The intrepid Jim Mc Donnell, visiting from Division 1 AOH in Rockland County NY,
(and known as “ The Voice”, because of his great speaking voice) was my pitchman.
Sounding like Ed Mc Mahon of the famed Johnny Carson Show, Jim was constantly
announcing on the public address system, “ Come on over and say hello to Fr. Mc
Manus. He has written a great book. You all should read it”.
Fr. Mc Manus, who in the early years of his campaigning, had been to Chicago many
times, but had not been back for about 15 years, recalled: “ Chicago had the
reputation of the most fractious city on the Irish issue — splits, counter-
splits, then more splits. But on this occasion I did not meet with one negative
reaction from among the thousands of people attending the Irish Fest. There was,
however, one funny “ pretend-negative” response. An elderly Irish-born woman wagged
her finger at me and in feigned indignation said, “ Fr. Mc Manus I have a most
serious complaint about your book.” “What is it”, said I, playing along. She replied
: “ My husband bought a copy yesterday and sat up reading it until 4 AM. You ruined
my sex life”. I shot back, “ You should be thanking me for keeping that old Irishman
from bothering you”. She doubled over laughing and ran off to tell her husband what
I said.
There was also a somber, moving moment. A big quiet, shy, guy came up and asked me
to sign a book to his parents. Then he paused, and said, “ Could you write something
else on it, Father?” I said sure. “ Please write, “ Tom (not his real name) will be
fine”.
I said that sounds like a prayer and a blessing “ Tom”.
He said it was and that his parents were very worried about him because he was going
back on his fourth mission to Afghanistan – and on the previous three missions he
had last a third of his team.
Sitting next to me was a very spiritual lady and she immediately asked him was he
wearing a St. Michael medal (the defender against principalities and powers).
He immediately dug under the neck of his shirt, and, producing a medal, said, “ No.
I am wearing a St. Gerard medal”. Being a Redemptorist, that immediately got my
attention, and I pointed out the Redemptorist saint was the Patron Saint of pregnant
mothers. He said, “ That’s why I am wearing it. When my mother was pregnant with me,
the doctors told her she would lose her baby. She prayed night and day to St. Gerard
and I was safely delivered”.
When I told him I was a Redemptorist, he was quite overcome and said, “ My Mother
will now know God brought me here today”. I said a prayer with him and he went off
with a spring in his step.
For some reason I found the moment most poignant. Whatever one thinks of wars or why
they happen, on the ground -level there is the individual soldier/civilian who is
trying to do his duty, and hoping he will come out of it alive”.
END.