A Duty Sanctioned
By Brenda Anderson O’Halloran
Copyright 2016 by St. Columban Church
Chillicothe, Missouri
CHAPTER 1
Father Francis Moenning
Christmas was only two days away. Fr. Francis woke up worried. He had
slept only a little. He had prayed endlessly throughout the cold, dark night,
petitioning God, the angels, and the saints for help with his problem. Now it was
almost dawn. One thought kept pounding in his head. “It’s up to you, Francis, my
faithful servant.” Was that the voice of God?
Fr. Francis had been at the church only two months. While serving at Wien,
Missouri, as pastor and superior of the Franciscan Friary there, he had been
surprised to receive a letter from the Bishop of St. Joseph, John J. Hogan. Bishop
Hogan asked the Franciscan fathers to take over St. Columban Parish in
Chillicothe, Missouri, including its missions at Utica, Springhill, Bedford, and
Hogan’s Settlement, along with the churches at Breckenridge in Caldwell County,
and at Brunswick, an easy trip southeast by railroad. The Sisters of St. Joseph
serving in Chillicothe had repeatedly requested that the Bishop bring in the
Franciscans. With God’s will and all things working out, the plan was made. Father
Francis and his assistants, Fr. Bonaventure and Fr. Theodore, had arrived in
Chillicothe in October 1878.
Fr. Francis sighed as he approached the altar of the small white frame
church to light the candles. A freight train rumbled loudly down the nearby tracks.
The number of faithful parishioners who gathered in the small nave seemed
larger than usual for a Monday morning. Every time the church doors opened, the
pews were filled. Today was December 23, 1878. As Fr. Francis stepped forward,
he made the sign of the cross and uttered, “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti.” The morning mass had begun.
As the mass progressed, Fr. Francis prayed for Divine guidance that he
might find the wisdom to meet the needs of his flock. His heart felt heavy and his
head pounded. One thought kept repeating in his head. “You can solve the
problems, Francis. Act wisely.”
After the benediction, Fr. Francis went to the church door to greet the
departing faithful. Joseph Pierson, a local businessman now retired, shook Fr.
Francis’ hand and invited him to walk uptown for breakfast. Fr. Francis went for
his coat and hat, then the two men trudged across the railroad tracks. The wind
seemed to whistle through their coats as they headed north six blocks toward the
center of town and entered Mr. Pierson’s favorite restaurant.
They talked of the Pierson family business east of Chillicothe, now in the
capable hands of Joseph’s son, Frank. From other parishioners, Fr. Francis had
learned that Joseph had always been a kind and generous man, both to his
employees and to his neighbors. The Pierson family seemed ever ready to
contribute to good causes that would promote the town they had lived in since
1871. Fr. Francis wondered if Mr. Pierson might be the right man to help him
convince the people of the parish of the need for a new church building.
Inside the warm restaurant, over plates of fried ham and eggs and mugs of
steaming coffee, the men talked about the growing size of the congregation.
“They tell me this town started growing after the War Between the States
ended,” Mr. Pierson explained. “I believe we have nearly 4000 people here now.
The railroad has helped with that. Bishop Hogan counted just 12 families at the
time he started our church here. Why, his first mass in Mrs. Bell’s house had a
congregation of only two. How many families do we have now, Father?”
“We have close to 150 families,” replied Fr. Francis. And he started to feel a
bit of relief. But his problem was still right there in the front of his thoughts.
Mr. Pierson smiled. “I believe our congregation will continue to grow. I’ve
heard for years that Catholics come through Chillicothe, looking for a place to
settle, and decide to stay here because of our thriving parish. They are happy to
be in a place with a daily mass, Fr. Francis. They feel secure with the fact that we
have three Franciscan priests here. Religious instruction is available for their
children. They enjoy being part of our parish.”
“Yes,” said Fr. Frances. “The Lord is at work here in Chillicothe.”
“Father,” interrupted Mr. Pierson, “We do have a problem here at the
church.”
Fr. Frances looked up from his breakfast and spoke, “What? Do you think
there is a problem?”
“Fr. Francis, it should be obvious. We all know that even though you have
two masses each Sunday, there aren’t enough seats. Families rush to arrive early,
so they don’t have to stand. Father, the church is too small. It is too crowded. We
have all been talking about it. We think you need to consider enlarging the
church.”
“You are right, Mr. Pierson. I agree. Can you answer a question for me? If
you were going to build a new church here in Chillicothe, just where would you
put it?”
“That’s an easy question, Father. I would build a new church toward the
north end of town. All the new businesses are going that direction. I’ve noticed
that most of the new houses are going up on the north side. The walk to St.
Columban is too far for many. And the train noise is disrupting, with the church
being next to the railroad tracks. Father, are you thinking about building a new
church?”
“Yes,” said Fr. Francis emphatically. “Yes, I believe I am. Definitely.” And for
the first time that day, he felt sure of his plan and said a silent prayer of
thanksgiving.
When Mr. Pierson left the restaurant, Fr. Francis walked north. He felt a
little warmer as he looked about him and thought about building lots. He walked
back and forth from street to street, searching for the right location. Then he
remembered that the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet were teaching a school
for young ladies at the Academy of St. Joseph in the northeast part of Chillicothe
Directly across the street from the Sisters’ property was an entire square block
sitting empty. He soon reached the place and stood on the corner studying the
land. Streets were laid out on all four sides. How promising this looked as a
church site. A strong feeling came to Fr. Francis. “This is the place,” he whispered
to himself, “It’s up to you, Francis. Act wisely.”
With that thought in mind, Fr. Frances walked back to the town square. He
needed to speak to someone about the property at 9th and Trenton Streets. He
thought of Adam Saale, one of the very first parishioners of St. Columban parish.
Adam and his brother Michael had a cobbler’s shop nearby, and Fr. Francis
directed his feet to the south side of the square.
When he entered Saale’s shop, he noticed three more of his parishioners
inside, speaking with Adam. They all turned and greeted him cheerfully. The
brothers John, Emil, and Henry Gier were discussing new work boots with Adam
and Michael. Fr. Francis made a quick decision to consult them all.
“Gentlemen, may I have a word with you?” Fr. Francis asked the men. “I
have a problem and I need some advice.”
“Of course, Father. Let’s step into the back room,” agreed Adam Saale.
“Michael, will you watch the front?”
Fr. Francis, Adam, and the Gier brothers stepped into the back room of the
shop. Fr. Francis began to speak. “I am wondering who owns the land across the
street east of the Sisters’ Academy. I have a problem I am trying to solve and that
property might be the answer. I know it is near your property, John. Do any of you
know who owns it?”
“What is your problem, Father? Have you finally noticed that we need a
bigger church?” inquired John Gier with a happy laugh.
Fr. Francis was surprised, but the lump in his throat eased a little. He
stammered, “How did you know? And yes, I am considering whether we should
build a larger church and where we should put it. I have only spoken with one
other person about this. But that block on Trenton Street looks promising.
Question is, who owns it?”
Emil Gier joined in with the answer. “Father, that land is owned by S. Fisher
Johnson and his wife Sarah. And it happens to be for sale.”
Adam Saale interrupted. “Fr. Francis, several men of the parish have been
discussing the need to build a new church and we have already begun
contributing to a building fund. You need to go speak to Fisher Johnson. I believe
he will be fair with the price. And the location couldn’t be better. What do you
say, Henry? Can you take Fr. Francis to see the Johnsons right now?”
Henry Gier and Fr. Francis went out the door and started walking down
Jackson Street. Emil, John, and Adam joined Michael Saale, Adam’s brother, in the
front room of the cobbler shop.
“Well, gentlemen,” Adam announced, “it didn’t take Fr. Francis long to
figure out what this parish needs. It is time to get to work. Building a church will
take much cooperation from all of us and every family in the parish. We will need
to share in the expense and the work. We will all have to give of our time, our
talents, and our money for the common good of the parish. This will be a big
project. What do you say?”
“Praise be to God!” shouted John Gier.
And the others answered with “Amen!”
That night Fr. Francis told the other Franciscans of his plan to build a new
church and showed them the preliminary bill of sale from Fisher Johnson. He had
bought the entire city block for $550, subject to the approval of the Diocese of St.
Joseph. Father Bonaventure and Fr. Theodore sat with him discussing ideas and
praying together for the success of the project. Fr. Bonaventure encouraged
Father Francis to present his plan to the people at Christmas masses as a
Christmas gift.
The next day was Christmas Eve. At midnight mass and tomorrow at the
Christmas morning mass, Fr. Francis would announce the plan. Of course, he
would need to secure permission from the Most Reverend John J. Hogan, Bishop
of St. Joseph, before the work could begin. The Bishop had a special place in his
heart for St. Columban parish. He would surely understand the needs here in
Chillicothe and agree to the plan. Fr. Francis hoped his parish members would be
in favor. He had already started to think about how this would be financed and
who would help them build the church. The day of fasting passed quickly with
much thought, discussion, and prayer until it was time for mass.
The little white frame church shimmered in the candlelight at midnight
mass. Once again, the members of the church were elbow to elbow, filling all the
pews and standing in the aisles. Babies slept in parents’ arms as Fr. Francis rose
for the benediction. Then he stepped forward, even closer to the people to make
his announcement.
He looked out at the congregation with a smile on his face and carefully told
them about the divine guidance that led him to solve his problem. “We are going
to build a beautiful church together, right here in Chillicothe, a church to last for
generations, a church for your great-great-grandchildren to call their own. They
will one day in the future offer prayers of thanksgiving that all of us in 1878 were
so far-sighted. They will thank God for leading us to this decision. Generations to
follow us will recognize the sacrifices we made and how we worked together to
accomplish the building of a fine church to stand the test of time. Children many
years from now will be baptized in our church, make their first communions here,
and be married before the altar of St. Columban Church. They will remember all
of us who left them such a fine church. Our plan is just the beginning.”
And the people sitting in the original St. Columban Church, the little white
frame church founded by Bishop Hogan, had done something unheard of in
church. They had broken into applause.
A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda O’Halloran, copyright 2016 by St. Columban Church, Chillicothe, MO
Chapter 2
Bishop John J. Hogan
Early in January 1879 The Most Reverend John J. Hogan sat at his desk in
the Cathedral of St. Joseph. Before him lay a stack of unopened mail. The one
letter he had just read was clenched tightly in his hand as the Bishop stared into
space, thinking and praying. He had been expecting this exact request. He knew
when he offered the Franciscan Fathers the responsibility to pastor Chillicothe
and its missions that they would be thorough and realistic about the needs there.
The letter came from The Reverend Francis Moenning in Chillicothe.
Bishop Hogan began praying about the matter at hand. He knew what he had to
do. But first he allowed his mind to drift back in time.
John Joseph Hogan had come to the Theological Seminary in St. Louis in
1847 as an 18-year-old from County Limerick, Ireland, who heard God’s calling.
After five years, he was ordained a priest. After a time, he asked Most Rev. Peter
R. Kenrick, Archbishop of St. Louis, for permission go on a fact-finding mission in
North Missouri. Fr. Hogan had felt a call to examine the needs for establishing the
Catholic Church in the far corner of Missouri. Many new settlers were arriving as
the hardy American pioneers had continued the westward search for land. In June
1857, with the blessing of the Archbishop, Fr. Hogan resigned from his position at
St. Michael’s and began his travels.
Riding the railroad west to its ending point in Warrenton, Fr. Hogan found
crews hard at work extending the line further into Missouri. He convinced the
railroad contractor to loan him an old work horse, and he headed toward Macon
County. The ride was long and gave Fr. Hogan much time for thought. He realized
that building the railroad across the state would mean change. He knew this
thirty-county area of 16,000 square miles had not one Catholic Church and not
one priest. As people began settling here, the need for the Church would soon be
great.
6
Fr. Hogan’s first act as a missionary was to make peace between two
groups of men, working in the middle of nowhere, building the new Hannibal to
St. Joseph railroad tracks. Both crews had 100 men and were camped on opposite
sides of the Muscle Fork of the Chariton River. With their wives and children, they
lived in crude conditions in tents, shanties, and wagons. They worked hard with
few physical comforts. Although most of the workers were Catholic, they were
surprised to see a priest in their midst. Father Hogan could see tempers boiling
and realized there were problems. After a talk with the contractors and crew
bosses, he suggested a plan to resolve the problems and stem the arguments.
When he left a few days later, his influence had helped the two groups make
peace.
Fr. Hogan continued in the direction of Linneus, fording streams and rivers,
crossing prairie land, and following little trails through woods on the tired old
horse. He rode on across Linn County where he saw few people and only a few
cabins. Part-way across Livingston County, he found lodging at the hotel in Utica,
Missouri. Since the day he left the railroad camp, he had discovered no Catholics
along the trail.
Next day Fr. Hogan left the old horse to rest, hired a fresh horse, and rode
west once more to see what neighboring Caldwell County was like. When he
came to a small settlement, he stopped to talk to some folks. There he again
found crews laying tracks for the Hannibal-St. Joseph railroad.
“One day soon,” Fr. Hogan thought to himself, “these tracks will be
connected all the way across Missouri. People will be settling in these hills and
prairies, and a good many of them will be Catholic. I must convince the Bishop of
the need for churches and priests out here in the wilderness.”
He rode into an area of tents, a few frame buildings, and other signs of a
town. “What is this little settlement called?” asked Fr. Hogan to some men loafing
outside the one tiny store. One replied, “Garryowen,” just as the second man
said, “The new name is Breckenridge. We thought that would be a better name
for a growing railroad town.”
7
“Stranger, can we help you?” asked the first man. “Are you lost?”
Fr. Hogan was telling the men that he was looking around the countryside
with an idea to settle around here, when a young woman carrying a baby and
holding a boy by the hand came out of the little store. She glanced at him as she
started down the path. She stopped and looked again. Her eyes opened wide with
astonishment as she saw his collar and she smiled shyly.
“Father, are you a priest?” she asked respectfully. “A Catholic priest? Praise
be to God! My prayers are answered.”
Fr. Hogan was happy to find a Catholic family. He stayed in Breckenridge for
a few days and baptized the two children. He said mass for the mother and a few
others from the railroad shanties where the workers lived. Then he rode back to
Utica to switch horses before resuming his journey on the old work horse he had
borrowed.
From Utica, Fr. Hogan rode southeast to Blue Mound, through Compton’s
Ferry, and on to Brunswick, a trip of 55 miles. There he boarded a steamboat with
the borrowed horse and went down the Missouri River to Boonville. The boat was
loaded with hemp, tobacco, flour, pork, cattle, mules, horses, and slaves, all
products of the North Missouri farms. Stops at Arrowrock, Glasgow, and New
Franklin came before the boat docked at Boonville.
Fr. Hogan, sitting at his desk in the Cathedral, remembered more about his
first trip through the Mission in Missouri. At that time there had been few people
and even fewer Catholics in the North Missouri area he had ridden across. But he
had seen the tracks being laid and predicted that the railroads would soon move
plenty of people and goods into the area. There would certainly be a great need
for priests to serve the people.
On the steamboat taking him back toward St. Louis in that time before the
Civil War, Fr. Hogan had been deeply moved by the cruel treatment of slaves on
board. He shuddered as he thought how those slaves had been jerked from the
arms of their families to be sold down river. He had read The Missouri
Compromise of 1820, allowing Missouri to enter the Union as a slave state only
8
because Maine had come in as a free state at the same time. On that steamboat
in 1858 he had hoped and prayed that the slavery issue could be solved without
bloodshed. He considered how the influence of the Church could reach the
people and once again determined there was a great need for priests in the
northwest part of Missouri.
When he departed the steamboat at Boonville, Fr. Hogan was happy to be
in a nice-sized town. He was looking forward to sleeping in a clean bed and eating
hot food. He was happy that he would once again be able to say mass in a church.
But God had other plans.
Almost before he had stepped off the boat, Fr. Hogan was told of a riot
between railroad men in nearby Otterville. Because he had previous experience
dealing with worker unrest on the Chariton River, he left his horse at the livery
stable and rented a buggy with a fresh horse before driving to Otterville. The
protests and complaints of the workers were quickly ended when the priest
interceded, and he returned shortly to Boonville. Fr. Hogan was building a good
reputation as a missionary successful in working with people.
Making his way to Saints Peter and Paul Catholic Church, Fr. Hogan eagerly
anticipated saying mass inside an actual church building with vestments and a
chalice at the holy altar. But the pastor, the Rev. Father Hilner, was inexplicably
absent, and he had taken the only vestments and chalice with him.
After two days of once again saying mass in spirit only, Fr. Hogan and his
horse headed downriver on another boat bound for St. Louis. He passed Jefferson
City and Herman. At Warrenton, he returned the old horse to his benefactor and
boarded a train to return to the city. After his weeks in the wilderness, the
number of people on the streets amazed him. The train passed several churches
near each other. Fr. Hogan thought of how different St. Louis was from the
unsettled north part of Missouri.
Immediately, Fr. Hogan went to meet with the Archbishop.
“Good afternoon, Fr. Hogan,” Archbishop Kenrick greeted him. “I trust you
had a successful trip?”
9
“Your Excellency, I have a request and a plan. Please will you give me time
to explain to you?”
And with the Archbishop’s nod and smile, Fr. Hogan asked for permission to
go out on a mission for the Church and in the name of Jesus begin the founding of
a line of parishes that might one day stretch from St. Louis to Omaha.
He spoke quietly to the Archbishop. “The countryside I have just travelled
through is totally lacking in spiritual help for the inhabitants of North Missouri. I
saw not one church, not one! And of course, we know there are no priests
available for the people. I witnessed first-hand three large railroad construction
projects laying tracks all the way across the state. The land in North Missouri is
rich, Archbishop Kenrick. Settlers will soon be flooding in on the railroads and
buying up the land. Other people will come to provide needed services. Many will
be immigrants, German and Irish, deeply faithful. All these people will need
priests and churches. With your permission and blessing, I propose to go out as a
missionary in Missouri, and with God’s help, I will start something there that will
grow. I want to do God’s work where I can make a difference.”
Archbishop Kenrick made no move for a moment. Fr. Hogan knew he was
pondering this request. Then the Archbishop looked up and smiled.“Since you are
willing, Fr. Hogan, you may do exactly what you have proposed, in God’s name.”
Then the Archbishop turned to a shelf and picked up a box which he
handed to Fr. Hogan. The box contained a travelling kit with light weight
vestments, a portable chalice, and an altar stone. Fr. Hogan murmured his thanks,
then knelt to receive the Archbishop’s blessing. Archbishop Kenrich had wisely
understood what the outcome of this meeting with Fr. John Hogan would involve
before it even happened.
During the days of preparation for the journey and task ahead of him,
Father Hogan felt apprehensive from time to time. Worrying that he might fail at
the mission, he knew he needed Divine assistance, and conducted a personal
retreat in readiness. He prayed and entrusted his mission and himself to Mary,
the Mother of God. At that point he felt ready to begin.
10
It was not accidental that Father John J. Hogan had departed from St. Louis
on September 8, 1857, the feast day of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary. Fr. Hogan
traveled first by train to Jefferson City, then by river boat, and last by stage to a
small village in Linn county. Center Point was a logical central location, envisioned
to eventually become large as the Hannibal-St. Joseph Railroad passed through
the town.
After some weeks there, Fr. Hogan realized the place would not work for
his residence. He lived in a shed and said mass for a small number of railroad
workers and just a few settlers who had dared to live in the surrounding woods.
Nothing went well during his time there. Compelled to move on, he borrowed
another horse from a different railroad contractor.
The contractor, Mr. Patrick Tooey, told Fr. Hogan this horse was aptly
named by its last owner. “I know your name is John, Father. Your patron saint is
likely St. John the Baptist. Funny thing, but this horse is called John the Baptist.”
As young Father Hogan had ridden off on his mission to search for another
place to make his base, he had felt brave once again. He had prayed that St. John,
who himself had travelled through the wilderness, would be an inspiration and a
comfort. Fr. Hogan again had prayed to find a place where he could do some
good and he had remembered this mission was entrusted to Mary.
That long day’s journey had ended at a place of a thousand residents called
Chillicothe. He thought to himself, “Such a delightful little town, charmingly
situated in an open prairie surrounded by woods.” Little had he known back then
how important that little town was to become to him and many people.
His reminiscing of the beginning over, Bishop Hogan smiled, remembering
founding his first parish there in Chillicothe and building the little, white frame St.
Columban Church for those first fifty families in 1860 while still traveling around
the entire area of northwest Missouri. He went on, recalling the facts and his own
reactions when in 1865, a Livingston County Grand Jury had indicted him for
preaching without taking the Missouri Loyalty Test Oath. Deputy Sheriff Drury, a
member of Fr. Hogan’s own church, had been forced to arrest him. For the walk
11
downtown to the courthouse to sign papers which bonded him out, Fr. Hogan had
donned full canonicals of Soutane, surplice, stole, and birette, and had carried a
large crucifix in one hand and a large Folio Bible in the other. During the next two
years another Missouri priest was tried, convicted, and appealed his case all the
way to the United States Supreme Court. When he was found not guilty in 1867,
all charges were dropped against Fr. Hogan as well.
Then he relived the disbelief he had felt when in 1868 he had received the
Papal document appointing him as Bishop of the newly formed diocese for
Northern Missouri. He had refused at first. How could he leave his Mission in
Missouri? He thought of the people of the parish he had founded at Chillicothe
and the good people all over North Missouri where eventually churches had been
built at several locations. With time, he had come to realize that he had been
subject to Divine intervention. He would not be leaving them at all if he became
their Bishop. He had agreed to let God’s Will be done and had been consecrated
as Bishop of the new see of St. Joseph on the Feast of the Holy Name of Mary,
September 13, 1868.
Bishop John Hogan, looked down again at the letter in his hand. It was a
request that seemed logical and necessary. He sighed and said aloud, “Chillicothe.
Yes, I thought I would hear from Fr. Francis once he had a chance to get adjusted
to Chillicothe.”
He reread the handwritten letter just received:
December 30, 1878
Your Excellency,
This is a formal request for your permission to allow St. Columban Parish, Chillicothe,
Missouri, to build a new and larger church to replace our current building.
As you know the current building was meant for a congregation of 50 families. Our current roll
includes more than 150 families and our little church will not accommodate the number attending
our two Sunday masses. The church has served us well for twenty years, but we have outgrown the
St. Columban Church that you began building in 1859.
The location of our current church is no longer convenient for the people, considering the direction
the city has been expanding these past few years. A new property has been located for $550 in the
northeast part of town, a complete city block, directly across the street east of the Sisters of St.
12
Joseph of Carondelet’s Academy of St. Joseph. I have spoken for this land with the
understanding that you must first approve it. I believe you will remember the location.
The St. Louis Province of the Sacred Heart, Order of Friars Minor, has an architect I
recommend to design our church. His name is Brother Adrian Wewer. He has completed several
churches including St. Mary’s Church and the Franciscan Friary at Wien, Missouri, and St.
Francis Borgia Church at Washington, Missouri, and several other buildings in the Neo-Gothic
style. With your permission, I will contact him to begin the preliminaries.
Our parish families are eager to begin. In fact, unknown to me some of them had already begun
a building fund before I arrived in October. Our members have promised to give money and labor
to this project, according to their own abilities and talents.
We will await your response. Please consider our request and offer any suggestions, ideas, or
requirements. I will be willing to discuss the financial aspects with you and would welcome you to
visit the intended property. Your wisdom and experience in these matters is appreciated.
Yours respectfully in Christ,
Fr. Francis Moenning, O.F.M.
Bishop Hogan sat there remembering his own arrival in Chillicothe. He had
soon learned there was one Catholic lady in town and he had promptly presented
himself to his new congregation, Mrs. Eliza Bell, a congregation of one. Wife of a
prominent attorney and mother to several young children, Mrs. Bell had asked
him to celebrate mass at her house and invited her friend, Mrs. Catherine G.
Tanner, to be present.
Soon Mrs. Bell and her husband confided to Fr. Hogan that they were about
to lose their home because they could not make the mortgage payment.
Economic times were not good in the 1850s and Mr. Bell’s income had dropped.
Fr. Hogan reached into his pockets and shared his last $200 to cover the
mortgage. In return, the Bells had provided him with a room for his residence and
had made a chapel for him in their home. Eventually all the children and Mr. Bell
became Catholic. The Adam Saale and Michael Saale families joined within weeks,
followed by a handful of others, and his first parish was founded.
Bishop Hogan smiled. There were so many similar stories from his life as a
missionary. So many good people. So many needy people. So many eager for the
Church to make a place in their towns. Some day he would write a book about the
13
Mission in Missouri that he had undertaken with the protection of Mary, the
Mother of God.
But now he must reply to Fr. Francis and the deserving people at St.
Columban Church. Chillicothe had long been a place dear to his heart. He had
known what was needed there even before he had received the letter. He took
his pen to paper and proceeded to write a positive response. The Diocese was too
poor to help much financially, but he would encourage the Chillicothe parish to
build a strong and beautiful church for the glory of God. He hoped that the church
would last for a hundred years. All his years of riding the circuit to say mass and
do God’s work in the surrounding settlements had been worthwhile. The
congregation had tripled in size in 20 years, from 50 families to 150 families. He
prayed that St. Columban Parish in Chillicothe would continue to grow and triple
in size again with God’s help. He prayed that the people of the parish would work
together and unselfishly share their means, talents, and abilities.
“Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ!” said Bishop John J. Hogan, as he signed his
name to the letter of permission to build St. Columban Church. “Thanks be to
God!”
When Fr. Hogan began his mission in Missouri, he had placed his mission
and himself under the patronage of Mary the Mother of God for protection and
blessings. As he looked back, he realized how hopeful yet inexperienced he had
been then with such high hopes, but his confidence in the intercession of Mary
and his devotion to St. Joseph had seen him through the trials and tribulations.
His years in the mission had been blessed. Although now his duty was at the
cathedral in St. Joseph, as Bishop he could take part in building another church in
Chillicothe, a church that would be a direct result of his years spent on the
mission in Missouri. He felt that his time doing God’s work had made a difference.
His prayers had been answered.
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A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda O’Halloran, January 2017
Chapter 3
Brother Adrian
Franciscan Brother Adrian Wewer would soon arrive in Chillicothe,
Missouri, to design and build a new church for St. Columban Parish. He had gladly
answered the summons from Fr. Francis Moenning, packed his tools and
equipment, and boarded the train now rolling across the countryside. The two
Franciscans had worked together a few years before at Wien, Mo.
Br. Adrian had been born Antonius Wewer on April 14, 1836, in
Harsewinkle, Westphalia, a part of Germany. As a teenager, he trained as a
carpenter so that he might have a trade with which to earn a living. None of his
family had expected much out of him, but God had looked down on Antonius with
big plans.
At the age of 22, Antonius accepted his calling from God. In 1858 he
petitioned and was admitted to the novitiate of the Friars Minor, a Franciscan
order of the Province of the Holy Cross in Saxony. There in Warendorf, Germany,
he became Brother Adrian.
Brother Adrian and four other friars left Germany in October 1862, just
ahead of the 100 German Franciscans exiled by Otto von Bismarck. Br. Adrian’s
traveling group arrived in the United States in November 1862, and went first to
Teutopolis, Illinois. Brother Adrian set to work. He designed and built his first
church in Trowbridge, Illinois, and began designing altars and church furniture for
St. Francis Church in Quincy.
By 1864, Br. Adrian had been assigned to the Franciscan Province of the
Sacred Heart in St. Louis. For the next four years, he designed and supervised
construction of St. Anthony of Padua Church in south St. Louis. His vision and hard
work earned him the title of Provincial Architect. St. Anthony’s remained his
official residence.
Brother Adrian was partial to the Neo-Gothic style of church design. This
style used height and light to bring people a feeling of closeness toward God. The
pointed arches and high vaulted ceilings led all eyes toward heaven and seemed
to have a distinctly German flair. Neo-Gothic construction allowed large openings
that could be filled with stained glass windows which added more beauty and
color to the buildings.
During his early years in the United States, Br. Adrian was limited to
building churches near waterways that offered him the chance to travel by river
boat. As railroad routes across the country increased and he could travel by train,
Br. Adrian found himself designing churches at far greater distances. In 1869 he
began the church of St. Anthony of Quincy, Illinois. It was consecrated the
following year.
Although Br. Adrian preferred to design larger churches, not every location
had the money required for large projects. Consequently, he soon learned to
tailor church plans to the finances of the individual parishes. He found ways to
trim costs, often by decreasing the size of the buildings. The one thing he found
non-negotiable and always insisted upon for each church was a steepled tower
with a cross mounted on top, to him a symbol of the spirit of the parish. He was
becoming experienced in working with all sorts of people and their wants and
needs, no matter where he traveled.
During the year 1877, when Fr. Francis Moenning was in charge of St.
Mary’s parish at Wien, Missouri, Bro. Adrian was selected to design and build a
church and monastery there. Much of the work was, by financial necessity, done
by the parishioners. Even their pastor, Fr. Francis, was part of the construction
crew. Brother Adrian learned just how to deal with these workers to keep them
interested in continuing to work diligently and to make them feel vested in the
outcome of the church that was to be theirs. He had a talent for working with the
ordinary carpenters and the volunteer parishioners in such a way that their work
nearly matched that of skilled craftsmen.
Now Brother Adrian was on a trip to another Missouri town. He sat in the
comfortable railway coach and listened to the rumble of the wheels on the track.
He could hear the train whistle as it crossed the few intersections where roads or
trails ran across the tracks. The engine emitted steam with an audible noise and
smoke drifted past the window of the train cars as he gazed out at the North
Missouri countryside.
This new assignment was to design a church for the congregation now
pastored by Fr. Francis Moenning, with whom Br. Adrian had built the church at
Wien. He recognized how dedicated Fr. Francis was to his Order and to the people
of his parish and their needs. Now Fr. Francis had sent for him to repeat the
designing and building of a new church.
Br. Adrian had been told that Chillicothe, with a population of nearly 4000,
was a much bigger town than Wien. He had never been there, but Fr. Francis’
letter explained that it was a trade center, drawing buyers from all directions and
as far away as the Iowa border to the north. Many new streets were being laid
out to provide building lots for family homes. There had been a real building
boom. Schools had been established. All sorts of retail shops and other businesses
served the residents of the town.
As the train rumbled on, Br. Adrian tried to imagine what the town looked
like. He had been told there was a fairly new brick city hall. He knew there were
quite a few dry goods and clothing stores. Almost a dozen groceries, several drug
stores, furniture stores, hardware, jewelry and other various stores provided for
the citizens. In addition, there were three print shops, two banks, three hotels,
and three restaurants. In Br. Adrian’s mind he saw a bustling, thriving town. And
knew he must build a grand church worthy of such a place.
The train stopped with a screech of the brakes and a cloud of steam. Br.
Adrian stood up to gather his belongings before stepping off the train onto a busy
platform. Looking around, he saw quite a few others leaving the train at this stop
and a bustling number of people moving baggage or sitting in buggies and
wagons, waiting for the departing passengers. He glanced up the broad street
lined with big houses and wondered where the site for the church was.
A familiar voice called out in German, “Brother Adrian, here I am.” Fr.
Francis walked across the platform. A second man was climbing up the steps from
the hitching rail where a buggy and horse were waiting.
“Good afternoon, Br. Adrian,” called Fr. Francis. “We are so glad to have
you arrive in Chillicothe. Are you ready to begin building our new church?”
Br. Adrian smiled at the eagerness of the priest. “Of course,” he replied.
“How good it will be to work with you once again, Fr. Francis.”
“Br. Adrian, may I introduce you to Mr. Adam Saale? Mr. Saale, may I
present Brother Adrian Wewer, our Franciscan Provincial Architect, ready to take
on the building of our new church. Br. Adrian, Mr. Saale is here to assist you with
your luggage and to take you to the building site. Feel free to ask him for what
you need. Since he is on the church building committee, I trust he can answer
your questions. Mr. Saale will take you to the house where we Franciscans are
staying, near the building site. Now I must go back to the church.” Fr. Francis
spoke fast, took a deep breath, then quickly strode away, headed across the
tracks to the small white frame building, the current site of St. Columban Church.
With his gear stowed in the back of Mr. Saale’s buggy, Br. Adrian climbed in
and the horse began to trot. The two men reverted to speaking in their native
German.
“We’ll drive up our main street first so you can see the town. We find it is a
very fine place to live. My family has been here for 20 years. I have a cobbler
business with my brothers Michael and Bernard. My wife Johanna and I have
found Chillicothe to be a wonderful place to raise a family.”
When Brother Adrian asked Mr. Saale what he thought the parish needed
in the way of a church, Adam immediately answered, “We need more space. Our
congregation continues to grow and even with two masses on Sunday, we cannot
fit everyone into the present building. We need a roomy church building. And we
want to make it a pleasing place of worship. Not just a suitable building, but a
real, holy church.”
“I do have some plans in mind for your new church,” shared Br. Adrian. “I
have built several churches in the past few years. How do you feel about the
Gothic style? There are some wonderful churches in Germany with that style.”
And the men talked on about German churches in their homeland.
The buggy passed every kind of service or retail business a person could
want in a town. It passed homes large and small. The sidewalks were full of
people heading out for business, shopping, or social events. Quite a few farm
wagons pulled by teams were tied up to hitching posts near businesses.
Mr. Saale continued driving and pointed out the Academy of St. Joseph, run
by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet.
“This is a young ladies’ school,” offered Mr. Saale. “We hope sometime
soon to have a school for boys, also.”
On a corner nearby was a building that Mr. Saale pointed out as an altar
works and church furniture factory owned by a talented German family named
Gier. Across the street sat a large open field with streets laid out on each side.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Saale proudly. “Here we will build our church. We
want a fine strong church building that will last for generations, a church that will
accommodate a large and growing parish. We hope to have a beautiful church
that will honor the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We need a roomy church
from which we can serve God. We have been assured by Fr. Francis that you are
the man who can make this happen. Let’s get started.”
Br. Adrian climbed down from the buggy and began purposefully striding
around the property. He looked left and right. He checked the neighborhood. He
noticed the fine flat property with plenty of space. The lot was large enough for a
good-sized church, perhaps with its own monastery such as he had built at Wien.
He would need to ask how many priests and other religious associates would live
here. There would be ample space for all this and more on the large piece of
land. Tomorrow he would take measurements of the property.
Brother Adrian preferred building large churches, designed for
magnificence. He had felt the satisfaction of knowing his work was an honor to
the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and drew people closer to Heaven. He thought
also of a church yard and garden. Knowing these priests were circuit riders, he
wondered if there would be need of a stable for horses. This was a suitable and
perfect place to put a church.
“Yes, Mr. Saale,” agreed Br. Adrian with a broad smile on his face. “Let’s
get started!”
A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda O’Halloran, January 2017
Chapter 4
The Building Committee
Adam Saale took Br. Adrian to the place he would be staying, just north of
the site of the future church lot. Mr. and Mrs. James Reed owned a double house
on Trenton Street. Half the house was the Reed residence and the other half had
been converted into a monastery for the three priests and three brothers who not
only served St. Columban Parish, but also rode horseback around the circuit,
saying mass for other Catholics in North Missouri on a monthly schedule.The
residence was small and inconvenient, but the Franciscans graciously accepted Br.
Adrian into their midst.
Although the place was crowded, Brother Adrian discovered a small table
to use as his drafting board and moved it near a window for light. He unpacked
his architectural tools and paper. Here he would draw the plans already lining up
in his head.
When dinner time came, the Franciscans’ talk centered on a discussion
about the church plans. Fr. Francis told Br. Adrian that he had begun to form a
building committee of men from the parish.
Br. Adrian looked up from his plate. “Are there good carpenters here who
can read my blueprints? The cost of labor is expensive.”
“I believe we have some carpenters in our parish. The committee will be
making recommendations and we will speak with other parishioners soon,”
replied Fr. Francis.
Br. Adrian knew that hiring professional builders and carpenters would
double the cost of the building project. He began to wonder if this congregation
would have the necessary funds to build the church he was planning.
Fr. Francis was eager to get the project started. He was eager to share the
plan with the parish members. He needed to resolve his financial concerns and
learn how much money might be donated by the church members. He really
needed to know the bottom line on how much money would need to be raised to
build a suitable church. The building committee would have to address all this and
come up with some plans. He wanted to get this new building started and finished
as soon as possible. Would there be ample funds?
Carefully Fr. Francis raised his subject. “Br. Adrian, how soon do you think
you will have plans to show us? And how soon will you have cost projections? We
will need to determine our funding. When do you think we can unveil the plans to
the members of the parish? I don’t want to hurry you, but it is imperative that we
get this all finalized as soon as possible.”
Br. Adrian knew the feelings the priest, the building committee, and the
others were having. He had worked in this situation before. He knew he needed
to give them something to work with very soon. “I can have preliminary plans
ready by the end of next week. This project also depends on how much money I
have to work with.”
“You start to work, Br. Adrian, and we will get started on assessing our
finances more definitely,” promised Fr. Francis. “Then we will call a meeting of
the parish and go from there. This is going to take a lot of prayerful consideration
and cooperation from everyone involved.”
At the customary time the priests and Franciscan brothers entered their
tiny chapel to say the evening rosary and prayers. Each one of them prayed for
Divine guidance in the building of the church.
Two days later, Fr. Francis called together the men he had determined
might work well on his building committee. They clustered on the front pews of
the small white church. Fr. Francis hoped to make various special interests in the
church all feel that they were represented on the committee. He had carefully
selected a blend of Irish and German members, farmers and city men, old and
young. He had mixed those in good financial circumstances with some who
struggled to make ends meet. He had included members with a knowledge of
building construction and materials.
Joseph Pierson, who had been the first to bring up the subject of the need
for a new church, was at the top of the list of members for the building
committee. Mr. Pierson owned much land in the county and had recently stepped
down from the management of his brewery east of town, leaving his son Frank in
charge of daily operations. As a successful businessman, Mr. Pierson would have
plenty of ideas about how to finance this building project. He had always been
willing to contribute to any local project that would make Chillicothe a better
place. He was well-known as a generous employer and a good neighbor with a big
heart. Fr. Francis knew that many people of the church respected Mr. Pierson’s
opinion and Mr. Pierson was always in favor of progress. For those reasons, Fr.
Francis had asked Joseph Pierson to be the chairman of the building committee
and to help persuade the congregation of the need for this larger church.
The second person that Fr. Francis determined would be an asset to the
building committee was Adam Saale. An immigrant from Alsace-Lorraine, Adam
Saale had been one of the first members of the congregation after he arrived in
Chillicothe on the heels of Fr. Hogan in 1857. He and his brothers had opened a
cobbler shop on the south side of the square. Adam and wife Johanna were
newlyweds when they came here from St. Louis and their first child, Louis, born in
1858, had the sad distinction of being the first Catholic to be born, baptized, and
buried from the St. Columban parish when he died in 1859. The people of the
parish had helped the young family through the terrible ordeal and in repayment,
both Saales had been tireless workers for the church. The family’s devotion to the
Catholic Church and the Holy Trinity was obvious in all that they did.
The committee to plan the building of the new church also included Flavian
Bonderer, Michael Conway, Edward Dorney, Michael Donoho, and several other
active members of the parish. They met to discuss needs and finances before
Brother Adrian presented his plans to the entire congregation.
Mr. Pierson called the meeting to order and requested that Fr. Francis start
the meeting with a prayer for the success of the project. After the prayer, Joseph
Pierson made some introductory remarks. “Gentlemen, we need to do some
serious planning on how to pay for this church. No one so far has argued with the
need for a larger church. The complaints will probably arise when the total cost is
revealed to the congregation. We need to have a plan in place to raise this
money.”
“Don’t forget our building fund,” added Adam Saale. Several of us have
been quietly depositing donations in a bank account for several years, with the
intent to put the money toward building a church. We have nearly $1000 dollars
collected. That should be a good start.”
Michael Conway disagreed. “Are we planning a frame church or are we
going to do this right and build with brick? I know for a fact that a brick church of
the size we need will cost over seven times that amount.” Michael Conway was an
experienced stone mason and brick layer. The members of the committee took
heed when he spoke.
Mr. Pierson called for ideas for raising funds. Those assembled shared what
they had on their minds. Several mentioned how popular carnivals and picnics
were for raising money. They thought the whole town would come out to enjoy
the entertainment and spend money on food, games, and booths that sold
various things. Another person mentioned having soup suppers or fried fish
dinners open to the public. Perhaps the ladies of the parish could have a bazaar
and sell handwork and baked goods.
“Those are all fine ideas and have been used many times by parishes in
need of funds,” added Fr. Francis, “but I question whether all of them together
will bring in the amount of money we will need for this building project.”
“Just how much money do we need?” Edward Dorney asked. “Michael
Conway here is the only one who has even guessed. What did you say, Michael?
Seven thousand dollars? That seems like a huge amount to me. I’m a farmer. I
don’t have a chance to see much ready cash. I’m sure there are many like me in
our parish. I will give as much as I can, but my donation cannot be large.”
“Shouldn’t we have every family give us a pledge so we have some idea
how much we have to work with when we find out what Brother Adrian’s plan
will cost to build?” questioned Michael Donoho. Like Mr. Dorney, Michael was a
farmer. He lived with his wife Ellen and two small children on a farm northwest of
town. He had a practical way of thinking.
At that point, Mr. Pierson spoke again. “We have mentioned some good
ideas here today. These suggestions should give us a starting point. Why don’t we
all go home and do some thinking on this. Let’s also do some praying. Let’s wait to
do more until after we have met with Br. Adrian and heard his estimates. Is
everyone in agreement?”
As the men nodded yes, Mr. Pierson asked another question. “Fr. Francis,
do you have any idea when the plans will be ready to be presented to the
congregation?”
“Br. Adrian told me he might be ready as early as the end of this week,”
answered Fr. Francis. “Let’s give him an additional week, just to be safe. We don’t
want to rush him. He is designing us a church to last for generations. We can wait
another week.”
Fr. Francis paused a moment, thinking. “I believe on Sunday I will announce
that the following Sunday we will have a meeting after both masses to show the
plans and answer any questions the congregation may have concerning this
project,” said Fr. Francis. “You know we will need to have two meetings, because
the entire congregation cannot assemble in the church at once. Won’t it be nice
when we have a church large enough for all the members of our parish to meet
together?” With a sigh, he paused again.
“Even though we don’t know the total cost of this new church, the subject
needs to be raised. I also will ask that each family be considering how much
money they can offer for the building of the church. We are all going to have to
work together to help raise the money.”
“Money!” said Flavian Bonderer, the only member of the committee who
had not yet spoken. “Seems to me that not many people around here have much
money available. It also seems to me that most people in our parish realize the
need for a larger church and want to help. Why don’t we ask God to help us figure
this out?”
“This calls for another prayer, Father,” requested Mr. Pierson.
“Let us pray, “ said Fr. Francis, making the sign of the cross.
God, for your ever-lasting love and mercy, we thank you.
For planting in us the idea that it was time to build a new church, we thank you.
Hear our prayers that we may be guided by your Divine will.
Bless us with generous minds, clear vision, and cooperation
to give the best that is in us to allow this project to succeed.
Bless Brother Adrian as he draws the plans to select the right building for St. Columban Church.
We ask you to send us skilled craftsmen and carpenters.
We ask that you direct us as we make financial decisions.
May our parishioners be cheerful givers,
willing to donate their money, time, and talents in your name.
May your will be done in all decisions and actions
for the building of the new St. Columban Church.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
As the men left the church, headed home to think, Fr. Francis was thinking
hard himself. His heart felt heavy and his head pounded, just as it had when he
was initially wondering how to solve the problem of the crowded church.
Crossing the church to leave, he noticed several candles had been lighted in front
of the statue of Mary, the Mother of God.
Once Bishop Hogan had told Fr. Francis that when he set out on the mission
in Missouri, he had felt apprehensive and somewhat frightened about the
undertaking until he had decided to entrust the mission and his safety to the
patronage of the Mother of God. Her protection and intercession had given him
confidence to do God’s work in the wilderness of the frontier.
Bishop Hogan had also related to Fr. Francis that early in life he had turned
to St. Joseph. He had chosen Joseph as his confirmation name and added it to
baptismal name, becoming John Joseph Hogan. Bishop Hogan’s devotion to Mary
and Joseph had certainly served him well and saved him from some unfortunate
and dangerous events as he went about the mission work. Fr. Francis knew St.
Joseph was a carpenter, which made it natural to turn to him for consolation as
the parish began this building project.
While walking the ten blocks back to the Franciscan residence north of the
building site, Fr. Francis continued to think about the patronage of The Mother of
God and St. Joseph. “Perhaps,” he thought, “our parish should follow Bishop
Hogan’s lead and adopt the Holy Family as the patrons of our building project. At
the very least, I believe I have my next sermon topic.” His heart began to feel
lighter and he thought God surely was directing his steps as he walked along,
happy to be part of something he felt was the will of God.
.
A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda O’Halloran, copyright St. Columban Church, January 2017
Chapter 5 Skilled Builders
When Fr. Francis entered the make-do monastery on Trenton Street late
that afternoon, Brother Adrian Wewer was standing over his drafting table,
deeply engrossed in a large drawing spread out before him. His fingers were
tracing the lines of the building in the sketch.
Fr. Francis had just walked past the building site, trying to imagine how the
new church would look. He thought of the church at Wien where he had served
before his assignment to St. Columban in Chillicothe. Br. Adrian had designed that
church, so perhaps this one would look similar, although it was bound to be larger
to provide for the greater number of members of the parish here.
Glancing at Fr. Bonaventure who sat reading, Fr. Francis walked over to the
drafting table. He peered over Br. Adrian’s shoulder and asked hopefully, “Are you
nearly finished with our plans?”
Br. Adrian nodded and said, “I am getting close. The plans are shaping up
nicely.”
“I need to ask you something,” Fr. Francis told him. “How much money are
you estimating we will need to build this church? Financial plans need to be
made. I have just come from a meeting with the building committee.”
“Let’s sit down and discuss this, Fr. Francis,” replied Br. Adrian as he pulled
out his chair. “Fr. Bonaventure, will you join us?”
The men seated themselves at their little breakfast table. Br. Adrian
unrolled a sheet of paper so large it extended over the table edge. The two priests
smiled broadly when they saw it was a drawing of the church.
“Praise be to God,” said Fr. Bonaventure. “I have never seen a better
church than this. Look at the high-pitched roof. And the windows? What an
amazing steeple. This church has presence! How big is this church?”
“Here look at this drawing,” answered Br. Adrian as he pulled another page
from his work table.
The two priests looked down at a floor plan. They saw a nave that was 45
by 75 feet. There seemed to be three aisles. There were two transepts with a
sanctuary extending beyond them. How spacious it looked! For once Fr. Francis
seemed speechless.
“This is perfect!” exclaimed Fr. Bonaventure.
Fr. Francis quickly found his voice. “But what is it going to cost? Do you
have estimates for the labor and materials?”
“Not yet,” said Br. Adrian quietly. “But I can give you a guess based on what
it cost to build the church at Wien.”
Fr. Francis shook his head a bit. “I already know what the church at Wien
cost, but I remember that most of the work there was done by the parish
members. If we have to add the cost of labor…. Well, how much are you
thinking? Would $15,000 build this entire church for us?”
“Sorry, Fr. Francis, but I can assure you this church will cost more than that.
This church is much bigger than the one at Wien.”
Fr. Francis began to pace. He walked back and forth in what little space
there was, rubbing his chin. With a frown, he halted and simply said, “Money.” He
buried his face in his hands and started pacing again.
“Come sit back down at the table, Fr. Francis,” said Br. Adrian. “Please. We
should discuss this further.”
Reluctantly, Fr. Francis returned to his chair. He looked down at his feet.
He cleared his throat then crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Br.
Adrian. “All right, let’s discuss. How will we ever be able to pay for this church?
Fr. Bonaventure, do you have any ideas?”
Fr. Bonaventure preferred to avoid problems. He tilted his head. “What’s
that sound?” he asked. “Oh, I believe Fr. Theodore has returned. He has been
visiting the sick today. Let’s see what he has to say.”
“Hello. Why are you all looking so gloomy?” asked Fr. Theodore as he
pulled up the last chair and leaned his arms on the table. He looked at Fr. Francis,
at the church plans spread out on the table, then at Br. Adrian and gasped. “Is this
our new church? The one we will build? It looks so big and so impressive. How
soon will we be able to say mass in it?”
“Maybe never,” droned Fr. Francis sadly.
“Fr. Francis is concerned about raising enough money to build it,” came Fr.
Bonaventure’s response.
“Really?” asked Fr. Theodore. “Where is your trust in the Lord? You know
he will provide. Doesn’t he always? We can make this happen. The people in our
parish know God loves a cheerful giver. We can ask everyone to pray. You know
prayer moves mountains. Maybe we just need to have some dinner. We’ll all feel
better after that.” Fr. Theodore always tried to make things better.
“Dinner? Is it time for dinner already? Then we’d better hurry,” urged Fr.
Francis. “Did you forget that Mrs. Gier has invited us to eat with them this
evening? I’m feeling better already, now that I think of it. Nothing better than
homemade German dinner cooked by a German mother. The Gier brothers want
to show us what they are building at the altar works factory. Shall we go?”
The Gier family had come from Germany. Gertrude Gier was a widow with
six sons. In Germany, her late husband Christian had been a master carpenter and
woodworker. He had taught all their sons the family trade. Gertrude and Chris
had decided that times were changing in Germany. Catholics were suffering
religious oppression under Kaiser Wilhelm I and Chancellor Bismarck. The decision
to immigrate to America had been made and the trip was being planned when
Christian had died. Gertrude had decided to go ahead with the plan her husband
had made which would give her sons more opportunity in America.
After the Gier Family had arrived on U.S. soil, they spent some time in St.
Louis where there was a big German community. One son had gone on to live in
Nebraska. Gertrude and several of her sons had headed to Chillicothe to
determine if there was opportunity in that area. They had found it to be very
welcoming to German immigrants and were pleased to find St. Columban Church
where one of the masses each Sunday included a German sermon.
Son Henry had remained behind in St. Louis at first. Recently he had joined
the family in Chillicothe to work in the altar works factory they were running near
the church building site. They had bought a building at 9th and Trenton St, facing
the Academy of St. Joseph. Currently they all lived and worked in the factory
building.
The four Franciscans had a short walk down the street toward the Gier
place a block away. As they neared the building they began to smell wonderful
aromas in the air. Their spirits lifted as they thought and talked about their
German homes and families. The Gier home would be a comfortable place to
spend the evening, conversing in German and enjoying the homecooked meal.
The door was opened by Englebert, who called out a cheerful welcome.
Mrs. Gier came from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on her apron before
greeting her guests. Momentarily, Emil, Henry, and John appeared and Aloys
stepped in the door from outside. Fr. Francis could tell by the looks of their rosy
cheeks that their mother had insisted they all have a good scrubbing before
sitting down to dinner.
Fr. Francis quickly introduced Br. Adrian to the Gier family before they all
sat down at the large table near the stove. After the blessing was said, the food
was passed around. Two large chickens were roasted to golden perfection, a huge
pot was filled with dumplings covered in rich broth, a platter of sauerbraten was
surrounded by vegetables, and a bowl of brown gravy followed the creamy
mashed potatoes. Freshly baked bread sat next to a large bowl of butter. The
three priests and the Franciscan brother relaxed and enjoyed the meal.
Fr. Francis spoke first. “Br. Adrian has almost completed the plans for our
new church. I told you he is the Provincial Architect for the Franciscans, but did
you know he first trained as a carpenter? Br. Adrian not only designs building, he
has the knowledge and skill to build them!”
The conversation continued with discussions of churches Br. Adrian had
built. The Gier brothers told him about their business constructing hand-carved
altars and church furniture. They took an immediate liking to Br. Adrian and
invited him and the priests into the factory portion of their building after dinner
to see what they were currently working on. They all shared a common love of
working with wood and building things with their own hands. Br. Adrian was
delighted with the artistry and skill he saw exhibited in the Gier family’s finished
products.
As he looked around, Fr. Francis started formulating an idea. Soon after Br.
Adrian had arrived in Chillicothe, he had asked Fr. Francis about local carpenters.
Tonight he had found them. Here they were, visiting with a whole family of highly
skilled master carpenters. Surely there was a way to involve them in the building
of the church.
By the time Mrs. Gier served the warm spiced apple cake, the group was
feeling very congenial. Fr. Francis had regained a feeling of hope about the
building of the church. Yes, money was going to be a problem, but perhaps skilled
builders would be plentiful. This church was needed and God would provide.
Aloys Gier escorted the Franciscans to the door. “We are looking forward to
seeing the plans for the church, Br. Adrian. Fr. Francis, when will that be
possible?”
“A week from Sunday we will have meetings after both masses to show our
parish the plans. We will also discuss the financial aspect of the building project.
Have you and your brothers and mother talked about how you will be able to
help?” asked Fr. Francis. “Our parish will need to work together on this. We will
need money, time, and talent from each member of the parish. Can I count on
your family?”
Aloys nodded his head and said, “We want to help. You can count on us.”
After the Franciscans left, the Gier brothers helped their mother clean the
kitchen as they talked about what they could do for the building of the church.
Several ideas came to mind, but there was no agreement.
John, the ever-practical brother, got right to the heart of the matter. “We
have the skill and ability among us to build that entire church. But I get the feeling
Fr. Francis would not have the funds to pay us our usual wage. What we must do
is figure out how we can donate our time to the church, yet make a living for
ourselves at the same time.”
“I imagine that will be true for many parish members,” said Emil. “They will
be willing to help, yet they must continue to do what is needed to support their
families.”
Henry asked a pointed question. “Do you think there are many folks in the
church who will be able to donate cash money to the project?”
“That is probably what Fr. Francis is worried about,” replied Englebert.
Gertrude Gier had a lifetime of experiences to base her comment on. “It
will take some sacrifices by all of us who attend St. Columban to build this new
church. But oh, what a gift it will be to honor God in this way.”
The Giers were not the only church family discussing how to help. In other
parts of the county, at the homes of members of the building committee, families
talked in earnest of how they could contribute to the building fund or volunteer
their time.
At the Bonderer farm near Utica, Flavian, Catherine, and the children sat at
the kitchen table eating supper. Flavian was thinking about donating native stone
from his quarry for use in the foundation for the church. The heavy rocks would
need to be hauled the five miles to the church property. And someone would
have to build the foundation. Whether he could donate all of that would depend
on the size of the church. After the coming meeting to unveil the plans, he would
have a much better idea of what he could give the church. This would be very
hard work and he couldn’t do it by himself. The children were all too young to be
much help, although he planned to involve them somehow. But perhaps some
other families could help with the labor if he gave the materials.
Flavian told Catherine about his feeling at the building committee meeting
when the talk had turned to the subject of money and pledges. He was doing
fairly well supporting his family, being the thrifty, hard-working man that he was,
but not all the parishioners were that lucky. He knew that quite a few were
subsistence farmers, trying to grow their own food to take care of their needs. A
few of the people in town seemed prosperous, but many of the town folk worked
for wages, just barely enough to keep the children in food and clothing. There had
to be some way everyone could help without requiring cash donations.
Catherine mentioned volunteer work crews. Flavian agreed that if
organized right, the volunteers could save the church many dollars on wages.
Just then young Lawrence Bonderer spoke up. “Papa, I have an idea that
might help. I would sell one or two of my sheep and give the money to the
church.”
His sister Caroline added more. “We will have to wait till spring, but
couldn’t we plant some extra crops or a bigger garden and sell produce or grain or
something and give the money to the church?”
Flavian looked at his children. “You are smart children. Those both sound
like good ideas to share with the others. Maybe they can raise a few extra animals
or plant a field of grain dedicated to the church building fund. And of course, with
some extra prayers, God will provide. We must not forget that we can all help by
praying. I will talk with the others on the building committee and we can share
these ideas at the meetings.”
Meanwhile, Michael Conway had gone home from the building committee
meeting and reported to his wife and son. He had stopped on the way to talk with
Bernie Albers to see if he would agree to help him with masonry work if the new
plans were for a brick church. Both Conway and Albers were experienced brick
layers, one Irish and one German. Perhaps they could give a discount to lay the
bricks and do part of the work for free. They both wished they could just quit their
own work to build the church, but that was not possible with families to support.
Six miles south of town, after the evening chores were finished, the Dorney
family sat down to supper. Edward and Ellen were the parents of six strong sons
and two precious daughters. Edward told his family about the upcoming meetings
to show the parish the plans for the new church. He explained that the whole
parish needed to work together to get the church built. He looked at his boys and
asked who would be willing to donate labor. A hand shot up from each of them
and also from the two girls.
“Good,” said Mr. Dorney. “I have an idea. What if we volunteered to
excavate the dirt for the foundation. We can all work together.”
Maurice, age 13, groaned and looked at his brothers. Is he talking about
digging again? Oh, Dad. You nearly wore us out last time you gave us a project.”
Mr. Dorney answered with a smile. “This would not be a project for me,
son. This would be a project for the Lord above. I think you can do it.”
The Dorney family laughed together and agreed that it was a good plan.
Someone had to do the work. Who would be better than they?
During the coming weeks families throughout St. Columban Parish were
having dinner table discussions about their part in building the church. Many
agreed that they would offer volunteer labor. A few were putting money aside to
donate. And all were thinking and scheming of ideas to help the parish. As word
spread, the new church became a big topic of conversation around town, even
among members of other churches. All were anxious to see the plans for the
church so they could visualize what they were getting themselves into.
A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda Anderson O’Halloran
2/21/17
copyright January 2017 by St. Columban Church, Chillicothe, Missouri.
Chapter 6 The Master Plan
On Sunday Fr. Francis’ homily was indeed about the Holy Family. As was his
style, he started slowly and casually by telling a story. The congregation relaxed
and listened. He told how Bishop John Hogan, at a young age, had chosen both
Mary and Joseph as his patron saints. He told how the bishop had never doubted
their protection and intercession on his behalf, especially during some dangerous
times while he was young Father Hogan on the mission in Missouri. Then
suddenly Fr. Francis’ words seemed inspired by God. The congregation in the
pews perked up. People said the good priest’s eyes flashed when he got to this
point. His voice rose as he announced that the Holy Family would serve as patron
saints for the church construction project. The parish would entrust this holy work
to St. Joseph, the builder, and Mary the Mother of God. Fr. Francis suggested
ways the members of the parish could show special devotion to Mary and Joseph.
He recommended asking for their intercession to make the project successful.
With his powerful voice and his strong vocabulary, he had the full attention of
everyone in the church. Father Francis’ talent as an orator was shining through, a
talent that had helped fill the church each week and made the parish membership
grow in the few months he had been in Chillicothe.
Fr. Francis talked about Bishop Hogan granting his approval for this project
at this parish he had founded as one of his first acts as a missionary in Missouri.
He told of the bishop’s special feelings for St. Columban Parish and the people of
Chillicothe. Bishop Hogan had felt a duty sanctioned by God as he set about
spreading the faith in north Missouri. Likewise, the people of the parish would
feel a duty to God as they took on the building of this new church. Fr. Francis
concluded by announcing that the following Sunday after both Masses, Br. Adrian
would reveal the plans for the church and the building committee would discuss
the finances. He challenged each family to go home and prayerfully choose what
they could do to help. He reminded them that they each had a God-given talent
to share with the parish. He mentioned donations of money, time, and skills that
would be necessary for the completion of the new church. He closed with a
prayer. The energetic orator had done his work.
After Mass, the church members gathered in small groups outside. Men
and women alike shared ideas and talked together about ways they and their
families could help get the church built. The people of the parish could hardly wait
for the week to pass to finally see how their new church would look.
On Monday, Br. Adrian asked Fr. Francis to call a meeting of the building
committee to show them his drawings in advance and hear about financial
arrangements. Br. Adrian wanted some further direction before finalizing the
plans. Fr. Francis arranged for the committee members to meet at noon on
Thursday at the little white church.
Each day that week, Br. Adrian sat at the table by the window in the
Franciscan’s residence, sketching away. A few times he disappeared for several
hours. Fr. Francis thought it odd that he had seemed so nearly finished with his
work last week, but he continued to be so busy this week. He asked Br. Adrian
what he was doing.
“Estimates. Costs. Things like that,” said Br. Adrian. “Just tying up loose
ends. Oh, and I have determined an improvement to the plans.”
On Tuesday morning, Flavian Bonderer stopped by the residence on
Trenton Street to see Brother Adrian privately. Flavian knew Fr. Francis would be
away at the church that time of day. “Brother Adrian, I have some questions.
Would you mind addressing my concerns?”
Br. Adrian politely stopped drawing and asked Mr. Bonderer to sit down.
“Do you know that I own a rock quarry at my farm near Utica?” Flavian
asked Br. Adrian. “I would like to provide rock for the church foundation. But I
need some idea of how much rock would be needed.”
“Ah, you are asking for measurements, are you,” guessed Br. Adrian. “Well,
I will tell you, but please do not speak of it to anyone else. I really don’t want
word to get out until they hear it from me on Sunday.”
Flavian Bonderer was a man of integrity and honesty. He promised to speak
to no one. He just wanted the figures in advance to determine before Thursday’s
committee meeting exactly how much rock he could afford to donate to the
church project. Br. Adrian quietly told him the plan. Flavian walked away with a
clearer understanding of what was about to happen.
Heading down the sidewalk, Flavian met his good friend Edward Dorney
arriving at the residence. “What brings you here today?” he asked Edward.
With a grin, Edward said he imagined it was the same reason Flavian had
just come out of the Franciscan residence. “I’m guessing you were in there
speaking to Br. Adrian, trying to get some information ahead of time. Am I right?”
Sheepishly, Flavian answered a question with a question. “Are you going in
to ask Br. Adrian for information?”
“Well, yes, I am,” stated Edward. “But I am also here to make him an offer.
My sons and I would like to offer to excavate the area for the foundation as part
of our donation to the project.”
“Then I had better go inside with you,” announced Flavian, who turned
around and led Edward Dorney up the steps to the door of the residence.
Br. Adrian stood there peering through the glass. Quickly, he opened the
door with a jerk and invited the two men inside. “Do you have more to say?” he
asked, looking at Flavian.
Flavian pointed to his friend. Edward Dorney told both men about his
agreement with his sons to provide the excavating for the foundation of the new
church. When Flavian heard that, he turned and shared with Edward his own plan
to furnish rock and help build the foundation. Br. Adrian asked them both if they
were experienced in doing such jobs and the men gave him enough information
that he immediately asked them to work together to accomplish the building of a
strong foundation.
“We can’t do much for another few weeks,” said Edward. “We will need to
wait until the ground thaws out.”
“We can begin hauling the rock,” said Flavian. “That job might take longer
than doing the masonry work.”
By the end of Wednesday, Br. Adrian had his new idea set to paper,
although he had shown it to no one. He felt that this would be the best plan for
St. Columban Parish. It seemed a unique idea to him, and he gave thanks to God
for allowing him to think of it. Tomorrow he would share his new master plan
with the building committee and evaluate their opinions. Long before noon on
Thursday, the men who were part of the building committee began arriving at the
old church. They clustered in the front pews as they had before. Talking quietly,
they compared the merits of several fundraising ideas.
Chairman Joseph Pierson carried in a folder of papers and sat down. He
invited Fr. Francis to open the meeting with prayer before he called on Brother
Adrian to address the committee.
Although Br. Adrian was usually humble and quiet, his presentation of the
plans was articulated in a clear and convincing style. He stepped forward, laid
some large papers on a table Fr. Francis had carried in, and began to speak
eloquently about his master plan. Br. Adrian realized the parish had little money
to fund the project, certainly not enough to build the church he had designed and
felt that they needed. Consequently, he had come up with a plan to build the
beautiful church in two phases.
First, the nave would be constructed and for several years it would serve as
the church. To save money, the altar would not be ornate, perhaps a simple slab
of marble. This nave was large enough to give the congregation ample seating
space for the present and in years to come.
Secondly, after the parish had paid off the first phase and built up their
finances, phase two would add a sanctuary and transepts to the church. At that
time a new main altar would be constructed. Only then would Brother Adrian’s
elaborate and beautiful design be complete.
An additional part of the master plan was that Br. Adrian had arranged for
the Franciscan Province of St. Louis to help finance a modest frame monastery to
be built behind the church. Here the three priests and the three Franciscan
brothers who were being sent to assist would be comfortably housed. Although
Br. Adrian felt that a church such as he had designed called for a large monastery
or rectory, that could wait.
After Brother Adrian’s master plan was revealed, the men of the committee
had a good feeling about the church project. They felt this was a feasible choice.
Fr. Francis was visibly relieved. “Now we will discuss some financial measures.
Because our Diocese of St. Joseph is continuing to build the new cathedral there,
the diocese has no money available to loan us. Consequently, our church will be
built with local effort. I believe the good people of the parish can be counted on
to contribute as much as possible, even to the point of sacrifice. We have a strong
Catholic faith here in Chillicothe and we want that to continue.”
Following Fr. Francis, Joseph Pierson stood and opened his folder of papers
to present his own surprise. Mr. Pierson had worked with his own banker to open
a line of credit for St. Columban Parish. He led with the statement, “I believe you
will agree, gentlemen, that the congregation should try to pay for as much as
possible from our campaign funds before borrowing any money. Br. Adrian has
assured us he can be conservative with the hiring of craftsmen and use volunteers
to keep labor costs down. We have several skilled craftsmen right here in the
parish. I hope there will be some donations of material. But just in case the
church costs more than the funds available, here is now a line of credit waiting for
us at the local bank.”
The next order of business was to discuss other fund raising ideas. Flavian
Bonderer brought up the idea of farmers dedicating the sale of certain livestock
or the harvest from dedicated fields to go to the building fund. The ideas from the
last meeting were repeated—dinners, carnivals, and pledges. Someone jokingly
suggested perhaps an anonymous donor would provide a large sum of money for
the project. And another member of the committee had said in all seriousness
that if necessary, they should collect pennies, nickels, and dimes to get this
church built.
After that, Mr. Michael Donoho stood and spoke fervently of the
importance that this new church would have to the people of their parish now
and forever. He volunteered to organize work crews for various needs during
construction. Every man on the building committee nodded his head in
agreement as Mr. Donoho said, “What we need to see happen here is
cooperation among the various groups in the parish. Our parish is comprised of
Germans and Irish, newly-arrived immigrants and long-time settlers, railroad
workers and farmers, businessmen and laborers, old and young. The entire parish
should work together for the greater good to build this holy church.”
That is when Michael Conway stood up. “I agree with every word that Mr.
Donoho just said. And I will tell you now of a plan that illustrates the spirit of
cooperation. Today I have brought Bernie Albers with me. We are both trained
stone masons. He is German; I am Irish. Together we have formed a company to
step forward and work together to get the bricks laid for our new church. We
agree to do most of the work for a reduced rate and to donate several days of
free labor with no pay to keep the costs down. We will need some helpers to mix
mortar, be our hod carriers, and to move bricks as needed. We will train the right
people and we know we can count on the men of the church. Mr. Donoho’s idea
will help with that. Yes, cooperation among us all is key.”
The last item of business was to decide who would speak at the meetings
after Mass on Sunday. Thursday’s meeting adjourned after a prayer of
thanksgiving. Br. Adrian’s two-phase plan seemed quite appropriate and the
members of the Building Committee were full of enthusiasm for the project.
Sunday was a beautiful sunny day, but a cold winter wind blew. The St.
Columban Parish families woke early to get ready for the big day.
Like many of the other families, Michael and Mary Ellen Slattery rose earlier
Sunday morning than usual to get the chores finished at their farm southeast of
town. They had gathered their grown children to accompany them to town for
this special meeting. As good Catholics, the family always fasted until after Mass,
but Mary Ellen busied herself packing a large basket of lunch to feed them all
after church. While the boys harnessed the team and wagon, their father heated
some bricks in the wood stove. These would be tucked under their feet for
warmth on the four-mile trip to town. Nora and Katherine carried some extra
blankets to the wagon.
The Slattery family was a lively bunch. None of the sons or daughters was
married yet, but thirteen-year-old Katherine secretly had her eye on John Donoho
and hoped desperately that he would be at the church. She daydreamed all the
way to town while her brothers talked about whether they could help with any of
the building projects. When she heard them mentioning John’s father Michael
Donoho, she smiled.
Other families of the church were headed to town as well. Usually the town
residents came to the early service, and the farmers attended the late service
after they had done all the chores at home. Today it seemed as though every road
to town was busy with several teams pulling wagons or people riding horseback,
all hurrying to get to the little white church as early as possible. They were eager
to see Br. Adrian’s work and hear the plan.
After the eight o’clock Mass, not a soul left his seat. The back of the church
was crowded with people standing, and those who found they were too late to fit
inside were peering through the windows. Br. Adrian told about all the parts of his
design. He showed them the bell tower with the steeple and cross, the two
transepts projecting from right angles to the nave, giving the church a cross
shape. A roomy sanctuary held the altar. After Br. Adrian spoke about the floor
plan, the shape of the church, the exterior of bricks, and the purpose of the
vaulted ceiling, Fr. Theodore and Fr. Bonaventure circulated among the
congregation, holding the drawings so all could see.
There were plenty of positive comments and every face looked cheerful
until a voice in the back shouted out, “What is all this going to cost?”
At that question, many faces frowned. The happiness about the large and
wonderful church building changed to worry and fret over money.
Immediately, the members of the building committee came to life and
explained some of their fundraising ideas. Most of these sounded realistic to the
church members, but they still weren’t smiling again. There was so much talk
amongst the crowd that no one could hear much of anything.
Mr. Joseph Pierson stepped forward and raised his hand. He asked for the
audience to listen. “I have to admit to you, that we are not a rich parish and our
funds are meager. Our talented architect, Brother Adrian here, has come up with
a solution to our funding troubles. I will let him tell you about this. But first I want
you to think about your duty to God, your creator. I want you to remember that it
is up to all of us here to work together to get this church built. We will raise funds
and we will volunteer to help. We have been extended a line of credit from the
local bank. However, we do not want to incur huge debts. We want to build this
church with care. Now, here is Br. Adrian again.”
Brother Adrian took the floor. He related how he had altered the design to
make it affordable. He showed them the drawings for his master plan. The
audience started to look a little happier when he explained the two phases of
construction with expenses split into two projects. These good people wanted a
church with enough space to hold all the church families. All were ready to do
their share. Brother Adrian’s explanations convinced them of the merit in his
master plan and once again they smiled.
Cautiously, Fr. Frances stood at the front. He repeated what he had told
them at Christmas. “We are building a church to last for a hundred years or more.
Generations who come after us will worship in this church. It will take all of us
here today to get the job done. All of us will need to donate money, or time, or
talent, to get our new church built. Some day in the future people not yet born
will remember us for being far-sighted and brave enough to take this risk, for
working together in cooperation, and for sacrificing to build a church worthy of
our Holy Trinity.”
Father Frances ended with a closing prayer and encouraged the
congregation to vacate the little church because other people were outside
waiting to come in for the 10:00 mass.
The Slattery family reassembled at their wagon, ready to enjoy some of
that food in their mother’s basket. Across the church yard they saw their old
friends, the Donohos, moving through the crowd coming toward them. Michael
Donoho and Michael and Mary Ellen Slattery had all been born in Tipperary,
Ireland. Their families back in Ireland had been friends and were connected
through marriages. Although they all lived in Livingston County, the Slattery
family lived southeast of Chillicothe and the Donoho farm was northwest of town,
so they seldom saw each other except at church.
Katherine Slattery lowered her eyes shyly as her brothers and the Donoho
boys began talking about what they could do to help build the church. From the
sounds of it, both sets of brothers were bold enough to feel equipped to build the
church by themselves. Then Michael Donoho interrupted. “I am going to be
scheduling the volunteer work crews, boys, and I will personally make sure that
each one of you gets plenty of chances to work.”
Mrs. Slattery chose that minute to bring out the food. Enough hungry
young men were standing there to make it quickly disappear. The church bells
were ringing for the second Mass to begin, so both families took their leave with
shouted thanks for the food and promises to get together soon. They were
among the last to leave from the early Mass.
After the second Mass of the morning, the building committee and the
Franciscans were better prepared and knew what questions and comments to
expect. They carefully explained to the rest of the congregation how this new
master plan was going to work. They had learned from their experience from the
early meeting with the previous group. Fr. Francis once again reminded all those
assembled of the need for money, time, talent, and hard work from each of them.
The church members left the meeting with a determined feeling and a lot on their
minds.
For the next few weeks, the people of St. Columban parish could do little
but talk about the building project. Nothing much could be accomplished until the
ground thawed enough to excavate for the footing and the foundation walls. The
Dorneys were ready to dig. The Bonderers began stockpiling rock to haul to the
building site. Every family in the parish was praying and considering how they
could contribute. The building of this fine new church was about to commence.
A Duty Sanctioned by Brenda Anderson O’Halloran
2/21/17
copyright January 2017 by St. Columban Church, Chillicothe, Missouri.
Chapter 7 A Duty Sanctioned by God
One winter Sunday, while the families of St. Columban were waiting for
spring and the weather to be agreeable for starting the building project, a
scripture was shared that the parish took to heart:
“Now this I say: He who soweth sparingly, shall also reap sparingly: and he
who soweth in blessings, shall also reap blessings. Every one as he hath
determined in his heart, not with sadness, or of necessity: for God loveth a
cheerful giver.” 2 Corinthians 9: 6-7
Many of the faithful came up with creative ways to accumulate funds for
the construction effort. They examined their spending patterns to see what could
be reduced to provide donation funds. There were those who sacrificed to add to
the fund; they made do and did without to save money to give toward building
the church. Parish groups were devising clever money-making projects to have
funds to contribute. The people of the parish felt it was their God-given duty to
build this church.
As soon as the ground had thawed enough to dig, the Dorney family began
the excavation of the building site. Br. Adrian had carefully staked out the
placement for the foundation and he gave the Dorneys instructions about the
depth. They dug the trenches by hand to control the straight lines and square
corners. After all seven Dorneys labored diligently the first day, there was still
much to do. Mr. Michael Donoho arranged for additional volunteers to increase
the size of the crew.
While the trenching was going on, the Bonderer family was supervising the
delivery of native stone from their quarry west of Utica to be used to build the
foundation. Of great help to the Bonderers were the Murphys and the Andersons,
two families who lived south of Utica. All three families had recently helped
establish St. Joseph’s Church in Utica, but Mass was said there only once each
month.
Patrick Anderson visited with the other families and shared his feelings. “I
believe it would be smart for all of us to support St. Columban’s construction
effort. This new church gives us the option of traveling just a bit further to attend
Mass any week of the month. We will continue to be loyal members of St.
Joseph’s, but I feel called to honor God by helping with the construction of this
new larger church.” The others agreed. The three families used their teams and
wagons to deliver several heavy loads of stone each week from Bonderer’s quarry
the six miles to the church site until there was enough rock to begin the
foundation.
When the foundation excavation was complete, Michael Conway and
Bernie Albers, the brick layers, came to watch the Dorneys, Bonderers, and others
from the parish who were laying the foundation walls. After several days of work,
the walls were properly built, thicker at the bottom and tapered up like a wedge
to hold the framing, just as Br. Adrian wanted them.
One day as the crew worked laying the rocks with mortar, Thomas Dorney
spontaneously began quoting appropriate scripture to pass the time. “And I say to
thee: That thou are Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates
of hell shall not prevail against it. Matthew 16:18.” The rest of the crew cheered
and shouted amens.
William Murphy, not to be outdone, called out, “The stone which the
builders rejected has become the cornerstone. Matthew 21:42. Who else has a
scripture for us?” A silence followed as the others thought hard trying to
remember another appropriate line of scripture. They all vowed to themselves
that before tomorrow they would find a fitting verse. From that day on, someone
quoted scripture nearly every day at the building site.
The work days of early spring went on until the volunteer crew finished the
foundation to the specifications of Br. Adrian and the two bricklayers. It was time
to start construction.
Mr. John Miller and his sons John and Louis arrived early on the day for
beginning the framing work. Mr. Miller was experienced in building and had been
the first to volunteer when Michael Donoho began recruiting work crews. Several
other men and boys from the parish arrived ready to work, bringing the heavy
hammers and handsaws they would need. First, they worked in teams to lift the
heavy wood beams into place before nailing the floor joists across, a timeconsuming job when all cutting required use of hand saws. They realized it would
take several days to put the floor joists and sub-floor in place on a space 45 feet
by 75 feet, no matter how many workers were on the crew. By the time the floor
decking was finished, both Miller sons and the other young men helping had
gained valuable building experience, although they all suffered from sore arms.
Br. Adrian had been busy during this time hiring master builders from
Quincy, Illinois, and St. Louis, Missouri, to come help build the church. These were
men who had helped him build his previous churches. He was looking ahead to
the difficult job of building the vaulted ceilings and the steeply pitched roof. The
men of the parish had very good construction skills for simple projects, but they
had never done anything like this. The other cause for concern was the need for
safe scaffolding, both inside and outside the church.
By the time the floor was finished, the hired builders had not arrived. It was
time to start erecting the very tall walls. Scaffolding would be required for laying
brick for walls so high. Brother Adrian walked down to the altar factory and asked
politely if the Gier brothers would have any time to help him teach the parish
volunteers how to build the scaffolding. He knew that the Giers were experienced
in the techniques necessary to raise the walls, having been trained well by their
late father Christopher before the family had left Germany. He also had been
watching the volunteer workers to discover which men would be best to help set
up the tall scaffolding. Michael Donoho arranged a crew to receive some training
in wall building. They were taught by the brothers Gier and by Br. Adrian, who
himself had been a trained carpenter in Germany before he became a Franciscan
and an architect. Michael Conway was starting to worry about being responsible
for all the brick laying if the hired craftsmen didn’t show up soon.
All the people of the parish wanted to be very involved in this project and
felt it was their duty to contribute in any way they could. Each day visitors came
to the site to note the progress or just sit and watch the workers. Whenever the
rural members of the parish came into town for supplies, they routinely drove
past the building site to check progress or to see when their help would be
needed. The construction of the new St. Columban Church was the talk of the
town and many days the building crew included members of other local churches
who kindly offered to help.
With few weather delays that spring, the project moved right along. The
master builders from Quincy arrived, accompanied by three additional Franciscan
brothers who had recently been assigned to St. Columban Parish and just
happened to be experienced carpenters themselves. The hired builders from St.
Louis came in on the train soon after the others, ready to assist with putting up
the walls. Michael Conway and Bernie Albers began laying the bricks. The more
progress that showed on the building, the more excited the members of the
church became about helping with construction jobs and raising money for the
project.
Every day, crews were busy at the church building site. Some were actual
paid carpenters, but volunteer helpers were also busy cleaning up scraps, hauling
stones, brick, or lumber, and completing other tasks. Br. Adrian was continually
on-site, assisting the builders in interpreting his blueprints. Building in the neoGothic style was complicated, but there were several hired carpenters who had
worked for Br. Adrian previously, and they knew the process of what must be
done.
The building was ready for the laying of the cornerstone on May 25, 1879.
This was an eagerly awaited event. The Most Reverend John J. Hogan, Bishop of
St. Joseph, came to lead the ceremony in this town he dearly loved. A crowd of
several hundred attended. Right Reverend Abbot Frowin Conrad, O.S.B., from
Conception Abbey was on hand to give the German sermon. Reverend Michael
Richard came from Quincy, Illinois, to give the English sermon. The three priests
from the parish took part, and most of the other nearby priests of the Diocese of
St. Joseph made a point of being there for the ceremony.
As was customary at a Catholic cornerstone ceremony, the location where
the altar would soon be located was indicated by a wooden cross standing 18 feet
tall. The Bishop and the Abbot led a procession of a long line of priests and a
dozen altar boys around the block of the church property to signal the beginning
of the ceremony. They stopped near the cross where the cornerstone was
waiting. There was much sprinkling of holy water and swinging of the incense
burner at the site of the future altar, the cornerstone, and the beginning of the
walls. The large crowd assembled was blessed and many prayers were offered.
The procession marched around the perimeter of the church as the Franciscan
Brothers present chanted the Litany of Saints. Stopping at the corner where the
stone would be laid, Bishop John J. Hogan placed concrete in the hole with a
trowel, then set the stone, assisted by the three parish priests. The service
continued. The German sermon and the English sermon were preached by the
two visiting priests, the church choir sang, and at the end the Bishop gave the
Benediction.
The proud members of the church talked about the magnificent ceremony
for weeks afterward, and more volunteers signed up to help with the
construction. The work list included parish members by the names of Donoho,
Kinsella, Murphy, Slattery, Saale, Gladieux, Pierson, Kappus, Miller, Anderson,
Potts,
Carr, Dorney, and others. So many people were willing to give of their time and
skills that the small monastery on the east side of the church was also under
construction at the same time. The Franciscans were going to have a new
residence with more space to contain them all.
Additional lumber was delivered nearly every day. Bricks were purchased at
a local brickyard. Fr. Francis was keeping track of the costs as he watched the
walls slowly rise and the roof go on. The parish priests were no strangers to
building construction. As time allowed, Fr. Francis, Fr. Bonaventure, and Fr.
Theodore raised their own hammers and spent time on the construction crews.
While working at the site, they prayed for Divine guidance and inspiration.
During the summer the work of building the church progressed rapidly with
so many people involved. The hired carpenters worked every day building the
columns and the vaulted ceiling. The skilled carpenters of the Gier family worked
as much as they could while keeping the altar factory running. A crew was formed
from men and boys not afraid of heights to put the roof on the church. Brick
layers Conway and Albers and all their newly-trained volunteer assistants worked
long and hard, laying bricks as fast as they could. The school boys on summer
vacation were asked to help hoist the bricks and mortar up the scaffold
surrounding the tall walls. Various women of the church took turns bringing
coffee and cakes to feed the workers on their morning breaks while others helped
provide lunch or afternoon snacks. There were always children watching the
construction, and they knew their duty was to keep the water buckets full,
pumping water at the Academy of St. Joseph across the street. The entire parish
felt the need to take part in this wonderful work of building a church to the glory
of God.
In the evening, after the workers had gone home, the Franciscans had a
habit of going to the church to do whatever job remained. Neighbors of the
building site reported enjoying the sounds echoing from inside the building as the
Franciscans chanted hymns accompanied by the rhythm of hammers pounding
while darkness fell.
The members of the building committee came often and worked on the
crews when they could. Father Francis convened the committee when any
problem arose or any decision needed to be made. Adam Saale worked on the
books for the building project, keeping track of the income from monetary
donations and the expenses of materials and labor. Joseph Pierson went over the
accounts and reported to the committee at the monthly meetings. The costs were
mounting up slightly faster than the donations.
Late that summer, Fr. Francis and Bishop Hogan conferred about a
dedication for the new church. Because the construction had been blessed with
good weather and plenty of workers, the project was moving quickly. The two
men targeted Sunday, November 23, as the day for the official dedication. The
ceremony was planned and the invitations went out.
As summer turned to fall, the monetary contributions to the St. Columban
building fund showed an increase. Quite a few members of the church had
followed Flavian Bonderer’s suggestion to earmark a certain animal to be raised
and sold for the project or to designate a certain field as “The Lord’s Acre” and
give the money made at harvest time to the building fund. For the many farm
families in the parish, this was the best way to put their hands on actual money to
donate for the church construction.
The number of volunteers working on the church naturally diminished
during harvest season as the workers were needed on their own farms or to help
neighbors bring in their crops. That was also when the work moved indoors to the
finishing and trim work. More master builders and skilled artisans were needed
for this intricate job. The Gier family often deserted the altar factory to help work
on the church interior along with the men who had been hired from Quincy and
St. Louis.
A large crowd of on-lookers showed up the day that the stained-glass
windows were installed in the north and south walls. Extra help was needed to
uncrate the heavy windows and lift them up into the correct position for the
carpenters to fasten them in without breakage. This was also an interesting day
for the people who liked to drop by the project just to watch. Once the windows
were in place, the building seemed suddenly to become a real church. The church
members, the volunteers, and the paid workers could see the fruits of their labors
and realize what a fine church this was. It wouldn’t be long now until the first
mass would be said in the new St. Columban Catholic Church of Chillicothe.
On Saturday, November 22, visitors began arriving in town for the
dedication service on Sunday. The eastbound train from St. Joseph brought Right
Reverend John J. Hogan, Bishop of St. Joseph, and his assistants. When they
arrived at the Browning House Hotel on the southeast corner of the square,
Bishop Hogan was reminded of his first day in Chillicothe, back in 1857, when he
had first entered the town which he had found delightful and charming. He
remembered staying at the only hotel, just a block west of where the Browning
House now stood. All those years ago, that old hotel was also the headquarters
for the mail stages, a busy place with much activity. He smiled to himself, thinking
of how different the town was today. It had prospered and the population was
four times bigger than in 1857.
Gathering his assistants, Bishop Hogan led them on the six-block walk to
the newly constructed St. Columban Church. They needed to look around and do
a rehearsal of their part in tomorrow’s dedication service. First, he must call on
the Franciscans at their new monastery, for they would be expecting him. He
wondered what they had planned.
Sunday, November 23, 1879, looked to be sunny and bright, a wonderful
day for a large event. It was the Feast Day of St. Columban, the perfect day to
dedicate the new St. Columban Church of Chillicothe, Missouri. Every member of
the church had been determined to attend the dedication ceremony. They had
contributed so much to make this day become a reality. They had all worked hard
and given all that they had to achieve this accomplishment. Finally, they would
experience Mass inside the new and spacious building.
At the Miller farm, teen-aged Caroline’s eye popped open even before the
sun came up. She was eager to begin this big day, wearing her best dress, freshly
ironed for the occasion. The ladies of the church had asked her to help cook and
serve the dinner to be held after the dedication. Finally, she felt that she was
getting her chance to be part of the parish work.
During the summer, her father John Miller, along with her brothers John
and Louis, had spent as much time helping with the church building jobs as they
could spare from the farm. To ease their burden, Caroline had done the milking
and as many of the other farm chores as she could manage. But today she would
finally be giving her time to the church. As she went downstairs, she felt quite
grown up.
Caroline found her smiling mother busy in the kitchen. “Can you believe
today is the big day we have been working toward?” she merrily asked Mrs.
Miller.
Just then the back door burst open as her father and brothers came in from
the morning chores. “Hey, Sis, look at you, all gussied up for the dedication
ceremony,” her dad said with a whistle.
“You men had better hurry up and get yourselves ready,” Caroline replied.
“Mom and I need to get to town to help get the dedication dinner ready. I ironed
all your shirts yesterday and hung them in your rooms. Let’s go!”
All those attending gathered in the yard of the Academy of St. Joseph
across the street from the church. The doors of the church building remained
closed and could only be opened by the bishop this first Sunday, according to the
Rites of Dedication. The people of the church stood in groups wearing their best
clothes, hopeful and aware of the importance of this grand occasion.
At the proper time, the bells in the steeple began to ring out, a signal to
begin. The procession came toward the people, led by Right Reverend John J.
Hogan, Bishop of St. Joseph. The pastor of the church, Father Francis Moenning,
O.F.M., and the architect and supervisor of the building project, Brother Adrian
Wewar, O.F.M., were next, behind Bishop Hogan. The remainder of the priests
and Franciscan brothers who had come to share the event followed. Last came
the group of altar boys. Bishop Hogan greeted the audience, addressed them with
a short speech, then invited everyone to join in the procession to the new church.
Again, he led the way, followed by the others in the long line of people excited to
witness this big day.
At the door of the church, the processions stopped. The formal “Handing
Over the Church Building to the Bishop” ceremony was conducted by Fr. Francis,
Br. Adrian, the St. Columban Building Committee, and representatives of the
volunteer workers led by Michael Conway and John Miller. The members of the
congregation stood beaming with smiles. The doors were officially opened by
Bishop Hogan, and everyone entered the church as the choir sang a hymn.
Next the church building needed to be blessed. A vessel of water was
brought to Bishop Hogan. He said prayers while he blessed the water, as a sign of
repentance, a reminder of baptism, and a symbol of purification. He went through
the church sprinkling the people, the church walls, and the altar as the
Franciscans’ chanting sounded through the building.
After readings from the scriptures and prayers, the relics of saints were
placed in the altar. The Litany of the Saints was chanted. Then the altar and the
building walls were anointed with oil of chrism as a symbol of Christ the Anointed
One.
The incensing began at the altar, to represent the sacrificial prayer of
Christ. Those attending were incensed as the living temples of the Holy Spirit.
Then the new building was incensed as a symbol of the prayer that occurred
there.
The time to prepare the altar came next. Some of the Franciscans wiped
the altar dry, followed by representatives of the congregation who dressed the
altar with the ceremonial cloths. Bishop Hogan lit the first candle, calling on the
light of Christ to shine in this church. The three local priests then began to light
the altar candles in preparation for the Mass.
The dedication service ended with the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of
the Mass in the new Church of St. Columban. Fr. Michael Richard of Quincy had
returned once again to give the sermon to those assembled.
The visitors and the members of the parish alike all felt a special holiness in
participating in this first Mass in the new building. It was a day that no one
attending would ever forget, a day when all present realized that the planning,
waiting, working, and praying was well worth the effort to provide the parish with
a new, spacious church. This was a beautiful church that would one day be even
grander with the promised additions in Br. Adrian’s master plan.
St. Columban Catholic Church of Chillicothe, Missouri, in the Diocese of St.
Joseph, was a fine strong church, meant to last, a part of the one holy and
apostolic church founded by Jesus Christ nearly 2000 years before. Generations
after November 23, 1879, this church would still be standing as a place where
Catholics gathered to worship God through the sacrifice of the Mass. If those
future members of St. Columban Parish would accept their duty to God to work
together and contribute the best that was in them, the way the faithful people
sitting in the church at its dedication had done, with the support of bishops as
worthy as Bishop Hogan and priests as observant and hard-working as Fr. Francis
Moenning, nothing would ever keep this church from continuing to be the
magnificent holy place it was that day of its dedication.