Dorothy Days Catholic Worker Movement, Pat DeAngelis (Oct 8, 1938 – Dec 23, 2012), the Free Cooper Union and me ------------------------------ This same place, 2 years later, I am here once again at the Mary House of the Catholic Worker for Christmas Eve Mass. I guess this is where it all began. The Winter of 2012 I was a lost soul. By and large, I still am but in quite a different manner. Back in 2012, the tuition crisis at school had just begun. There was a week-long lock-in occupation. Things was just starting to get real. But I was mostly just love-sick. That Christmas I was here all alone. On Christmas Eve that year, I woke up at around 3pm. I thought it would be nice to head over to church. But then, which one? In the gridded city of Manhattan, there are churches on almost every block. Growing up a Catholic, naturally, I thought of heading over to St. Patricks Cathedral, which is 60 blocks away from where I live. “It would be a nice walk,” I thought to myself and the journey began. ------------------------------ As soon as I stepped out, I got distracted rather quickly. Instead of heading north and west on Broadway, I took a detour east deep into the East Village. “Oh there is church! Let me go in, let me check it out,” I thought. As an architecture student for nearly 6 years at that point. I did I do naturally – walked right in. I walked into these Christian churches without even knowing their names or origins. Female priest? Church without an altar? Weird but whatever. It was generally interesting to different kinds of Christianity and I stayed for the whole service anyways. So just like that – an innocent-looking Asian kid churches hopping, church after church. At around 6pm, I was still on 3rd street, 50 blocks away from St. Patrick in midtown. I saw down the street a beautiful church tower. It is part Baroque, part Romanesque, revival style anyways. And of course I would follow the lead and walked right in. It is a Catholic church named Church of Most Holy Redeemer. Mass had just begun and I did not want to draw to much attention. I sat all the way in the back. Well, I remember in particular the grandiosity of this church really contrasted the emptiness of the seats. Ah! Downfall of all Churches. What can you do? ------------------------------ A woman dressed in black and wore a Russian hat crept by and sat next to me. I thought, she must be just like me, poor lady all alone. After the Mass, she was curious why I was even there. My eyes were getting watery alright but almost everyone alone here. So I thought, “Whats YOUR problems? Being alone is just part of New York living for Christs sake!” No I didnt say that out loud but I did tell her I was on my way to the St. Patrick. She asked whether I would be interested visiting a couple other churches in the neighbor. “hell yeah!” I love seeing different kinds of churches for my architectural curiosity and still got four more hours to kill anyways. So we headed out to a couple of churches. All pretty much pretty refreshing to me. I meant, have you been to a candle-lite Russian church? And the kind of church architecture is like a barn building in the middle of East Village, and the interior are all gilded timber and would just remind you of the Siberia? We have spent a good hour here, there, standing. In the Russian Orthodox churches we went to, I remembered, everyones standing. A good hour which felt much longer when you dont understand Russian. But nevertheless, it was an interesting experience. The church services werent really finished but we moved on. We then walked over to this place right next to a gas station, not much of a church I thought. She knocked on this small door reads “St. Joseph House”. A man appeared to be homeless answered the door and told us to walk up 2 blocks to the Mary House. At that time I though I must be in a Murakami novel and there is no way out until sunrise or 500 pages later. Oh, I forget to mention, the lady showing me around named Helen stratford. Apparently, she is an actress and a famous East Village Accordion Player. ------------------------------ So here we arrived at Mary House minutes later and greeting us was another homeless-looking person. I began to get it. I lived down the Bowery so I encounter dozens of homeless people everyday. On my way to school, I would pass by the Salvation Army, the Bowery Mission, the Andrew House, etc, etc. But as I began to grasp whats going on, I realized the Mass down in the basement of this place seemed to be a little different. There are about 30 people in the room, blacks, whites, old, and young, a whole mix. There were really old people but also kids my age and babies as well. It says “The Catholic Worker” on the wall. The Mass, as I said, is held down in the basement of a building. There were no brass candle holders, gilded altar piece, or even an upright piano. It is an area adjacent to a communal kitchen, therefore, it is actually a dinner room. The whole setup is pretty much like an underground church. The Mass is still pretty much what you would get from a Catholic church, expect there were no altar boys, no choir, and no fancy ceremony. And we sat on folding chairs. Whats more? In the middle of the Gospel, a cat casually walked down the aisle greeting everyone and it seemed to be just part of the norm there. After the Mass, I learned that this place was founded by Dorothy Day and these people are religious socialists. They are radicals? I have exchanged contacts with Helen and without giving it too much thought, I headed off continuing my journey. That night, I went on my journey to a few other churches along the way to St. Patricks Cathedral, which is on 5th Ave and 52nd Street. By the time I got there of course the Cathedral was packed and I couldnt even sneak in. I causally walked cross 5th Ave, and went into the Saint Thomas Episcopal Church instead. The service finished precisely at midnight and the church bells rang. This time, I faced south and then walked the 60 blocks all the way home. ------------------------------ Two days later, I learned that Pat DeAngelis, our beloved then secretary of the Cooper Union architecture school, had just passed away on Dec 23rd. It turned out that she was actually one of the original Mary House Workers and a life-long activist hidden in plain-sight. I would have surely run into her during that underground-dinner-room Mass. Two years later, I went back to the same dinner room for the first time tonight. Now I thought to myself, perhaps subconsciously, I have joined the Free Cooper Union, a student activist group at Cooper, because of Pat, of Helen, of Dorothy Day, and of the experience and everyone I have met that night in 2012. Tonight I have vowed to God, that I will follow Pats and Dorothys footsteps, to become a religious socialist, to serve God and defend social justice for the rest of my life. And my mission begins tomorrow, on the day of Christmas, volunteering at the Catholic Workers Mary House. ------------------------------ Further Reading: About Helen: thevillager/2014/08/27/through-all-the-changes-accordionist-plays-on/ About Pat: https://groups.google/forum/#!topic/national-cw-e-mail-list/3xxT4Ofv1QE About Dorothy: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dorothy_Day
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 08:05:09 +0000
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