state for his friendship, perception, wisdom and encouragement over many years. His interest in the development of my own work in spirituality and theology was a great support. His belief in the work of the Spirit of God within was always life giving". I could quote similar tributes for a long time.

At 81 he was robust and active in writing and directing. I can think of at least two significant recent articles. His room bears witness to work in progress. A small thing, he was making out a new address book. The care that he took with this book was an indication of how much his friends meant to him; I always knew that he meant much to them but in the last weeks the manifestation of this has been overwhelming. The sense of loss expressed by so many underlines the depth of his friendships.

Six weeks ago he walked the strand at Brittas Bay on a beautiful morning with a friend from his Belvedere days, Gerry Donnelly. There is a photo of him taken about an hour before he collapsed. He looks splendid, so young for his years, no sign of the approaching attack. After his operation, there were times when a recovery seemed possible. On several occasions when I visited him, he assured me that he was completely at peace and asked for my blessing. Then came the stroke that swept him away in two days but not without a furious struggle. This was most distressing to observe on that final evening, but how much more distressing it must have been to experience. As so often, the end of life was not splendid, not at all consoling to contemplate. There was the enfeebled body, the confused agitation. These are brute facts but we have to place these facts in the light of Christ's death and resurrection. We believe that when Christ was weakest, most helpless and humiliated, he was at the point of entry into glory. So with Joe Veale; he has moved from his broken state into that place of peace and happiness that was prepared for him from before the foundation of the world. May the good Lord, whom he served so well and at some cost, bless him abundantly.

Interfuse No 114 : Summer 2002

REMEMBERING JOE VEALE

Ross Geoghegan

Ross Geoghegan is Professor of Mathematics at the State University of New York at Binghamton.

Author's Note:
I knew Joe Veale and had regular contact with him from the time I was eleven, when he first walked into my classroom in 1954, until shortly before his death in 2002. I also knew his parents slightly as neighbours. In the latter years he would visit my home in Upstate New York - each year for a long weekend. The 2002 visit was to have begun on October 18. I wrote these impressions on the day he died, 11 October 2002. A much shorter version appeared as an appreciation in the Irish Times on November 4, 2002.

In a sense Joe Veale only arrived in the world at the age of 33. Son of a quiet civil servant and a strong mother, he had finished school at Synge Street, and had entered the Jesuits at seventeen. His degree at UCD was in English - he was a contemporary of Benedict Kiely - but as a clerical student in those days his contact with such young literati must have been limited. He taught for three years in the junior school at Belvedere and followed the usual Jesuit studies.

Joe's first assignment was to teach English and Religious Knowledge at Gonzaga, then a new school where the oldest boys were fourteen (a class was being added each year at the bottom as these "big boys" grew up.) Gonzaga was being touted as an experiment in education. It was to follow a modern version of the old Jesuit ratio studiorum. The school would emphasize Latin and Greek over science, and the boys would take the UCD matriculation in their Fifth Year, thus freeing them for more liberal studies in their Sixth. They would not sit for the Leaving Certificate. These were the general ideas of its very little in the way of an educational philosophy behind the plan. It fell largely to him to fill the vacuum.

In his view the main purpose of education was to make people think and ask questions, even dangerous questions, about why things are as they are, how things might be made better, who benefits from the present set-up and who does not. And along with this was the need to be articulate, so that education was also about learning to speak well and write well. Gonzaga was a relatively expensive school and many of the boys came from well-to-do families. While he did not usually challenge the culture and complacency of upper middle class Dublin explicitly, his encouragement of formal and informal debate challenged the boys to think about their own privileged place in society, He was in fact trying to instil broader ambitions than successful entry into professional clubby Dublin life. He wanted these boys to make a difference, to become leaders who would create a better and more just society. Thus he was seen by critics as a slightly subversive teacher. Not all parents liked what he was doing, especially when a few impressionable boys took his ideas overboard. And indeed not all boys liked it. But in that period Joe acquired a cadre of friends among the boys who would remain his friends for life.

Joe always claimed that he saw little difference between English class and Religious Knowledge class. The latter was interpreted broadly: besides the entirely orthodox official curriculum, he introduced sociology and philosophy at a level which was a challenge to teenagers. Since there were no textbooks for this he wrote his own on densely typed foolscap handouts. In English, he was stern, sometimes almost harsh, in his criticisms of the boys' school essays. He supplemented the official curriculum with authors he admired. In the late fifties he was introducing the older boys to Chaucer, Hopkins and T S Eliot, had them read Cardinal Newman on education, V S Pritchett and F R Leavis on style. At the onset of the Lemass period he believed that economics was THE subject to study. J. period he believed that economics was THE subject to study, J. K. Galbraith's The Affluent Society, had just come out and Joe was recommending it to any boys with the stamina to read it.

This had lasting effect in certain cases.

In those formative years Joe made only one foray into public life. An article entitled "Men Speechless" which he published in Studies in 1957 was influential in educational circles. Later he became a leading figure in the Association of English Teachers and he played a role in the reform of the Department of Education's English curriculum, but that was near the end of his teaching career.

By the early seventies he had burned out, and wanted to leave teaching. The system of university entrance was being changed and there would be no room for the liberal Sixth Year at Gonzaga any more. He moved to Milltown Park and found a new kind of work within the Jesuits as a serious student, eventually a scholar, of Ignatian spirituality. His admiration for what was called the caritas discreta of Ignatius was boundless. I remember him using that phrase in a conversation in 1964; it was clear his serious study of Ignatius had already begun by then. Within the specialized world of people - mostly clerics – willing and able to follow the Spiritual Exercises in their full thirty-day form Joe became a famous director. His articles on Ignatian thought were widely read in those circles, and he was in demand for direction, retreat-giving and panel participation in Britain, Africa and North America. For the rest of his life he was abroad for about half of each year. Indeed, in his last ten years Boston College became his second home and the place where he seemed happiest.

Many of those whose spiritual lives he directed were nuns, and he developed an acute sympathy, even anger, for the way these women had been treated by the Church. Eventually, this anger extended to the treatment of male religious as well. In the awful scandals of child-abusing priests Joe saw one silver lining: he hoped for the collapse of what he called the "Cardinal Cullen Church" (though he did not wish the collapse to be confined to Ireland). He longed for a different kind of Church - communities of faith rooted in the gospels, caring and alive, respectful of all. He wrote a passionate article in Doctrine and Life two years ago about what the experience of religious life was often like: bleak and loveless. He felt this might explain things which could not be excused, but he blamed the hierarchical, narrow-minded and philistine culture of the Church's leadership, both in Ireland and worldwide, for creating this religious hell. He wrote about “private pain ... loneliness ... isolation ... the desert in the heart ... self-hatred ... rage ... having no say in the disposition of one's own life ... the longing for human contact ... touch ... the ache for tenderness and gentleness”. It puzzled him that this article was received in near total silence - even by most of his fellow Jesuits.

At the core of Joe's later thinking was the importance of reflecting on one's own experience. To a layman this seems obvious but in a different time Joe had to find his way there. He often said that the spiritual training he received as a young man was focused on dogma and method; drawing lessons from one's own experience was considered spiritually dangerous and inadmissible in a man of prayer.

Joe's Catholicism appears to have been wholly centered on Christ and the Mass. Whatever his private prayer life may have been, I cannot remember his ever admitting to any "devotion" - not to a saint, not to the Virgin Mary. (His admiration for Ignatius was not a devotion in that pious sense.) Indeed, as Joe got older he became interested in meditation and spirituality, wherever they were to be found, outside as well as inside Christianity. He held Islam in high regard, especially admiring its public prayer. At a conference in America on the relationship between Christian and Buddhist meditation he argued the (unpopular?) view that the gulf between the West and the East was such that “we do not know whether what they are doing and what we are doing are the same or different”. But to Joe the fundamental divide in the world was between those who pray and those who do not. He gleefully described meeting an African Moslem at a party in New Delhi who somehow recognized Joe as another member of that tiny minority who pray - perhaps the only other one in the room.

In his later years Joe enjoyed the little luxuries of food and wine. He invented two cocktails - the Westminster Cathedral and the Westminster Abbey, the second a watered down version of the first. He once told this to Cardinal Hume who appeared either bemused or not amused. For Joe this reaction added to the fun of telling the story.

Joe Veale died at 81, but he never seemed old to his friends. There was always a new idea, a new discovery, a new journey, a new experience. There was so much more he wanted to do.

POSTSCRIPT:
This was not in the original article but, since I am writing for Joe's fellow Irish Jesuits, I have decided to include it. It's an extract from a letter I wrote to another of Joe's close friends - a contemporary of mine - in September 2000. I'll quote my letter precisely as I wrote it then:

An interesting and enjoyable weekend visit from Joe Veale. He's in great form and excellent health for a man who will be EIGHTY in early March. He was a little more forthcoming, though not much, about a memoir he is writing on what it was like to be a celibate cleric in Ireland :in the thirties and the forties and the fifties and the sixties and the sixties and the sixties and the seventies and the eighties and the nineties” (stet - that's exactly how he put it). Whether the world will get to see this memoir I don't know. He says he'll leave a copy with his Provincial when he dies. The P. can do with it what he likes. I think certain others may get a copy - perhaps one other... Last year I asked him if he would show it to me and was told most certainly not. This year he showed me a two-page extract. Everything with Joe is a bit breathless, and as you can imagine the extract wasn't as shocking as the billing had led me to expect. It was an interesting few paragraphs, not on celibacy itself but on the feeling of self-worthlessness that he experienced as a young man as a result of receiving no praise from his superiors for his efforts as a teacher. I'm talking about his Belvedere days. He admits he developed self-confidence during the years we were taught by him. His written description of what this was like is dignified but rather sad for what it said about the monstrously unloving male institutions of the time. It starts, “I have been asked what could be meant by ‘By the year 1954 when I was assigned to teach in Gonzaga College my feeling of unworth was almost complete’”.

Interfuse No 115 : Easter 2003

A MAN WHO EMBODIED THE SPIRIT OF ST IGNATIUS : Joe Veale

Anthony Symnondson

Anthony is a member of the British Province. He wrote this article originally for the Catholic Herald, January 24, 2003. It is reprinted here with permission.

Four of the happiest years of my life were spent in Dublin in 1991-5. I was sent to study at the Milltown Institute of Philosophy and Theology in Ranelagh and lived in the Jesuit community. Ireland was an entirely new and captivating experience. I regarded myself as a foreigner living overseas in a strange, unfamiliar land and made a resolution never to discuss politics, or jump to simplistic conclusions, and see as much of Ireland as possible.

This is a solipsistic start to a tribute to a valued friend, but Fr Joseph Veale SJ, would have appreciated a context and he did much to make me feel welcome. We occupied rooms on the same corridor and although he was shy and retiring and was rarely to be found sparkling at a haustus, we quickly came to know each other. He was insecure in large groups and sometimes found community life trying. Joe's hallmarks were an attractive and unforced holiness, discipline, humanity, and wide culture. He embodied the spirit of St Ignatius at its best and most authentic.

Joe came from a generation that usually entered the novitiate of the Society of Jesus through Jesuit schools. He was born in Dublin in 1921 and was educated at the Christian Brothers' School in Synge Street. He joined the Society at the age of seventeen in 1938. When he taught as a scholastic at Belvedere College his pupils noticed how much kinder and more approachable he was than some others who had come through the system. This was a characteristic that never left him resulted in vocations.

Joe was an inspired schoolmaster and spent eighteen years teaching at Gonzaga College on the South Side of Dublin. He believed that expression was more important than exams, and approached his pupils with high seriousness ameliorated by an interest in the individual. Fr Noel Barber, the Rector of Milltown, who had himself been taught by him at Belvedere, said at his funeral: “As a teacher of English and Religion, he honed his pedagogical skills, sharpened his vision, and developed his philosophy of education. His commitment to excellence in thought and expression, his insistence on the highest standards, , and the breadth and depth of his intellectual interests made him more than a memorable teacher; he was a profound educator”.

Joe believed that the demands of English grammar were not mere tasks but the foundation of a humane life. He contributed to the reform of the Irish Department of Education's English curriculum. I owe him an unexpected debt. Although I had written for years, I was never much good at it. I had composed a dense article for the Irish Arts Review and, after it had been censored by Fr Fergus O'Donoghue, he suggested I showed it to Joe. When it was returned it was transformed, covered in corrections in red ink with helpful notes in the margin, and two pages of analysis showing where I had gone wrong and how it could be improved. It was turned from a tedious slab of detail into prose. I don't know how the spell worked, but from then onwards I realised that I had been taught to write.

In 1972 Joe moved to research and writing in the Spiritual Exercises and the Jesuit Constitutions and he lectured in spirituality at the Milltown Institute. This was not merely an academic exercise but came to embody some of the most valuable work of his life. Joe was a realist and would not undertake tasks that were beyond his powers. If he discovered that he had done so, his professionalism led him to put them aside. He had a profound understanding of the Exercises, went below the surface, and extracted the spirituality from a specific historical interpretation. He emancipated it from an encrusted tradition buried in the nineteenth century and allowed St Ignatius to re-emerge. He strongly resisted the tyranny of ideology. It is planned to found a lectureship in spirituality in the Institute and publish two volumes of selected works in spirituality and culture. They deserve a wide circulation.

Joe was much sought as a friend, confessor, spiritual director and retreat conductor, and he gave the Exercises all over the world. He was an encourager and had the rare gift of investing others with a sense of personal value. But he had few illusions, and wrote and directed with unusual honesty. In a penetrating article published in Doctrine and Life at the height of the abuse scandals in the Irish Church, he controversially lifted the curtain on some diminishing characteristics of the religious life that he had perceived and experienced in his own life and that of others. “Can we imagine, just imagine, what private pain may have been rooted in a complex of loneliness, of isolation, of having no human being to relate to, the desert in the heart, the language of self-denial that twisted into self abasement, the self-hatred, the conviction of worthlessness, the unattended guilt, the rage at being done to, the having no say in the disposition of one's own life, the indignities of impersonal rule, the comfort of dependency that could suddenly reverse into angry rebellion, the living environment that was Spartan, the lack of amenity, the walls denuded of beauty, the 'spiritual' assumptions that dehumanised? And the longing for human contact for touch, for talk, for being listened to, the unavailability of spiritual direction, the ache for tenderness or gentleness?” Only a man open to God could make such admissions. Joe's holiness was forged by the cross. It gave him empathy with others similarly afflicted, and offered hope.

None of this struggle showed outwardly. He enjoyed the theatre and the cinema and could draw metaphysical themes from the unlikeliest sources. He was a delightful companion on expeditions. He looked forward to his annual visits to Boston College where he was eagerly expected. At the end of his life he discovered Africa and India, and was, hopefully, inspired by their vigorous Catholic life. Joe did not grow old. Christ shone through him, and his influence is lasting.

Born: 31 October 1824, Naas, County Kildare
Entered: 26 October 1847, Toulouse, France - Lugdunensis Province (LUGD)
Ordained: 1859
Final Vows: 02 February 1868
Died: 20 October 1901, Mungret College, County Limerick

by 1857 at St Beuno’s, Wales (ANG) Studying Theology
by 1859 at Vals, France (TOLO) Studying Theology
by 1864 at Tournai, Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1865 in East Hardwick, Yorkshire, England - St Michael’s Leeds (ANG)
by 1866 at Church of the Assumption, Chesterfield, England - Mount St Mary’s (ANG)
by 1872 at St Ignatius, Bournemouth (ANG) working
by 1873 at Skipton, Yorkshire - St Michaels (ANG) studying
by 1875 at St Beuno’s Wales, Rhyl Parish (ANG) working
by 1882 at Beaumont (ANG) studying

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
After First Vows he was sent to Clongowes for Regency as Prefect of Discipline. He seems to have been a great success. He was a strong man, and was both liked and feared.
1856 He was sent to the South of France.
1857 He did First year Theology at St Beuno’s, 2nd at Nth Frederick St Dublin, and his 3rd at Vals. He told many funny stories about his living experiences in Dublin and Vals.
After Ordination he was sent to teach at Clongowes.
1862-1864 He was sent to teach at Belvedere, and then made his Tertianship the following year.
1865-1867 He was sent on the Scottish Mission, and also on the Preston Mission.
1867-1872 He was sent as Minister to Tullabeg.
1872 He was sent back on the English Mission, first to Skipton, Yorks, and then to Rhyl in Wales, where he took charge of a Jesuit Church and Parish for 10 years (1873-1883). He did a good job in Rhyl, and was engaged with Catholics and Protestants alike there, with a genial and cheerful disposition.
1883 The latter years of his life were spent at Tullabeg, Dromore, Gardiner St and finally Mungret until his death there 20 October 1901. Though only a short time confined to bed, he seemed convinced of his impending death. he suffered a lot in his final hours, bot bore it with great patience. The night before he died he said “Do you know, I am not a bit afraid of death”. In his last hours, though in pain, he prayed continuously. After he received the Last Rites on the morning of 20/10, he immediately became unconscious, and the he died peacefully.
Those who knew “Charlie” never forgot the sudden “flashes of merriment” that would have any gathering in fits of laughter. “He possessed the keenest good humour and greatest good nature”. Even at his last, his humour did not fail him, even as he lay suffering. I translating the old French Ballad “Griselidis et Sire Gaultier”, critics considered the far-famed Father Prout. He was an accomplished French Scholar, with an almost perfect accent, drawing praise from no less a French Jesuit Preacher Père Gustave Delacroix de Ravignan. he was also considered to have an old world charm which complemented his sense of humour.

Underneath the sophistication, he was a simple man of deep piety, who suffered at times from little depressive bouts.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Charles Walshe 1826-1901
On October 20th 1901 died Fr Charles Walshe, aged 75 and having lived 54 years in the Society. Born in 1826 he was educated at Clongowes, and entered the Society in 1847.

His early years as a Jesuit were spent in Clongowes, both as a Prefect and Master. He was one of those who studied Theology at the short-lived House of Studies in North Frederick Street Dublin.

He spent many years on the missions in Scotland and England, in Preston, Skipton and Rhyl. He spent the closing years of his life in Mungret.

“He possessed” writes one who knew him well “the keenest humour and the greatest good nature”. His taste in literary matters was most refined. His translation of the old French ballad “Griselidis at Sire Gaultier” not merely rivalled, but surpassed in beauty and elegance of diction, that of the far-famed “Father Prout”. He was an accomplished French scholar and was congratulated on his perfect pronunciation in that language by the famous preacher Père de Ravignan.

The hours immediately preceding his death were hours of intense pain, which he bore with patient fortitude and resignation. The night before he died, speaking to one of the Fathers, he remarked “Do you know, I do not feel a bit afraid of death”. Having received the Extreme Unction, he became unconscious, and shortly afterwards passed peacefully to his eternal rest, having spent his last hours in close and fervent union with God.

◆ The Clongownian, 1902

Obituary

On October 20th, at Mungret College, Limerick, the holy and happy death of Father Charles Walshe SJ, took place. He had just completed his Seventy-fifth year, and had spent fifty-four years in religion.

Fr Walshe vas the son of an army surgeon, who, when he retired from the service, enjoyed a large practice at Naas, and became one of the most popular and best known men in the County Kildare. At the age of fourteen Father Walshe came to Clongowes as a boy, and in 1847, when he had completed his course of studies, he entered the Society. Before his Theological studies, which he went through in the south of France, and at St Bueno's in Wales, he had been Prefect and Master in his Alma Mater. After his ordination he again returned to Clongowes, but does not appear to have been stationed long there as in 1862 he was on the staff at Belvedere College, and in 1865 and 1866 he was on the missions in England. The next year he returned to Ireland and was appointed Minister at Tullabeg.

For ten years (1873-83) Father Walshe was in charge of the church and residence of the Society at Rhyl, North Wales, where he did much good work. His genial disposition and kindly good nature won for him a host of friends, and enabled him to exercise an influence for good over the somewhat floating population of the town, both Catholic and Protestant, that few could hope to have attained. He was subsequently stationed at Tullabeg, Dromore and Limerick, and in 1894 he went to .Mungret, where he spent the closing years of his career. God tried him towards the end with many sufferings that served, no doubt, to purify his soul and prepare him for the happy, holy death, that put the seal upon a life of fifty-four years spent in the Society.

◆ The Mungret Annual, 1901

Obituary

Fr Charles Walshe SJ

On the 20th October the holy and happy death of Fr Charles Walshe took place. He had just completed the seventy-fifth year of his age and the fifty-fourth of his religious life; having been born, been received into the Society, and died in the month of October. Though he was for only a comparatively short time confined to his bed before his death, he seems to have been convinced of his approaching end. The hours immediately preceding it were hours of great, pain which he bore with patient fortitude and resignation. The night before he died, speaking to one of the fathers, he remarked, “Do you know, I do not feel a bit afraid of death”. As the hours of darkness wore slowly on, and the intensity of his pain increased, he prayed continually, in a manner, that, says one who was present, “was most touching and edifying”, repeating the Sacred Names with a continuity, and an intensity of feeling, that bespoke the fervour of the heart within. In the early grey of the October morning he received the Extreme Unction, and almost immediately became unconscious. A little afterwards he passed calmly and peacefully to his eternal rest, having spent his last hours in close and fervent union with God.

In Father Walshe, or “Father Charlie”, as we loved to call him, we have lost as kindly, and as genial a spirit as ever lived. Who is there that knew him, that can ever forget what Shakespeare calls the sudden “flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table in a roar”? To few indeed, may Hamlet's description more justly be applied, He was, in truth, a man of “infinite wit, of most excellent fancy”. “He possessed", writes one who knew him well, “the keenest humour, and the greatest good nature”. Even to the last his fund of humour never failed him, Despite the grim approach of death, and the grievous sufferings that so sorely tried him, the witty word would drop at times, one would almost say. unwittingly, from his lips.

Yet, underneath it all there was the simple, child-like piety, and the solid virtue deeply seated in the heart, that marks the genuine son of St Ignatius. For many years before his death he was, like most men of remarkably keen humour, a victim to occasional depression of spirits, and this, together with the physical suffering arising from extremely feeble health, afforded him no trifling occasion of practising patience and amassing merit.

Father Walshe was born on the 13th Oct., 1826. His father, who had been an army Surgeon, settled later on in Naas, in the County Kildare, where he had a large practice, and was one of the most popular and best known men in the county, On leaving Clongowes, where he was educated, young Charles Walshe entered the Society in October, 1847, at the age of twenty-one.

Shortly after finishing his novitiate he was, in 1851, appointed Prefect of Discipline in his Alma Mater. As Prefect he seems to have been a great success. He was pre-eminently a strong man, and the boys liked as well as feared him. The year 1856 he spent in the South of France. His Theological studies seem to have been rather interrupted. The first year (1857) was spent at St Beuno's in North Wales, the second in the House of Studies at Frederick Street, Dublin, and the rest in Vals. Many were the witty anecdotes and laughable adventures that he had to tell about his residence in these two latter places.

On the completion of his Theology, Father Walshe went, first as Prefect and then as Master, to Clongowes. In the summer of 1862 he was transferred to Belvedere, where he remained as Professor till his Tertianship. The years 1865 and 1866, following his years of Third Probation, found him on the mission in Scotland, and then in Preston. In 1867 he was Minister in Tullabeg. In 1872 he returned to the English missions, first in Skipton, and then the following year in Rhyl, where he remained in charge of the handsome little church and residence of the Jesuit Fathers of the English Province for the next ten years (1873-'83). In Rhyl Father Walshe did excellent work. His genial disposition and kindly good nature won for him a host of friends, and enabled him to exercise an influence for good over the somewhat floating population of the town, both Catholic and Protestant, that few could hope to have attained. The latter years of his life were spent between Tullabeg, Dromore, and Gardiner Street, till finally he came to Mungret in the year 1894. Here, as has been seen, he spent the closing years of his career. God tried him towards the end with many sufferings, that served, no doubt, to purify his soul and prepare him for the happy, holy death that put the seal upon a life of fifty-four years spent in the Society.

Father Walshe possessed intellectual qualifications of a high order. His taste in literary matters was most refined. His translation of the old French Ballad of “Griselidis et Sir Gaultier”, not merely rivalled, but, in the opinion of competent critics, much surpassed in beauty and elegance of diction that of the far-famed “Father Prout”. He was an accomplished French scholar, and was congratulated on his perfect pronunciation of that language by a critic no less exacting than the famous Jesuit preacher, Père de Ravignan. To refinement of intellect he added in a rather remarkable degree refinement and elegance of manner. The old world courtesy of manner, that adds such a charm to social life, sat so naturally upon him that it seemed inherent in his nature. With “Father Charlie” has passed away one of the few survivors of another age, and of another order of ideas, whose lives are as a precious link between us : and the past. May he rest in everlasting peace!

J McD

Born: 02 September 1893, Alexander Avenue, Belfast, County Antrim
Entered: 07 September 1912, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1926, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 2 February 1929. Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 12 June 1972, Galway Regional Hospital, Galway

Part of the Coláiste Iognáid, Galway community at the time of death

Father is an Officer in Customs and Excise, and lives at Iona Road, Drumcondra, Dublin.

Only son with one sister.

aka Ciaran Mac an Bhaird; Kyran Ward

Educated at Christian Brothers School Belfast he then went to O’Connell’s Schools for four years. In 1910 he went to Belvedere College SJ

by 1917 at St Aloysius, Jersey Channel Islands (FRA) studying
by 1928 at St Beuno’s, St Asaph, Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 47th Year No 3 1972

St Ignatius College, Galway
News has just come of Father Ward's death, after a very short illness, in the Regional Hospital, on the morning of June 12th. He was on the threshold of celebrating his 60th year in the Society.
The Concelebrated Requiem Mass on 14th June was in Irish. Fr O'Shea (nephew) was the First Concelebrant, assisted by Fr Provincial and Fr Rector, Fourteen priests took part in the Concelebrated Mass, many of them old friends of Fr Ward from other houses. Ar láimh dheis Dé go raibh a anam.

Obituary :
Fr Ciarán Mac an Bháird SJ (1893-1972)
Fr Ward died in Galway Regional Hospital after a brief illness on Monday, the 12th June, in his 79th year.
His father, Timothy, was a Galway man, but Fr Ward was born in Belfast, where he attended St. Patrick's Christian Brothers School. He completed his secondary education at Belvedere College, Dublin, and entered the Noviceship in Rahan, Tullamore, just sixty years ago in the 7th September, 1912.
After his studies in Rathfarnham he went to Jersey for Philosophy. Owing to the war and danger of conscription he was transferred to Milltown Park to complete the last year of Philosophy, after which he taught in Clongowes from 1919 to 1923. He then returned to Milltown Park for theology and was ordained in 1926. He finished his studies in St Beuno's College, North Wales, and then returned to Clongowes to teach there for three years.
In 1931 he was transferred to the Sacred Heart College, Limerick. He proved himself a very efficient teacher especially in Irish, French and Latin. In addition to this he was Assistant Prefect of Studies, Master of Ceremonies and Minister. As Master of Ceremonies he had charge of the Mass Servers whom he trained with very special care and attention. Many of the congregation commented on the devotion and reverence of the boys under his care.
He was also keenly interested in Drama and produced operettas each year in Irish for Prize Day. He had a special gift of being able to communicate his own personal talent as an actor to the boys he chose for his plays. In addition to all this work he organised each summer groups of boys to spend Irish-speaking holidays in the Kerry Gaeltacht at Ballyferriter and Baile na nGall. In all these activities Fr E Andrews was his ever faithful associate as later in Galway where they again combined energies.
He came to Galway in September 1941 and for 21 years, in addition to full teaching work, he was Adj Pref Studies and Master of Ceremonies in the Church. In this latter work he maintained the high standard of training of Mass Servers which he had reached in the Crescent.
He also continued his former interest in Musical Drama and produced Operettas in Irish each year for prize day. His Drama Groups won many first places at the Féile Drámaíochta in the Taibhdhearc. Many of those dramas he translated from French into Irish.
He carried on Fr Ó Brolcháin's work of training the boys in Irish dancing and his groups won prizes for their four-hand reels,
He was marked down in the Catalogue as “Doc an. 48” and all these years he was completely dedicated to this work. With his great gifts he was a man of singular reserve and self-effacement.
His special interest in promoting the use of Irish as a spoken language in the College had remarkable results and an Inspector from the Department commented on this as a remarkable achievement.
Fr Ward, despite the reserve alluded to, was a very pleasant companion and excellent Community man; a ripe sense of humour enabled him to enter into the cajolery of recreation and with such company as Fr C Perrott, Fr A O'Reilly, Fr Fitzgibbon and Fr Cashman the time passed regularly in even an hilarious fashion. This same bonhomie entered into his dealings with the boys, pupils and altar-servers. He gained their confidence and would recount on occasions quiz-questions and stories he had picked up in their company. He was devoted to his work and could not suffer it to be scamped but even then he would have a laughable encounter to tell about, something he had wormed out of an uncommunicative culprit who was awed by the mock-severity of his teacher's approach.
During the last few years of his life he suffered much from arthritis, but he bore it all in heroic fashion without complaint. Such was his devotion to his work that he won the admiration of parents and boys, who will remember for many years his unselfish devotion to their interests.
The Mayor and Corporation of Galway sent a letter of sympathy to Fr Rector and Community on his death. Ar dheis Dé go raibh & anam.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1972

Obituary

Father Kyran Ward SJ :

The death occured in Galway in mid-June of Father Kyran Ward, S.J., after a short illness,

Father Ward, who was 78, had been a member of the teaching staff of Coláiste Iognáid since 1941 and had continued to teach there right up to his last illness. He was a talented and devoted teacher of Latin and French. In all, he had been teaching for 48 years, at Clongowes Wood College, Cresent College, Limerick, and Galway,

In Limerick and Galway he produced many school operattas and plays. His drama groups carried off many prizes at the Féile Dramaíochta at the Taibhdhearc in Galway. Several plays had been translated into Irish from the French by himself.

Fr Ward had been in Belfast, where he attended St Patrick's Christian Brother School. The family having moved to Dublin, he came to Belvedere, finishing here in 1912. In September of that year he entered the Jesuits at St Stanislaus' College, Rahan, He studies at Rathfarnham Castle from 1914 till 1916 before travelling to Jersey to study philosophy. On completing his course of philosophy at Milltown Park, he taught at Clongowes from 1919 till 1923. He then returned to Milltown Park for theology and was ordained there in 1926. Fr Ward finished his studies at St Beuno's College, North Wales.

He returned to Clongowes to teach there for three years before being appointed in 1931 to Crescent College, Limerick, where he was Vice-Rector. He remained at the Crescent for ten years before his final appointment to Galway

To his sister, Mrs J B O'Shea; his neice, Mrs Tony Byrne; and his nephew, Fr Maurice O'Shea CC, Artane, Dublin, we offer our sincere sympathy.

Born: 31 May 1935, Griffith Avenue, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1953, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 10 July 1968, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1975, St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street
Died: 22 February 2011, St Mary Star of the Sea, Key West, Florida, USA

Part of the Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death

Nephew of Eugene - RIP 1976

Father was a businessman.

Second of six boys with two sisters.

Educated at Coláiste Mhuire, Parnell Square for six years and then at Clongowes Wood College SJ for six years.

by 1971 at USF San Francisco, USA (CAL) studying
by 1972 at St Michael’s Bronx NY, USA (NEB) studying

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/seamus-ward-rip/

Seamus Ward RIP
Seamus Ward SJ passed away in Florida yesterday, 22 February. He was staying at St. Mary, Star of The Sea Church, Florida. Earlier, he had had a fall away from the house on 18th February and broken his femur. He was badly shaken and was hospitalised. The doctors advised that he was unlikely to recover. He needed a breathing machine. Fr Conall O’Cuinn, Rector of Milltown Park, and Eoghan, a nephew of Seamus, travelled to the USA on Tuesday 22nd and were met at the airport and taken straight to the hospital. They were waiting for them before removing the breathing machine. There was time for prayers and singing Ag Criost an Siol and Soul of My Saviour. Seamus died very quietly and peacefully about 15 minutes later. May he rest in Christ’s Peace!

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/burying-seamie-2/

Burying Seamie
There was something astonishing about the obsequies of Fr Seamus Ward, whose death was reported in the last AMDG Express. Within the Irish Province he had a low profile,
partly because of his wretched health. He had taught in Bolton Street DIT, and served the Jesuit Refugee Service in Africa. Fr Tom Layden wrote of his “pioneering spirit, inquiring mind and independence of outlook”: a kind man, with an attitude of welcome and encouragement for those around him. He worked out of weakness, a real pastoral asset with which people could identify. His two funerals, one in Florida where he served a parish, the other in Gonzaga chapel, were memorable events, crowded with his kith and kin and friends who loved him and grieved deeply. In death as in life Seamus could spring a surprise.

◆ Interfuse No 145 : Summer 2011 & ◆ The Clongownian, 2011

Obituary

Fr Séamus (Seamie) Ward (1935-2011)

31st May 1935: Born in Dublin
Early education at Clongowes Wood College
7th Sept. 1953: Entered the Society at Emo
8th September 1955: First Vows at Emo
1955 - 1958: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1958 - 1961: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1961 - 1964: Belvedere College - Teacher
1964 - 1968: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
10th July 1968: Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1968 - 1969: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1969 - 1970: Rathfarnham - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
1970 - 1972: Fordham, USA-Studied Sociology; Assisted in Holy Family Parish, NY
1972 - 1974: Rathfarnham - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
1974 - 1978: John Austin House - Chaplain in DIT Bolton Street
2nd February 1975: Final Vows
1978 - 1979: Campion House - Chaplain in DIT
1979 - 1982: Rathfarnham - Curate in Wicklow parish
1982 - 1985: Dolphin's Barn - Parish Curate
1985 - 1986: Clongowes - Sabbatical year
1986 - 1988: Clongowes - Assistant Librarian
1988 - 1989: Ethiopia - Jesuit Refugee Service
1989 - 1991: Belvedere College - Refugee work: Cairo, JRS Rome and Ethiopia
1991 - 1992: Working with refugees in Sierra Leone and Somalila
1992 - 1994: Working with refugees in Mali
1994 - 2005: Belvedere College - Pastoral care of refugees.
2005 - 2011: Milltown Park - Parish Chaplaincy, USA
22nd February 2011: Died in Florida USA

Fr Seamus was at St. Mary, Star of The Sea Church, Florida. He had a fall away from the house on 18th February and broke his femur. He was badly shaken and was hospitalised. The doctors advised that he was unlikely to recover. He needed a breathing machine. Fr Conall O Cuinn, Rector of Milltown Park, and a nephew of Seamus’, Eoghan, travelled to the USA on Tuesday 22nd and were met at the airport and taken straight to the hospital. They were waiting for them before removing the breathing machine. There was time for prayers and singing Ag Críost an Siol and Soul of My Saviour. Seamus died very quietly and peacefully about 15 minutes later. May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

Obituary by Brendan Duddy and Noel Barber
Seamie Ward was one of 8 children. He had 5 brothers and 2 sisters who were at the heart of his life. He had a marvellous relationship with his siblings and with their children. I got to know him during our time in UCD. When I arrived in Rathfarnham, he took me under his wing and showed me the ropes. The regime was tight and he found the rules of the house somewhat oppressive but he did not take them too seriously. We all felt that we did not have enough time for study; most of us accepted this state of affairs but he did not. He would put his umbrella over his bedside lamp and read through Troilus and Cressida into the night. Serious would have been his fate had he been caught. While others dutifully made off on bikes on special free days, he usually had other ideas, bringing me on one occasion to the Shelbourne Hotel where his father awaited us and ordered toast in a magnificent silver bowl and coffee laced with brandy.

In days when it was presumed that one had to avoid any reading of material that was not 'wholesome', he had the nerve to borrow Joyce's Ulysses in the ritual brown paper bag which the kind librarian passed surreptitiously under the counter, On more regular lines he introduced me to O'Casey's plays and to Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. He took a good degree in English, enjoyed the literary delights that were on offer and ignored what was not to his taste. There was an iconoclastic side to him which to some looked as if he saw all authority as authoritarian. There was a shyness which he concealed with a brusqueness that could be disconcerting but he was true gold as a friend. Philosophy in Tullabeg followed where the isolated life did not entirely suit him and literature rather than philosophy captured his interest but doing what was necessary he got through without much effort albeit with little joy but used his time to indulge his literary tastes and to make many excursions, licit and illicit. I then went to Zambia and he to Belvedere where an observer noted that he showed remarkable administrative talents as an assistant to the Prefect of Studies, the formidable Jack Leonard, whose approval and fulsome praise he won. He proved to be a severe disciplinarian and an exacting task master who exercised his authority with a firm hand. However, he won the admiration of the pupils if not their lasting affection. It was noticeable that a number of middle aged men turned up to his funeral – his former pupils from his Belvedere days; they remembered him with something approaching reverence.

His years in Theology were not entirely happy and a contemporary of his considered that his attitude towards authority hardened and he ended up asking to have his ordination postponed to the end of his fourth year. Following his Tertianship in 1968-69 he spent one year in the Dublin Institute of Theology, Bolton Street, before going to Fordham where he took an MA in Sociology. He then returned to Bolton Street where he remained until 1979. I worked with him there and once again he was my mentor and guide. He introduced me to all sorts of people: porters, sweepers, electricians, cooks, his friends in Sean Mc Dermot Street where I became life-long friends with his friends. With these people he was Newman's Perfect Gentleman at ease with all and generous with his time and energy to a fault. He took particular care of foreign students helping them to find their feet. He then spent 3 years (1979-82) as a curate in Wicklow. There he was wonderful with the children, the old folks and with pre-marriage couples. For recreation he took to the joys of sailing, most often with his brother. He moved to Dolphin's Barn in 1982 where he had three not very happy years. He became somewhat restless and spent a few years in Clongowes during which he was unfocused and dispirited.

Then he opened up a new life for himself with the Jesuit Refugee Service from 1988 to 1994. He served in Cairo, Ethiopia, Sierra Leone, Somalia and Mali. A person who knew him well in his JRS days commented on his remarkable ability to live in the most austere circumstances, and to accept the hardship and isolation of his assignments without complaint, his great love and devotion to the poor and the weak and the excessive physical demands he made on himself. On the other hand it was noted that for one of his ability and sterling work he lacked self-confidence to a surprising degree and showed that below the surface there could be strong anger which would occasionally flare.

In 1994 he returned to live in Belvedere as a sick man in the grip of severe emphysema but he found a modus vivendi. To avoid the wet, cold Irish winter he began to do supply parish work in California and then Florida where he flourished as he did in Wicklow years before. He devoted himself to the poor and the weak; he gave of his time and people took the chance to pour out their hearts to him and he listened, gave sound advice and became the wise old man.

In the midst of his successful apostolate, he had a fall, went into hospital where, because of his underlying condition, an operation was out of the question. Inevitably he took a bad turn and died quietly and peacefully. As a Jesuit, he was not prominent and was never well known in the Province but despite his difficult middle years and the poor health of his later years he achieved a great deal at the frontiers.

Born: 17 January 1848, Carrick, Mullingar, County Westmeath
Entered: 07 September 1866, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 1883, Tortosa, Spain
Final Vows: 02 February 1888
Died: 28 October 1913, St Francis Xavier's, Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin

Early education at St Mary’s College, Mullingar and St Stanislaus College SJ, Tullabeg

by 1869 at Amiens France (CAMP) studying
by 1870 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1872 at Toulouse College (TOLO) health
by 1877 at Laval France (FRA) studying
by 1880 at Aix-en-Provence, France (LUGD) studying
by 1881 at Dertusanum College Spain (ARA) studying

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Account from Freeman’s Journal of 29 October 1913 "
“The hand of death has been severely felt of late within the ranks of the Society of Jesus in Dublin. During a period of slightly over twelve months a number of the best known and most distinguished members of that body have passed to their reward after long service in the sacred cause of religion and Christian charity. The list includes such revered names as Matt Russell, Nicholas Walsh, James Walshe, and more recently John Bannon and Henry Lynch. It is now our duty to record the death of another well-known member of the Order in the person of Rev Thomas Wheeler SJ, who died after a long and tedious illness at Gardiner St.
He was born in Mullingar 17 January 1848. His elder brother, Rev James Wheeler, was PP of Stamullen. His younger brother was the lamented Dominican Joseph Wheeler, who predeceased him some years. His uncle was the Most Rev Dr James Carbery OP, at one time Bishop of Hamilton, Canada. His cousin Most Rev Dr James Murray OSA, is the present Bishop of Cookstown, Australia.
Educated at Mullingar and Tullabeg, he entered the Society at a young age. his higher studies were carried on in France - Philosophy at Louvain, and Theology at Tortosa in Spain. he completed his studies in Belgium. On returning to Ireland he was put to the field of education, and taught the higher classes at Clongowes, Tullabeg, Belvedere and Crescent. During these years he was rector of Belvedere, and Vice-President of UCD. In addition to his marked qualities as an educator, he had a facile pen, and gave many valuable contributions to the literature of his day. When Matt Russell died, he was chosen to succeed him as Editor of the “Irish Monthly” - a publication dear to the heart of its founder and to a circle of close personal friends and literary admirers. Under Thomas’ guidance it continued to fulfill worthily the aims and ideas for the propagation of which it was started, and continued to be in the fullest sense a high-class, well-written periodical full of information on subjects of deep interest to Irish Catholic readers.
Latterly, however, Father Wheeler’s health had begun to give way, and during the last few months he had been suffering from a rather severe breakdown.”

Note from Charles O’Connell Sr Entry
William E Kelly, Superior at Hawthorn, says in a letter 09 April 1912 to Thomas Wheeler “Poor Father Charlie was on his way from his room to say the 8 o’clock Mass, when a few yards from his room he felt faint and had a chair brought to him. Thomas Claffey, who had just returned from saying Mass at the Convent gave him Extreme Unction. Thomas Gartlan and I arrived, and within twenty minutes he had died without a struggle. The evening before he had been seeing some sick people, and we have since learned complained of some heart pain. Up to the last he did his usual work, taking everything in his turn, two Masses on Sundays, sermons etc, as the rest of us. We shall miss him very much as he was a charming community man.

Note from Henry M Lynch Entry
Note his obituary of Henry M Lynch in that Entry. Henry Lynch accompanied Thomas Wheeler when the latter was going for a severe operation to Leeds. When he returned before Thomas, he became unwell himself.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973
Father Thomas Wheeler SJ 1848-1913
Fr Thomas Wheeler was born near Mullingar on 17th January 1848.

He came of a very distinguished ecclesiastical family. His older brother was a Parish priest in Stamullen, a younger brother was a Dominican, an uncle was Dr Carbery, Bishop of Hamilton, Canada, while his cousin was Dr Murphy, Bishop of Cookstown Australia.

Fr Thomas entered the Society at an early age and taught the higher classes in Clongowes, Tullabeg, Belvedere and Limerick. He was rector of Belvedere and Vice-President of University College, St Stephen’s Green.

Having done some of his early studies in Spain, he was a good Spanish scholar, and was appointed Spanish examiner in the Royal University. He succeeded Fr Matt Russell as editor of “The Irish Monthly”. Under his guidance it continued to fulfil the aims and ideas for which it was founded.

He died after a long and tedious illness, cheerfully borne, on October 29th 1913.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1914

Obituary

Father Thomas Wheeler SJ

It is our painful duty to record the death of the Rev Thomas Wlieeler, which took place at the Presbytery, Upper Gardiner Street, some time ago.

The deceased was born near Mullingar in 1848, and joined the Society of Jesus at an early age. His course of studies was a long one, during which he travelled much in France, Belgium, and Spain. A man of marked ability, a distinguished scholar, an able linguist, he taught the higher classes in Clongowes, Tullabeg and Limerick. He was at one time Rector of Belvedere, and for many years Vice-President of University College, St. Stephen's Green. Notwithstanding his poor health during the last twelve months of his life, he continued to devote himself to his confessional, and was always eager to help and befriend others. A convincing preacher, he also had a facile pen, and succeeded Fr Father Russell as editor of The Irish Monthly. RIP

◆ The Clongownian, 1914

Obituary

Father Thomas Wheeler SJ

It is our painful duty to record the death of another well-known member of the Society Jesus in the person of the Rev Thoma Wheeler, who died yesterday (October 28th) after a long and tedious illness, at the Presbytery, Upper Gardiner Street. Father Wheeler was born near Mullingar, Co Westmeath, the 17th January, 1848. His elder broth Very Rev James Wheeler, was PP of Stamullen; his younger brother was the lamented Father Joseph Wheeler, of the Order of Preachers, who predeceased him some years ago. His uncle was the Most Rev Dr Carbery OP, at one time Bishop of Hamilton, Canada. His cousin, Most Rev Dr Murray OSA, is the present Bishop of Cooktown, Australia.

Educated at Mullingar and at Tullabeg College, he entered the Society of Jesus at an early age. His higher studies were carried on in France - his Philosophy course being studied at Louvain, and his course in Theology at Tortosa, in Spain. He completed his training in the House of the Order in Belgium, at the close of a brilliant scholastic career. On his return to his native land he was, by direction his Superiors, almost at once placed in close touch with the educational interests which the members of the Society of Jesus are known to have so much at heart in Ireland, as in the other countries where their Missions flourish. In pursuance of his duties in his new sphere of activity Father Wheeler taught for any years the higher classes in Clongowes, in Tullabeg, in Belvedere, and in Limerick Colleges, filling during that period of his career many important offices--amongst them, those of Rector of Belvedere College, and Vice-President of University College, St Stephen's Green. In addition to his marked qualities as an educationalist he had a facile pen, and gave many valuable contributions to the literature of his day.

When Father : Matt Russell died, Father Wheeler was chosen to succeed him in the editorship of the “Irish Monthly” - a publication which was dear to the heart of its sainted founder and long time editor, as it was also to the hearts of a wide circle of close personal friends and literary admirers. Under the guidance of Father Wheeler the “Irish Monthly” continued to fulfil worthily the aims and ideas for the propagation of what it was started, and continued to be in the fullest sense a high-class, well-written periodical full of informative matter on subjects of deep interest to Irish Catholic readers.

Latterly, however, Father Wheeler's health had begun to give way, and during the last few months he had been suffering from a rather severe breakdown.

“Freeman's Journal”, Oct. 29th, 1913.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father Thomas Wheeler (1848-1913)

A native of Mullingar, was educated at Tullabeg College and entered the Society in 1866. He pursued all his higher studies abroad: in France, Belgium and Spain, in which latter country he was ordained. Father Wheeler was one of the Irish Province's most gifted masters of the last century, but his association with the Crescent was limited to the years 1887-88 and 1894-95. He was sometime rector of Belvedere College and vice-rector of UCD. He was also widely known in literary circles and succeeded Father Matthew Russell in the editorship of the “Irish Monthly”.

Born: 12 May 1865, Mooresfort, County Tipperary
Entered: 24 October 1882, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 02 August 1896, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows:15 August 1901
Died: 13 August 1952, Clongowes Wood College SJ, Naas, County Kildare

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1900 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 27th Year No 4 1952
Obituary :
Father James Whitaker (1865-1952)

Clongowes suffered a great loss in the death, on August 13th, of Fr. Whitaker. R.I.P.
Born at Mooresfort, Co. Tipperary, on May 12th, 1865, he was baptised in Lattin Chapel two days later, received the Sacrament of Confirmation in Galbally Chapel in June, 1874, and made his First Holy Communion in October, 1877. This reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation before making one's first Holy Communion seems to have been the regular procedere in those days. He was a pupil of Galbally National School from September, 1874 to September, 1878, when he went to Tullabeg. Here he spent the four happiest years of his life, memories of which he frequently loved to recall and, in October, 1882, he entered the Society. He did one year's juniorate (1884-85) and three year's Philosophy (1885-88) in Milltown Park, and was then sent to the Crescent, where he spent five years on the teaching staff. From the Crescent be returned in 1893, to Milltown Park where he followed the Long Course in Theology, and was ordained Priest in 1896. Before going to his Tertianship, he spent two years (1897-99) on the teaching staff of Mungret, did his Tertianship at Tronchiennes and took the four Vows of the Professed on August 15th, 1901. The years 1900-13 were spent in Belvedere. For eleven of those years he was engaged in teaching the Matriculation class, he was Minister for one year, and spent one year giving retreats. In 1913 he went to Clongowes and was an active member of the teaching staff until 1943, when he retired on pension. Though severely handicapped in his power of movement by arthritis, he continued to say daily Mass up to the end of March, 1947. From that date until he met with the unfortunate accident in May, 1951, he attended daily Mass in the Domestic Chapel and was able to go to the Community Refectory and Library, to be present at Litanies, Domestic Exhortations and other public Community duties.
During the last fourteen months of his life he was confined to his room in the N.W. tower of the Castle, a room in which he had spent 39 long years, a room which, to those who know Clongowes, is so constructed that it was possible for him to attend Mass, offered daily up to the very end, in the “Ante-room” (as it is commonly called). In that room, though no longer able to be present at the Community duties, he still observed the routine of Common Life. He would allow no exceptions to be made for him in the hour or quality of his meals. They must be what the rest of the Community were enjoying or condemned to. He heard Mass, made his meditation and Examens and şaid his Divine office daily up to the end, and so with perfect peace and thanking his Maker that he had been spared all physical suffering he went to his reward.
The internment took place in the College cemetery on Saturday, August 16th, following Solemn Requiem Mass in the Boys' Chapel, at which Right Rev. Monsignor Kissane, President Maynooth College, presided.
The Celebrant of the Mass was Fr. McGlade; Deacon, Fr. Dennehy; Sub-deacon, Fr. Meagher; M.O., Rev. J. Foley, Milltown Park. The sacred music was very beautifully rendered by the choir of Milltown Park, The prayers at the graveside were recited by Very Rev. Fr. Provincial.
As will be seen from the sketch of his life given above, Fr. Whitaker's priestly Office brought him very little into contact with the outer world, Apart from the one year spent in giving retreats, and apart from those retreats (one hundred in number) which he gave during school vacations, his whole life was spent in the classroom and among his own Community, and so his virtues were chiefly the characteristic virtues of charity and good-fellowship which are so essential to the smooth and harmonious working together of a limited group of men who are thrown into daily contact with one another, year in, year out. I remember the late Fr. Charlie Barrett remarking to me one evening as we were leaving the Library after recreation “Would not Fr. Whit. be a great loss to the Community if he were to be taken from us?” I readily agreed. For on that particular evening he had been at his best. The time passed swiftly and enjoyably as he carried the conversation with a general fund of information and anecdote that held us all. In general he simply flooded the room with an exuberance and zest of good nature and wit that made the ordinary raconteur seem a trifle pallid in comparison. He had a prodigious memory for persons and places and incidents a faculty which he preserved to the very end. As one listened to him one became convinced that he knew everything about everything in the Province and that he had been everywhere in Ireland. Younger men going for the first time to some seaside resort, or to some convent to give a retreat, would consult Fr. Whitaker beforehand as to the principal attractions or drawbacks of the locality. He would then produce one of the many sectional maps of the country which he possessed, and would launch forth into vivid detail of what must be avoided and what must not be missed.
This faculty of minute observation of men and things was fostered and kept alive by the habit which he had long cultivated of keeping a diary. There is much in the diary, it is true, of little interest to any but himself, and it is to be regretted that he wrote so impersonally. His judgment was sound, his foresight keen, One felt, when one consulted him on any problem, that his decision would be correct, human and intelligent.
For one who had been so regular all his life in punctual attendance at every Community duty and festivity, the tedium and loneliness of the last two years of his life must have often been hard to bear. Yet he never complained. He derived great pleasure from even a short visit of one of the Community, and spoke very feelingly and generously of the kindness and efficiency of the Br. Infirmarian and of the servants who saw to his wants.
To Saint John Berchmans is attributed the saying: “Mea maxima mortificatio est vita communis”, and for that very reason Berchmans was canonised. His canonisation was a canonisation of the Rule Book. So, well may we imagine Fr. Whitaker saying, not in any sense of boastfulness but in sheer literal truth: “Mea maxima delectatio est vita communis” and that, we feel certain, is sufficient reason for believing that his lot is with the saints. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Clongownian, 1953

Obituary

Father James Whitaker SJ

Father Whitaker was born at Mooresfort, Co Tipperary on May 12, 1865, was baptised in Lattin Chapel two days afterwards, received the Sacrament of Confirmation in June 1874, and made his first Holy Communion in 1877. This reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation before making one's first Holy Communion seems to have been the regular procedure in those days. He was a pupil of Galbally National School from 1874 to 1878, when he went to Tullabeg. Here he spent the four happiest years of his life, memories of which he frequently loved to recall and, in October 1882, he entered the Society. After the usual course of studies in humanities and philosophy at Milltown Park, he was a member of the teaching staff at the Sacred Heart College, Limerick, from 1888 to 1893. He then returned to Miltown Park for his theological studies and was ordained priest in 1896. His studies completed, he took the Solemn Vows of Profession on August 15th, 1901. The years 1900-13 were spent in Belvedere College. For eleven of those years he was engaged in teaching the Matriculation class; he was Minister for one year, and spent one year giving retreats. In 1913 he went to Clongowes and was an active member of the teaching staff until 1943, when he retired from the classroom. Though severely handicapped by arthritis, he continued to say daily Mass up to the end of March 1947. From that date until he met with the unfortunate accident in 1951, he attended daily Mass and other community duties. During the last fourteen months of his life he was confined to his room in the NW tower of the Castle, a room in which he had spent 39 long years, and from which he passed painlessly and peacefully to his Maker on August 13th, 1952.

As will be seen from the sketch of his life given above, Fr Whitaker's priestly duties brought him very little into contact with the outside world. Apart from the one year spent in giving retreats, and apart from those retreats - one hundred in number - which he gave during School Vacations, his whole life was spent in the Colleges and among his own community. Many old Clongownians will remember him with gratitude for all he did for them in the class room and out of it during those thirty continuous years. In the classroom nothing was taken for granted or left to chance. The prescribed course was gone into thoroughly and most methodically. A very definite scheme was care fully prepared so that each section of the course received due attention, and for any luckless candidate who found himself on the eve of Examination without a thorough knowledge of his texts, Fr Whitaker had scant sympathy. Indeed I have sometimes heard it said that he was too methodical to be a really great teacher. Outside the class room he spent much valuable time catering for the amusements and recreation of the boys. To him was assigned the task of choosing a suitable motion picture for Play-day evenings. Many an hour was spent in a preview of these films, and during thie actual presentation of the picture some of the comments overheard coming from the operator's box were more amusing than what was actually taking place on the screen. He had good taste in music and drama and fostered a love for these among his pupils. Gifted with a keen sense of humour and a retentive memory, and being an unusually shrewd observer of men and things, he was a brilliant story-teller and on many an occasion kept his listeners entranced.

In conclusion we may say that his was it singularly happy, peaceful life, with no great ambitions, no great enthusiasms, simply contented to fulfil with utmost fidelity the duties to which he was called. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father James Whitaker (1865-1952)

A native of Mooresfort, Co Tipperary and educated at Tullabeg College, entered the Society in 1882. He spent his regency at the Crescent, 1888-1893. With the exception of a short period at Belvedere College, Father Whitaker's long teaching career after his ordination was spent at Clongowes. (Cf The Clongownian, 1953, “An Old Tipperary Family”.)

Born: 15 March 1875, Madras, India
Entered: 07 September 1892, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 26 July 1908, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1910, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 28 April 1957, Our Lady’s Hospice, Dublin

Part of the Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin community at the time of death

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1896 at Valkenburg, Netherlands (GER) studying
Came to Australia for Regency, 1898
by 1909 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Though born in India, Esmonde White was educated in Ireland. For regency he went to Riverview .There he stayed a relatively brief time, teaching and being assistant prefect of discipline, before departing in the autumn of 1901 for the same position at Xavier until 1905, when he returned to Ireland. From 1909 he was involved in the school ministry in Ireland.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 32nd Year No 3 1957
Obituary :
Fr Esmonde White (1875-1957)
Within a period of twelve months, Rathfarnham has lost four of its older men. Perhaps none of them has left so big a gap as “the quiet man”, Fr. White. Yet so it is; for, shrouded though he was in an almost fantastic silence, Fr. White was always there. Religious duties, meals, recreation, from none of these did he ever absent himself. He could be called bi-lingual inasmuch as his chief contribution to recreation was the statement, in Irish or English, “No doubt at all about it?” Perhaps he was on more familiar terms with the birds, whose calls, especially that of the cuckoo, he could faithfully reproduce. Certain it is that he never said an unkind word. No one who knew Fr. White would infer that this was merely the negative virtue of a very silent man. In the first place, it is certain that he had not always been so silent. In his student days at Valkenburg he had acquired so good a mastery of the language as to merit, in later years, the emphatic comment of a German Jesuit : “That man speaks German well”. Moreover his genial charity showed itself very positively in action, for he loved to see people happy. One who was with him in the colleges remarked: “He was always doing odd jobs for others and made so little compliment about them that, in Belvedere for example, if anyone wanted something in Woolworths, he had only to ask Fr. White, and off he went!”
Fr. White was born on 15th March, 1875 in Madras, India. Educated in Clongowes, he gained his place in the three-quarters on the Senior Cup team, played a useful game of Soccer, and bowled on the Cricket eleven. To the end of his life he bowled, left-arm, silently, at invisible wickets - one of his most characteristic gestures. He entered the Society at Tullabeg in 1892, studied philosophy at Valkenburg, and spent the seven following years in Australia, teaching at Xavier and at Riverview. He was ordained at Milltown Park in 1908, did his Tertianship at Tronchienues and spent the remainder of his long life in the class room. All told, he taught for thirty-eight years. He taught at the Crescent from 1910 to 1914, being Prefect of Studies for the two latter years, He was at Belvedere 1915-19, and again from 1923 to 1937, having been in the meantime Minister and Socius at Tullabeg and Prefect of Studies at Galway. Then after a year at Emo and two years at Rathfarnham, as Spiritual Father, he went back to Belvedere, 1941-47, as Sub-Minister. After one year at Milltown Park he came in 1948 to Rathfarnham, where he remained until his death.
With the drawbridge of his interior castle perpetually up, he seemed very happy within, as he tunefully hummed and whistled, to the edification of the brethren without. He loved Belvedere College and when, after a stay of two years in Rathfarnham, he saw his name again on the Belvedere status, he literally danced with joy, at the sober age of sixty-five! While Prefect of Studies in Belvedere Junior House, he combined gentleness with severity in such perfect measure that a past pupil recalls: “He hit very hard with the pandy bat but obviously felt every bit as miserable about it as the unfortunate victim!” The same pupil added, and none of us could deny the tribute: “He was one of Nature's gentlemen!” Those of us who lived with him would suggest that Grace played a bigger part than Nature in making Fr. White one of the kindest of men.
His last illness was short. Some six weeks after leaving Rathfarnham for the Nursing Home, his condition suddenly worsened and he died in the Hospice on 28th April, Before leaving Rathfarnham, he made an interrogation of unusual length: “Two questions are puzzling me”, he said to the indefatigable infirmarian. “First of all, who are you?” When Brother Keogh had identified himself, Fr. White went on: “Secondly, who am I?” With sincerity and truth we can all answer the second question : “One white man!” May he rest in peace!

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973
Father Esmonde White SJ 1875-1957
To those who lived in community with him, Fr Esmonde White seemed to be almost shrouded in an fantastic silence. He certainly was a perfect man, according to St James, for he never offended with the tongue, his remarks being confined to “No doubt at all about it”, said either in English or Irish.

Born in Madras, India, in 1975, he was educated at Clongowes, where he acquired a reputation as a left-hand bowler, whence, no doubt, he developed a gesture common with him to the end of his life, bowling left-handed at invisible wickets.

His life as a Jesuit was spent mainly in the Colleges and the classroom, a ministry of 40 years at least. He was mathematical in his observance, never absent from a duty, ever easy to oblige others, the quintessence of kindness, A model of motivated observance, close to God always, he yielded up his spotless soul to God on April 27th 1957. In the words of his obituary “He was a white man”.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1957

Obituary

Father Esmonde White SJ

Fr White was born on 15th March, 1875, in Madras, India. Educated in Clongowes, he gained his place as a three-quarter on the Senior Cup team, played a useful game of Soccer, and bowled on the cricket eleven. And anyone who knew him or was taught by him will know that to the very end of his life he was to be seen as he walked along, occasionally bowling, left-arm, an invisible ball at an invisible wicket.

He entered the Society of Jesus at Tullabeg in 1892, studied Philosophy at Valkenburg, and spent the seven following years in Australia. He was ordained at Milltown Park in 1908, He taught at the Crescent, Limerick, from 1910 to 1914, being Prefect of Studies for the two latter years. He was. at Belvedere 1915-1919, and again from 1923 to 1937, having been in the meantime Minister and Assistant to the Master of Novices at Tullabeg and Prefect of Studies at St Ignatius College, Galway, Then, after a year at Emo and two years at Rathfarnham as Spiritual Father, he went back to Belvedere from 1941–1947. From then until his death he was at Rathfarnham.

He loved Belvedere and when after a stay at Rathfarnham, he once again was changed to Belvedere we are told that he literally danced for joy, and that at the very sober age of sixty-five! He was Prefect of Studies in the Preparatory School for a period and for all his perpetually good humour knew well how to wield his sceptre of office. His most outstanding characteristic was his fantastic power of silence; he wasted no words. But it was a good-humoured silence, which missed little enough of what was going on and certain it is that his thoughts were always kindly since he never said an unkind word. Those of us who lived with him would suggest that Grace played a bigger part than Nature in making Fr White one of the kindest of men.

◆ The Clongownian, 1957

Obituary

Father Esmonde White SJ

Father Esmonde White was born in Madras, India, eighty-two years ago. Having left Clongowes, he joined the Novitiate at Tullabeg in 1892. He studied philosophy at Valkenburg in Holland and was then sent to the Australian Mission where he was Prefect and Master for six years, first in Kew College, Melbourne, and then at Riverview, Sydney.

He returned to Ireland in 1905 and completed his theological studies at Milltown Park, Dublin, where he was ordained in 1908. He also studied at Tronchiennes, Belgium. He was Master and Prefect of Studies at the Sacred Heart College, Limerick, from 1910 to 1914, and at Belvedere College, Dublin, from 1915 until 1919, when he was appointed Minister and Assistant Master of Novices at Tullabeg.

He was later in charge of studies at St Ignatius' College, Galway. In 1923 he returned to Belvedere, and remained there until 1937, when he was transferred to Rathfarnham Castle. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father Esmonde White (1875-1957)

Born at Madras, India and educated at Clongowes, entered the Society in 1892. He pursued his higher studies in Valkenburg, Milltown Park and Belgium. He was ordained in 1908. Father White was a member of the Crescent community from 1909 to 1914 during which time he was prefect of studies. Most of his teaching career was spent at Belvedere College.

Born: 02 December 1912, Kickham Street, Carrick-on-Suir, County Tipperary
Entered: 03 September 1930, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1944, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 03 February 1947, Belvedere College SJ, Dublin
Died: 13 July 1988, St Vincent's Hospital, Dublin

Part of the Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin community at the time of death

Parents were shopkeepers and farmers.

Oldest of three boys with three sisters.

Early education at the Mercy Convent, Carrick-on-Suir he then went to Christian Brothers School also in Carrick-on-Suir (1921-1928). In September 1928 he went to Mungret College SJ

by 1972 at Manhassett NY, USA (NEB) studying marriage

Prefect of Studies at Gonzaga, College SJ, Dublin: 1950 -1965
Rector of Gonzaga College SJ, Dublin: 1965 - 1971
Director of Marriage Encounter: 1974 - 1982
Superior of Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin: 1985 - 1988

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 63rd Year No 4 1988 (Final Edition)

Obituary
Fr William White (1912-1930-1988)
Fr William White, SJ, who died on July 13 1988, was a native of Carrick-on-Suir, Co. Tipperary. Born in 1912, he was educated by the Christian Brothers in the town of his birth and by the Jesuits at Mungret College, Limerick. Known as “Willie” to his family, he was “Bill” to the Jesuits, whom he joined in 1930. After the customary course of studies, interrupted by a teaching spell at Belvedere College, Dublin, he was ordained priest at Milltown Park, Dublin, in 1944.
When Fr Bill was sent back to Belvedere College in 1946, with responsibility for the preparatory school there, he expected to spend many years on the staff, so he was very surprised when the Provincial chose him as one of the four priests who, in 1949, founded Gonzaga College. Fr Bill was Prefect of Studies at Gonzaga from 1950 until 1965, when he became Rector of the college. He had to cope with all the demands of founding and building up a new school, but he never lost his sense of humour, nor his sense of fairness and never forgot any of the boys whom he had taught.
A new career began for him in 1971, when he went to Manhasset, New York, to study marriage counselling and he became one of the pioneers of Marriage Encounter in Ireland, being its director from 1974 until 1982. Apart from his formal involvement, Fr Bill was a counsellor and friend to many troubled people, always ready to give his whole attention to others and with a marvellously warm smile. Many couples, individuals (including many priests and religious) and whole families benefitted from his advice, his prayers and his friendship. His closeness to his own family was an important part of his life and he was an asset to every Jesuit house in which he lived.
Fr White's final assignment was as superior to the Jesuit Order's nursing unit at Cherryfield Lodge, Milltown Park, where he took up office in 1985. In recent months, it was obvious that his health was failing and he was in St Vincent's Hospital, Elm Park, for tests when he suffered a stroke, In the days between the stroke and his death, Fr Bill was serene, in no pain and with no worries. Even in the last hours of his life, his main concern was the well-being of others.
(Catholic Standard, 22nd July 1988).

In the quartet of Jesuits who founded Gonzaga, Fr Bill White was surprisingly identified as the Brawn, harnessing the energies of Blood (the O'Conor Don), Beauty (blond Fr John Murphy) and Brains (Fr Tim Hamilton, the only survivor). In Bill it was the brawn of the jockey rather than the ploughman. He walked like a horseman, out of his element with nothing between his legs, with a slightly limping shuffle. Though I never saw him on horseback, he seemed to belong there. He mounted his old bicycle like a hunter and rode it habitually between canter and gallop round the steeplechase of Dublin streets. He had a jockey's sense of the final furlong, hurling himself up the Gonzaga avenue just in time for dinner, or on other public occasions keeping the grandstand on its toes until the last moment. Two minutes before the house exams, which were treated with considerable solemnity, teachers, boys and desks would be in chaos until at the last moment Bill would slip into the hall, bundles of papers under his arms, restoring order just in time.
Though he founded the most urban and urbane of schools, Bill brought to it a countryman's sense of reality. He was sensitive to the moods of flesh and blood, a student of form, whether equine or human. In a school that had the reputation of being heady, he was the least heady of men. Do you remember his style of greeting? In a warm and characteristic way it was very physical. Moving towards you with a smile that was always slightly lop-sided, his hands never far from his body so that he came close enough to sense you, almost smell you, he would eye your skin, your colour, the lie of your muscles, the lift or droop of your mouth, so that when he asked “How are you?” it was with the concern of a friend who already surmised your world from the outside and was eager to know how you experienced it from the inside. At that moment, nobody else existed for him, and it is no wonder that so many found him unforgettable. The sense of loss at his funeral was tinged with intensity and often indignation. It seemed that hundreds were feeling: How could the Lord take a man who was so important to me - and to whom I was so important? At the ripe age of three score and fifteen, it still seemed grossly premature.
Bill is said to have been appalled at his appointment to Gonzaga in 1950. His old guru, Fr Rupert Coyle, had trained him to run the Junior School in Belvedere, and fingered him to succeed in the Senior School. He felt himself ill-equipped to launch, albeit in distinguished company, a pioneering educational experiment. He was reflective, wise and supportive, but not an originator - he left that to his talented staff, who always sensed his ungrudging support.
From the beginning he liked to teach the youngest class in the school, to get the measure of them from the start. While his staff gradually shaped a new style and curriculum, Bill was the one who knew the individual pupil, knew the dynamics of his family, sensed where his promise and his limits were. When I wrote school reports with him in the late sixties, I marvelled at his sense of how our words could impinge on the family, to build up or to destroy; how they would affect the depression of a mother, the driving ambition of a father, the vitality of a boy. The document finally put into the envelope was not just an objective assessment, but a communication to a family that was known, with a clear sense of how it would be used.
He ran a tight ship, and wielded the biffer in the fashion of the time, but with a fairness that is still remembered. Two small boys were heard discussing which teacher they liked best. “I like Fr White best” said Peter. “But he biffs you!” protested his friend. “Yes, but that's his duty” said young Sutherland, with that sense of order that makes him a formidable European Commissioner. In fact it was often the wayward who sensed most vividly the largeness of Bill's heart. More than once he stood under the great copper beech on the front lawn calling young X, a fugitive from the classroom, to come down out of that - and X has now joined the forces of law as a thriving solicitor.
To those who have, more will be given, says the Gospel, ironically, and Gonzaga's early pupils were manifestly blessed in the Dublin of their time. Fr White succeeded in saving these fortunate ones from an enervating sense of privilege. He challenged the clever to be more than clever: to be good. It is the task of every teacher, to build up children without pandering to narcissistic illusions, to confront their selfishness without destroying or depressing them, to forge an alliance with the good in them. This was a central theme in Bill's work with boys: to reach the truth in them, and not allow them to take their blessings for granted.
Every school principal knows the four am feeling that there is a serious chink in his armour, some point where the dyke can be breached and chaos break out. Bill's chink lay in the formalities of administration. He ran his files on what we called the deep litter system, then a popular method of poultry farming. Bill dropped letters, application forms, telephone messages, reports, departmental documents to form a carpet, sometimes ankle-deep, on the ample floor of his room. He was confident that he knew where things were, and we marvelled to find that this was sometimes true. But at a time when paper-work was multiplying, and applications for a place in the school were often made from the nursing-home as soon as the baby was identified as a boy, it was inevitable that the deep litter system sometimes let him down, with often painful consequences. In general he was ill at ease with the administrative aids that are now taken for granted: secretaries (he never had one), typewriters, cars, files, computers, VDUs, all the paraphernalia of yuppiedom, that shield one person from another. For him the only essential 20th century appliance (apart from the bicy cle--but his machine was more redolent of the nineteenth century) was the telephone.
If Fr White is ever portrayed or sculpted, it must be with a telephone to his ear, listening, murmuring, reassuring, cheering, and as the minutes lengthen saying: “Goodbye ... goodbye again” (even on one occasion “Goodbye at last”). It was an instrument he could not resist. His car was attuned to pick up a phone's ring from quite a distance, and he would move automatically towards it. It was a symbol of his accessibility that he laid himself open to. In the community we were jealous of his attention, and often saw him exhausted by his unwillingness to protect himself. One remembers him slipping through the Gonzaga hall, summoned to the first parlour by one lady, to the second parlour by another, and to the telephone by a waiting caller - all on the way to dinner, or on another occasion reaching the community house for six o'clock dinner after a working day that began at six a.m., to be grabbed by a parent with the pretty ruthless remark: “I knew I would catch you now; Father”. Others might fume, but not Bill, his face would light up to the visitor and he was listening again.
Not merely listening, but containing. He took bad news on board in a way that metabolised it, made it easier to bear. He could listen to tidings of hopelessness, depression, sickness, estrangement, and by sharing the bitterness, heal some of the pain, though he knew that no practical solution was in sight. When someone remarked on his gift of empathy, he traced it to his father, who he said was much better than he: old Mr White was known in Carrick-on-Suir as the man to contact in the aftermath of some particularly cruel tragedy, a man who would not shrink from the pain but could place himself alongside the sufferers, sharing their cross. As the years passed, Bill moved more and more into work (in Marriage Encounter, and with sick Jesuits in Cherryfield) that engaged his extraordinary gift of compassion.
A dear friend who revered Bill used to speak of the “other dimension” that he revealed: the BMW cruising down the avenue through the February rain gets a wave and smile from Bill White cycling up from a hospital visit or, as Rector, carrying across hot coffee to the staff room for the teachers break; among us as one who serves. His life would not make sense if God did not exist.
His faith sustained him to the end, with a manifestly aching body, but a face that became more radiant and transparent as his health declined. He had resolved as a young Jesuit that if ever there was an apparent conflict between the religious rule and the Gospel, he would opt for the Gospel, which for him was summed up in one or two truths: “I have loved you with an everlasting love” - his favourite phrase from Scripture; and the need to cast out fear, which he saw as the most damaging and pernicious effect of original sin.
We will not run out of administrators, or teachers, or priests. Fr Bill White was more; he was a healer, and the gap he left is still felt with pain by hundreds of friends.
(By courtesy of the Gonzaga Record).

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1988

Obituary

Father Bill White SJ

Fr. White was not a past pupil of Belvedere but those who were here in the 40s and 50s will remember him as a scholastic (1939-41) and, in the latter period, as Prefect of Studies in the Junior House (1946-50). He was a man of very unusual goodness and personal quality.

The following appreciation appeared in The Catholic Standard (July 22nd 1988):

Fr William White SJ, who died on July 13 1988, was a native of Carrick-on-Suir, Co Tipperary. Born in 1912, he was educated by the Christian Brothers in the town of his birth and by the Jesuits at Mungret College, Limerick, Known as “Willie” to his family, he was “Bill” to the Jesuits, whom he joined in 1930. After the customary course of studies, interrupted by a teaching spell at Belvedere College, Dublin he was ordained priest at Milltown Park, Dublin, in 1944.

When Fr Bill was sent back to Belvedere College in 1946, with responsibility for the preparatory school there, he expected to spend many years on the staff, so he was very surprised when the Provincial chose him as one of the four priests who, in 1949, founded Gonzaga College. Fr Bill was Prefect of Stud Gonzaga from 1950 until 1965, when he became Rector of the college. He had to cope with a demands of founding and building up a new school but he never lost his sense of humour, nor his sense of fairness and never forgot any of the boys whom he had taught.

A new career began for him in 1971, when he went to Manhasset, New York, to study marriage counsellling and he became one of the pioneers of Marriage Encounter in Ireland, being its director from 1974 until 1982. Apart from his formal involvement Fr Bill was a counsellor and friend to many troubled people, always ready to give his whole attention to others and with a marvellously warm smile. Many couples, individuals (including many priests and religious) and whole families benefitted from his advice his prayers and his friendship. His closeness to his own family was an important part of his life and he was an asset to every Jesuit house in which he lived.

Fr White's final assignment was as superior Jesuit Order's nursing unit at Cherryfield Lodge Milltown Park, where he took up office in 1985. In recent months, it was obvious that his health was failing and he was in St Vincent's Hospital, Elm Park, for tests when he suffered a stroke. In the days between the stroke and his death, Fr Bill was serene, in no pain and with no worries, Even in the last hours of his life, his main concern was the well being of others.

At his funeral in Gardiner St Church, Fr Senan Timoney SJ said in his homily:

“He was a great Christian, a great human being. His humanity never suffered because he was Christ like. He was wise and yet not solemn. You can all recall his infectious laugh. He was authentic - there was nothing spurious, nothing artificial about him. He was fully himself. He was that elusive thing a man of God whose scale of values were those of Christ. A graced person, he was gentle. He had time for you. When he was talking to you no one else counted - this whether it was on the telephone or in the parlour. A man of immense compassion and at the same time a shrewd judge of any situation, He was in the words of Fr Pedro Arrupe ‘a man for others’. One phrase I can recall his using quite often - especially if you enquired after his well-being - ‘And now, tell me how are you?'’ He was selfless”.

One of those who cared for him in his last days said: “It was a joy to look after him. He died as he lived - a man for others”.

◆ The Gonzaga Record 1988

Obituary

William White SJ

In the quartet of Jesuits who founded Gonzaga, Fr Bill White was surprisingly identified as the Brawn, harnessing the energies of Blood (the O'Conor Don), Beauty (blond Fr John Murphy) and Brains (Fr Tim Hamilton, the only survivor). In Bill it was the brawn of the jockey rather than the ploughman. He walked like a horseman, out of his element with nothing between his legs, with a slightly limping shuffle. Though I never saw him on horseback, he seemed to belong there. He mounted his old bicycle like a hunter and rode it habitually between canter and gallop round the steeplechase of Dublin streets. He had a jockey's sense of the final furlong, hurling himself up the Gonzaga avenue just in time for dinner, or on other public occasions keeping the grandstand on its toes until the last moment. Two minutes before the house exams, which were treated with considerable solemnity, teachers, boys and desks would be in chaos until, at the last moment, Bill would slip into the hall, bundles of papers under his arms, restoring order just in time.

Though he founded the most urban and urbane of schools, Bill brought to it a countryman's sense of reality. He was sensitive to the moods of flesh and blood, a student of form, whether equine or human. In a school that had the reputation of being heady, he was the least heady of men. Do you remember his style of greeting? In a warm and characteristic way it was very physical. Moving towards you with a smile that was always slightly lop-sided, his hands never far from his body so that he came close enough to sense you, almost smell you, he would eye your skin, your colour, the lie of your muscles, the lift or droop of your mouth, so that when he asked 'How are you?' it was with the concern of a friend who already surmised your world from the outside and was eager to know how you experienced it from the inside. At that moment, nobody else existed for him, and it is no wonder that so many found him unforgettable. The sense of loss at his funeral was tinged with intensity and often indignation. It seemed that hundreds were feeling: how could the Lord take a man who was so important to me -- and to whom I was so important? At the ripe age of three score and fifteen, it still seemed grossly premature.

Bill is said to have been appalled at his appointment to Gonzaga in 1950. His old guru, Fr Rupert Coyle, had trained him to run the Junior School in Belvedere, and fingered him to succeed in the Senior School. He felt himself ill-equipped to launch, albeit in distinguished company, a pioneering educational experiment. He was reflective, wise and supportive, but not an originator — he left that to his talented staff, who always sensed his ungrudging support. From the beginning he liked to teach the youngest class in the school, to get the measure of them from the start. While his staff gradually shaped a new style and curriculum, Bill was the one who knew the individual pupil, knew the dynamics of his family, sensed where his promise and his limits were. When I wrote school reports with him in the late sixties, I marvelled at his sense of how our words could impinge on the family, to build up or to destroy; how. they would affect the depression of a mother, the driving ambition of a father, the vitality of a boy. The document finally put into the envelope was not just an objective assessment, but a communication to a family that was known, with a clear sense of how it would be used.

He ran a tight ship, and wielded the biffer in the fashion of the time, but with a fairness that is still remembered. Two small boys were heard discussing which teacher they liked best. 'I like Fr White besť said Peter. ‘But he biffs you!' protested his friend. 'Yes, but that's his duty said young Sutherland, with that sense of order that makes him a formidable European Commissioner. In fact it was often the wayward who sensed most vividly the largeness of Bill's heart. More than once he stood under the great copper beech on the front lawn calling young X, a fugitive from the classroom, to come down out of that - and X has now joined the forces of law as a thriving solicitor.

To those who have, more will be given, says the Gospel, ironically, and Gonzaga's early pupils were manifestly blessed in the Dublin of their time. Fr White succeeded in saving these fortunate ones from an enervating sense of privilege. He challenged the clever to be more than clever: to be good. It is the task for every teacher, to build up children without pandering to narcissistic illusions, to confront their selfishness without destroying or depressing them, to forge an alliance with the good in them. This was a central theme in Bill's work with boys: to reach the truth in them, and not allow them to take their blessings for granted.

Every school principal knows the four a.m. feeling that there is a serious chink in his armour, some point where the dyke can be breached and chaos break out. Bill's chink lay in the formalities of administration. He ran his files on what we called the deep litter system, then a popular method of poultry farming. Bill dropped letters, application forms, telephone messages, reports, departmental documents to form a carpet, sometimes ankle-deep, on the ample floor of his room. He was confident that he knew where things were, and we marvelled to find that this was sometimes true. But at a time when paper-work was multiplying and applications for a place in the school were often made from the nursing home as soon as the baby was identified as a boy, it was inevitable that the deep litter system sometimes let him down, with often painful consequences. In general he was ill at ease with the administrative aids that are now taken for granted: secretaries (he never had one), typewriters, cars, files, computers, VDUs, all the paraphernalia of yuppiedom, that shield one person from another. For him the only essential 20th-century appliance (apart from the bicycle — but his machine was more redolent of the nineteenth century) was the telephone.

If Fr White is ever portrayed or sculpted, it must be with a telephone to his ear, listening, murmuring, reassuring, cheering, and as the minutes lengthen saying 'Goodbye....goodbye again' (even on one occasion, 'Goodbye at last). It was an instrument he could not resist. His ear was attuned to pick up a phone's ring from quite a distance, and he would move automatically towards it. It was a symbol of his accessibility that he laid himself open to. In the community we were jealous of his attention, and often saw him exhausted by his unwillingness to protect himself. One remembers him slipping through the Gonzaga hall, summoned to the first parlour by one lady, to the second parlour by another, and to the telephone by a waiting caller - all on the way to dinner; or on another occasion reaching the community house for six o'clock dinner after a working day that began at six a.m., to be grabbed by a parent with the pretty ruthless remark: 'I knew I would catch you now, Father'. Others might fume, but not Bill; his face would light up to the visitor and he was listening again.

Not merely listening, but containing. He took bad news on board in a way that metabolised it, made it easier to bear. He could listen to tidings of hopelessness, depression, sickness, estrangement, and by sharing the bitterness, heal some of the pain, though he knew that no practical solution was in sight. When someone remarked on his gift of empathy, he traced it to his father, who he said was much better than he: old Mr White was known in Carrick-on-Suir as the man to contact in the aftermath of some particularly cruel tragedy, a man who would not shrink from the pain but could place himself alongside the sufferers, sharing their cross. As the years passed, Bill moved more and more into work (in Marriage Encounter, and with sick Jesuits in Cherryfield) that engaged his extraordinary gift of compassion.

A dear friend who revered Bill used to speak of the other dimension' that he revealed: the BMW cruising down the avenue through the February rain gets a wave and smile from Bill White cycling up from a hospital visit: or, as Rector, carrying across hot coffee to the staff-room for the teachers' break; among us as one who serves. His life would not make sense if God did not exist.

His faith sustained him to the end, with a manifestly aching body, but a face that became more radiant and transparent as his health declined. He had resolved as a young Jesuit that if ever there was an apparent conflict between the religious rule and the Gospel, he would opt for the Gospel, which for him was summed up in one or two truths: 'I have loved you with an everlasting love' — his favourite phrase from Scripture; and the need to cast out fear, which he saw as the most damaging and pernicious effect of original sin.

We will not run out of administrators, or teachers, or priests. Fr Bill White was more; he was a healer, and the gap he left is still felt with pain by hundreds of friends.

Paul Andrews SJ

Remembering Father White

In 1976, to stimulate interest in the activities of the past pupils' union, a 'Gonzaga Dinner' was advertised in The Irish Times and attracted 100 guests, the largest number that could be accommodated in the dining room of the University Club. There were rumours that an Alternative Gonzaga Dinner had to be convened around the corner in Captain America's for the late applicants. If so, the latecomers missed what for the participants in the real Gonzaga Dinner was the high point of the evening: the few words spoken by Fr White.

Fr White spoke that evening about freedom. I seem to remember some remarks about how much freedom the boys could use!. I seem to remember too that Fr White said that looking back, he could see ways in which it might have been safe to allow a little more freedom in the school than had been the case. But it was not primarily his words that made Fr White's appearance that evening so memorable. It was the sudden explosion of applause that greeted him as he rose to speak. It was heartfelt applause, deliberately prolonged. It had overtones of shared triumph. Fr White, in his person, seemed to represent the contribution of so many teachers, pupils, and parents to the decades of endeavour in Gonzaga. He represented the sense of belonging that each of us seemed to enjoy.

What was the secret of Fr White's enduring rapport with all the boys, and all the families, who were part of Gonzaga? As someone who came to Gonzaga only after Fr White became Rector, and who therefore had direct dealings with him only on a few occasions, I can speak on this subject as a member of the rank-and-file. Even at that distance, it was always clear that Fr White was someone who paid attention to individuals. He knew people by name and he knew what was important in their lives. He was a man with a heart, who by thinking things mattered made them matter. The school's concerns were Fr White's concerns. It was an example of joyful service that like other gentle features of our youthful landscape, we noticed too little.

One personal memory that I do have of Fr White is of the time I sat the entrance examination for Oxford in one of the two sitting rooms on the left off the hallway of the priests' house. Fr White himself was my supervisor. Each morning of the exam he brought me tea and biscuits on a tray, an impish smile of complicity conveying the support of the school - once again one finds it easy to identify Fr White with the school.

The supportive community which Fr White laboured to create in Gonzaga made the school the complement of a good home atmosphere. The certainty of being known and valued, the stability and predictability of school routine, the very high standard of dedication of the staff, were easy to take for granted, as was the absence of bullying and conflict among the pupils themselves. The consistent success of the school in these seemingly small things are a reminder of the truth of William Blake's dictum that he who would do good to another must do so in minute particulars'.

If Gonzaga had a particular intellectual stamp, it was a belief in the value of open discussion. In Fr Joe Veale's English class, we gave our own reactions to the works under study and were warned off potted summaries or appreciations. John Wilson, teaching Spanish, tolerated lengthy excursuses on the bullfight or the Spanish Civil War. In fifth year, in Religious Knowledge class, Fr Cull ran a sort of open forum on the question of whether God existed, with the result that the young university student a year or two later had an acquired immunity to some of the ruder challenges he faced. Whatever else one could say about the doubts of the Gonzaga past pupils on matters of faith, those doubts would never be the mere product of a “generation gap, or a young person's means of escape from a too-rigid authority.

In this sense, the spirit of the school ran counter to the tendency in many parts of Irish life to accept reality as one might accept the absentee landlord: as a force to be obeyed, cajoled, or evaded, but never tackled directly with argument, much less brought to account. It was a great blessing in Gonzaga that we felt free to delve into the truth and that we never felt, as perhaps so many have felt, that probing the causes of things is like tinkering with an unexploded bomb. Gonzaga, like Fr White, was always ready to listen.

I am told by a reliable source within the Jesuit Community that in his years as Rector, Fr White permitted himself only one concession to the flesh. My source discovered what this weakness was one Thursday afternoon in March. The Rector had failed to answer on any of the usual telephone extensions and was located by a search party in front of the television, engrossed in the Cheltenham Gold Cup. That was in 1967.

It is only one of the many memories of Fr White that have surfaced this summer wherever Gonzaga people have been together. Everyone has his own story to tell and yet each story blends perfectly with the next and each conversation has a lightness that is surprising considering that the topic of discussion is a death, a departure. Fr White's presence, like the presence in nature that ‘veins violets and tall trees makes more and more', seems still with us.

A few years ago, I was back in Ireland after nine years abroad and found myself confessing to a colleague that gaps and discontinuities had emerged in my relationships with my friends. “The truth is”, my colleague said, “that you never come home”. As we spoke, I realised that there is an exception to that rule, if it is a rule. On each of my Gonzaga friends I could lean as heavily as before, discover the same easygoing acceptance communicated with the same humorous certainty as before. Fr White would have wished it so. Perhaps that is what Thucydides meant when he wrote of good men, that the whole world is their memorial.

Philip McDonagh

An Appreciation

Father White was, in my opinion, the single most important figure in the history of Gonzaga. He was Prefect of Studies for fifteen years from the School's foundation and Rector for six years after that. He and Father Charlie O'Connor, our first Rector, were a perfect team. Fr O'Connor was a stickler for administrative detail and had a real feel for the development of the School. But he was a distant, slightly aloof figure.

Fr White, on the other hand, was hopeless about records and correspondence and other office work; he was a man for the here and now and had a genius with people. He was good-humoured, buoyant and had immense powers of sympathy. The other teachers found him supportive, especially those who were wilting under the strain.

With the boys he had a robust, slightly hectoring way and would not take too much nonsense. “You're only deceivin' yourself, he would say through clenched teeth, simulating exasperation. But he was too sensible to get really annoyed. He had the uncongenial task of dispensing corporal punishment but this did not diminish his popularity among the boys by whom he was known affectionately as ‘Walley'. To not a few of them he became an invaluable counsellor to whom they looked for advice and support long after they had left the school.

He was the kind of man who turned up when he was most needed, generally on his old bicycle which he mounted as if it were a steed. To meet him was always a happy experience. When you were with him, you were all that mattered. But there was more. Beneath the bustle he had the tranquil contentment that goes with deep faith. That was very impressive. He had immense insight into his fellow humans and he used this to serve them. He gave of himself totally and never thought of the cost, let alone count it.

I last met him in Gonzaga at the Mass for Fr O'Connor when he rendered a superb appreciation. Recalling small but significant episodes from those early days he re-captured his subject to perfection. I remember that he concluded by expressing the wish that Gonzaga boys would regard their education as a privilege to be shared, not a property to be defended. It was a characteristically generous thought. He himself had contributed mightily to making it such a privilege. He has left with us the challenge of proving worthy of it and an inspiration and example for applying ourselves to that task.

Charles Lysaght

Born: 29 March 1931, Park Drive, Rathmines, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1949, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1963, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1981, Clongowes Wood College SJ
Died: 23 May 2003, Saint Brigid's Hospice, The Curragh, County Kildare

Part of the Clongowes Wood College SJ, Naas, County Kildare community at the time of death.

Older Brother of Adrian B Winder - Ent 07/09/1953; LEFT 19/09/1964

by 1985 at Rome, Italy (DIR) Sabbatical Biblical Inst
by 1991 at Frankley Beeches, Birmingham, England (BRI) working
by 1994 at Worcester England (BRI) working

Father was in the Insurance business with the Scottish Insurance Corporation.

Third of four boys.

Early education was at Muckross Convent, CBS Westland Row and then he went to Belvedere College SJ

◆ Interfuse
Interfuse No 117 : Special Issue November 2003

Obituary

Fr Perrcy Winder (1931-2003)

29th March 1931: Born in Dublin
Early education at Muckross Convent, CBS Westland Row and Belvedere College
7th Sept. 1949: Entered the Society at Emo
8th Sept. 1951: First Vows at Emo
1951 - 1954: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1954 - 1957: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1957 - 1960: Mungret College - Regency (Teacher)
1960 - 1964: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1963: Ordained at Milltown Park
1964 - 1965: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1965 - 1990: Clongowes -
1965 - 1976: Teacher; Spiritual Father
1976 - 1984: Teacher; Prefect
1984 - 1985: Sabbatical Year
1985 - 1990: Teacher;Prefect; Spiritual Father
1990 - 1993: Birmingham - Parish Curate.
1993 - 1998: Besford Court, Worcs. - Hospital & School Chaplain; Ministry to elderly, bereaved, mentally ill and housebound people
1998 - 2000: Birmingham - Parish Curate
2000 - 2003: Clongowes - Minister; Guestmaster; Ministered in People's Church
23rd May 2003: Died at St. Brigid's Hospice Unit, Curragh, Co Kildare.

Percy was in remission from prostate cancer for the past seven years, in early January his condition deteriorated. He accepted news of his terminal illness with great faith and kept saying that he wanted to “fly like a butterfly as he was tired of walking like a caterpillar”. His condition deteriorated seriously after Easter, culminating in his transfer to St. Brigid's, where he received 24 hour care for his last two weeks and died peacefully on the evening of Friday 23rd May 2003

Frank Doyle writes:
That Rhetoric 1 (6th Year) class of 1949 in Belvedere was probably unusual even for those days. Out of it came five Jesuits, two Opus Dei priests and a candidate for Clonliffe. The Clonliffe seminarian opted for the married life and the responsibilities of the family business. He was Peter Dunn, younger brother of the later to be famous Fr Joe. Of the Opus Dei priests, one has left us and the other is a nephew of the late Gen. Richard Mulcahy. Of the five Jesuits, four entered together on the same day – Harry Brennan, Frank Doyle, Denis Flannery and Percy Winder. The fifth – Donal Doyle – stayed in Belvedere for the Seventh Year and then, if I am not mistaken, did a year of pre-med before going to Emo. In the course of time, Harry also felt called to be a different kind of father.

I had known Percy, however, all during my secondary school days in Belvedere. I would not say we were very close in those days. Outside of class, our extracurricular interests were somewhat different. Percy, like his older brother Frank before him, was a great supporter of the school's Field Club. I, together with Denis, gravitated to Fr Charlie Scantlebury's Camera Club. I ended up in the school opera; Percy never made any claims to any musical talent.

Percy, Denis, Harry and myself all arrived in Emo on 7th September, 1949. As fellow-novices, Percy and I were thrown more together and got to know each other better. When Percy was made the last Beadle of our second year, I was his Sub beadle. Our term of office coincided with Major Villa, and, with the Novice Master away, there were some (perfectly harmless, I hasten to add) high jinks which Fr Donal was not pleased with when they were brought to his notice on his return. We thought they were great fun - and they were. (If only Denis Flannery were still around to remind us of the details!)

It would have been difficult not to have some fun when Percy was around. His conversation was peppered with a never ending chuckle. I never saw him depressed but that is not to say life always went smoothly. He was afflicted with a particularly distressing migraine, which came on at regular intervals. Then he would have to retire to his room and remain in darkness until it eased off. But he never complained or felt sorry for himself.

After Emo, we were in Rathfarnham together for three years though not doing the same subjects. That was the time when I was probably closest to him. Many is the time we walked together around the “track” in deep conversation. Along one side of the track there was a wire fence. Behind this was a row of evergreen trees and behind them part of the golf course. Percy regularly kept an eye out for golf balls that had been driven into the trees where it was difficult for the player to retrieve them. These Percy picked up and passed on to Fr Dick Ingram, who was a keen golfer, and who, as a result, never had to buy a golf ball.

Both in Rathfarnham and Tullabeg, Percy kept up his interest in nature, particularly in birds and butterflies. There were a lot more butterflies to be seen in those days.) At the end of philosophy, our ways parted and we seldom met during the ensuing years. He went to regency and I went to Hong Kong. We were together for one more year in Milltown for theology, and then I left to continue in the Philippines.

It must be for others to describe Percy's long and fruitful time in Clongowes. During that time he was Lower Line Prefect for 8 years before taking a sabbatical in the Holy Land. After many years as chaplain to the students, he felt it was time for a career change. I understand he had been going to Birmingham for many years to do a summer supply. It was obvious that a more permanent form of service would have been more than welcomed by the bishop, whom he knew well. Obviously, it was a great way to spend his “troisieme age”.

On one of my furloughs back from Asia (in 1990), I went to St. Beuno's in North Wales to do the “3M” course as part of a sabbatical. During the three months, there was a break when we could get away for about a week. Percy invited me to join him in Birmingham, where I was able to see first hand some of the work he was doing. He was mainly acting as chaplain to a number of institutions for the sick and elderly and also helping out in the local parish. In fact, due to the tragic death of the parish priest about that time, Percy was acting pastor. One could see how marvellously he related with the parishioners, especially the ladies, and how much they loved him. It was not surprising; he was an extremely lovable person. I suppose because he gave out so much enthusiastic love himself.

I believe that it was while in Birmingham that he got the first warnings of cancer. This eventually led him to return to his beloved Clongowes and the less strenuous responsibility of the People's Church. Here again his gift of winning friends and influencing people shone out and made a wonderful conclusion to a life of bringing hope and cheer into people's lives. He was also minister to the community.

Perhaps this very inadequate memoir is best concluded by some words from the homily given by his superior, Michael Sheil, at the funeral Mass. Michael had accompanied Percy on his final journey and was with him when he finally slipped away. Percy had written his own eulogy in touching letters he wrote to friends when he learnt that his condition was terminal and Michael quoted from these.

"Strangely”, Percy wrote, “the news didn't upset me at all. There comes a time - especially when God has given us the gift of deep and strong faith – when it is easy and exciting to accept the Good News that our destined life journey from God to God is coming to a close and that soon we'll be home. At Mass every day before Communion we ask God to keep us in peace “as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ”. Why ever should we dread the destiny for which God so lovingly created us? I feel so happy as I look back on such a happy life walking with friends and trying my best to be helpful - happy to be close at last to even greater and more unimaginable love. God is Love - and I value His embrace. As journey's end appears over the horizon, I'm happy and excited to be going home. I've no fears and no regrets - just hoping to have the strength, to using my remaining time, sharing my happiness with those I love. For the moment, I'm content to take and enjoy each day as it comes.

God does not make mistakes – nor does He make junk. We are NOT mistakes - God is moulding us into His masterpiece, delighting in His creation. So, no tears for me please -- only a song of thanksgiving that at last God is putting the final touches to that masterpiece. As St Paul says: 'We are God's work of art!

If you choose to pray for me, ask that I may have a reasonably comfortable dying and that I won't be too much of a burden. Of course, I've no more idea than you as to what heavenly life might be like. I'm content to wait and see. For me, what St Paul says is good enough: “What eye has not seen nor ear heard - these are the things that God has prepared for those who love Him”. So this is not a final Good-bye - far from it!”

Au revoir, Percy. It is not easy to say Good-bye to Percy. Two days ago someone asked me for some information and I was about to say: Well, I'll ask Percy about that! He was so much part of our lives for the past three years – he was the Homemaker of the Community -- that my reflexes had not yet attuned to the fact that he was no longer of this world. His metaphor of the caterpillar and the butterfly is well known by now - and I think that he would approve of St Paul's image that “when the tent that we live in on earth is folded up, there is a house built by God for us .... in the heavens”.

When we received Percy's Remains back home here in Clongowes on Saturday evening, I shared with you the – still fresh - memory of one of the very privileged moments of my life, as I sat at his bedside the previous evening at exactly 18.18. I was the intimate witness of two realities – one, the loss of a dear Companion in the Lord and the other, the fulfilment of Percy's dream-in-faith that God would be faithful to His promise that where I am, you also may be.

I summed up the past 5 months as Percy's living the dream - when his failing health seemed only to serve to strengthen his faith. On Friday evening as I sat beside his sick, frail, stricken and diseased body, I could only reflect on and marvel at the spirit enclosed therein, as he sank slowly and without resistance towards the destiny of us all. No struggle, no stress, simply low regular breathing......, until I had occasionally to check to ensure that he was still alive - before that unforgettable moment when I realized that, without a sound, just like his butterfly taking off, his spirit slipped away from the prison of corruptible mortality to enter into the glory of an everlasting home not made by human hands, in the heavens.

It is not easy to try to do justice to the person Percy was in the few short lines of a homily. But I am fortunate in having in my possession two letters of his from some months ago - when he was informed that his illness was terminal – letters in which he wrote to his friends of how he felt. This, surely, is Percy's act of faith - his legacy as he speaks to us this morning - the proclamation to all the world that God is faithful and near to him. So this is not a final Good-bye - far from it! For Percy's heart was not troubled – for he believed in Jesus' promise: I am going to prepare a place for you -- and I shall return to take you with Me so that where I am you may be too.....

Percy was a very active, apostolic Jesuit and priest, who, while in good health, brought God's love into the lives of many. And in the lengthening twilight of his terminal illness, God continued to use him to bring about yet another miracle of His love, as He drew from those who looked after him in the Hospice service a quite extraordinary concern for someone in need of so much medical care. Their lives have been graced by the generosity of their giving - and on behalf of us all I want to say how much their loving care for him meant to us, to whom Percy meant so much himself.

How we would have liked him to be cured and remain on with us. We made a novena in honour of Fr John Sullivan. Percy was too ill to start it off for us – but he came down on the last morning to thank us for our efforts on his behalf. At that time he said he was willing to hang around for a while longer (If it will give Fr John a leg-up!, he said) - but he had just received good news and would be quite happy to go. Perhaps to-day, he is in a better position to give the most distinguished of his predecessors, as Spiritual Father and Minister of the People's Church, that leg-up towards canonization!

Our thanks to Percy, too, for the legacy of his life of love – and of his written testament of faith. We thank God for His gifts to him - and for the gift of him to us. In his own words - This is not a final Good-bye ....... far from it. So often in life we say Good-bye ........... it comes from the ancient wish or prayer: May God be with you [Dominus vobiscum) ........... and to-day we say it to Percy at this, his last Mass.

And so we pray:
May Christ enfold you in His love - and bring you to eternal life. May God and Mary be with you. We will pray for you, Percy - may you also pray for us.

◆ The Clongownian, 2003

Obituary

Father Percy Winder SJ

Fr Percy Winder, who died at St Brigid's Hospice Unit, Curragh, Co Kildare on 23rd May 2003, was in remission from prostate cancer for the past seven years. In early January his condition deteriorated. He accepted the news of his terminal illness with great faith and kept saying that he wanted to “fly like a butterfly as he was tired of walking like a caterpillar”. His condition deteriorated seriously after Easter, culminating in his transfer to St Brigid's, where he died.

The Rhetoric class of 1949 in Belvedere was probably unusual even for those days. Out of it came five Jesuits, two Opus Dei priests and a candidate for Clonliffe. Of the five Jesuits, four entered together on the same day - Harry Brennan, Frank Doyle, Denis Flannery and Percy Winder. The fifth, Donal Doyle stayed in Belvedere for the Seventh Year before going to Emo. Percy, Denis, Harry and myself all arrived in Emo on 7th September 1949. As fellow-novices, Percy and I were thrown more together and got to know each other better. When Percy was made the last Beadle of our second year, I was his Sub-beadle. Our term of office coincided with Major Villa, and, with the Novice Master away, there were some high jinks, which Fr Donal was not pleased with when they were brought to his notice on his return.

It would have been difficult not to have some fun when Percy was around. His conversation was peppered with a never-ending chuckle. I never saw him depressed but that is not to say life always went smoothly. He was afflicted with a particularly distressing migraine, which came on at regular intervals. Then he would have to retire to his room and remain in darkness until it eased off. But he never complained or felt sorry for himself.

After Emo, we were in Rathfarnham together for three years though not doing the same subjects, That was the time when I was probably closest to him. Many is the time we walked together around the track in deep conversation. Along one side of the track there was a wire fence. Behind this was a row of evergreen trees and behind them part of the golf course. Percy regularly kept an eye out for golf balls that had been driven into the trees where it was difficult for the player to retrieve them. These Percy picked up and passed on to Fr Dick Ingram, who was a keen golfer, and who, as a result, never had to buy a golf ball.

Both in Rathfarnham and Tullabeg, Percy kept up his interest in nature, particularly in birds and butterflies. (There were a lot more butterflies to be seen in those days.) At the end of philosophy, our ways patted and we seldom met during the ensuing years. He went to regency and I went to Hong Kong. We were together for one more year in Milltown for theology, and then I left to continue in the Philippines. Percy spent a long and fruitful time in Clongowes during which time he was Lower Line Prefect for eight years before taking a sabbatical in The Holy Land.

After many years as chaplain to the students, he felt it was time for a career change. He had been going to Birmingham for many years to do a summer supply. It was obvious that the bishop, whom he knew well, would have more than welcomed a more permanent form of service. It was a great way to spend his “troisieme age”. On one of my furloughs back from Asia (in 1990), I went to St. Beuno's in North Wales to do the '3M' course as part of a sabbatical. During the three months, there was a break when we could get away for about a week. Percy invited me to join him in Birmingham, where I was able to see first hand some of the work he was doing. He was mainly acting as chaplain to a number of institutions for the sick and elderly and also helping out in the local parish. In fact, due to the tragic death of the parish priest about that time, Percy was acting pastor. One could see how marvelously he related with the parishioners, especially the ladies, and how much they loved him. It was not surprising; he was an extremely lovable person. I suppose because he gave out so much enthusiastic love himself.

It seems that it was while in Birmingham he got the first warnings of cancer. This eventually led him to return to his beloved Clongowes and the less strenuous responsibility of the People's Church. Here again his gift of winning friends and influencing people shone out and made a wonderful conclusion to a life of bringing hope and cheer into people's lives. He was also minister to the community.

Born: 28 February 1926 in Mokrzyska, Poland
Entered: 4 February 1950 in Santuaria di Galloro, Arricia, Rome, Italy (Pol Mi)
Ordained: 29 July 1965 in Milltown Park, Dublin, Ireland
Final Vows: 5 November 1977 in Chikuni, Zambia
Died: 19 December 2016 at John Chula House, Lusaka, Zambia

Apostolic Life
1956-1957, Katondwe, Kasisi, teaching, regency
1960-1962, Dublin, Belvedere, teaching
1966-1967, Karenda/Mumbwa, pastoral work
1967- Chelston, pastoral work
1968-1974, Kabwe, Mpima Minor Seminary, teaching sciences
1974-2001, Chikuni, Canisius, teaching sciences
1988-2000, school bursar
2002-2004, Choma, Mukasa, teaching, translating archive documents
2004-2005, Dublin, Poland, recovering health.
2005-2009. Choma, Mukasa, teaching science
2009-2010, Dublin, taking care of health, sabbatical
2010-2013, Chikuni, Canisius, teaching science
2013-2014, Dublin, Gardiner St., taking care of health, sabbatical
2014-2016, Lusaka, Chula House, assisting in archives, praying for Church and Society

by 1958 came to Rathfarnham (HIB) studying 1957-1961
by 1962 came to Belvedere (HIB) for Regency 1961-1963
by 1964 came to Milltown (HIB) studying 1963-1966

Father Francis Woda (Lesser Polish Province) was born on February 28th. 1926, in Mokrzyska, Krakow, Poland. He is a son of Mr and Mrs Francis Woda. In 1950 he entered the Society and after noviceship and philosophy he spent two years on the Polish Mission in Zambia. Later he came to Ireland where he graduated in Science in UCD. Before coming to Milltown Park for his theology he taught for two years at Belvedere College.