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CHAPTER 6
FIN DE SIECLE: NEW HORIZONS
Continued
St. Peter Martyr in Pittsburg is yet
another example of growth from simple mission to independent house and parish. It began as
a mission out of Antioch. In the baptismal register of Holy Rosary Church, Antioch, there
is indecision as to the name of the small settlement on the bank of the San Juaquin River,
eventually known as Pittsburg. Some entries call it Black Diamond Landing, after the coal
that was mined in the vicinity in those early days and shipped out on the river, and some
refer to it as New York Landing, so named from the hopes of some of the early settlers
that it would one day grow into a harbor that would rival those of New York. The first
family in permanent residence there was that of the O'Haras. They had a ranch on the west
side of the present city which they homesteaded in 1859. Some ten years later other
Catholics were in residence, for we find listed in the baptismal register of Holy Rosary
for December, 1875, an Anna McCue whose parents lived at Black Diamond Landing, and other
Black Diamond residents, mainly Irish, from then on. As with Antioch, when the mines began
to fail many of the old families moved out and a new type of immigrant took up residence
in the Landing. Many of these newcomers were from a single fishing village in the Province
of Palermo in Sicily known as "Isola Delle Femmine." By the 1880s the Italians
were in the majority, at first dwelling along the water front but then, as their
population grew, spreading to other parts of the village now become a thriving, bustling
little town.
The Dominicans served the people of
Pittsburg as best they could in the difficult traveling conditions at that time. They
would come sometimes from Benicia, sometimes from Martinez, but mainly from Holy Rosary in
Antioch. A chapel was built on Second Street, but it is not known when or by whom. It
burnt down in July of 1906 and from then until 1910 Mass was offered in the basement of
the Elks Hall. A new church, named after the Dominican St. Peter Martyr, was raised near
the site of the present church and blessed in 1910. It had a prominent belfry that was
used not just by the priest to summon the people to Mass but also by the fire department
whenever it had need of it.
By 1911 Pittsburg was well on its way to
becoming a fair sized city. Fishing, though still a major concern of Pittsburg, was no
longer its principal industry, having been surpassed by the Redwood Manufacturing Company
and matched by yet other industries. Italians, however, were still dominant, and they
together with Catholics of other nationalities began to demand that their little church
become independent of Antioch and a parish in its own right. Fr. McMahon, provincial at
the time, acceded to their wishes and in November of 1914 appointed Fr. Reginald Fei,
O.P., a native of Florence, Italy, the first resident pastor. The choice was inspired, for
Fr. Fei, while a fine scholar and teacher, was also warmly social and consistently devoted
not only to his parishioners but to all he would meet along the streets in his daily walks
through the city. And being a native of Italy was no small additional asset in that
"little Italy" known as Pittsburg, California. At the time of his installation
there were in the parish some 3,000 Catholics, far too many for the miniature church that
was meant to serve them, but Fr. Fei managed. He himself lived simply, in a rented house.
He wanted something better for the people and for the parish priest, but times were hard
and he was not one for pressuring the poor to give what they did not have. As early as
1916 Fr. McMahon was negotiating for property for both church and rectory and even a
parish hall, but the execution of plans was slow in developing. Plans were still being
laid as late as September, 1919, but still there were delays. About this time Fr. Fei
wrote to the provincial explaining the delay in the projected building program: "It
will be necessary to wait until the spring of 1920 because the fishermen from Alaska
returned with little profit." He also
informed the provincial of the parishioners' advice on the matter: "I was talking to
the parish about the drive for the parsonage. I have received the answer: now it is too
late, rain is near, to build now is crazy, the best thing to do is to wait until next
April. No drive, no parsonage, no cemetery, no troubles, that is the solution. Stop
all!"
The provincial in turn wrote to Hooper and
Co., Lumber Merchants, asking for the delay that Fr. Fei recommended:
May I ask you to permit
the offer to stand until next March or April? It has been brought to my attention that,
owing to the poor fishing season in Alaskan waters, the seven hundred Sicilians of
Pittsburg who are about to return from there, will bring little or no money. And from Mr.
Moran I have learned that he has so much work on hand that he could do but little on our
house before the rains set in, when the work would necessarily be unsatisfactory and
expensive.
An earlier indication of the value of Fr.
Fei in the eyes of his provincial as well as those of his people is given in a letter of
Fr. McMahon to Fr. Francis Driscoll, the current pastor of Blessed Sacrament in Seattle.
The letter, dated Jan. 14, 1917, also reveals something of the kindness, prudence,
foresight, and over-all concern that was characteristic of Fr. McMahon throughout his many
years as vicar general/provincial. It tells us, too, some interesting details of Pittsburg
at this time:
I have given a great
deal of attention to Pittsburg (formerly Black Diamond), which promises to be a large
city. There is a population there now of about 6000 and there are good reasons for
believing that in fifteen or twenty years it will be about 50000. Recently the first unit
of a great chemical plant was put into operation. It employs about 170. The steel plant
employs 259. There are more employed in the lumber yard and mill. Then there is the rubber
concern. The fish packing business has increased. Great developments are being made in
building and in extending the streets. One man, or rather a corporation, put up thirty
dwellings last year. Many laborers live in Antioch because they cannot find dwelling
places in Pittsburg. Mr. Creed, whose father-in-law was Mr. Hooper, has an immense amount
of money at his disposal for the development of the city in every way, and he is able to
attract manufacturers. He controls some of the industries that are there now, and is
looking forward to great increases in their capacities. At the steel mill they have been
using scrap metal, but after awhile they will have pig-iron from China and ore from the
mountains of California. And when further advances are made in the use of oil in blast
furnaces, there will be nothing to keep the concern from becoming a vast one.
A few days ago I went
over the city with Mr. Creed and selected a piece of ground that I got him to give for a
church and house... where the center of the city will be for ten years or more. Close by
is the great big public school. It is almost across the street from the lots I selected.
And directly opposite will be the town hall.
Father Fei has done
great work there. It is his work that encouraged Mr. Creed to give the land. We will set
about getting subscriptions for new buildings, for which funds will be furnished
immediately by the Archbishop.
Just as Father Fei gets
into a new house he will have to have an assistant. The Archbishop recognizes this. And he
sees as well as I do how the city is going to grow by leaps and bounds, and that the
Italian population will be outnumbered by what we will call an American. There is, of
course, a possibility of Father Fei's going away. But I think the probability of his going
back to Italy is remote. Confidentially I will
say that I am hoping an opening may appear at the seminary. The Archbishop esteems him
highly as a theologian and professor and I have a suspicion that he would be glad to have
him at St. Patrick's. But I do not wish to propose him, partly because I have no one to
put in his place, and partly because I wish the Archbishop to ask for him. For years, now
about eight years, I have been looking forward to the time when we could have professors
in the provincial seminary at Menlo, and in other seminaries. And in educating our men
this is one of the things I have had in mind. But much as I desire to have chairs of
theology, particularly at Menlo, I wish the Province to be in the position of one giving a
favor or granting an accommodation rather than in the position of one asking for a favor.
You see what I have in
mind. We must hold Pittsburg through Father
Fei and an assistant or through Father Fei's successor and assistant; and we must be
prepared to let him teach at Menlo if conditions there grow as they seem to be growing.
Among our students there is a fine fellow, Naselli, born in this country of Sicilian
parents. He is really very extraordinary, full of zeal and piety and brightness. Unlike so
many Italians or Sicilians he is never idle; when he is not studying he is working with
his hands. And he will not be above his people or unwilling to labor among them. He will
be just the man for Pittsburg or such a place. But we can't have his services under seven
years. In the meantime we must have someone else ready. I am wondering if you cannot
stimulate Father Sturla to study Italian so that he will be able to use it fluently, and
to take an interest in such work as Pittsburg offers. He impressed me very much while he
was here. He seemed to show ambition that was lacking formerly. I do not wish to hold out to him any kind of a
promise or hope that he may have any kind of a charge in Pittsburg; but you could make use
of some of the contents of this letter (of nearly everything but the seminary idea) to get
his thoughts turned that way. Later on, if his efforts to fit himself and his zeal and
prudence in doing what he has before him to be done warrant it, I will talk with him. At
Pittsburg he will have to be faithful to all, to Italians and to others... just as Father
Fei is. By his self-sacrifice and constant attention to his duty Father Fei has won the
hearts of all classes. Formerly the Italians were wont to insult priests, now the men
raise their hats to them.
Please begin to work
upon Father Sturla before I go to Seattle. You may expect me for the visitation within a
month, perhaps within three weeks.
Fr. Fei did in fact leave Pittsburg some
two years after the above letter was written, but not for a teaching post at the seminary.
Rather, he returned to his homeland which for sometime he had been aching for, and it was
there that eventually he was able to resume his teaching. The war had weighed heavy upon
him and it seems he was biding his time till it ended. So in a letter to McMahon, October
31, 1917, in which he spoke of the difficulty he would have in absenting himself from the
parish in order to make his annual retreat in Benicia, he notes: "No news from Rome.
Now Germans are in Italy, and I hope the war will be finished before Christmas."
Apparently it made little difference to him who won the war just so long as it ended.
Finally when the war did end, he made his move, and in another letter to McMahon, June 14,
1919, he announced his intention, adding a remark that may suggest that his five year
assignment at St. Peter's was not altogether pleasant, though more humor than seriousness
may have been intended: "I think it is my duty to announce to you that on the second
day of June, I have written to the Very Rev. Father General, asking the permission to go
back to my old country. During five years I have done enough penance in Pittsburg."
His departure from the province and provincial was gracious and friendly, but his arrival
in Italy was not at all happy, as, in his still broken English, he complained to McMahon
shortly thereafter (October 28, 1920):
I am Pastor of the
Basilica of St. Maria Novella in Florence. I
thank you for everything, and I will never forget what you have done for me. In Italy we
have many troubles, and our poverty is misery.
Father General has been
very sick. Now I write to you asking your help. Monday, the robbers have stolen to me
everythings, my clothings, writings books. I am obliged to buy all again. Our monastery is very poor. Kan you send me some
intentiones missarum to help me? It is very sad, but it is happened. In Italy we can not
find the stuff for our habit. I am very sad, my writings are lost, my sermons are lost.
Fiat voluntas tua! I have seen the Pope, and I
was talking with him during half an hour. He is very intelligent, and he knows what he
will. Father General will be in Rome, perhaps
in January. The religious conditions in Italy are terrible...
As it eventuated, Fr. George Sturla was
not appointed to take Fr. Fei's place, but rather Fr. Fred Clyne, fresh from his
chaplaincy with the Marines in WW I, and with him, as assistant, Fr. Edward Warren. It was
at this time (1922) that Mr. W.E. Creed of the Hooper Estate donated land on Eighth and
Black Diamond Streets for a rectory. The rectory was completed by the end of 1922 and the
old church was lifted from its foundations and transported to the lot directly behind it.
It was Fr. Augustine Naselli, spoken of so highly by McMahon in his letter to Fr.
Driscoll, who, as pastor finally in 1927, began and completed a drive for a new church to
be erected on the empty lot adjacent to the rectory. But it was not until the one-year
pastorate of Fr. H.H. Kelly in 1932 that the church was finished. Fr. Naselli returned as
pastor in 1945 and again began a drive for funds, now for a parish school and convent for
the sisters who were to staff it. This time he was able to stay on and complete the
project.
As Fr. McMahon had predicted, Pittsburg
had grown into a large and energetic city with a Catholic population keeping pace with its
growth. Thus the need for a parish school, but also for yet another church to provide for
Catholics some distance from St. Peter's. In 1940, under the pastorate of Fr. Joseph
Valine, a mission chapel, dedicated to St. Philomena, was built in Bella Vista to
accommodate the western sprawl of Pittsburg. Some of the older fathers still living
remember offering Mass there. But they remember especially the crowded Sunday liturgies in
St. Peter's itself in the late '40s and the '50s, ten to eleven of them, half of them in
the church itself and the other half in the hall downstairs. The Masses would be so
staggered that the preacher for the day having finished his upstairs sermon might get
downstairs in time to deliver it again! But however large the parish in population, the
priests in residence remained few in number, averaging between two to four fathers --
sometimes one, rarely five -- till in 1966 the parish was given over to the diocesan
clergy. St. Philomena's had already been surrendered in 1962, becoming the present
populous Our Lady Queen of Heaven parish.
Such small communities of Dominicans
continued to cause misgivings and qualms of conscience in the Western Congregation at
large. But it was also appreciated that the territory was missionary, which meant that
whatever the Dominican ideal, the practical situation demanded that the fathers be on the
road, often without the visible support, the tangible life of the community. For some of
the friars, in fact, community living was a rarity. Lone pastors like Fr. Henry Shaw in
Antioch and Fr. Fei in Pittsburg, with daily ministry always pressing upon them, could
scarcely make the annual community retreat let alone fulfill the daily, hourly
requirements of the Rule and Constitutions. They would have to be content with their
communal spiritual bond, with their personal prayer for their brothers and the liturgy
they prayed with the community in distantia, and with whatever thin physical links
they might manage through the writing of financial reports and letters, discussions with
the major superior in times of visitation, welcoming others of the brethren or being
welcomed by them whenever paths would happen to cross.
In this category of early lone Dominican
Fr. William Dempflin especially fits. He differed from other Dominicans who were isolated
from community life in two respects: 1) he was a wandering or itinerant preacher, not a resident
pastor; and 2) he ministered not to those of European stock who were flooding California,
but to the native Indians who were being drowned in the flood, isolated from all
community, including, often, their own, being robbed of land home, and dignity. These
people Alemany, as universal shepherd, was worried over and demanded that Vilarrasa have
the Dominicans minister to them, to which demand, as we have seen, Vilarrasa sharply
answered that Fr. Dempflin was fulfilling this work and no more Dominicans could be spared
for it. Vilarrasa would certainly have liked to have more of his men working among the
Indians, but in and through Dempflin he could rightly feel justified that the California
Dominicans were not being remiss in so urgent a ministry.
Fr. William -- seldom did he use his
surname or did others refer to him by it -- was born in Weiblingen, Germany, November
18th, 1838. His parents were poor but they saw to it that he had a proper elementary
education. At 18 he left Germany for Guatemala and there worked in the silver and gold
mines for some ten years. He must have been a prized laborer for he was a big, strong man
physically. He was described as over six feet tall, some said six three or four. He had
broad shoulders, large head and hands and feet. It was said he found it difficult to pass
through doors, having to bow and pass through sideways. In 1866 he applied to and was
accepted by the Dominican community of Guatemala City. There he made his novitiate, did
his philosophical studies, and began his studies in theology. The latter were interrupted
when the new government of 1872 confiscated the properties of religious and banished them
from the country. Fr. William might have continued on in Guatemala and become a secular
priest but apparently his heart was set on remaining Dominican. He stayed in Guatemala
living extra conventum for a time, hoping for another change in government, but
finally gave up on the expectation. He, together with seven other Dominicans, left
Guatemala and after some four thousand miles of hard travel ended up in Benicia. By order
of the Master General, he was assigned to the California congregation. He made his solemn
profession in the hands of Fr. Vilarrasa in 1875 and, in the same year, was ordained
priest by Archbishop Alemany. As he himself notes in a single page summary of his life,
his first assignment was the giving of "missions to the English, Germans, Spanish,
and Portuguese," of northern California. But he soon found his prime love: ministry
among the many tribes of the western Indians, having as "the major part" of his
work "to preach the Gospel to ten gentile Indian nations, the Apaches, Cocopahs,
Papacohs, Maricopas, and Gilas in Mexico, and the Pumas, Apaches, Pintes, Monos, Monaches,
and Diggers in the United States."
That he might better serve the Indians
Dempflin set for himself a routine from which he seldom deviated. In the fall and winter
months he would visit the various native rancherias in southern and in Baja California and
in Arizona. He would then return to Benicia for some rest and religious community life.
Spring and summer he would spend with the Indians of northern California, and then briefly
return again to St. Dominic's. In this way he could reach all his people once each year,
securing a deepening of their faith with every visit, and giving them a chance to know and
trust him better. Each of his individual visits was likewise exact and undeviating in its
routine, even down to his dress. When traveling he would wear civilian clothes with his
clerical collar, but as he reached an Indian settlement he would don his white Dominican
habit -- hence his affectionate title among the Indians as "Padre Blanco." He
arrived at each settlement at the same time each year, and after each arrival he did
exactly the same things in the same way. Midway in any particular rancheria he would send
a messenger on to the next settlement. On the following Monday he would set out in his
buck-board or on a horse, accompanied by an Indian as guide and companion. Half way to the
next stop they would be met by another Indian, who would take the other's place, and the
Padre and the new man would proceed to the settlement. Here all had been made ready, with
the temporary brush chapel prepared just for this visit, and large enough to accommodate
all in the vicinity. The tall wooden cross kept and venerated through the years would be
placed before the doorway and, within, the altar properly arranged to hold the mass
equipment Dempflin would have with him. Upon his arrival all would be there to greet him.
His guide would unhitch or unsaddle the horse and turn him into the corral. Some would try
to feed the horse but, mysteriously, it would never eat, though it was always fat. A
miracle horse! -- one of several legends that grew up around Padre Blanco. His horse may
not have eaten, but he himself did. He partook of the same fare as the Indians themselves,
which may at times include worms and grasshoppers and other like native delicacies. And he
slept as they did, fully clothed and on some grass strewn over the bare earth.
Almost immediately upon his arrival Fr.
William would begin his instructions, which would continue throughout the week. He would
lecture and then question, beginning at about eight in the morning and continuing till
evening, with, of course, appropriate breaks in between. Come Saturday, each Indian who
had reached the use of reason was expected to make his or her yearly confession. Another
legend surrounding Padre Blanco had to do with this particularly difficult requirement:
One day... a strange
thing happened on the site of El Tejon ranch. It was a sultry Saturday. The converts had
built their tule chapel in a gulley. Father William had persuaded all but four to go to
Confession. There were two men and two women. Suddenly
dark, heavy clouds appeared coming from the direction of the hills and before they were
aware of it the chapel was drenched in a cloudburst and the water began to rush in
torrents down the ravine. The Indians started to rush for higher ground but Father William
forbade them to leave. All but the recalcitrant four obeyed. Father William stood at the
chapel door, the onrushing waters divided, leaving the shack unharmed, but catching the
fugitives off their feet, drowning two of them while the other two succeeded in making
their way back to the hut.
Whatever its truth, the story travelled
far and wide among the natives and gleaned for the Padre added prestige and reverence.
Also on Saturday the neophytes and babies
were baptized and marriages blessed. Come Sunday, Mass with sermon -- a long one,
presumably, since it would be another year before this particular congregation would hear
their Padre Blanco again -- would be celebrated, and finishing-up tasks and socialization
would end the visit.
Though William adhered to his routine as
much as he could, circumstances would often demand flexibility and spontaneity and radical
changes in plan. In May of 1881 the San Francisco Monitor ran a series of
interviews with Fr. William, pretty much allowing him to tell his own story in his own
words. In the following extracts it may be seen how often unpredictable the life of this
particular missionary often was.
For five years Father
William has labored among the Indians, living as they did, their food often consisting of
horse or dog meat when such luxuries could be
had, but the ordinary bill of fare was fried grasshoppers or fat worms from Mono Lake. The
first place Father William visited was Calavaras county, in the vicinity of West Point,
where he found a small tribe of Indians whom he instructed and converted to Christianity.
He next went into Mariposa county, where he instructed and baptized a tribe of 150
Indians. After he concluded his mission here, a delegation of the Fresno Indians waited on
him and asked his services in converting them to Christianity. Accordingly the Father
proceeded to Fresno Flat, where he succeeded in baptizing the whole tribe of 300 Indians....
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