| Back to INDEX | FOR WYOMING’S CHILDREN: Bishop Patrick A. McGovern: [31] St. Joseph’s Orphanage began in the early 1920’s as an idea in the mind of Patrick A. McGovern, D.D., Bishop of Cheyenne. Often, he had been approached by priests or by members of a family and asked to provide a home for children whose parents were dead or were unable to care for them. The only facilities in Wyoming for homeless children were the Episcopal Cathedral Home in Laramie and the recently established State Home for Dependent Children in Cheyenne. Many more Wyoming children needed care than these institutions could accommodate. Bishop McGovern’s inquiries revealed that 77 Wyoming children were being cared for in three Denver Catholic orphanages alone. The need for a diocesan children’s home confirmed, Bishop McGovern put his plans into motion. It seems as though Divine Providence initiated the fund drive for the future children’s home, for in 1923 three bequests came to Bishop McGovern to be used for the care of homeless children. John Koshir, an eastern European immigrant from Rock Springs, left $20,000 in [32] property to the Bishop of Cheyenne. Mary Walters of Saratoga and consignor Hugh Cummiskey, former pastor of St. Lawrence O’Toole parish in Laramie, also left bequests to the bishop, and the orphanage und drive was on its way. As a result, Bishop McGovern first formed a legal corporation under the name of St. Joseph’s Orphanage, managed by himself, the Vicar General of the Diocese, the Very Reverend John T. Nicholson, the diocesan Chancellor, the Reverend James Hartmann, John T. McDonald of Torrington, and Joseph R. Sullivan of Laramie. In 1924, after considering several Wyoming towns as possible sites for his Orphanage, Bishop McGovern settled on the quiet farming community of Torrington, where a 93 acre irrigated farm was purchased by the diocese from F.M. Pearson of the Lincoln Land Company for $3500, a price so low that it represented a $15000 gift to the future institution. John McDonald aided the bishop in obtaining this property and faithfully acted as treasurer during the intensive three-year fund drive that followed from 1925 to 1928 to raise the $175,000 needed to construct and furnish the main building. FUND DRIVE BEGUN There followed a statewide fund drive among Catholics and non-Catholics alike, in which subscriptions payable over a three-year period were solicited in almost every parish in Wyoming. The Rock Springs parish, Sts. Cyril and Methodius, was exempted from solicitation because the mines in that community operated only one day a week and many of the men were laid off for months on end. In addition, St. Anthony’s parish in Casper was exempted because it was about to embark on a fund drive for a school building. Bishop McGovern, though single-minded in his dedication to the realization of his dream, was generous in his concern for his people, and excused these hard-hit parishes from pledging until conditions improved. CONSTRUCTION UNDERWAY The stark, three story building, lacking the trees and shrubs, the entrance foyer and the adjoining chapel, dining wing, gym, and outbuildings familiar today jutted up over the flat farm land south of Torrington like a sunflower in a field of beets. Yet inside, a bright, comfortable atmosphere prevailed. Many windows gave the large corner dormitories the benefit of Wyoming’s sunshine and fresh air. Modern plumbing and heating systems provided comfort unknown in many homes in 1930. Kitchens with the latest food preparation equipment stood ready to serve meals to the children in several bright dining rooms. Some $25,000 worth of furniture was put in place ready for small [34] sleepers, sitters and eaters to enjoy. A separate out-building housed a small steam laundry and boiler room and a wing was set aside as an infirmary for the care of sick youngsters. In July of 1930 — even before the institution was formally dedicated — a group of Franciscan Sisters of New York arrived to take up the daily care of St. Joseph’s orphans. Children began to be referred immediately, so that by September 1, the official opening, a dozen or so children were settled in the new Home. More than $160,000 was spent on the construction and furnishing of St. Joseph’s before the official opening. Yet, thanks to the generosity of Catholic and non-Catholic Wyomingites alike, and to the perseverance of Bishop McGovern in activating that generosity, the institution was entirely debt free. It was providential that the successful fund drive to build St. Joseph’s was virtually completed by the time the Great Depression set in. The next decade would prove to be one in which such fund raising efforts would be much more difficult, even though it was a period when many children would need the shelter of a loving home. GRAND OPENING On the dedication day, September 1, 1930, Bishop McGovern led a procession of churchmen, including Bishop J. Henry Tihen of Denver, Bishop John J. Cantwell of Los Angeles, Bishop George J. Finnegan of Helena, Bishop John J. Mitty of Salt Lake, and numerous priests from Nebraska and Wyoming around and through the building. Bishop McGovern then addressed the assembly from a large, open-air platform set up on the grounds, citing the parable of the Good Samaritan as the inspiration of those who care for the needy and orphaned. All those who had worked to make the orphanage a reality, he said, and especially the spiritual daughters of St. Francis who devoted their lives to caring for the children, were inspired by the words of our Lord: “As long as you did it to one of my least brothers, you did it to Me.” II Reverend John Henry: [36] Bishop McGovern had chosen a young priest, Father John Henry, a native of Ireland, to be the first superintendent of St. Joseph’s. Born in County Sligo in 1901, Father Henry was tenth of eleven children of a poor farmer. He told Torrington friends that, although his father raised turkeys, he had never eaten one until he came to the United States because the family was too poor to afford one of its own crops. Ordained at 25 in Carlow, Ireland, Father Henry was recruited personally by Bishop McGovern to come to Wyoming. He arrived in 1926. He spent some months in Rock Springs, before taking up postgraduate studies at Catholic University in Washington, D.C., in 1927-28. He returned to be assistant pastor at St. Mary’s in Cheyenne until the orphanage opened in 1930. Bishop McGovern esteemed the young Irish priest very highly, and by giving him the superintendency of St. Joseph’s, his own favorite project, showed him a mark of his special favor. However, Father Henry’s family in Ireland did not understand the compliment, for in Ireland to be assigned to an orphanage was considered a punishment. There, the priest was simply a chaplain, while an order of nuns administered the institution. Father Henry often told how his relatives would write asking what he had done wrong. Father Henry had the proverbial Irishman’s sense of the humor in any situation. One story he enjoyed telling about himself was of his encounter with the immigration official on his entry into the United States. The official held a rather low opinion of the intelligence of these Irish, and patronizingly instructed the young priest to fill out a certain form and then to “put your John Henry right here.” Father complied with a twinkle in his eye and signed: “John Henry.” The official stuttered and backtracked and explained that he had meant, “Sign your own name.” Father John Henry finally convinced him he had understood him perfectly well the first time. Father Henry certainly enjoyed America, its participatory democracy as well as its more tangible privileges. He served on the county welfare board and the Wyoming State Bond Committee. He became a charter member of the Torrington Rotary Club, a Boy Scout Committeeman, and a 4-H leader. In 1935 he became a naturalized U.S. citizen. Though he was a frugal husbander of the orphanage’s products and knew how to make every resource count, he could not resist on one occasion, “putting on the dog” — in this case, “the hog.” Planning a dinner party at St. Joseph’s for the Board of Directors, he ordered a suckling pig prepared in town, roasted with an apple in its mouth. He didn’t quite trust the [37] sisters to manage such exotic cuisine; in fact, he gave them strict instructions to serve the pig “as is.” Nevertheless, the sisters cut off the head before they brought the pig in. A VARIED DUCATIONAL MENU Father Henry became an expert in the breeding of Hampshire sheep and the 93-acre farm on which the orphanage sat supported a fine herd of registered Holstein cattle. Father Henry gave demonstrations in blocking Hampshire sheep. The children won many ribbons at county and state fairs with their prize livestock and vegetables, and Father Henry proudly displayed the ribbons in his office. [38] The older boys became skilled at operating the farm machinery, and many developed into competent stockmen and farmers, preparing themselves for future jobs even as they contributed to St. Joseph’s daily needs. The children learned their basic three R’s in the Torrington public schools, and the Sisters of St. Francis added music and drama to their educational menus by cooking up many programs for the local Torrington people and for visitors. Each year the Christmas program became a more popular feature in town. By 1932, the event was Standing Room Only. The children were costumed; scenery was built; the songs, drills, pageants and plays were rehearsed to perfection. A glowing report in the Torrington paper summarized the effect the 1932 program had had on the reporter: “This was one of those rare Christmas programs which the audience finds well worth attending for its own merits alone.” Father Henry, not to be outdone by the sisters in providing cultural enrichment for the children, taught himself to play the accordion and to ventriloquize in order to amuse — and amaze — his charges. Perhaps these efforts to fill the children’s needs for fun as well as fatherly guidance explain in part the dilemma he soon faced: He could no longer eat with the children in the dining rooms, because riot broke out upon his appearance as the children fought for the coveted places at his side. Father Henry once baptized a number of small children, and was hard pressed to carry out the ritual in the customary solemn manner. As he touched the grains of salt to one child’s lips, the child’s clear voice rang out, ‘T want some more of that stuff.” Father proceeded to the symbolic breathing upon each child, but when he got to Billy, Billy grabbed him around the neck as he leaned over and gave him a big hug and a kiss. Father Henry must have felt deeply the pain St. Joseph’s children had endured in their young lives because of the loss of a mother or a father or both. In a Father’s Day sermon in 1943, he expressed his own reverence for the family and at the same time revealed the ideals by which he lived as foster father to the children in his care: The Angels were discussing what was the most beautiful thing on earth. One said this and another that and so on, so they finally decided to send a special messenger to earth to find and bring back what he considered the most beautiful thing he could find. After much searching he decided that the rose was the most beautiful thing, so back to heaven he goes, bringing one with him. The Angels gathered around, and after examining it they agreed that it was indeed beautiful. But in a short time it withered and died, so they said that it could not be the most beautiful thing. [39] So back to earth the Angel was sent a second time and again he searched from pole to pole. Finally he decided that the innocent smile of childhood was the most beautiful thing on earth. Back to heaven he went to tell the angels of the beautiful thing that he had found, but before he finished his description he was reminded by the others that the smile of childhood did not live for long, that the cares and toils of the world too soon changed it. And so back to earth he was sent a third time. This time he decided to spend more time in his search. At length he found what he was looking for and hastened back to Heaven. The Angels gathered around him and to them he told of a mother’s love for her loved ones and a father’s devotion to his family. He told of the mother going down to very gates of death to bring a new life into the world, how she tended the new born child, how she watched by its cradle in sickness and in health, how she rejoiced when she was able to have it lisp the sweetest of all names, the names of Jesus and Mary, how she rejoiced with her child in gladness and wept with in sadness, how she cooled the feverish brow in illness, how, in a word, she sacrificed everything, even health, in the interest of her loved one. And then he told of a father’s self-sacrificing labor for his wife and children, how he left the comfort of the home to go out into [40] the world to make a living for them, how his manly heart was wrung with anguish for the safety of his spouse when his children were being born, how he went without things that he needed so that his loved ones could have them. And the Angels decided that the sweetest and most enduring things in the world were a mother’s love for her loved ones and the noblest thing a father’s self-sacrificing toil for his family. TORRINGTON WELCOMES ST. JOSEPH’S From the very first, many church and civic organizations took an interest in the children’s well being, and besides giving material provisions of foodstuffs, clothing and toys, hosted many parties, shows, and outings for the children. Often these generous people provided the little extra excitement and treats that the sisters and priests were unable to afford, and which made childhood, especially around the holidays, memorable for these homeless children. Catholicism was still mistrusted and feared by many in the ‘20’s and ‘30’ s, and there was not a large Catholic population in Torrington when the orphanage was built. The tiny Catholic church of St. Rose held only 50 people, but the one mass each Sunday found it more empty than full. Father Henry and Father O’Connor, the pastor of St. Rose parish (the pastor of St. Rose lived at St. Joseph’s until 1940 when St. Rose Rectory was built), would don their clerical clothes and walk up and down the main street on Saturday night just to show the community what priests looked like. Yet as the sisters and Father Henry went about their work of rearing the children entrusted to them, they made such a favorable impression on the people of Torrington that they were soon loved and welcomed by all. The orphanage gave much to Torrington and to Gosh en County, from the excellent and popular Christmas programs, to the 4-H honors brought back from state fairs and the Denver stock show, to the active participation of a vigorous, articulate superintendent in community projects of all kinds. Torrington responded by supporting St. Joseph’s in many ways, beginning with the excellent cooperation of the school system in educating the thousands of children who have lived at St. Joseph’s. Torrington groups have included St. Joseph’s children in boy scouts, girl scouts, campfire girls, and 4-H. And Torrington’s citizens have befriended countless children, hired them for odd jobs, included them in holiday plans, and helped them to believe that the world beyond St. Joseph’s would be a friendly and hospitable place. One night in 1932, as Doctor F.S. Brown and his wife were returning from Cheyenne to their Torrington home in the early morning hours, they heard strange noises and discovered a basket on their front porch with twin, week old baby boys in it. The couple brought the babies to Father Henry the next morning, and he accepted them into St. Joseph’s. [41] The next edition of the local paper proclaimed, “Reverend Mother has twins”! The poignant story gained the interest and sympathy of the entire community, helping to overcome the initial skepticism with which some had greeted the Catholic institution. Many people clamored to adopt the children immediately, but Father Henry believed that dire financial necessity had caused their abandonment and he waited to give the natural parents a chance to return to claim them. Only after several years, when the parents still hadn’t returned, were the boys adopted by a Cheyenne family. Mrs. John McDonald, wife of one of the original board members of St. Joseph’s, remembers a couple of the boys who would come and do yard work or run errands. They were always grateful for a cup of hot chocolate after a snow shoveling session or a cool drink in the summer after mowing the lawn. She recalls, too, substituting occasionally for Sister Immett in the preschool nursery, so that the nun could get away to shop. The little children would swarm all over her. She asked Father Henry why they all wanted to sit on her lap; he explained that to the little children, sitting on her lap meant security. Who were the children who were left with St. Joseph’s in those early years? Most were, even then, not true orphans; some had lost one parent and the other had been unable to care for them and support them. Many came from homes broken by divorce, separation, or abandonment. They ranged from newborn babies to high schoolers. In those days, even little babies and toddlers, who today would be placed in temporary foster homes or adopted, were left in orphanages. HARD TIMES FOR ALL In 1931 financial conditions made St. Joseph’s alter its policy to ask at least a nominal payment from the county or agency responsible for the child. Yet in 1932 of 32 children at the orphanage only 13 were supported even partially by the counties, the parents, or the Bureau of Indian Affairs. The burden of supporting St. Joseph’s continued to fall mainly on the shoulders of generous donors from all over Wyoming. In 1932 Bishop McGovern appointed Father Albert Knier as assistant superintendent of St. Joseph’s, giving him the assignment of “beggar” for the institution. Every Sunday throughout the fall and spring months Father Knier, and later successors in this assignment, found themselves in one or another Wyoming parish, telling the people of the need, sharing stories about the children, and begging for money. Father Henry also sent out periodic letters to faithful supporters to keep them in touch with the work they helped sponsor and to ask for further contributions. One such letter gives a succinct appraisal of the needs of St. Joseph’s in those depression years. The adverse business conditions affect St. Joseph’s in two ways; “when our income decreases, our enrollment increases,” he wrote. Though the main building was debt free when it opened in 1930, the institution spent quite a bit of money in the first two years to add farm and outbuildings, pavement and sidewalks. In 1932, for example, St. Joseph’s erected an iron fence in front of the main building at a cost of $3,400. In addition, Father Henry, saying that the main building resembled a penitentiary, petitioned the bishop for permission to purchase and plant trees and shrubs on the grounds to soften the visual impression the orphanage made. The bishop agreed, but cautioned that it was Father Henry’s grave responsibility to see that the trees and shrubs survived. In the first year the seedlings needed almost constant watering through the hot July days. One evening, Father Henry, exhausted from a busy day, lay down by one of the trees to rest a moment while the hose soaked the tree, and did not wake up until the next morning. All these necessary expenditures put St. Joseph’s deeply in debt. But, slowly and painstakingly, the orphanage climbed out of debt through the charity of its benefactors and careful budgeting by Father Henry and the sisters. Father Henry, hoping to improve his abilities to care for his many charges, studied social work at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. during the winter of 1933-34, but came home at the end of the year, saying that the instruction was so impractical that if he [43] had tried to operate the orphanage under such theories it soon would be bankrupt. At last in 1934 the orphanage began to rise out of the financial depths and to move forward on an even course. However, in 1935 Bishop McGovern began planning a chapel to be added to St. Joseph’s, and again the institution plunged into debt. THE CHAPEL IS BUILT Ornamental plasterwork adds dignity to the chapel with its vaulted ceiling, notably a medallion design of Christ embracing two small children. On the exterior, terra-cotta medallions depicting cherubic children encircle the upper walls above the brickwork, and the chapel tower is adorned by a crucifixion scene. The light interior walls accent the rich woodwork of wainscoting, railings, pews, altar and canopy with a vivid blue ceiling. The altar was beautifully hand carved in Italy. Stained glass windows portray many saints in brilliant colors. It is easy to understand that at the time it was built, St. Joseph’s chapel was considered by many to be the most beautiful church in the diocese. The dedication of the chapel on June 17, 1936, was again an impressive gathering of clergy, the largest ever in Wyoming up to that time, with eight bishops assisting. A solemn high mass in the new chapel followed the dedicatory service, and Bishop McGovern preached at both. The children of the orphanage choir, directed by Sister Mary Veronica, sang the high mass. The debts St. Joseph’s incurred to the diocese and to St. Joseph’s parish in Rawlins for the construction of the chapel-auditorium addition were heavy, and in the depression years it was very difficult to save money from the diminished donations to retire the chapel debt. Yet every year the debt was reduced, and by 1944 only $10,000 remained to be repaid. By 1940 the orphanage sheltered about 70 children between the ages of [45] two and fourteen. Two years later, due to the increased strain the war put on families, eighty children made St. Joseph’s their home, and there was a waiting list of two dozen. Gardening, with the help of the older children, reaped such a harvest that the fall canning of vegetables and fruits assumed the aspects of a major campaign. Thousands of jars of produce were put up by the sisters and one or two additional cooks. Sister Ferdinanda, the kitchen supervisor, put in eighteen hours a day canning, baking, and churning. Later Sister Dominic took over the never-ending task of keeping the little mouths fed. The dairy cows produced about thirty-two gallons of milk a day, enough to satisfy the children’s thirst and still to allow an excess for sale to provide cash for other needs. By 1940 the lone-sunflower-in-a-field effect had disappeared. Shade trees and evergreens softened the landscape and grass lawns and cement walkways covered the grounds around the home. Several wells provided ample water for lawns and crops. The Franciscan Sisters who had served St. Joseph’s children faithfully for five years were called home in 1935 to fill pressing needs closer to the Mother House in New York. The Sisters of Humility of Great Falls agreed to fill in temporarily until another order could promise a permanent staff. Four years later, after much searching by Bishop McGovern, the Sisters of St. Francis of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, agreed to take over the care of the children. Sisters of this order, which is dedicated to the care of children and of the sick and handicapped, have distinguished themselves by their devotion and loving care to St. Joseph’s children from their arrival in September, 1940, to the present time. Today, St. Joseph’s has a staff of twenty professional childcare persons, as well as a priest-superintendent, three sisters, and a maintenance and domestic staff of eight to care for 40 to 45 children. But in the ‘30’s, ‘40’s, ‘50’s and ‘60’s, up to 80 children were cared for by only one or two priests and eight or nine sisters, helped only by one or two women in the kitchen and one or two men to supervise the farm and buildings. The sisters did all the cooking and laundry, cleaned the building, shopped for the children’s clothes, and each cared for as many as thirty children. There were no days off, no overtime pay, and initially no salary — the early plan for the orphanage stated that “the orphanage will be placed in the charge of Catholic sisters, who will care for their wards without pay, thereby insuring the most economical management.” Even when they finally received a salary, it was something like $35.00 a month, paid to the Mother Superior of the order, not to the individual sister. Even at 1942 prices, what a bargain! Why did they do it? Why, even today, do some few dedicated women give their entire lives [46] to the care of these homeless children? Perhaps a Russian proverb applies as well to these women as to mothers: “You can not pay anyone to do what a mother will do for free.” Father Albert Knier, first assistant superintendent at St. Joseph’s, was succeeded in 1937 by Father Daniel Carroll, who served at St. Joseph’s only one year, and was followed by Father Francis Penny. Father Penny was in Newcastle when he received the phone call from Bishop McGovern offering him the position of assistant superintendent at St. Joseph’s. Because of the long periods of traveling, it was not a coveted position, but Father Penny agreed to come. “The surprising element was that the Bishop phoned me. Generally his notifications were sent by the old penny postal card!” FATHER PENNY REMEMBERS “Father John Henry, who was then superintendent of the orphanage, was fond of telling the story of Father Dan Daugherty. Father Dan, who came to this country from Ireland because of his health, was resting at the orphanage. He had one failing that irritated Father Henry. We had a huge sow in the pig shed. Father Dan discovered quite by accident that if a chicken got into the sow’s pen it took only two big bites by the sow and the chicken was just a fond memory. Father Dan was so enchanted by this phenomenon that he loved to catch chickens and throw them into the sow’s pen. When I arrived at the orphanage we still had the sow, but Father Dan was gone. “At one time we had a Hampshire boar that had never been de-tusked. With his huge tusks he was a truly dangerous animal. We did have to change boars from time to time so that our stock would not become inbred, so Father Henry decided to sell the boar. Our pig shed was a long building with an aisle through the center with pens on either side. We had the pickup backed up to one of the doors with a loading chute leading up into the pickup. We also had an electric prod-pole to help load animals, so we anticipated no trouble. We got the boar as far as the loading chute when he decided that he liked it better in the pig shed. We were determined that he would climb into the pickup. Then the boar lost his temper, if that can be said of animals. The result was that the boar took control and had all of us — Father Henry, Al the hired man, and myself — penned in various parts of the shed. Father Henry shouted to me to get my rifle, if I could get out of the shed. Al distracted the boar and I got out. I returned with a .22 caliber rifle and my set of butchering knives. I tossed Al the knives and I loaded my single shot .22, which I always used in butchering large animals. I got into the aisle and the boar turned toward me. I took good aim at the center of his forehead and fired. [47] Al, who was in an adjoining pen, immediately jumped over the enclosure onto the boar’s back. He had one of my knives and intended to cut the boar’s throat. However the boar did not go down and Al made one frantic leap back into his pen. In the meantime I had reloaded my rifle and as the boar was stunned by my first bullet he stood perfectly still and I took a more careful aim and downed it with my second shot. So the boar ended up becoming sausage for the house. “We also had about a hundred head of registered sheep. We sold lambs for roughly $100 a head, which was a pretty good price in those days. We also had a cat who had nine kittens. The kittens were a pampered lot and the old mother cat would still catch mice for them after they were full-grown. We generally lambed in the spring in one of the sheds which we could heat. Monsignor George Stoll recalled also that the orphanage could not afford to lose any lambs, so Father Henry would spend the two weeks of lambing season sleeping in an adjoining pen in the lambing shed, ready to assist the Hampshire ewes during the sometimes difficult births of their large-headed lambs.] One night we lambed a couple of ram lambs and, being very tired, went to bed and slept soundly. The next morning Father Henry discovered that the younger cats had killed and partially eaten two of the newly born lambs, which meant a loss to the orphanage of about $200. So again I had to get my rifle and in about an hour’s time I had nine dead young cats. The old mother cat I spared as she was an excellent mouser. “When I went to the orphanage we had an old 1932 Ford, which I used to get around the diocese to collect funds. Late one evening as I was [48] driving between Hudson and Lander a small bunch of horses suddenly appeared in the middle of the road ahead of me. At the same time my lights went out! Immediately I swerved to one side and did avoid hitting any of the horses. Then I just crept into Lander. The next day I had some temporary repairs done on the lighting system, but when I got back to Torrington I told Father Henry about it. He didn’t say anything, but the next morning at breakfast he said to me, T think you had better go into town this morning and buy a new car.’ Father Henry could not drive a car and never did learn, so he placed the burden of buying the best new car within a reasonable price range on me. So I purchased a new Dodge sedan for the orphanage that morning, after considerable shopping around. We were still using that car when I left the orphanage on January 14, 1944. “Just as Father Henry could not drive a car, so he could not drive a tractor. In our farm work we had a beautifully matched team of horses for plowing and other work. All our hay was cut and put up with this team which weighed about 1400 pounds each. Then one spring one of the horses became sick and died. Father Henry was disconsolate. He would go down to the barn and look at the remaining horse and then slowly go to do something else. We drove around Goshen County and into western Nebraska looking for another horse to match the one we had, or another matched team. Nothing we saw pleased Father Henry, so again one morning at breakfast he told me, ‘Go into town this morning and buy a small tractor.’ So I made the rounds of the farm implement dealers and finally came up with a Farmall tractor, which the dealer sold to us at a very favorable price of $500. That was how the orphanage acquired its first tractor. There was an additional bonus to our purchase of the tractor: There was a small refinery south of town and one day shortly after we had purchased the tractor the owner of the refinery came in and told us that he had placed two barrels on a rack back of the boiler house and that he would keep them full of gas for our new tractor and our car. “I was always fond of taking photographs. So Father Henry and I purchased an Eastman Kodak special camera, which was made in Germany and had a fine f-2 lens. We also bought a crude contraption which we could fasten to the camera to fire the new flashbulb. We used this camera — I should say that I used it, for although Father Henry owned half of it I cannot remember him using it. With the camera I made a set of color slides which I would show to Kiwanis Clubs, Lion Clubs, Rotary Clubs or anyone else who would sit to look and listen as I told the story of St. Joseph’s children, their activities, and the physical aspects of St. Joseph’s Orphanage. I also took black and white photos of the lambs we had for sale and wrote the name of each lamb ram on the [49] photo. Armed with an album of pictures I would sell the ram lambs to various sheepmen round the State. We also use the camera for 4-H activities, sports, and so on. One time I took a series of black and white photos at a local rodeo. Black and white film I would develop and print in my bathroom and sometimes some of the boys would help me. So I was doing this with the rodeo pictures. I had developed the film and put it in the washer tank and handed it to one of the boys and told him to wash it. He did! When I took the film out of the tank it was perfectly clear. He had washed all the emulsion off in hot water! Those were the days!” MONSIGNOR GEORGE STOLL Young Seminarian Stoll’s duty at the orphanage was to help the sisters oversee the children. In the mornings, he helped them with their chores or took a crew down to the garden to weed or harvest. He recalls that there were three problems to solve in supervising garden work: One, [50] to keep the children working. Two, to keep them from weeding the vegetables along with the weeds. Three, to keep them from tearing the entire plant when they picked the pea pod or bean. The sheep were used as living lawn mowers to keep the front lawn cropped. This economical method resulted in some very irregular patches in the lawn. The boys were assigned to watch the sheep, and young Stoll was assigned to watch the boys, lest the sheep be allowed to wander into the alfalfa or fall in the irrigation ditch and drown. In the afternoons, he would take the whole group out to the swimming hole to cool off. In those early days, it really was a swimming hole: a pit dug south of the pigpen, then flooded with irrigation water. Alter two or three days of being used for swimming, the water would be drained off to irrigate the lower pasture, following the principle of “waste not, want not.” The “hole” quickly became muddied by the children’s joyful splashing, so Lifeguard Stoll would blow the whistle every five minutes and have a nose count. Each child had a buddy, whom he had to locate at each check. Then the lifeguard would count pairs and give the go-ahead for more fun. When swimming time was over, the muddy children would reluctantly troop through the barn, where a makeshift shower, a bucket drilled full of holes, rinsed off the dirt in icy water. Then there was a quiet game or two, evening chores, and bedtime for children and for an exhausted young seminarian. For his two-month stint as life-guard-gardener-foster-big-brother, young Stoll was paid $50 that year. But then the train fare from Torrington to Milwaukee was only $10. [51] Father Henry had adopted a strategy for coping with the tight financial situation and the lack of donations in the summer, when the assistant superintendent stayed home to help with the children and the farm work. He would plan the collection tours so that the collector made his last appeal in the largest parish, St. Mary’s in Cheyenne, on the first Sunday in June. That large collection tided the orphanage over until fall. Then the first appeal in September went to St. Anthony’s parish in Casper, bringing in a large donation to pay August’s expenses and outfit the children for school. The first time a collection topped $1,000 at St. Anthony’s in Casper, Father Penny called Father Henry long distance with the good news and Father Henry and the children offered a special Mass of celebration. THE GREATEST LOSS Seminarian Stoll returned to the orphanage in the summer of 1943 to find Father Henry quite ill and Father Penny temporarily in charge. On the eve of Father Henry’s first exploratory surgery, the Cheyenne police delivered three children to St. Joseph’s for protective custody. Their father had gone berserk, killed his second wife and threatened to come to Cheyenne to kill his first wife and the three children. Father Penny could not find the keys to lock the orphanage, so the children spent the night in the infirmary on the third floor, the only dormitory which could be locked, while the young lifeguard slept in an adjoining room as guard. Next morning a nervous Father Penny, deputized to enable him to defend the children if need be, offered mass for the success of Father Henry’s surgery with a pistol under his vestments. The murderous father did not appear, but the news of Father Henry’s serious illness soon eclipsed the episode in the minds of St. Joseph’s staff. A series of operations brought Father only temporary relief. ‘Nonetheless, Father was up and around, operating the orphanage with [52] a calm efficiency and bearing up under great pain with almost stoic indifference,” said Monsignor John Meyer, in The Look Back. At times he cancer caused Father Henry to be confined to bed, and the superior of he sisters at St. Joseph’s, Sister Arcadia, nursed him with great care and gentleness. Finally, in March 1944, through the financial help of a non-catholic friend, Torringtonite Alvin Bloedorn, Father Henry traveled to the Leahy Clinic in Maiden, Massachusetts, for a last operation. Two months later, at the age of 43, “he gave his great soul to God, the busy lands lie silent on his breast, and the great manly body is at rest,” mourned Monsignor Thomas O’Reilly, his seminary classmate in Barlow, Ireland, and dearest friend, in his funeral sermon. Sister Arcadia wrote to T. Joe Cahill in the next month: “I just can’t get over the death of our dear Father Henry. It seems impossible. There isn’t a place on the grounds that we haven’t a mental picture of him or that we don’t think we have to see him coming along in his tan working clothes.” Monsignor Stoll calls him “one of the greatest men I’ve ever met. He had a great sincerity and gentleness with the children.” Monsignor Frederick Kimmett said of him, “I don’t think I have ever met a man who was more priestly. Of all the priests in the diocese, no one had a greater chance of being Bishop.” Monsignor Meyer adds, “What a magnificent Bishop he would have made.” And Bishop McGovern, sparing of praise but keen in his assessment of men, told the funeral congregation, “In this diocese, since its establishment fifty-seven years ago, I do not hesitate to say that in the passing of Father Henry it has suffered the greatest loss in its history.” Father Leo Morgan and T. Joe Cahill [53] Father Henry, like many an Irish-born priest before and since, had given Ireland’s best to Wyoming and to St. Joseph’s. Now it was the turn of a Wyomingite born and bred to pour himself out in service to St. Joseph’s children. Father Leo B. Morgan, the first native son to be ordained a priest for the Diocese of Cheyenne, by Bishop McGovern in 1933, was assigned to St. Joseph’s Orphanage in June, 1944, to takeover he superintendent’s job left sadly vacant by Father Henry’s death. Father Morgan, born in Laramie and educated for the priesthood at St. Benedict’s College in Atchison, Kansas, and at St. Thomas Seminary in Denver, came to Torrington after eight years as pastor of Sacred Heart Parish in Greybull. Father Morgan was in some ways a contrast to Father Henry. He knew little about agriculture or husbandry and was content to let others, like young Father John Meyer, the new assistant at St. Joseph’s, assist the farm boss and older boys with farm chores. But he was more of a financial wizard than Father Henry. He had retired the $25,000 debt on the new church he had built in Greybull in only three years, and he retired the remaining debt St. Joseph’s owed to the diocese in the first year of his superintendency. His years at St. Joseph’s saw the steady building up of St. Joseph’s cash reserves, even while several additions were made to St. Joseph’s buildings. He administered the orphanage on a tight budget, and accounted for every penny. The young assistants who took the collecting trips around the diocese jokingly complained that if they blew a tire and had to buy a new one, Father Morgan also “blew up.” For all the local bills for the orphanage — the gas bill, grocery bill, electric bill, and so on — he would write out the checks and then hand them to his assistant superintendent to be hand delivered around town to save on postage. Father Morgan was well liked, both by his fellow priests and by the townspeople of Torrington, and he enjoyed walking down the street, calling a greeting to an acquaintance, joking with friends he met. He performed his priestly rituals with flamboyance and drama. His sermons occasionally featured pounding fists for emphasis. Sometimes he would say things he didn’t mean, caught up in the excitement of the moment, but his friends knew when to disregard his words. For example, Monsignor Kimmett tells of a time when he was pastor at St. Barbara’s in Powell, and a family of eight or nine was orphaned by the death, first of the father and then of the mother. Monsignor Kimmett called up Father Morgan and told him he was bringing the children down. “Oh, no you’re not!” declared the overburdened father of seventy [54] children. Monsignor Kimmett replied, “That’s what that institution is for, to take care of orphaned children. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When he arrived Father Morgan threw up his hands in defeat and welcomed the children. Father Morgan was more likely to work behind the scenes to write, produce, and direct the gala Christmas programs in which the children entertained the townspeople than to entertain the children himself on the accordion. Father Morgan insisted that every child participate in the Christmas program, for which he created new skits and tableaux each year. Sister Jude, a tiny but dynamic woman, was in charge of the children’s dramatic and musical endeavors. She had a great respect for Father Morgan, as both her spiritual and dramatic director. Rehearsal For the program and for midnight mass music began November first, and she always threatened the children that if they didn’t get it perfect, they just wouldn’t perform. But always by Christmas the performances were perfect. The auditorium was always packed for the Christmas program. One year a live nativity scene was presented with one very small boy as the Christ child. Each tot was supposed to come up and kiss the baby, but when “Dennis” came up, he started a fight with him instead. Father Morgan reached out from behind the curtain to grab him, but on the first try he grabbed the wrong child. By the time peace had been restored to Bethlehem, the audience was rolling in the aisles with laughter. Quite a few townspeople attended midnight mass at the orphanage on [55] Christmas, too. Father Etchingham remembers one Christmas when Father Morgan invited him to say the mass. Then Father Morgan donned the cope, a large cape, and swooped up and down the aisle as usher, greeting and seating his many friends. Sister Andrea, who served at St. Joseph’s from 1950 to 1962 with Father Morgan, remembers that, like fathers everywhere, he handled the major discipline. Bill Clarke, who lived at St. Joseph’s from 1950 to 1964, recalls an occasional spanking, but the more usual discipline Father enforced involved writing 100 or 500 times, “I will not . . .” By some happy coincidence, Father Morgan’s term as superintendent coincided with the years of most active involvement in St. Joseph’s of its greatest benefactor, T. Joe Cahill. If ever there was a financial wizard, he was the man! If ever there was a fatherly figure working behind the scenes to arrange happy times for the children, he was the man! The two men, Morgan and Cahill, worked beautifully together, and the result was a shower of good things for St. Joseph’s: financial assistance, memorable outings, great good will generated toward St. Joseph’s in many Wyoming communities. T. Joe Cahill died fifteen years ago, and perhaps many people do not recognize his name today. Yet, as Bishop Newell said at his funeral in 1965, “Wherever its [St. Joseph’s] story is told in the future decades or even a century from now, the name of T. Joe Cahill will be mentioned with reverence and love, the children who have benefited through his [56] generosity will sing his praises to God and man.” So it is appropriate here to tell his story, the story of “Mr. Wyoming.” Born in 1887 in Camp Carlin, Wyoming Territory, son of immigrant Irish parents, Cahill was called T. Joe to distinguish him from his father, Thomas Joseph, Sr. Leaving school after the eighth grade he worked at various jobs. He injured his leg in a railroad accidental 17 and spent seven months in the hospital. Even then his typical positive outlook was evident: “That’s when I learned how important it is to visit the sick,” he said. At 19, when the first Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo was organized, T. Joe was program boy. His powerful voice and engaging personality earned him the job of first rodeo announcer for Frontier Days. While he established the very successful Capitol Coal Company of Cheyenne, he worked without pay for Frontier Days for thirty years, announcing and then promoting Wyoming’s “Daddy of ‘em All,” and he became known as “Mr. Wyoming,” unofficial ambassador of the west. For five years he helped to stage annual rodeos in Madison Square Garden in New York City. Another of T. Joe’s claims to fame was witnessing the hanging of Tom Horn, notorious outlaw and hired gun, who was convicted of murder in the shooting of a young boy. Horn and Cahill had been boyhood friends, and T. Joe helped arrest him in a Cheyenne hotel. When his death sentence was handed down, Horn asked T. Joe to stand by him at his execution on November 20, 1903, and T. Joe complied. An inveterate collector, T. Joe kept the rope; part of it is in the Diocesan Museum. T. Joe served as Police Chief of Cheyenne from 1934 to 1940, and went on to operate Cheyenne’s new police radio from 1940 til his retirement in 1944. A family man as well, T. Joe and his wife, Susan Brady Cahill, had two sons and two daughters. T. Joe’s philosophy was a simple one. “You don’t have to do big things to make people happy; it’s the little things you do for people that touch the heart.” One “little thing” he did was to send up to 10,000 birthday cards a year to his many friends and acquaintances. The message inside each one: “Do a good turn today: you may not be here tomorrow.” Hundreds of return cards and acknowledgements from celebrities, political leaders, and grateful friends attest to the hearts he touched. He had a phenomenal memory for people, spurred, perhaps, by his sincere interest in each person he met. Never one to come into a crowded room and dominate it, he drew his occupants to him by his way of half smiling as he really listened to each person’s story. For all his friendliness and active charity, he was not a publicity seeker. He was an unassuming, down-to-earth man, with a quiet, occasionally earthy sense of humor, persistent when his cause was the welfare of orphans, and orderly when it came to remembering birthdays and donations. He [57] always remembered to say “Thanks” and dared to say, “Give again.” Bishop Newell said of him, “He spoke quietly, but he spoke.” T. Joe had helped Bishop McGovern acquire the land upon which St. Joseph’s was built in 1929, but it was the death in 1932 of his youngest son, Joseph, which moved him to devote more and more time to St. Joseph’s Orphanage. What might have turned another man bitter turned T. Joe towards others. Gradually, the orphanage became his main interest in life. T. Joe began a personal campaign to solicit funds for St. Joseph’s among his many friends. He would approach people in person on the streets of Cheyenne or wherever his travels took him. His greeting to friends was often, “What are we going to get from you this year?” His delighted friends would mockingly guard their wallets when he came in. He wrote friends from other parts of the country, explaining the good work of St. Joseph’s and begging for a donation. He solicited corporations, too, and many gave sizeable donations. Almost every month he would send a sizeable check to St. Joseph’s along with a page or two of names of donors he had contacted personally. He kept careful records, too, and would send out little reminders to the lapsed giver: “Dear Friends, missed your usual kindly donation to St. Joseph’s [58] Orphanage. Hope you will again be on our list of good boosters.” They were hand typed and personally signed, too. T. Joe set up little collection boxes in stores and hotels all over the state, and personally oversaw collections from them. Christmas was his special time. He had stationery printed with images of a bright eyed tot holding a Christmas package, the St. Joseph’s building, and himself, holding a chisel, a symbol of his persistent prodding. The caption read, “T. Joe and his chisel at work.” A poignant text painted the picture of small orphans enjoying a little brighter [59] Christmas because of the recipient’s generous donation. His motto, “Do a good turn today: you may not be here tomorrow” was printed at the bottom. After one “Christmas chisel,” Father John Meyer, assistant at St. Joseph’s, impressed with the generous results, wrote to T. Joe, “You must have substituted a length of lead pipe for the chisel. What junk yard do you patronize?” While the letters were going out and the donations were coming in, T. Joe would begin the rounds of his friends and neighbors and local businesses, begging for toys, clothes, party makings for his annual Christmas party for the children. His large front porch in Cheyenne would soon be filled with goodies, and one December day he would bundle them all up and head out for Torrington. There, the children would stage their locally famous Christmas musical and dramatic extravaganza for him, and then he would respond with his gifts and treats. The children would look forward to his visit more than to the visit of any less tangible Father Christmas. In the summer his eager charity organized the annual Frontier Days trip. Again for weeks he would solicit lunch fixings from local businesses, then set up tables at the Plains Hotel for the 80 or 90 children. He would send a bus up to Torrington to bring the children down and then they would be his guests at lunch and off to the Frontier Days Rodeo! Who would have thought Santa could come twice a year! In 1948, for his work for St. Joseph’s Orphanage, T. Joe Cahill received from Bishop McGovern the papal brief appointing him a Knight of St. Gregory. Each birthday, as he grew older, his friends honored him with parties and testimonials to his kindness and charity. In 1953, the T. Joe Cahill Foundation was established in tribute to T. Joe, as a supporting foundation for St. Joseph’s Orphanage. That same year, in gratitude for his unremitting service, St. Joseph’s Orphanage unveiled and dedicated the T. Joe Cahill Memorial, a granite shaft with bronze plaques depicting T. Joe holding a little child and showing his famous motto. The plaques were later moved to the wall of the entry to St. Joseph’s, where they now can be seen. T. Joe, in accepting the honor, responded with a $5,000 check to St. Joseph’s, which he had received at a testimonial dinner given for him in Cheyenne earlier that year. In 1958, when John McDonald, one of the two first lay trustees of St. Joseph’s, died after 34 years of service on the Board, T. Joe was named a trustee of the institution he had been guiding unofficially for years. T. Joe Cahill lived for 87 active and exciting years. At 86, he could still be found in the middle of a crowd of excited youngsters waiting on the steps of St. Mary’s Cathedral for the Frontier Days Parade to pass by. Finally, a chronic asthma condition worsened and, on February 13, 1965, T. Joe Cahill — Mr. Wyoming, the man with a million friends — [60] died. Among many evaluations of the meaning of this unusual man’s life, one of the simplest and yet probably one of the best is Monsignor Kimmett’s concise description, “He was a real Christian gentleman.” Yes, Father Leo Morgan and T. Joe Cahill were the two captains whose care and hard work went into keeping St. Joseph’s Orphanage afloat and on course for the 20 years from 1944 to 1964. What of their crew and cargo? MONSIGNOR MEYER LOOKS BACK “Helping along” certainly covered a variety of duties. Monsignor Meyer recalls working with the children in the 4-H garden one summer. The orphanage had been given some khaki shorts of various sizes, but the boys refused to wear them — they thought them too sissy. So good sport Father Meyer asked Sister Marina for a pair to fit him. She gave him the largest pair and they fit well. Pretty soon all the boys had shorts on and out to the garden they went, where they worked all day in the hot sun, bent over. That night Father Meyer discovered he had a first class case of sunburn on his legs. “The boys wore khakis the rest of the summer but I can’t say that I put ‘em on again.” Father Meyer led the first Boy Scout troop St. Joseph’s ever had. When the scouts went up to Laramie Peak for campouts, he would offer mass for the Catholic troop. In due time, he was asked to conduct services for the Methodist and Presbyterian troops, too. [61] Often, ranchers from around the area would give St. Joseph’s hay. Father Meyer would select four or five older boys and girls to load hay and out they’d go on a big truck. One day they had stacked up a load, started back, and they came to make a turn. “The hay overturned with four or five kids underneath. Children literally sprang out of the hay and everything turned out all right.” They had to reload the hay, and by the time they got back to St. Joseph’s, seven or eight hours later, they found the sisters and Father Morgan quite worried. The “chore boys” were a special group of older boys whose duties were to feed the dairy cows and milk them morning and evening. They were very proud of their job and their special status, for they ate in a separate lining room and “no one could match them for the amount of food they could eat or the speed with which they could eat it.” After finishing their portions, they would knock on the priests’ dining room door to ask if there were any extras to be taken up to their rooms for later. Once, Monsignor Meyer recalls, one of these older boys wanted to emulate the hired man, Jess Miller, and chew tobacco. Jess gave him some, but told him that if he wanted to chew he would have to chew like a man, spitting as little as possible. So the boy was up on top of a hayrack, spreading hay, chewing without spitting, in a gentle breeze. “I looked up and thought, my, that wind must be blowing up a storm, he’s sure weaving back and forth. He had chewed too long without spitting . . . we had a very white faced boy. He got better but I noticed he never asked for another chew.” Surely the strangest of all duties an assistant at St. Joseph’s ever had to perform was the one known as the “pigs and a priest in a sewer caper.” Monsignor Meyer tells it best: “One day Jess announced that the four hogs being fattened were just plain gone. The fence was tight but the hogs were no place to be found. We wondered and waited. Two days later they reappeared. Then they left and didn’t come back. Jess and I went down to the hog pen. Corn was in the feed trough, but no hogs were there to eat. We noticed a large 30-inch storm sewer that emptied into the pen. Water from a potato cellar along the railroad tracks trickled out. We checked the outlet and about that time a freight train came along. We listened and sure enough we could hear the hogs squealing discontent with the shaking caused by the train. They were in the storm sewer east of the orphanage and the tracks. “We got the city manager. Red Applegate, a long time friend of St. Joseph’s. He produced a map of the sewer system. We went to an intersection on the east side of town and pried open a manhole cover. About that time another freight went by and below in the sewer we could see four Chester white hogs hurrying by the man-hole entry which sat about four inches below the sewer tile bed. They definitely were not following Horace Greeley’s advice of going west. They went east, further [62] away from their corn trough. They were thoroughly spooked. “We consulted the map. In two more blocks the 30-inch main would reduce to 24. We went the two blocks, pried open the manhole lid and Jess went down with a power-type flashlight. He began to crawl westward chasing the hogs back to their pen. Red and I went a block west, opened the manhole and waited for Jess and the hogs to appear. The hogs hurried by and soon I could hear Jess yelling ‘Father, Father, how much further?’ Eventually he appeared, flushed, out of breath and wet from knee to foot. I said I would do the pushing act for a block. It was an ordeal. To crawl a block was bad enough, but in cold water, perfumed and stimulated by excited hogs’ offal was not exactly a picnic. And I began to call out and check ‘How much further?’ About that time the gypsy-type porkers reached the next manhole entry. They refused to negotiate the four-inch drop and got themselves wedged in the tile. I crawled back to the entry and Jess got down with a prod pole. “Then the two of us, ‘prod pole Jess and power light Meyer,’ crawled towards the ‘hog blockage.’ We whooped and yelled and the hogs squealed and another freight started by and Jess punched the back porker and it pushed the front animal and it got across the manhole drop. The freight train rumbled on and the hogs ran westward and Jess and I crawled out of the sewer. Quickly he. Red Applegate and I drove to the hog pen. There they were, all four, a bit thinner, with their snouts in the feed trough. Jess put a temporary block at the end of the sewer and we went to my quarters at the orphanage. “Jess and I were wet and chilled. I proposed a ‘warming drop of the creature.’ Red joined us. About that time Father Morgan came in the room and loudly remarked, ‘What smells so?’ We all laughed and Red said, ‘Now I’ve seen everything. Pigs and a priest in a sewer.’ We drank to that! The chill left but the odor of piggery remained.” FATHER STOLL RETURNS By 1949 Father Stoll found the financial conditions had improved. Though the orphanage continued to be operated very economically, there was room in the budget for a bit of fatherly indulgence. The children would beg to go to a drive-in movie. The sisters would say no. [63] Father Stoll would say no. Father Morgan would say, “Oh, yes, we’ll have to go see that show,” and two or three carloads of children and black robed adults would troop to the drive-in. Often they were admitted free. Each assistant superintendent “helped along” in his own way. Monsignor Stoll remembers one year deciding to add a personal touch to he appeals letter which St. Joseph’s sent out to its supporters. He personally signed all 10,000 letters. Of course, that year and every year, all 10,000 were hand addressed by the sisters in their spare moments. Father Morgan used to cut the children’s hair, and once Father Stoll volunteered to help with that job; he was never asked again. One time, when Father Morgan was away, a young boy got into the safe, took Father’s bridle and spirited Father’s lovely palomino from the barn for a forbidden ride. Attempting to climb up an icy hill, the horse slipped and fell on the boy. Hurt and frightened, the boy slipped into the home and climbed in his bed. Luckily, another boy reported the accident and Father Stoll and the sisters rushed the injured boy to the hospital, where he was found to be bleeding internally. Dr. Leo Keenan, a longtime friend of the orphanage, operated for three and a half hours, but the boy needed blood desperately. A soldier, home on leave, had come up to the hospital to say goodbye to his mother, who was a nurse, and he, having the same type blood, agreed to transfuse directly to the weakened boy. After two or three days of uncertainty, the boy began to recover. [64] Another time, a three-month-old baby girl was received by St. Joseph’s on a Friday to be placed for adoption. On Monday, the infant began to turn blue, and the worried sisters rushed her to the hospital. Dr. Roger Sell, another longtime friend, restored the baby’s breathing, but it was several months before she could leave the hospital. At last, she was allowed to be released, and Father Stoll and a sister drove her to Sheridan to her adoptive home. Because of her delicate health, the car was kept at 80°, and the two adults sweltered in the closed car as they monitored the thermometer. The frail child thrived in her new home, and she recently called Monsignor Stoll to ask him to baptize her first child. THE SISTERS GIVE MOTHERLY CARE Sister Andrea remembers many times writing home to her own mother for money for things for the children. One time it was curtains for the toilet stalls in the boys’ bathroom. The growing boys were developing a need for privacy, and Sister believed it was important to foster their sense of self-respect, so she wrote home and was able to buy material printed with the figures of cowboys for the curtains. The sisters gave their children informal moral and religious training in the course of their everyday work and play. In addition, Father Morgan, like Father Henry before him, gave the children formal religious instructions. Daily mass was a part of the routine until the ‘60’s; today mass remains the first order of the day on Sundays and Holy Days. Since its inception, St. Joseph’s has accepted children of every creed and denomination, and made it possible for each child to attend the local church of his choice. Yet surely just as the children in a family learn most about how to live by watching their parents, the children at St. Joseph’s learned most about generosity and charity, about selflessness and dedication, about upright and honorable conduct, by watching their guardians, by seeing T. Joe hosting their Christmas, by having Sister tuck them in, and by knowing that Father was working for their welfare. Bill Clarke, now a Torringtonite, was the fourth of five children in the same family who came to St. Joseph’s in 1950. He recalls that even then, there was rarely a true orphan at St. Joseph’s. Most were children of parents who could not care for them due to divorce or separation, and the average sibling group at St. Joseph’s numbered three or four. He remembers the special talents of each sister: Sister Andrea playing baseball with the big boys. Sister Edwin teaching her little boys to tend a garden, or gathering cedar wood at Guernsey to turn into lamps and [66] candlesticks in the basement woodshop at St. Joseph’s, Sister “Pussyfoot” who glided so silently down the halls that she could creep right up and catch a person unawares in his misbehavior. The sisters kept their charges under constant supervision, whether downtown, at the pool, or on the St. Joseph’s baseball field. Many Catholic children from town came out to St. Joseph’s, too, for choir, pool time, or to be on the baseball team. Don Velarde, who grew up at St. Joseph’s in the 1960’s, remembers that the sisters would often go swimming at night or sometimes jog around the building, after the children were in bed “asleep.” The boys would pretend to be asleep until the sisters were safely gone, then get up for wild pillow fights. Once, when Sister Andrea was on retreat, the senior boys’ dorm was unsupervised. Around 2:00 a.m., about twelve older boys got into a pillow fight with real feather pillows. Aroused by the ruckus. Father Morgan came up to investigate, and ran smack in the face into a flying pillow. He ordered an immediate clean up and quiet. But around 5:00 a.m., he was forced to come up and shut down the pillow fight again: this time, the boys were “grounded” for two weeks. Many of St. Joseph’s young men joined the armed services after graduation from high school. Several times the sisters were asked for background information on young men who were being considered for security positions. When the request was accompanied by permission from the young man, the sisters complied; the files of all St. Joseph’s children are confidential, of course. One of Father Morgan’s favorite stories involves a St. Joseph’s boy who went into the service. One [67] morning during World War II, a sister going to wake her children in one of the dormitories found a six-foot man sleeping in one of the beds. The man awoke to see sister’s startled face. “Don’t be frightened, Sister. This is my home and my bed. I’m back from the service and didn’t have any place to go.” Monsignor Meyer still chuckles over the memory of a tiny boy in the nursery who had difficulty with his t’s. Every time one of the priests came by, he was greeted with “Hi, Water.” Red and Lucille Applegate remember, too, a couple of young “incorrigible” boys who were brought down from Kemmerer by the County Sheriff and Father 0’Connor and left at St. Joseph’s. Within several hours of arriving, the two had stolen a car parked across the street from St. Joseph’s and were headed for Hawk Springs! They were so small that one had to steer while the other worked the toot pedals. They made it out of town before they were caught. But even little demons became angels on Christmas Eve. For then the choir, led by Sister Jude, would go around to all the dorms to waken everyone with their caroling, and all would gather in the chapel for midnight mass. “There would be the warmest sense of community,” recalled Monsignor Meyer. Afterwards there would be hot chocolate, then the magical sleep until Christmas morning, when Father Morgan as Santa Claus would distribute the presents to everyone. Local friends of the orphanage also recall that on Christmas morning the same St. Nicholas would burst into their homes, jingling his bells and bringing a home-baked pan of cinnamon rolls or a mold of fresh churned butter with a Christmas “thank you” from St. Joseph’s children. ST. JOSEPH’S HONORS BISHOP MCGOVERN EXPANDING TO FIT THE TIMES As a result, when the T. Joe Cahill memorial plaque was dedicated in 1953, the ceremony included the ground breaking for a new wing for St. Joseph’s. The dining facilities and kitchen that had sufficed for twenty-three years were indeed become cramped and outmoded. Also, with the bountiful harvests year after year, the sisters and lay cooks needed better food handling and storage facilities. Showers, washrooms and modernized laundry facilities were also required. The addition, connected to the main building by an enclosed passageway, included: four family sized dining rooms for the children; smaller dining rooms for sisters, employees and priests; new kitchens capable of serving 100,000 meals annually; a modernized laundry, food preparation rooms, showers, wash rooms and storage rooms. Bishop Newell and Father Morgan had also hoped to include a gymnasium-auditorium to allow [69] the children indoor recreation. However, the cost was prohibitive. John K. Monroe, Denver architect, designed the addition, and it was constructed by the Fullen Construction Company at a cost of about $250,000. Contributions both large and small helped construct and furnish the wing. A bequest from Harriet Thome-Rider of $100,000 provided a substantial contribution to the building fund. Father Stoll himself operated a jackhammer to break up the old concrete playground. Father Morgan drove to Denver on a bargain hunt for furnishings for the dining rooms. The dining wing’s dedication on July 4, 1954, coincided with the celebration of St. Joseph’s Orphanage’s 25th Anniversary. Bishop Newell presided over the dedication ceremony, which was followed by a special Holy Hour at which Archbishop Vehr of Denver spoke. Many Wyoming priests, as well as a large number of St. Joseph’s supporters and former residents, attended the daylong celebration. The outward appearance of St. Joseph’s had undergone a slow transformation over 25 years. Now it was no longer a “sunflower in a field of beets.” It had sprouted, first, the farm buildings, then, the chapel-auditorium addition, now, the dining-kitchen addition. And all around the buildings, lawns and flowers had been planted and tended, drives and walkways had been planned and constructed. Trees had been planted, and had grown up with the institution. The swimming pool, favorite haunt of the children, had been added. By its twenty-fifth year, St. Joseph’s lay like the centerpiece of a well-tended flower garden. In 1954, Father Stoll was replaced by Father Charles Brady as assistant superintendent and collector. Father Brady remembers without longing the five-month-long stints he spent on the road each fall and winter without returning to Home base while collecting in a new parish every week. The arduous collecting schedules left him little time to spend at the Orphanage. He remembers, however, one time when a mother drove up to the front door of St. Joseph’s, opened her car door, pushed her four preschool children out, and drove off. She was later discovered living in Phoenix with her boyfriend, and it was several months before the children’s father was located and the children resettled. Children like these, who desperately needed the loving shelter St. Joseph’s offered, made those long collection trips worthwhile. A new entry was added to St. Joseph’s in 1958, breaking the severity of its facade. The structure is of Indiana limestone, matching the limestone used in the main building itself and in the Bishop McGovern Statue of St. Joseph in front of the building. Rose-colored Colorado marble decorates the interior of the entry, which forms a small lobby for visitors. On both sides of the entry are memorials to two great benefactors of St. Joseph’s. On one side, the T. Joe Cahill Memorial was resituated, showing in bronze a relief sculpture of T. Joe holding a child above his [70] famous motto. On the other side is the Very Rev. John Henry memorial, a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary holding the Christ child. Again, Monroe designed and Fullen built the entry, which cost $18,000. In 1959, Joseph Sullivan, the Laramie layman who had served with John McDonald on St. Joseph’s board of trustees since its very inception in 1924, died, and his place on the board was filled by young Torrington attorney Joseph Maier. Judge Maier continues to serve St. Joseph’s in its 50th year. The period from 1944 to 1964 was indeed a time of growth for St. Joseph’s Orphanage. Physically, it had expanded and modernized. The number of its children had grown, as hundreds came, sheltered there for a time, and went on to families or out into the world. The number of its friends and benefactors had multiplied as its indefatigable booster, T. Joe Cahill had spread his good word around the circle of his “million friends.” Father Morgan had worked with five assistant superintendents over the twenty years; four of these still labor in the diocese, their priestly experiences enriched by their early and varied training at St. Joseph’s. Monsignor John Meyer (1944-1949), Monsignor George Stoll (1949-1954), Father Charles Brady (1954-1959), Father Michael Butler (1959-1962), and Father Lawrence Etchingham (1962-1964) had driven many miles and given many sermons. Then, in their “off” seasons, these same priests taught CCD lessons and supervised boy scout and 4-H projects, oversaw many garden weedings and listened to many children’s tales. Ending 20 years of fruitful service to St. Joseph’s in 1964, Father Morgan retired from his position as superintendent because of ill health. [71] He had been planning for his retirement for some time, dreaming of a sunny climate far from the icy blasts of Wyoming winter, and had purchased an apartment in Long Beach, California, where he spent time on his vacations. Father Etchingham recalls the first time Bishop Newell came up to St. Joseph’s after Father Etchingham had been assigned there in 1962. Father Morgan hobbled out to the car leaning on a cane like a feeble old man to greet him. This performance was supposed to suggest to the bishop that Father Morgan was really getting on and should be replaced. When he did retire, the entire community of Torrington and many from surrounding areas came out to wish him farewell. Father Morgan, who was in his element in crowds of people, thoroughly enjoyed the celebration. He retired happily to California, where he still resides in a home for retired priests. A final story about him in retirement serves to demonstrate that his ebullient nature had not changed: down the hall from his rooms, a retired monsignor moved in, and placed his name “Monsignor so and so” on his door. Not to be outdone, Father Morgan conferred upon himself the titular honor and changed the name on his own door to read “Monsignor Leo Morgan.” IV Father Lawrence Etchingham: To prepare for his new assignment, Father Etchingham spent the summer of 1962 in Denver working under Monsignor Elmer Kolka, head of Denver Archdiocesan Catholic Charities. Father Etchingham visited almost every institution in the Denver area during that summer, including several traditional orphanages like St. Joseph’s. There he began to realize that the era of the traditional orphanage was drawing to a close. A new philosophy of child care was emerging in which every effort was made to keep the normal child out of the institution and in a home situation, either by supporting his own home through public assistance programs or by providing care in a foster home. A family which lost one parent might be kept intact by financial assistance for the remaining parent. Social Security provisions allowed relatives, aunts, uncles and grandparents to be helped financially by the government when they took an orphaned child into their home. So, many children who might have gone to orphanages moved in with family members instead. Because of these new developments, many orphanages throughout the country closed in the 60’s and 70’s. When Father Etchingham came to St. Joseph’s in the fall of 1962 to begin his collecting chores, and, simultaneously, his Catholic Charities work, he began to see evidence to confirm what he had seen in Denver. In the 60’s fewer and fewer children were referred to St. Joseph’s, and more and more of those who came were emotionally disturbed and could not live harmoniously in their own homes or in foster homes. As Father Etchingham traveled the state for his collecting tours and as he worked with state social services agencies in his Catholic Charities activities, he became aware of the need for some sort of facility in the state to treat [73] emotionally disturbed children. It became increasingly evident to him that the time had come when St. Joseph’s must make new plans and provide new services if it were to continue to carry out its mission to serve Wyoming’s children. STORIES FROM SISTER LORRAINE One of Sister Lorraine’s memories is of a two week old infant who was left with the local parish priest by a desperate woman who could not care for him. St. Joseph’s agreed to take the baby temporarily until a home could be found for him, and Sister Lorraine and the other sisters got baby clothes and an old buggy down from the attic for him. The nursery children were delighted with their new baby. One of the sisters suggested that if they were going to care for the baby for some time they ought to call him by some name, and the name Paul Joseph was selected. For five [74] weeks the little fellow was the pet of the nursery; he was pushed in the buggy, coddled and spoiled. At last an adoptive home was found for Paul Joseph, and when the adoptive parents came to get him, the mother was amazed to learn his name. Her husband’s name was Paul, her father’s, Joseph! Another little one Sister Lorraine remembers was Amy, a Korean orphan who had been adopted by a family in Casper, but had been placed in St. Joseph’s when she was diagnosed as retarded. Sister Lorraine doubted the diagnosis, so she began to observe the child closely. She saw her use a toy iron and ironing board correctly, and imitate many other of the children’s activities. Sister got a little potty chair down from the attic, and suddenly the little girl who could not be trained was learning to be trained. The regular toilet seats were just too tall for Amy! Finally, one day Amy brought a transistor radio to Sister and said clearly, “Put this away.” Her first English words! A psychologist from Cheyenne was consulted, who re-diagnosed her as “retarded because of language barrier.” After about a year’s residence at St. Joseph’s, Amy was adopted. Even in the early 60’s, some of the children Sister Lorraine cared for had been the victims of abuse, both physical and mental. They had been made to feel guilty, to see themselves as bad. Sister tried to impress upon them that there was a difference between doing wrong and being bad. She used to say, “I like you, but I don’t like what you do.” One spunky little boy got disgusted with her for some rule she had laid down, and told her, “I like you, but I don’t like what you do.” Father Etchingham adds that, regardless of how mistreated children were by their parents, they always maintained a true loyalty to them. They held to idealized images of their mother and father, and Father Etchingham emphasized that it was important to keep this strong image, so that the children would have something in which they might take pride. THE SULLIVAN DUO Realizing he might be telling the truth we did go to Casper and did indeed find the money where he said it was. After speaking to their father and verifying that it was for their future needs, we deposited the sizeable amount in the bank and used it for their future education.” Father Gene recalls, “Many of the children were quite confused (by our being identical twins). After unpacking and moving in, I was [76] walking down the hall when a little one tugged at my sleeve and looked at me pensively and asked, “Are you the real Father Sullivan?” I casually answered ‘No, I’m the artificial one!” Father Gene Sullivan remembers that the children were unusually free of prejudice, a great tribute to the program at St. Joseph’s, which from its beginning days had been open to children of every race and creed. A teacher once told him this tale. “During recess a small fourth grader complained that another boy had taken his cap. The teacher asked him who it was. ‘I don’t know his name,’ he sniffled. After further inquiry he said he was wearing a blue coat and brown trousers and was ‘this much taller than I.’ That didn’t help the teacher and so he was asked to point him out. He led the teacher over to the swings and pointed out the only black child on the playground.” Father Gene Sullivan, like assistant superintendents Father Penny and Father Meyer before him, looked out not only for the children but for St. Joseph’s livestock as well. “One cold winter a pack of wild dogs was bothering the livestock and had killed two sheep and three pet geese. I told the older boys, whose rooms were closer to the barnyard, to awaken me if they heard the dogs again. Sure enough, the following night at 2:00 a.m. they came and woke me up. I loaded my .270 and the three of us sneaked out to see the dogs attacking one of the young calves against the barn. I picked out the leader, a large black chow, and shot him. The other dogs fled and we weren’t bothered any more that winter.” FATHER ETCHINGHAM PROTECTS HIS INTERESTS Father Etchingham’s rather stern, impassive front conceals a dry of humor, and he enjoyed observing the children in their relations with each other. When two of the boys fought, he used to take them down to the gym, get out the boxing gloves, and let them fight it out fairly, three rounds with no spectators. He would declare the winner. Once a big boy, [77] rather a bully, and a smaller boy got into a fight. When the boxing gloves were donned, the bully landed the first punch, which aroused the little guy’s wrath. The little fellow lit into the bully and clearly beat him; from then on the bully was no longer a bully and the little boy walked with a jaunty new strut. In 1965, when T. Joe Cahill died, his place on St. Joseph’s board was filled by Judge J.J. Hickey, former Wyoming Governor and U.S. Senator. At Judge Hickey’s untimely death in 1970, James Barren, Wyoming Attorney General and later a Federal Judge, was called by Bishop Newell to serve as trustee. In 1965 three of St. Joseph’s young people graduated from Torrington High School with plans to go on to college, assisted by a special scholarship fund set up for St. Joseph’s children. Father Etchingham recalls that the three had spent a total of 26 years at St. Joseph’s by the time they were graduated. Katherine Brookey went on to graduate from the Sisters of Charity School of Nursing in Kansas City, the first St. Joseph’s alumna to graduate from college assisted by the scholarship fund. Wes Hageman received a fine arts degree in interior design from Denver University. The third member of the graduating trio, Lonnie Foreman, an outstanding student and president of the CYO, was headed for a pre-med course at Creighton University when a pre-college physical turned up a tumor in one lung. Immediate surgery in Denver was a success, but Lonnie died suddenly shortly after surgery. The whole [78] orphanage, where he had lived for nine years, as well as his friends and schoolmates from the community, mourned his death, and his funeral mass was said in the chapel at St. Joseph’s. In 1968, through a generous bequest from Sheridan, Wyoming, residents Fisher P. and Lillian E. Weaver, the Weaver Scholarship Fund was established. Under the guidance of Sheridan attorney William D. Redle, executor of the estate, the fund provides financial aid to children residing at St. Joseph’s who wish to attend college but lack funds to realize their dream. Due to Mr. Redle’s foresight, two-thirds of the annual income generated by the fund is available for scholarships, while one-third is added to the principal to insure that the fund will not only endure but will continue to grow to meet future needs. The trust is administered by Frank Redle, Judge Joseph Maier and the superintendent of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home. NEW FACILITIES BENEFIT MANY The gymnasium that had been St. Joseph’s dream since the 1950’s was finally constructed in 1968 by Plains Building Supply of Torrington from a design by architect Fred Kellogg of Cheyenne at a cost of $ 145,000 so that the children could enjoy physical activities in all kinds of weather and participate in basketball and volleyball, tumbling and trampolining. Since it was built, St. Joseph’s has shared the gym with the local community. P.E. classes from Eastern Wyoming College, adult basketball and volleyball teams, and public school teams have all used the gym. The use of this new facility by people of the area continued the relationship of reciprocal benefits that St. Joseph’s and the Torrington community have always enjoyed. St. Joseph’s brought to Torrington a payroll that has grown over the years, much construction, entertainment and cultural enrichment is its Christmas and musical programs, and the distinction of being the home town of one of Wyoming’s first and finest private facilities for children. Likewise, the Torrington community supported St. Joseph’s from its beginnings, through donations of money, goods, and services, through acceptance of St. Joseph’s children in community activities such as boy scouts, campfire girls, and 4-H, through the families which have taken children into their homes for [79] holidays, especially through the school system which has welcomed St. Joseph’s children, many with special needs, into its classrooms. Though the school system is reimbursed by the child’s home county for the additional expenses, the extra planning and care given by the Torrington school system for the children from St. Joseph’s have always been a great contribution to the child’s well-being. As a gesture of appreciation for this extra effort, and to help the many students from St. Joseph’s and from the community who want to learn a useful skill in high school. Father Etchingham, in October 1969, presented a donation to the Torrington school system on behalf of St. Joseph’s to buy equipment for the Vocational Education Department. Two other resources were added to the physical plant about this same time. The Diocesan Museum between the original building and the newer dining wing was constructed and furnished in 1970, to house memorabilia donated by priests and people of Wyoming, ranging from the extensive collections of T. Joe Cahill to pipe organs rescued from early Wyoming churches. Little Joe Ranch, a small 40-acre ranch on the north Laramie River 15 miles northwest of Wheatland, was acquired by Father Etchingham in the 60’s as a recreation retreat for the children of St. Joseph’s. The ranch offered opportunities to fish and ride and “rough it” in comfort in the small ranch house, expanded in 1970 by the addition of a large family room with a rock fireplace and sleeping loft. For several years Catholic Social Services also operated a summer camp for underprivileged children from the state at the Little Joe Ranch. TIMES ARE CHANGING EVALUATION AND EXPLORATION Father Etchingham presented the Board of Trustees of St. Joseph’s with the recommendations of the National Conference Study Committee and with his own suggestion that St. Joseph’s pursue the development of a treatment facility for emotionally disturbed children at St. Joseph’s. The board accepted his suggestion and authorized him to visit several institutions in the United States and to seek the advice of professionals in the field. Among those he visited were St. Aemilian Home for emotionally disturbed boys in Milwaukee and Hanna Boys’ Center, a school for emotionally disturbed and delinquent boys in Sonoma, California. In April, 1969, Alfred Kasprowicz, Psychiatric Social Worker and Assistant Director at St. Aemilian’s, and Sister Mary [81] Grace O.S.F., Chief Psychologist and Principal at Hanna’s Boys’ Center, came to St. Joseph’s for the first child welfare workshop offered at St. Joseph’s. Sixty-five welfare workers from all over the state heard Kasprowicz and Sister Mary Grace speak about the children’s treatment institution and attended panel presentations by social workers, foster parents, and children from St. Joseph’s. At this time there was no recognized treatment program for the emotionally disturbed child in Wyoming. Children with such problems were sent elsewhere out-of-state for treatment. Such treatment was quite expensive and the State was responsible for paying for it. It was clear that the number of emotionally disturbed children was increasing. Yet, with the stresses put on family life in recent years, the number, according to one authority, was just “the tip of the iceberg.” Therefore, when St. Joseph’s became interested in developing a program for emotionally disturbed children, the State Department of Public Services encouraged Father Etchingham, and both Governor Cliff Hansen and later Governor Stanley Hathaway offered their assistance. The Federal Government through the department of HEW also lent its support. Workshops such as the one Mr. Kasprowicz and Sister Mary Grace presented informed the county welfare workers from about the state of the need for the type of treatment program St. Joseph’s hoped to develop. A TREATMENT PROGRAM IS BEGUN It was at this time when the declining number of religious vocations began to be felt seriously at St. Joseph’s. Year by year one or two sisters were withdrawn to meet commitments of their order in other localities. The result was that by 1973 lay people had replaced the sisters in supervising the dormitories. The remaining sisters tutored St. Joseph’s children and supervised the kitchen and chapel. In the fall of 1970, as part of the new treatment program, a public school classroom funded by Torrington School District 3 (later Goshen County District 1) was opened at St. Joseph’s. In this classroom, each [82] child was instructed by an individualized program taped for him and played back via earphones in his private cubicle. This form of instruction was intended to minimize distractions and allow the emotionally disturbed child to learn at his own speed. Each child spent half the day in this special classroom and half the day in a regular classroom in the Torrington school system. In the first year, twelve emotionally disturbed children attended St. Joseph’s special classroom. They were instructed by Sister Beatrice Smith, who came to St. Joseph’s with extensive training and experience in working with such children. Despite the superior qualifications of the newly hired staff and the modern equipment and program in use, the number of children at St. Joseph’s continued to decline through the first two or three years of the new program. One factor was Father Etchingham’s commitment to finding suitable foster homes for those children at St. Joseph’s who did not suffer from emotional problems. He felt that, while the institutional care might be a necessity in some cases, “no institution is a substitute for the home.” Any child able to function in a home should be given the opportunity to do so. Another factor was that referring agencies around the state — county D-PASS (Department of Public Assistance and Social Services) offices, mental health centers and schools — were not fully aware of St. Joseph’s new program. Still another factor in St. Joseph’s declining enrollment was the inexperience of its entire staff in the new area of treatment for emotionally disturbed children. Jack Brown and his successors as treatment director, Charles Doman (1971) and Glenn Morris (1972) each had a different approach to the treatment of emotional problems. Doman, with an analytical background, favored intensive counseling sessions with individual children. Morris, with a background in recreation, preferred group training. Yet, whatever orientation the director took, he had to implement his treatment plans through the childcare workers, who had their own theories for handling the children. In the early 70’s, it was often difficult to hire trained child-care workers. Many of the staff were untrained persons who simply enjoyed working with children and wanted to help them. To enjoy children and desire to help them is absolutely essential to effective childcare, but a professional atmosphere is also essential to enable the willing staff members to work together to facilitate change for the better in the children. It was several years before a trained staff could be developed to carry out a consistent overall treatment plan. PUBLICIZING THE NEW PROGRAM In August 1971, St. Joseph’s Journal was first published and sent to the many people in the state who had shown interest in St. Joseph’s over the years and supported it with their donations. This quarterly newsletter with pictures informed the people of Wyoming of the new services available at St. Joseph’s, and was published periodically until 1976, when printing and mailing costs became prohibitive. In 1971 three prominent sports personalities, sportscaster Curt Gowdy, Dallas Cowboys quarterback Roger Staubach and Miami Dolphin Coach Don Shula, lent their support to St. Joseph’s by appearing on Wyoming television and radio to advertise St. Joseph’s program. In 1974 former Wyoming Governor and future U.S. Secretary [84] of the Interior Stanley K. Hathaway added his support. These endorsements continue to be broadcast. In 1971 Father Eugene Sullivan had been replaced as assistant superintendent by Reverend Carl Beavers, and Father Beavers continued the work of presenting St. Joseph’s appeal in the parishes of the diocese. In his presentations Father Beavers emphasized the similarity between the work St. Joseph’s had always performed in the past for Wyoming’s homeless children and the work St. Joseph’s was performing for a new group of homeless, those who had emotional difficulties that kept them from being accepted in a normal home. To help underwrite and publicize its good works, St. Joseph’s became the first Wyoming organization to issue its own Christmas seals, presenting the first sheet to Governor Hathaway in 1973. Each year’s seals have been produced, printed and donated by Unicover Corporation of Cheyenne from original designs by noted artists. Since 1973 each year’s first sheet of St. Joseph’s Christmas Seals has been presented to a Wyoming citizen who has demonstrated a commitment to Wyoming children and to St. Joseph’s goals. Recipients include Secretary of State Thyra Thompson, 1974; Governor Ed Herschler, 1975; Wyoming Supreme Court Chief Justice Rodney M. Guthrie, 1976; Mrs. Joseph Sullivan and Mrs. John McDonald, widows of St. Joseph’s first trustees, 1977 and 1978; and Mr. Fred Goodstein, well-known philanthropist, 1979. AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE Recalling the misgivings and uncertainties that had marked the inauguration of the new treatment program. Bishop Newell recently declared, “The principal credit is due Father Etchingham. It was his vision and courage, his dedication and perseverance which made the [85] program a reality.” The Bishop said that “in 1972 and 1973 there were times when we wondered whether Wyoming was ready to accept such a program for its disturbed children.” The prelate’s words take on added significance in the light of enrollment figures which reveal that in 1972 there were 23 children at St. Joseph’s, only 21 of them in the treatment program. Less than a year later, just 14 children were left at St. Joseph’s. The rising costs of the new program and the declining number of children posed a serious problem to the administration. In 1970, just before embarking on the treatment program, the total budget had reached $105,000 per year, placing the actual cost per child at about $175 per month but varying with the total number of children. By 1972 the additional staff salaries and educational expenses to move toward a treatment program increased the total budget to $173,370 and the declining number of children raised the monthly cost to about $475 per month per child. DREAMS BECOME REALITIES Now Father Etchingham and the board felt confident enough in the success of their new program to authorize Father Beavers to take action on a project he had been dreaming of for several years: sponsoring a group home. There some of St. Joseph’s older children who needed a real home could live with foster parents in a family-like atmosphere. In December 1973, St. Joseph’s purchased about 160 acres adjacent to a 144-acre farm property south of Torrington, which it had acquired in 1972 with the aid of a bequest. On the new property was a modern four bedroom ranch style house, which could be enlarged to accommodate the 10 to 12 children St. Joseph’s planned to place there. In July 1974, a low bid of $70,000 was accepted from Plains Building Supply of Torrington to add a wing with four bedrooms/one large bathroom, laundry and recreation room, and an apartment for the group parents, as well as to add an additional bathroom to the original house. The Wyoming Service Sorority, Epsilon Sigma Alpha, convinced by Father Beaver’s enthusiastic appeal, sponsored St. Joseph’s Group Home as its [87] project for 1974-75 and committed itself to raise $30,000 for the home over the following two years. By 1974 the new treatment program which Father Etchingham had started was at last well established. But a shortage of priests in the diocese made the assignment of two priests to St. Joseph’s no longer feasible, and Father Etchingham was reassigned in September 1974, as pastor of St. Patrick’s Church in Casper, while continuing to act as head of Catholic Social Services. Twelve years of his priestly life had been devoted to St. Joseph’s Children’s Home, and he called these “twelve of my best years as a priest.” As superintendent during ten of those years, he had guided St. Joseph’s to a new calling of service to Wyoming’s children. Bishop Newell, in thanking him for his generous work as superintendent and his timely move into the field of treatment, said of him, “During a difficult period of transition, Father Etchingham’s leadership and capacity for work have been in the tradition of great churchmen.” V [88] Father Carl Beavers took up the reins of the superintendency of St. Joseph’s in September 1974. Feather Beavers, as had all the past superintendents of St. Joseph’s, brought his own unique gifts and perspectives to the job. A true native of the Cowboy State who grew up in Sheridan, Dayton, and Powell, Father Beavers was at home on the range. He established and built up a beef herd at St. Joseph’s while assistant superintendent. Since the early days of Father Henry and his prize-winning Hampshire sheep and Holsteins, the livestock at St. Joseph’s had included dairy cattle, hogs, and, until the 50’s, sheep. Many children had worked with animals from the farm to earn 4-H ribbons over the years. Father Beavers saw the advantages of raising beef cattle to feed the children as well as to make available more 4-H and FFA projects to the children. In his travels around the state he called upon different ranchers to donate heifers to the beginning herd. In 1971 he had a herd of 45 heifers. And, registered Hereford bull Wyoming Winrock 018 was donated to St. Joseph’s by the Wyoming Hereford Association with the aid of Joe Budd, Ed Middlesworth, Bob Waggoner and the Wyoming Hereford Ranch. By 1973 the children were showing calves from the herd at county and state fairs, and the 1973 FFA Reserve Champion Hereford was from St. Joseph’s. With the help of Joe Pfister of Lusk, purebred sheep were again raised at St. Joseph’s, though this time the breed was Columbias rather than Hampshires. Father Beavers had studied for the priesthood at St. Thomas Seminary in Denver, and served as assistant pastor for two and a half years at St. Lawrence O’Toole in Laramie before coming to St. Joseph’s in 1971. In Denver, in Laramie, and in his travels around the state collecting for St. Joseph’s, he became known for his articulate, carefully reasoned sermons and his mastery of every social situation. As a friend has noted, “If Pope John Paul II himself suddenly helicoptered into St. Joseph’s hayfield in the middle of a hot day of haying, Father Beavers would step out of the cab of the mower, his work shirt and straw hat transformed into the image of a three piece black suit and Roman collar, and deliver a few well chosen words appropriate to the occasion.” Poise, combined with a hearty enjoyment of sports, ranching, and hunting has won friends for Father Beavers and for St. Joseph’s all over the state. Despite his having to reduce his collection tours to reach only half the parishes each year, Wyoming’s people continue to be faithful in their generosity to St. Joseph’s. St. Joseph’s Philosophy Articulated Every person is not only created in the image and likeness of God, but it is God’s will that he is destined to live in peace and harmony with his fellow human beings in the world. It must follow therefore, that the children at St. Joseph’s Children’s Home are possessed of certain rights which flow from their created dignity, and which must be respected by the staff and reinforced in every phase of the program. Of signal importance are: the right to physical well-being; the right to freedom from emotional and physical abuse; the right to sustain family relationships; the right to reasonable personal privacy; the right to adequate opportunities for personal growth, intellectual, emotional and spiritual, through appropriate educational and life experience. Since everyone is called to live within the human family in a social and community setting, it is vital that among the life skills fostered and practiced are those which encourage the child to be sensitive to the rights of others, as well as to his own personal responsibilities as a social being. [90] In order that the child may have a true and lasting understanding of his own personal worth as well as that of his fellow human beings, he is given every encouragement to develop a God-centered value system based upon a sound moral code. In short, the philosophy of St. Joseph’s provides the foundation for a program of caring and helping and training in which each child is encouraged to discover his own worth and to respect the worth of others. ST. JOSEPH’S GROUP HOME OPENS Because of the extra demands put upon a husband-wife team who live on the premises of the group home, a third member of the team was added in 1978, to share the paperwork, driving, and all the problems and rewards that parenting 10 to 12 children entails. In 1975-76, the living areas of St. Joseph’s were once more modernized and refurnished. New paint and carpet warmed the living rooms and halls. Paneled partitions divided the dormitories into one or two person bedrooms to afford more privacy and to promote a sense of personal pride and order. Sturdy couches and chairs in bright plaids replaced the old, well used furniture. ST. JOSEPH’S FAMILY GROWS St. Joseph’s population grew to 55 in the middle 70’s and has remained around 45 to 55 through the decade, necessitating a staff of 44, including childcare and treatment professionals, administrative personnel, and kitchen, maintenance and farm personnel. Father Beavers is sometimes asked why St. Joseph’s no longer houses 85 children, or why its staff is so much larger than in the past. Father Beavers answers these questions succinctly when he says, only partly in jest, “50 children at war take up more room than 85 children at peace.” He continues, “The children St. Joseph’s serves now have such emotional and behavior problems that they require almost constant supervision and encouragement and the kind of intensive counseling that even trained professionals can only give so many hours a day. The time when the devoted sisters worked 24 hour days in maintaining the building while mothering 85 children has passed.” In acknowledging the extraordinary service the sisters gave to St. Joseph’s over the years, Father Beavers notes that “one has only to visit the convent at the Mother House in Milwaukee to see the high price the sisters have paid for their commitment to the children at St. Joseph’s. Many of the sisters are old, worn out by caring and working, by the time they are 60.” TALES OF BROTHERS The mother was sought out. She had also remarried. Although she wrote to say she loved and missed the boys, she was unable to give them a home. She too relinquished them for adoption, stipulating that they be adopted together. Father Etchingham, who handled the adoptions through Catholic Social Services, is an identical twin himself, and he assured the mother that he understood the special bond between twins and would take special care to find the best possible home for them. After about one year of treatment at St. Joseph’s, John and Joe were placed with a family in a northern Wyoming town, where they are given the consistent, loving care and stability they so desperately need. Special education and speech therapy continue to improve their communication skills and they now are thriving, after an unpromising start in life. For John and Joe, St. Joseph’s provided the bridge that made it possible to grow from an unhappy beginning to a successful new life. Another pair of brothers came to St. Joseph’s in 1975 from half way around the world. Hai and Hoang arrived at St. Joseph’s in May 1975, in response to an offer Father Beavers made to Catholic Relief Services to accept emotionally disturbed Vietnamese war orphans. The two boys, [93] seven and eight years old, had lost their parents during the war in their homeland and had lived in a Saigon orphanage until the massive evacuation of South Vietnam brought them to the United States. It wasn’t long before Hai and Hoang picked up enough English to take part in the give and take of group living with the other children, and their winning, dimpled smiles made it difficult not to “show a little favoritism,” recalls Father Beavers. The two possessed very different personalities, but each in his own way showed signs of the insecurity both had known in their short lives. The boys spent three years at St. Joseph’s, learning much about American life and customs and, at the same time, beginning to grow in the security and safety of their new lives. The boys and Father Beavers became very attached to each other. He was tempted to keep them at St. Joseph’s. But after three years of help they were ready to establish family ties, and at 10 and 11, they could not be denied the opportunity to try to become part of a new family. After a patient search by Father Beavers for an adoptive home where the chance of a successful placement was virtually assured, the boys left St. Joseph’s in the summer of 1978 for an adoptive home in western Wyoming, their hearts filled with hope and happiness, but sadness, too. When the formal adoption papers were signed six months later, several old friends from St. Joseph’s celebrated with Hai and Hoang’s family at the adoption party. A FRIEND IS LOST Suddenly in October 1977, the fun came to an abrupt end. A group of 15 children and three adults were relaxing in the evening of a full day at the ranch when one of the boys reported a fire in the basement. Without coat or hat, some without shoes, the entire group evacuated the building. Two of the adults tried to re-enter it to salvage a few possessions, but within minutes the entire building was filled with fire and smoke. Helplessly the group watched the building which represented so many hours of freedom and adventure go up in flames. By the time the fire department from Wheatland arrived the entire structure was leveled; only the stone chimney remained standing. The children and the care workers were stunned by the speed of the fire, evidently started when some of the boys tried to light an old kerosene lamp. The sobered group trooped home to St. Joseph’s, thankful that no child had been injured by the smoke and flames, yet mourning the loss of an old and dear friend, Little Joe. TREATMENT THEORIES DEVELOP But, as St. Joseph’s took on the challenge of treating emotionally disturbed children, more sophisticated theory was required. For the first several years, a point system was followed, and gradually refined. The basic skills of living in society were taught and scored, and a child’s progress through the treatment program depended upon his earning acceptable scores on various charts. The program in the early 70’s consisted of three phases, from mastery of personal responsibilities such as grooming and bed making, to mastery of social responsibilities such as helping with dishwashing and cooperating with others, and finally to mastery of the child’s particular situation, dealing with school and family problems and preparing to return home. Mickey Gamble emphasized regular staff training sessions. With several childcare workers dealing with the same child each week, it became vital to develop and carry out a specific treatment plan so that the child experienced consistency. One of the outside resource people [95] Gamble called upon for help in staff training was Doctor Russell Blomdahl from the Southeast Mental Health Center in Torrington. Doctor Blomdahl introduced the staff to the theories of Doctor Alfred Adler as they are applied today in child rearing. This “Adlerian Psychology” offered St. Joseph’s staff a hopeful new way of looking at its children. Toward the end of 1975, St. Joseph’s began to reorganize its treatment model to follow the principles of Adlerian Psychology. Adlerian Psychology offered a practical method for expressing in its treatment plan the philosophical commitment of St. Joseph’s to the children it serves. Father Beavers explains, “Adlerian Psychology provides a workable format for treatment which honors the intrinsic dignity and free will of each child. Adlerian Psychology reflects our belief that God has created each child to live in peace and harmony with his fellow human beings. Every individual is motivated by the need to have purpose, to have a part to play in the human family. The child who is discouraged in his attempts to find a constructive part to play will turn to destructive actions in his search for a way to have purpose. This is the kind of child St. Joseph’s sees: the discouraged child who feels he can only belong by being the ‘black sheep’ of the family, or the ‘class cut-up/ or the ‘worst kid’ in the neighborhood. Through some mistaken perception developed in growing up, the child is convinced this is the way life is. St. Joseph’s task, then, is to change the way the child views the world, so that he or she can choose new, useful and constructive ways of belonging.” The basic training tool at St. Joseph’s in the Adlerian Model of Treatment is the living group. There are five living groups: three boys’ groups, a girls’ group, and the group home. The children and group living teachers in each unit attempt to form an interdependent group in which each member has a constructive part to play, and each person has a sense of belonging. It is significant that in some ways St. Joseph’s has gone back to the traditions of its early days, when the sisters and their charges worked together to keep St. Joseph’s clean and orderly. In those days, the sisters and children thought they polished the floors and swept the sidewalks to keep the home beautiful. Now the staff recognizes anew that it is an absolutely essential part of their treatment for the children to have a part to play, to contribute to the common good, to feel needed and noticed. The children all have chores to do as part of belonging to the group. It might be dishwashing, vacuuming or helping with the laundry. In addition, paying jobs around the home are available, so that the ambitious can earn spending money by milking, washing St. Joseph’s cars or yard work. School is a very important part of every child’s life, but for many of the children who come to St. Joseph’s, school has been an unhappy [96] experience and frequently one marked by failure. The Torrington school system continues to be extremely supportive of St. Joseph’s, and many individual teachers who teach St. Joseph’s children work closely with St. Joseph’s to understand Adlerian concepts and use them in the classroom, so that St. Joseph’s children can begin to experience success in school. One story illustrates the kind of discouragement St. Joseph’s children bring with them and points out the understanding, effective treatment St. Joseph’s employs. Jonathan was a 13-year-old boy who had been at St. Joseph’s for six months or so. He had functioned very well in school the previous spring with an outstanding teacher, who had since left the school system. He continued to do well at the Home during the summer. In the fall he absolutely refused to go to school. Because Mickey Gamble had faith in the boy and felt there was some unknown reason for his sudden refusal to attend school, he arranged for a supportive staff member to tutor Jonathan for two hours every day, asking her to maintain a very open, nonjudgmental attitude. For eight days straight Jonathan refused to do any work. He would spend 15 minutes each day deriding the tutor, and then would walk out. The tutor refused to become ruffled. She simply stated that this was his time and she would be there whenever he was ready to work. Occasionally she could get a grin by teasing him about his elusive dimples. On the ninth day, just as the tutor had reached the end of her rope, Jonathan came in, sat down, and began pouring out his feelings, his fears of being abandoned by parents and other people and his suicidal thoughts. The next day he was back in school and made a special point of asking the tutor if she would tutor him on a regular basis. Testing later revealed him to be extremely bright, and exceptionally high in the need for consistency. The loss of his well-loved teacher the previous year had triggered fears of abandonment that the tutor had at last overcome. Since then he has never missed a tutoring session. Of course, if the tutor can’t make it, she must call and notify him so that he will not become worried. The investment of so much time and patience in one boy demonstrates the commitment of St. Joseph’s staff to each individual child, following the example of the Good Shepherd, who leaves the flock of 99 to search for the one lost lamb. ST. JOSEPH’S: A MODEL PROGRAM Through these sessions and through outreach visits St. Joseph’s staff makes regularly to the children’s home communities, St. Joseph’s has served as a model for childcare services throughout the state. In the summers, graduate students in social work or psychology from the University of Wyoming come to St. Joseph’s to do internships under the [98] supervision of St. Joseph’s staff, and diocesan seminarians, future Wyoming priests, work at St. Joseph’s to gain experience in pastoral counseling and youth ministry. St. Joseph’s staff began offering evening workshops in parenting to parishes and organizations in the diocese in 1979 under the Diocesan Programs for People. St. Joseph’s provides treatment, unique in Wyoming, for the emotionally disturbed youngster aged six to 18, who can benefit from a residential program in an open setting. St. Joseph’s contracts with the State of Wyoming to treat Wyoming children under a “purchase of service” agreement, with the state paying a portion of the cost of treating each child each month. Public funds can only be used for maintenance of the child or social services for the child; the administrative costs, as well as the cost of maintenance and expansion of St. Joseph’s physical plant, continue to be met entirely by private donations. In 1978 a review team from the Wyoming Department of Health and Social Services visited St. Joseph’s. They later wrote to Bishop Hart and Father Beavers to commend them and the entire staff for the treatment program. Mr. Jermy Wight, Director of the Division of Public Assistance and Social Services, who headed the team, wrote that “We are impressed with the fact that your staff are highly skilled individuals with a keen sense of unity and supportiveness among themselves. The children with whom we visited reflected a self-direction and sense of security which we believe is a result of your efforts. . . . We also hope that you will continue to expand your role as training-facilitator in the Adlerian Treatment Model.” The professional program, the opportunity for advanced training in Adlerian techniques and the supportive atmosphere at St. Joseph’s, as well as the opportunity to work with children, attract a skilled and dedicated staff who stay for an average of three to four years. In 1980 St. Joseph’s has six staff members with Master degrees, ten with Bachelor degrees, and two with Associate’s degrees. The children St. Joseph’s treats today are as varied as the reasons they have come to St. Joseph’s. They can be as naive as the youngster who decided to go home to Sheridan and was found walking north on West C street in Torrington, or as street-wise as the youngsters who stole a car from St. Joseph’s and made it all the way to Los Angeles, where a relative notified St. Joseph’s of their whereabouts. The emotional confusion that brought each one to St. Joseph’s can manifest itself in as many ways as there are children, from an impressive string of foul words and a shell of hostility to a pathetic shyness that fears the everyday world. The only common element in all the children St. Joseph’s treats is their need for a consistent, loving therapy based on faith in their worth and hope for their future. LOOKING TO THE FUTURE Recent federal legislation, however, affects the children St. Joseph’s receives. Section 94-142 of the “Education for all Handicapped Children Act” states that the child shall be educated and cared for in the “least restrictive setting” appropriate to his condition. The purpose of the law is to keep the child in the mainstream: in a regular classroom if possible, in a special education classroom in a regular school as a second choice, receiving special counseling in his home community if need be. Placing a child in a residential treatment program is to be done only after all other options have been tried and found wanting. For the future, this law promises that the child who eventually ends up at St. Joseph’s will have experienced an even longer sequence of failures before he reaches St. Joseph’s, and will be even more deeply discouraged and more intensely angry and hurt. Teaching that child to view himself positively will be an even more difficult task in the future, requiring more staff members in proportion to children, and a more intensive, holistic program, possibly requiring a full school program at St. Joseph’s. According to Bishop Hart, “As long as there is a need for the sort of quality care St. Joseph’s is providing, and as long as the wonderful people of Wyoming continue to show their support for the work St. [100] Joseph’s accomplishes, St. Joseph’s will continue to offer treatment to Wyoming’s emotionally disturbed children. I look upon St. Joseph’s as a service the Catholic Church can provide for the state in which we are privileged to live.” In the future, St. Joseph’s staff will become even more active in providing parenting training throughout the state through the Diocesan Programs for People. The creation of more group homes is a long-term goal of St. Joseph’s, as well, because more and more children will need training and experience in family life. How St. Joseph’s Children’s Home will meet the demands of the future is still unknown. The next fifty years are sure to bring changes to society, to Wyoming, to St. Joseph’s, too. But St. Joseph’s has held fast to a tradition of commitment to Wyoming’s children through the changes of the past fifty years. These fifty years have witnessed wars, economic upheavals and the burdens of family breakdowns, all of which have hit hardest at our children. St. Joseph’s tradition has been inspired by the leadership of extraordinary bishops, built upon by the loving labor of committed priests and sisters and buttressed by the material and spiritual support of the generous people of Wyoming. That tradition of commitment to Wyoming’s children has provided a shelter in which generations of Wyoming’s young people have grown and developed. That tradition of commitment is the unshakeable foundation upon which our next 50 years will be built. HISTORY OF ST. JOSEPH’S CHILDREN’S HOME Trustees of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home [101] Presidents: Vicars General: Chancellors: Superintendent: Rev. Carl A. Beavers 1974-Present Lay Trustees: Mr. Joseph R. Sullivan 1924-1959 In 1973, an Advisory Board of five to seven people whose background and experience will contribute to the more efficient operation of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home, was established to serve the Board of Trustees. The Advisory Board is appointed by the President of the Board of Trustees, with one member appointed by the President of the Catholic Social Services Board. Serving on the St. Joseph’s Advisory Board: Rev. Lawrence Etchingham 1974-Present Bishop Newell expressed his thanks to the members of the Board of St. Joseph’s in 1976, saying: “How fortunate the Home has been over the years to receive such prudent and enlightened counsel from the dedicated people who served then, and are serving now, as members of the Trustees and Advisory Board.” Superintendents of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home Assistant Superintendents Sisters of St. Francis of Assisi of Milwaukee Lay Employees of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home [originally in columns] [104] Jacob L. Abel Emory D. Abley Kathleen P. Akright Sara T. Alderson Judith L. Angwin Caria M. Aspaas William F. Backman Cynthia A. Barkdoll Lee A. Barker Grace Baros Leonard J. Bascus Herman J. Baurer Mary M. Beaton Gottlieb Beierle Edith Benninghoven Richard A. Berg Nancy S. Beyea Maureen M. Blanton Barbara K. Bogus Steven Bogus Kay L. B or ton Barry J. Boulden Ben C. Boxwell III Roberta J. Boyd Richard M. Breedlove Catherine L. Brockel John J. Brown Lynne Brown Donald P. Brownstein Carol L. Bubolt Loxi J. Calmes Franck S. Cartis Connie I. Cassell Cecile F. Chambers Frank W. Cichowski Audrey D. dark Vernon F. Clark Cecelia A. Cobb Ethel M. Conger Jenon N. Copple Charlene D. Cuthbertson Lucy E. Cwiklinski Mary C. Denchok Susan R. Dennis John Dierk Janet
M. Dixon Edward A. Dolinar Charles G. Doman Josephine Donbraska Doreen
Douglas Al Duran [105] Michael Hellman Lauraine M. Henning Marcene J. Herbaugh Ellen K. Herdt Lucinda J. Heward Ruby Hickman Gerald W. Hicks Joy Hollingworth Patricia D. Ibarra Edith L. Johnson Glenn L. Johnson Terri Johnston Colleen Jolovich Roch S. Jones Robert E. Jordan Mary L. Joy Nancy Joy Rosella M. Judd Leslie M. Kell Janet Kemper Patricia 0. Kessler Mark G. Kramer Martha M. Kramer Deborah L. Kroenlein Rhonda F. Laird Grace M. Langdon Clyde Law Amy F. Lee Julianne M. Lefevre Richard L. Lefevre Michele L. Lieuallen Doris F. Logan Kathleen M. Lorenz Beth A. Lundholm Jill A. Maddox Joseph A. Madrid Erik D. Mansager Juana R. Martinez Ralph Martinez Jan E. McAvoy Flora McCabe Arrah L. McCreery Kevin J. McGeeney Maureen M. McGeeney Sandra L. McGeeney Willa R. Mclmosh Patrick McKenna Wilma G. McPherson Christeen A. Meyer Donald Miles Alice M. Miller Barry A. Miller Bernice E. Miller Jess Miller Wesley C. Miller Robert J. Monahan Glenn A. Morris Priscilla Morris Donald R. Moss Judie Moss Janet E. Mueller Nancy A. Muldoon Shea Murphy Teresa M. Nappi Laura L. Nash LaVertta V. Nash Nancy D. Nelson Alice Newman Helen Olson Sandra K. Orth Nettie Otero Clinton Pace Donald L. Packard Jill Palm Mary S. Palmer Boupha Phommarath Mouksay Phommarath Rose M. Poole Shawna L. Powers Theresa M. Prado Pamela Probst Price F. Purdum Virginia A. Purdum Mary P. Redle Eva V. Reyes Dana L. Riley [106] Diane L. Risha Mary Rodriquez Michael L. Rohr Daniel P. Romero Leo Romero Margaret R. Rowland Gary J. Ruzicka Deborah J. Sadler Vicki Sawyer Sandra M. Scheberle Albert Schlager Janice E. Schlagel Martha E. Schlagel William Schlager Cynthia Schneider Marian K. Schoenfelder Carl D. Schuppe Vicki Scott Susan M. Sedman Helen H. Seid Barbara A. Shenk Marie Y. Sigler William M. Skelton Florence M. Skinner Barbara A. Slaughter Edith A. Sorrick Lawrence A. Spinosa Gary L. Starbuck Kandice B. Starbuck W.C. Starbuck Susan J. Stoddard Virginia L. Stroup Samuel L. Sturman Joe Swarthout Tuffy N. Tanner Kelly Taubert Connie L. Terrell Mary J. Thompson Paul A. Thompson Susan G. Thrasher Willard P. Tucker Timothy A. Tunnell Leo L. Urbanek George Waisganis, Jr. Shirley Walsh William Walsh Robert E. Waring Marian D. Weis James Wells Gail A. Whitaker Robert M. White Linda Whiteman Mark L. Williams Nickalina S. Williams Letisha J. Willmschen Stanley L. Willmschen Martha K. Yates Jesse D. Yeatts David G. Young Delilah R. Zamora Dora Zamora Rebecca A. Zarling Marcia D. Zimmer Acknowledgements [107] I would like to thank the many people who shared their memories of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home with me: Bishop Hubert M. Newell, Monsignor Francis Penny, Monsignor George Stoll, Monsignor John Meyer, Father Leo Morgan, Monsignor Frederick Kimmett, Father Charles Brady, Father Lawrence Etchingham, Father Jerry Sullivan, Father Gene Sullivan, Father Carl Beavers, Sister Lorraine Bittman, Sister Andrea Esposito, Sister Crescence Steiert and Sister Dorothy Kaiser, Red and Lucille Applegate, Mrs. John McDonald, Mrs. Dorothy VandeKamp, Bill and Margaret Clarke, David Haines, Mickey Gamble, Rick Breedlove, Gary and Kandice Starbuck and Jess Miller. Clippings from the back issues of the Torrington Telegram, the Wyoming Catholic Register, the Wyoming State Tribune and the Wyoming Eagle, the Scottsbluff Star Herald and the Casper Star Tribune provided much useful information, as did T. Joe Cahill’s personal papers and other collections in the Diocesan Museum at St. Joseph’s. Gail and John Ludens of Luden’s Photography Studio were very helpful in locating and reproducing many of the old photographs. I appreciate the encouragement and thoughtful help of my husband, Dick Letevre, and the efficient, prompt typing done by Janet Mueller. I would especially like to thank Bishop Hubert M. Newell for the careful editing and excellent advice he provided, and Father Carl Beavers for the opportunity he gave me to write this history of St. Joseph’s Children’s Home. — Julianne Lefevre HISTORY OF ST. JOSEPH’S CHILDREN’S HOME Appendix II: ST.JOSEPH GUARDIAN ANGEL SACRED HEART OF JESUS BLESSED VIRGIN ST. PAUL ST. PETER ST. AUGUSTINE ST. MARY MAGDALENE ST. ANNE ST. VINCENT ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST ST. ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY ST. ALOYSIUS ST. THERESE ST. LOUIS ST.AGNES Donors of the Stations of the Cross in St. Joseph’s Chapel Donors of the Pews of St. Joseph’s Chapel Donor of the Holy Water Fonts Rev. Gerard Schellinger MEMORIAL PAGE
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