Priests, sisters recall dads' influence

A foreman for the New York State Department of Transportation, Harold didn't have much time off from work, but he found time to take his children to stock car races and cook huge Sunday breakfasts of bacon, eggs, potatoes, buttered toast and coffee with cream -- "in the days before you cared about cholesterol," Father O'Brien said.

He recalled his dad for The Evangelist, which surveyed priests and women religious in the Albany Diocese to find out what their fathers meant to them.

Listening

"He would keep the engine so clean and keep everything in the trunk," recalled Father O'Brien, one of four siblings.

The O'Brien family would pray the Rosary every night, and Harold was an usher, trustee and member of parish societies at St. George's Church in Pittstown.

Into seminary

In the seminary, Father O'Brien had just two visiting days per year, but his dad made every one.

After retiring from the state, Harold whitewashed barns and kept on dancing; he even won a championship for dancing from Troy's senior citizens. He died of colon cancer at 73 while Father O'Brien was on sabbatical in Rome.

Father's Day wasn't a big celebration in his family, but Father O'Brien realized that talking about his dad just might make him the subject of his homily this weekend.

Family man

"Even though he worked, he was always present to the family," Sister Joan Mary said. "Work never got in the way of his being a father to us."

He would help his children with homework, take them on rides or just listen when they wanted to talk.

Into the convent

"For both of them, it was important that I was happy and a fulfilled person," she said.

Being close to her dad, who is retired but volunteers at St. James Church in Albany, means a lot to Sister Joan Mary. Among the qualities they have in common are "his sincere approach to life. He's reflective, a thinker, and a hard worker who has lots of energy," she said.

Sister Joan Mary visits her parents each Sunday, but this Sunday and every Father's Day are special for her dad. "I could never forget Father's Day. He lives for it, the presents and cards," she said.

Sports and religion

"I don't try to correct him on sports, and he doesn't try to correct me on religion," the priest said.

Sports certainly is Mr. Russo's area of expertise; he has been a minor league baseball player, physical education teacher and coach. He grew up in Troy, attended Ithaca College and taught at La Salle School in Albany and in the Ravena-Coeymans-Selkirk Central School District. As a dad, he encouraged his children to play sports, and the future priest gave track and baseball a try.

Values

"It was expected, this concern for others," he said.

When he was in eighth grade, young Peter first mentioned his desire to become a priest to his parents. He went on retreat with Franciscans, and his parents were pleased with their son's ambition, but his dad suggested that he attend high school, play sports and date girls first.

"I would be able to judge better what I was giving up," Father Russo said. His calling to priesthood grew stronger, so he entered Mater Christi Seminary, and his parents have been supportive of his decision and ministry ever since.

Health concerns

Three years ago, his dad was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma and was given six months to live. He had lived a full life but wasn't ready to die; chemotherapy and the prayers of prayer chain members helped drive his dad's cancer into remission, Father Russo said.

The priest visits his parents at Saratoga Lake every weekend, and they recently celebrated their 52nd wedding anniversary. For Father's Day, family members will head up for a picnic, and Father Russo spoke for his siblings when describing their dad's influence upon them: "We are in so many ways like our dad."

Vacation

"It was not important to him to have a son, but to have children and be a really good parent," Sister Katherine said.

He also helped his children enjoy traveling, and they often would visit cousins in Boston and host them when they came to Syracuse. Family vacations added to their love of traveling.

Vocation

"They certainly must have planted the seed; and when I raised the issue, they were very, very supportive," she said.

Sister Katherine has worked in Utica, Schenectady and Albany, but she visited her dad when he moved to Tucson, Arizona, and her parents came to see her while she was a student at the University of Notre Dame. William died in 1984, but he and his daughter have a lot in common: shyness, love for the outdoors and making a difference in people's lives, which he taught his children from a very young age.

"I really enjoy offering people new and different choices, and I think I received that as a gift from him," Sister Katherine said.

She misses her dad, but Father's Day isn't a time when Sister Katherine feels sad. "I will think of him with great affection and fondness. It's nothing but very happy memories," she said.

Links to father

The owner of a construction company, Frank managed to find time to play with his six sons, and only once during the week would he go out to bowl.

"He was a great dad, was always at home, and we hardly ever had a baby-sitter," Father Rosch said. Golf outings and family trips to their summer home in Lake Luzerne were very much a part of the future priest's upbringing.

Priests' influence

"We always had priests over to the house, and mom and dad would talk about them all the time," Father Rosch said. "That atmosphere led to my vocation, I'm sure."

Young James was so serious about becoming a priest that he wanted to begin his preparation right after graduating Our Lady of Angels School in Albany. He instead went to Vincentian Institute and entered Mater Christi Seminary after that. His five brothers went into the family's construction business, but his decision to become a priest was welcomed by Frank.

"Even though he didn't push any of us that way, when I told him I knew he was very proud," Father Rosch said.

Lasting impact

The priest said he shares his father's patience and love for golf, and he tries to play as much as he can, another piece of advice from dad.

Frank died about six years ago. As Father's Day nears, Father Rosch tried to remember how his family celebrated the day that's meant to honor dads.

"Knowing my dad, he probably took all of us to the golf course," he said.

On the road

Whenever she and her girlfriends went out, "he would pick us up, bring us and take us home," Sister Elizabeth said. "He never thought it was tough; that was what he was supposed to do."

Rocco would also drop off his daughter at morning Masses at which she played the organ before he went to his job as a stock man for Montgomery Ward. He also taught her to drive when she was old enough.

Always there

"When I was in the convent, I'd call and say, 'Daddy, could you take me somewhere?' or 'Could you do something for me?' and he'd come right away," Sister Elizabeth said. "He was the kind of father who really believed he was supposed to help his children no matter what." She is the older of two Dovidio children.

Now living in Wynantskill, 81-year-old Rocco has had health problems in recent years, including three bypass surgeries and an aortic aneurysm rupture, the latter of which almost ended his life. Sister Elizabeth and her sister have learned not to take their dad or mom for granted.

"We thank God for the miracle of having him because we've been so close to losing him," she said. "I thank God for having both my parents."

Father's Day used to be celebrated with a big dinner, but Sister Elizabeth now takes her parents out for dessert. She hasn't forgotten to get him a Father's Day gift, though: a fax machine/photocopier, to help him with prescriptions and insurance information.

Quiet man

"His interest in us was expressed every night," Father Gilchrist said. "He'd ask, 'What did you do today?' and rarely said anything about his own work" as a tool maker for General Electric in Schenectady.

Frank was a special man who was interested in sports and religion. A parishioner of St. Brigid's Church in Watervliet, he was president of the Holy Name Society and an usher. That involvement in parish life probably influenced the future priest, who said his dad offered "nice, quiet affirmation" of his decision to enter the priesthood.

"I really feel it's one of the reasons that I got interested in Church," said Father Gilchrist, a member of the first class of Siena College in 1937, which included five future priests.

Priesthood

Father Gilchrist spent almost 30 years as a military chaplain, but he still would visit his dad every few years. They even made it to the Polo Grounds for a game during the 1954 World Series between the New York Giants and Cleveland Indians.

Two years after retiring from GE, Frank died of cancer. Father Gilchrist, who was stationed in England at the time, said his father's concern for people and sense of humor are two of the gifts he received from his dad.

Asking parishioners about their dads has become part of Father Gilchrist's homily every Father's Day; he also calls his siblings to ask them what they remember about their dad, who gave them so much in fatherhood.

"It may be the most important profession," he said.

(06-17-99) [[In-content Ad]]