Fascinating priest joins All Souls

I was saddened recently to read of the death of Rev. Gregory Palma, OFM. He was such a fascinating human being.

I can't say I really knew Father Palma. I interviewed him once, five years ago, at what was then his pastorate -- tiny St. Mary's in Cementon (Smith's Landing), which later became a mission of St. Patrick's in Catskill and then closed. At the time, he was looking toward his 82nd birthday and joking about being "up for retirement." But he still spoke passionately about his family history, hobbies and hopes for the future.

Father Palma, who spoke five languages, said his ancestors had fled Italy in wartime, some of them heading to Cuba and others to America. One relative, Estrada Palma, became the first president of Cuba; Father Palma's father became the head of first the Michigan, then the New York district of the U.S. Secret Service, serving under four presidents. His father's New York home was also used in the filming of the first two "Godfather" movies.

Through his father, Father Palma met Guglielmo Marconi. He remembered staring at Marconi, who was reputed to have a glass eye, until Marconi realized what he was doing, pointed at one eye and said, "It is this one."

The priest was an artist from a young age, creating plaster frescoes and even painting a picture as a gift for a priest who came to bless his family's new home. As an adult, he painted landscapes of Smith's Landing and the Catskill area in acrylics and oils. One of his paintings of Smith's Landing was raffled off for $400 during Catskill's bicentennial celebration.

Father Palma was also a pilot for more than 60 years who flew single- and twin-engine planes and seaplanes. During our interview, he fondly remembered a plane he flew as part of a flying club, showing off photos of himself as a young man with different planes.

One year, he concelebrated a Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City with Cardinal Karol Wojtyla. The pair chatted and traded books of poetry, Father Palma not suspecting that the cardinal would one day become Pope John Paul II.

Father Palma came to St. Mary's parish as a one-year fill-in, taking time from his position as rector of a seminary in Andover, Massachusetts. He ended up staying for about 15 years, living alone in a small room over the church. Three times, his room was broken into, but he shrugged off the burglaries. "They stole personal things," he told me. "I have no money."

During those years, the parishioners of St. Mary's grew older and died, and their children left the area until only about 20 families -- mostly Croatian -- were left. When I interviewed the priest, he knew his parish wouldn't be around much longer. While he grieved the loss of the church, Father Palma was enthusiastic about the opportunity to "retire" to giving talks to Franciscan novices at the local friary, hoping to spark the vocations that he said were lacking because of the disintegration of family life. He also planned to help out at Sunday Masses and publish another book of poetry.

"It's foolish to pay for the upkeep of the parish," he admitted. "Most folks coming [to St. Mary's] from the outside come because I'm giving them some sermonizing they like."

But even in retirement, he thought he had much left to give. Tapping his head, he said he used to tell seminarians he taught, "You can do anything you want. The average person uses 10 percent of what's up here. Beef it up to 20."

(Father Palma died Oct. 14. He had been a Franciscan priest for 59 years.)

(10-28-99) [[In-content Ad]]