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Source: Ignatius M – Clergy Guest Presentation – Date Unknown.mp3 File: ignatius-m-clergy-guest-presentation-date-unknown.mp3 Duration: 00:27:47
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Our first speaker this afternoon, Monsignor Ignatius M., is known to many of us, and he is of the Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Chicago, and he is more affectionately known to the many of us as Father Mack. I give you Monsignor M.. Well, thank you very much, Rudy, and it is indeed a privilege to be here with you people this afternoon, and the crowd here is very wonderful. I'm very surprised to see such a great number here this afternoon.
It's my good fortune to be appointed by the Archbishop of Chicago to be on the staff of the Catholic Charities, and the Catholic Charities has a mission known as the Holy Cross Mission, and this mission was founded in the year of 1916, so this year we're in business 50 years. Now, it was a most apropos place for a mission because this was the site of the Haymarket Riots back in 1884, I believe. There was a movement known in those days, the Knights of Labor, and they were militating for an eight-hour day.
And the convention broke up late on a Sunday afternoon when one of the men who was over-agitated threw a bomb into a group of policemen, and quite a few people were maimed and some people were killed. And even today, if you go to Randolph and Des Plaines Street, you see a model of an old policeman standing on a pedestal, and it's the scene of the Haymarket Riots. And it was only natural then, since this was the Haymarket in the old days, and Chicago was powered by horses and wagons, that the farmers used to come in with their wagons of hay and the hay would be sold in the market.
And the farmers would be saddled sore and weary after coming in long distances from their farm, and they would have to stay someplace for the night. And you have the genesis and origin of Chicago's West Madison Street being a home for, in those days, for homeless farmers for a day or two. And the expression often used is skid row. Yet after working and living on the street for 20 years, I never heard any man ever use the expression skid row. Skid row is not a piece of real estate, it's a state of mind.
And the man who is sick on West Madison Street can also be found, men similar to him, in the Waldorf Astorias and the Conrad Hiltons. We have our Conrad Hiltons on West Madison Street, like the Working Men's Palace and the Legion Hotel and the Peerless and the McCoy and the Mohawk. Within the area of one mile in Chicago's so-called derelict area, close to 10,000 men habitate there. Within this area, the man who is down and out, who considers himself useless and a burden to society, takes up residency.
And he has stumbled into a state that society finds it difficult to tolerate. It seems strange now. A couple of weeks ago, there was a meeting in an effort, what to do with the men after West Madison Street is decimated or annihilated. And quite a few men were in that room that all had more than 100 years' experience in West Madison Street. Brigadier Quinn was attending the meeting, Father Higgins from the Cathedral Shelter, and Reverend Borman from the Dawes Industrial Center, and myself.
And some of the big names in the city of Chicago in the field of urban renewal wanted to know, what do these men like to do? Just like there were people from Mars. We tried to tell them, do you like to read a newspaper? These men on West Madison Street like to read a newspaper. Do you like to watch TV? These men like to watch TV. Do you like to play cards? These men like to play cards. And it seems strange in the year of 1966, after all the wonderful work through the years that's been done since Alcoholics Anonymous was founded in 1934, that there are so many people ignorant of who this person is and that he is a human being.
[00:05:04]
Only three to five percent, we do know, of the nation's people who are having trouble with this sickness populate the so-called derelict men areas throughout any city, big or small. And if anybody was a stranger in Chicago and walking down West Madison Street, they may get the idea that an awful lot of men on that street do not work, and nothing is further from the truth. There's only about 30 percent of the men who are afflicted with alcoholism on that street. Some of them would be excessive drinkers or heavy drinkers, or someone has resorted and found an awful lot of serenity and sobriety in the AA program.
But many of these men, if you walk down during the day, they may have jobs during the evening in the various restaurants and hotels and houses. Well, the age of automation has hit West Madison Street. An awful lot of these men were pin setters for many, many years. And with the automation, many of these men have lost jobs. As a result, quite a few of the hotels on West Madison Street now are running just half of the population because of the fact that these men are not earning the money.
Most of the men on the street, I would say the majority of them, operate on a salary of about $86. And if you take $25 out of that check every month from their rocking chair money, you haven't got much money to operate on. Yet a hamburger on the corner of West Madison Street cost as much as it would at Broadway and Lauren's. A package of razor blades at the corner of Halstead and Madison and the United Cigar Store or the drug store, the Haymarket Drug Store, cost equally as much.
In 1951, when AA was only 17 years old, it was hitting the long ball in those days like Willie Mays. In daily mass and feeble prayer, God is thanked by the speaker for giving the world in general, in Chicago in particular, and especially the neighborhood in which I am privileged to work in, for the AA organization. Alcoholism is neither morally good nor morally bad. It's something that's indifferent in itself. Even though alcohol in itself is not intrinsically evil, it is amazing how many sins, misdemeanors, felonies, disorderly conduct, peace bonds result from alcoholism.
The person so afflicted loses his job. This means that his wife and children suffer deprivation and want. They say nothing that they're being ostracized by their doctors, by their clergymen, by their families, by their friends, by their bosses, and by the community. The sick person spends his check extravagantly and the wife and children resultingly suffer. Alcohol may make him fellicose. If so, the wife and children are subjected and mistreated. Bodily harm may follow. Invectives are hurled. Foul, obscene language is employed.
Neighbors cringe. Jobs are lost. Banks foreclose mortgages. Triangles figure. Children are abandoned. Many marriages terminate in separation or in divorce. In court orders of support, too often are ignored or scuttled. Incarceration may follow or the sick person may resort to the geographical cure as many men on West Madison Street do. No two people are alike, therefore any generalization is very dangerous.
This is an individual sickness, as you men and women well know, and each sickness develops according to a personal and a unique pattern. It's strange, too, that oftentimes a clergyman is sought out before a doctor. Just the other day in talking to a woman who finally confronted herself that she does have a serious problem and called upon a member of AA to converse with her and counsel with her, she had gone to a priest friend of hers and the priest friend said that he didn't have any tolerance for anybody so afflicted.
We must realize that all clergymen are not equipped to counsel. Some are ill-equipped to counsel. Some have not any tolerance for a person so afflicted. Some persons, sad to say, some clergymen, like the doctors, are not even interested. Religious motivation is a powerful force, but it's not the only force, and too often clergymen resort to this as the first instrument, and it is not good. A person must find sobriety, we all know, before he finds God.
[00:10:14]
Institutionalization or incarceration is not synonymous with rehabilitation. If that were so, West Madison Street would look like Tag Day in Glasgow many, many days, with the meat wagons going up and down West Madison Street, pulling these men up and throwing them en masse into the meat wagon to take them over to Monroe and Racine Street for the police corps. And yet we know a man on the street who had spent more, he had been in the Bridewell farm for 110 times. Now you'd feel that man was without any motivation at all. Quite a few men in our area know who this man is.
And after 110 times plain return engagement as a guest at the Bridewell and the farm, this man is now making a serious stab at sobriety at the age of 59 years old because he found his way into AA and he found acceptance. What a tremendous lift to him. About 500 men die in West Madison Street every year, and this week we had the funerals of two men. And this morning at St. Charles Church a man from West Madison Street was buried. There were five people in the church.
The priest who said the mass, we'll divorce him from the five. There were four men who were acting as pallbearers and myself. The four men who were the pallbearers for this homeless man from West Madison Street are working the AA program at the Mid-City Chapter. People in our work encounter the angle shooter and you people do this also. The man who comes in and he's on a shakedown cruise, he's not seeking sobriety, but he's trying to profit by his venture or his brush with us.
Our mission assists the person who is willing to help themselves. Six nights a week there's an AA meeting at the Holy Cross Mission, the Mid-City group. In 1951 Monsignor Cook and myself made contact with a couple of men from AA and they were very happy. After conferring about four weeks and talking to quite a few men on the street, they were very willing and very ready to establish the AA beachhead on West Madison Street.
And for the number of years now, for 15 years, an awful lot of success stories are being written on that street because of the wonderful organization of AA. We provide meal tickets and grocery orders to assist a man if he needs it. Only God keeps track of the 12-step call made by many, many men who are graduates of the Mid-City group and men from other areas, other groups who are very giving and very generous of themselves coming down to see us.
You know from your experience that giveaway programs can be very dangerous and disastrous, and we try to install a system, instead of giving something away, to establish a loan to give this man dignity, to put a vote of confidence in him that somebody is willing to stake him. Say he gets a job and he's not going to be paid for two weeks, then we are ready and willing to give him the money for the two weeks to help him out. And we found out that this is a tremendous thing and the rehabilitation of the man in this parlayed with the AA way of life spells many a success story.
Our counselors try to reveal to the person seeking our resources that this is not a handout or a charity, but we are willing to put a vote of confidence in him, and sometimes we ask the person, if he feels that way, to sign a note similar to a loan agency. And this also is a step in the right direction. We haven't any brick in our check. On his check, this is our testimonial to his desire of acquiring and maintaining sobriety.
We help him to seek employment, and there are many people in this room, I'm sure, who call us from time to time or let other people know that there are men available down at our mission, also at Fr. Higgins Cathedral Church. Also at Father Higgins, a Cathedral Shelter, or at the Harbor Light, and it's a crime the
[00:15:04]
way some of these men on West Madison Street in the slave marks operate. There was one fellow operating on that street, it's strange, the fellows that operate these slave marks on West Madison Street, they usually come down to start a slave mark and then they wind up owning a tavern, conducting a slave mark, then they put a little ulcer factory into the tavern and they call that a restaurant, and then they have a flop house.
And what they usually do then, one fellow that was operating on that street, it was very difficult, what he would do, he would give a man a job provided he ate in his tavern, he drank in his tavern, and he flopped in his flop house. And every day his station wagon would be there and he would charge 50 cents a ride to the place of employment, 50 cents back, that's one dollar. Then he would sell him two bologna sausage sandwiches, cut with a razor blade and hard to see through a microscope practically, and you had to buy two sandwiches, not one.
For this munificence you had to pay another dollar. Now this is another dollar that's going to be taken out at the end of the day. When the fellow came back after a stevedore's day of work, worn out and weary, he'd be paid off in this man's tavern. As the man was paying him off, he'd say, would you want a drink? And of course you'd like a sandwich. And then he takes out the money for the flop for the night.
By the time this gentleman gets his money back, you can readily see how much is left. We ask our men that come in, what does he want the most out of life? How badly does he want it? Can it be achieved with the help of alcohol, and will it last? And giving men questions like that, they have an awful lot of time to think about it. Oftentimes I'm asked by the men on the street after they experience a span of sobriety, and then they have a slip, father are you mad at me?
And of course I say I'm not mad, they're really mad at themselves. And the reason why they ask me that question, they'll say, well you know father, the only reason in the world I'm staying sober is because of you. And I tell them that's the world's worst reason for being sober. We're not supposed to stay sober because of a person or a thing, but of a philosophy. And the greatest philosophy in life is the double-A way of life.
I could go to sleep tonight and wake up in eternity. The person that's staying sober for me or for you wouldn't have any reason to stay sober or to stay serene anymore. We could walk out of here today and be hit by a truck. And if we're the cause of somebody's sobriety, then that will never work out. So these people have to stay sober because of a way of life and because of themselves. Always remember in our daily dealings with these people, that Christ's philosophy of life was E for effort and D for accomplishment.
So no matter how often these people cover themselves with confusion, we always identify with them. We always stay committed. We always remain understanding. And we never give up on anybody. God never gives up on us until the day the undertaker picks up our bodies. And we should never give up on any person, no matter how hopeless or how helpless he or she may be. And I would say that today there is a terrific kick on counseling.
And all the big universities have these courses, and all the big industries have courses. And what is the object of it? The object of it is for the person to get to know himself or herself. And who has a greater blueprint of life in getting to know oneself than the people who are on the AA program? Self-knowledge is a tremendous thing, and there's not going to be any growth or development in anybody's personality unless the person has a fearless self-awareness in what the program that the Alcoholics Anonymous has, there's a tremendous amount of a self-inventory.
While working in New York City one summer about 20 years ago, doing a fieldwork assignment, I resided on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Many tenement houses lined this street, and on this hot and dusty slum street, scores of children, big and small, would port out of the doors to engage in 1,001 childish games
[00:20:05]
and pursuits. Many of the children saving their shoes for Sunday were barefoot. Almost daily one could notice a plainly dressed woman stopping, bending low every now and then to pick up some object. One day the patrolman noticed this woman stooping to pick something up, to hide it in the apron that she was wearing. Finally he strode up to her in a gruff voice, demanded, what are you carrying in your apron?
At first the woman did not answer. She seemed reticent, retiring, and shy. Then the policeman, thinking that she must have found the Hope Diamond, threatened her with arrest if she did not reveal what was in that apron. The woman smiled, she opened the apron, and she disclosed about eight or ten pieces of broken glass, all sizes and all shapes. What do you want with that, demanded the officer. The woman replied, I just thought I'd take it out of the way so that children will not cut their feet.
That my dear ladies and gentlemen of AA is exactly what you have been doing the length of 24 hours, whether it be one day, one week, one month, a year, or 25 years. You have been making the way smooth for some other sick person, a man or woman, traveling the daily turnpike of life. There is a great deal of broken glass in the lives of all of us, little pieces and big pieces, jagged pieces, razor-sharp pieces, that make the going painful, detrimental, and trying not only for ourselves but others and dear friends and acquaintances.
There are the broken mirrors of pride, of vanity, of resentment, the broken hourglasses of wasted time, the broken bottles of empty promises, the broken windows of broken homes. There are the broken plates of friendship. There are the broken neon lights on the empty theraphers of pleasure. There are the broken milk bottles of the helpless, dependent children. Each of us receives an equal allotment of time, a portion of 24 hours every day.
Why can't those 24 hours a day be similar to one of the hip tunes of the roaring 20s? There are 24 hours of sunshine every day that you are around. That is serenity. Almost anything in the world can be bought for money except the warm impulses of the human heart. Rings and jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only real gift is a portion of yourself. In your 12-step work, you aren't giving apologies for gifts.
You aren't giving a portion of yourselves. Success is a journey, not a destination. Happiness is bound to be found along the way, not at the end of a road. You are finding happiness and serenity every hour of the day. We pray today that God our Father will help us to grow daily in thoughtfulness, in kindness, in solicitude, in patience, in zeal, and in courtesy. God forbid that the dreariness of the homeless, unfortunate alcoholic ever lower our standards of sincerity for our brother.
That never the unattractiveness, the lack of personality, the nagging talents of your brother or sister alcoholic ever diminish or lessen the dignity of your approach. Pray daily that you do not perform the 12-step work like a robot or an automat. That this 12-step work will not become as mechanical as one of the gadgets of the day. Ask daily the high power for tact, for wisdom, for prudence in decisions, in difficulties, and in emergencies.
Ask the endowment to exercise discretion and reserve in the intimacies of anonymity. Seek a talent for silence concerning much that you must see and that you must hear. Ask God the higher power for a warm understanding heart, not a callous one. Remember, my dear ladies and gentlemen, on Judgment Day when God asks us and measures
[00:25:03]
us for vital statistics, he's going to put a tape around our heart, and you, the men and women of AA, he's going to run out of tape. I thank you very much. What can one say after a message of that kind? What a story. What a message. The only thing I can say, but for the grace of God and A.A., there would I go. I would like to add a little bit. Some of you know that there has been a book written entitled The Liquid Cross of A.A.
It's recently off the press, written by William F. Gleason. He's a writer for the Chicago American, and without going into a whole long story on this, this is an absolutely honest, fast-moving, often brutal story of life among the down-and-out alcoholics of Chicago's Skid Row, an area known to its inhabitants as The Street. The Liquid Cross of Skid Row brilliantly dramatizes the plight of Skid Row's alcoholics, and it also tells of the wonderful work done by those in the area and Monsignor M., and it says Monsignor Ignatius M., the angel to the street's derelicts.
I haven't as yet had a chance to read this book. I just acquired a copy, and I'm sure that it's not a plug exactly for the book, but it's just as off the press, and it's a moving story from what I understand. I would like to sincerely thank each and every one of you for the wonderful cooperation in subsiding the din that was in the back of the room, and it just shows you how a group of AAs and their friends will respond to a request to cooperate.
It's real inspiring because it was real quiet in the back of the room. Again, I'd like to remind you after this meeting that dinner tickets are still available for the banquet, and if you'd please try to get them promptly after this session.