HOLY NAME HIGH 1960 - 1968
(Excerpt from the autobiography I am writing)

In April 1949, I was ordained a priest for the diocese of Cleveland. My first assignment was at St. Mary Church in Elyria, Ohio, where I served under William L. Newton, who had taught me scripture at Saint Mary Seminary in Cleveland. I loved being a parish priest and I cried five years later in 1954 when I was sent to teach English and Latin to high school students at the minor seminary.

When I was on retreat in late May of 1960 John Krol, our auxiliary bishop, called me to tell me that I was to become principal and director of Holy Name high school, a coeducational school of 1000 that since 1914 had been a parish school. He told me to finish my retreat and then report to Monsignor Charles McDonough, the pastor of Holy Name parish. During the few retreat days I had left, I reflected on some of the problems I had heard about Holy Name. I decided that after the retreat I would call Krol to discuss these problems.

When I asked for an appointment Krol tried to brush me off. “George, there are no problems. Just report to the pastor on June 10.” But I was not going to back off.

“Bishop,” I said, “I have been ordained 10 years. During that time I have heard some stories about Holy Name high school, so I want to know what’s going on and how much authority I have as principal.”

“Come in tomorrow at two o’clock,” he said.

When I met with him a day later he told me that Sister Mary Omer, the Mother General of the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati, had told Archbishop Hoban that if a priest were not appointed principal of the school, she was going to withdraw the 24 sisters at the high school and the eight sisters at the grade school down the street. That got Hoban’s attention.

The pastor of Holy Name, Right Reverend Charles McDonough, was a good man who knew little about running a high school. The physical condition of the school was deplorable. The toilets for the boys and for the girls were outside. The athletic department ran the school. Football was king. Every Friday, a rally lasted from 9:00 AM to 3:00 PM, not only during the football season but during the basketball and baseball seasons. The pastor in his cassock with the red piping would sit in the middle of the gym. Each homeroom would be assigned a Friday to be in charge of the rally. The kids thought this was great, but the faculty (except for some coaches) were appalled.

At our meeting Krol told me that I had complete authority. I was not to ask permission of the pastor for anything. McDonough would be a figurehead, nothing more. He was not to be involved in the hiring or firing of teachers and staff. If inside lavatories were needed, I was to hire a contractor to do the job. If windows or desks had to be replaced, I was to buy them and send the bills to the chancery. It was my call.

The only problem was that Krol did not tell this to the pastor. I had to do this the day after McDonough hosted a small dinner party for me. At the party, he announced to the guests that I was the 18th priest who had been sent to him to be an assistant. After lunch the next day I asked to see McDonough in his office.

“Monsignor,” I said, “last night you said that I was the 18th priest sent to you as an assistant. I am not your assistant,” I said.

“What are you?” he asked.

“I am the director and principal of the high school.”

“You mean that you are taking the high school away from me?’

“No, the diocese is.”

“You mean that I have nothing to say about the running of the high school?”

“You can make suggestions,” I said, “but if I judge those suggestions are not in the best interest of the school, I reserve the right to veto them.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said. He told me he was going down to the chancery office to see Krol. He left but was back in an hour and handed me the checkbook and the keys to important high school documents in the parish safe.

One might think I rejoiced about this. But I did not. In fact, I felt sorry for the man. He believed he was being demoted and felt diminished in the eyes of his peers. The diocese could have handled the situation much earlier and much more humanely. I say that because Monsignor Clarence Elwell, the superintendent of Catholic schools, lived in the Holy Name parish rectory. He was well aware of the deplorable conditions of the high school and should have told McDonough to correct the situation, but he did not.

That miserable task fell to me. I became a key figure in this charade, and over the course of the years I still regret that I let myself be used. I lived at the rectory for eight years with that pastor. At the beginning there was great tension, but over the years relations between us improved. When I was reassigned several years later, he graciously hosted a dinner party and gave me a watch as a going away present.

Krol told me to come back in six months and tell him what I thought should be done at the school, which shared 3 ½ acres with the parish church. There was absolutely no room for expansion because the property was hemmed in by two railroad tracks and two busy streets – Harvard and Broadway Avenues. The solution was obvious: move the high school to a new location and have the parish grade school three blocks down the street take over the buildings vacated by the high school. I suggested ten possible locations for the new Holy Name. Krol asked me to point them out on a map, which I did.

“Bishop,” I said, “only one property in Holy Name parish is large enough for a new high school. It has 100 acres of land and the diocese owns it.”

“We own it?” He asked in disbelief. “Show me on that map where it is.”

I pointed to Calvary Cemetery which still had about 150 acres left for graves.

Smiling, he said, “George, the diocese will never give you any of that land for a new high school.”

“I know that, Bishop, but if the pastor insists that the new high school has to be in his parish, that’s the only tract of land available.”

“We’ll meet again,” he said. ”Thank you for coming in.”

That was his signal that the meeting was over. I left, confident that John Krol would resolve the issue, but a couple of weeks later the Vatican appointed him Archbishop of Philadelphia.

When Bishop Hoban called a meeting to settle the Holy Name issue, Superintendent Clarence Elwell (later bishop of Columbus), his two assistants, and two other chancery people outvoted me 5 to 1 to relocate the high school.

What to do with Holy Name, however, remained an agenda item for the next several years. In 1968 I was reassigned to become dean of the graduate division of St. John College of Cleveland. Finally, in 1977 the diocese moved the high school to the city of Parma and the grade school took over the buildings that were vacated. I applauded the decision but felt sad that it took 16 years to do something that was obvious in 1961.

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