In the climate of today’s Catholic church, hell hath no fury like a family accusing a priest of sexually abusing their child. Usually the fury is expressed through civil litigation, and the cases can be exceedingly bitter, pitting Catholics against the institution of their faith. Since 1985, more than 200 American priests and brothers have been reported for molesting minors, in most cases boys–an average of one case every ten days. The financial toll has been steep. Nationwide, scores of personal injury suits have been brought, with more than $300 million paid to victims by dioceses and their insurers.
Call them the Does–John, Jane, and their son Richard: that is how they are identified in the legal papers. But in contrast to the Minnesota case, there has been no admission of guilt by the alleged offenders. Church attorneys have mounted a brass-knuckles defense.
We pass the Santa Fe and Illinois Central junction, where passenger trains once funneled into the Loop. The red tower of a soap factory burnishes the blue sky. Then the car heads down Damen, past row upon row of brick bungalows. The darkened brick and medieval spires of churches emerge and recede in traffic, and John Doe grows more animated.
The immigrant church of John Doe’s childhood is becoming an anachronism in other ways as well. Although the Catholic population has mushroomed to 52 million nationally, the church is severely short of priests. Since the mid-70s, an average of 1,300 priests have resigned yearly, mainly because of the celibacy requirement, while seminary enrollment has plunged more than 80 percent–from 48,000 in 1965 to less than 9,000 today. Few rectories have eight priests. At the present rate, by the year 2,000, about 15 percent of U.S. parishes will have no priests at all.
She recalls one case that now holds special meaning for her. A man was accused of abusing his son and daughter in his home. “The little boy was epileptic,” she recalls, “and the father’s treatment of his seizures was to tie the child in a chair and beat him with a chain. The little girl had been held down by her father and raped by four of his friends. The children were in protective custody, terrified of court, terrified of their father. The mother was around, knew, and was a mope. I represented the children, and the state’s attorney asked if I’d help prepare them for testifying. We knew a lot from what the brother had told the social worker and the girl had told her foster mother. We were worried about the girl; she had gone into a near-catatonic state in a pretrial meeting when we asked her questions.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
The court record does not include psychological evaluations of the priest and principal (which does not mean that none exist), nor does it offer much insight into church investigations or safeguards. Rather the record affords a detailed picture of events from the Does’ viewpoint. What is presented here is an account based on available documents, buttressed by interviews with those who were willing to talk.
