My Cathedral

Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception

1122 South Clinton Street
Fort Wayne, IN 46802-3130


Photo Credit: KFH (May 2008)


God and church have always been a factor in my family's life. My great-grandmother...Helena Starost Roy Kline...was a Catholic girl, through in through. She raised her three sons - Wayne (my grandfather), Walter Jr., and Kenneth as good Catholic boys. When Wayne and Walter Jr. grew up and married (Kenneth died as a boy), their children also continued the Catholic traditions.

The downtown churches - Cathedral, St. Mary's, and St. Patrick's were the three churches that generations of my family belonged to. I can find old newspaper clippings of marriages, funerals, first communions, baptisms, and school attendance.

Although much of my childhood revolved around St. Therese, most of my life's major events have taken place in Cathedral.

Photo: 1967 (from left) Wayne Roy, Kristina Frazier, Helena Starost Roy Kline, Patricia Frazier.

I was baptized there, I was married there, and my grandfather's funeral was held there. When I was a young adult, I sang in choir and attended mass there. I wasn't an every week person but I certainly considered myself a Catholic girl.

When I left Fort Wayne, all association with my Catholic church (in general) ceased. Part of that was my uncomfortableness with living in the Indianapolis area (it's still too big for me and doesn't have that small city/big town feeling that Fort Wayne always gave me). The other reason I didn't attend church was that I was pretty angry at God for taking away my grandfather. Even though I had expressed this opinion to Grandpa (while he was close to death even), he was very steadfast in his belief of God and was even perturbed at me for ever mentioning (me) "not believing in God anymore".

For 22 years, I have carried that pain with me - my grandfather's hastened and unfair death, my anger at God, and some of my grandfather's last words to me.

2009 has been a horrible year. You see I haven't posted much this year on my blog and I can tell you that much of that has to do with the heartbreak, heartache, and misfortune I have experienced this year.

Recently though, that anger that I've been holding on to for 22 years has dissipated. I can't tell you what happened exactly - it wasn't just one thing...it was a series of events and signs that made me realize that it was time to let go.

I still miss my grandfather but I know that I was one of the luckiest chicks on earth - to have had a man in my life who taught me so many life lessons and who loved me unconditionally...what more could anyone want? I no longer deny my belief in God and suddenly, I have a yearning to be close to my Cathedral again.

When I think about my Cathedral, I feel a sense of peace, a sense of awe, and I feel close to the things that have always been important to me (but you know, time/space sometimes makes you forget what those are). If I lived in Fort Wayne, I'd be right back there - singing in choir, attending mass (mostly) weekly but unfortunately, I don't live there anymore and now, I have to find somewhere else to continue the Catholic girl traditions.

St. Mary's Catholic Church

St. Mary's Catholic Church

1101 Lafayette Street
Fort Wayne, IN 46803
(260) 424-8231

Photo Credits: Argil Shock

I'm having a difficult time writing this today.

When I went searching for some photographs to use for this entry, I came across many that were related to 1993 fire. silence

You know how sometimes, you intellectually know things but emotionally, you push it back so far in your mind, that you can sometimes fool yourself into thinking that some tragic event really didn't happen?

I think I did that with the fire.

That day - along with events like The Challenger Explosion, 9/11, and the death of my grandfather - are forever etched in the core of my soul. They were pivotal events that changed me - just like earlier generations were affected by the depression or the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

So this memory today - gosh - it'll be all over the map. It's difficult for me to look at any picture of St. Mary's now, and not have a wave of emotions that range from complete happiness and joy (one moment) and then sadness (boy - those tears came FAST) and anger (why did this have to happen?!).

Like many of you FW'ers, I was born and raised Catholic. I have a ton of Catholic-related memories. I was baptised and married at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. I attended CCD classes and then eventually attended full time school at St. Therese.

My mother's side of the family lived and breathed the Catholic ways in downtown Fort Wayne during the 60's, 70's and 80's.

My grandfather and great-grandmother (even though they were members of Cathedral) enjoyed attending all of the downtown churches, so if I happened to be spending time with them on one of those days where they had the inclination to attend mass (and as you know - that was not just isolated to Sunday's), I usually went along with them.

Of course as a wee youngster, I didn't really understand church much. I was pretty irritated by having to sit still, and, I didn't understand why I couldn't read the funny words in the book or why I wasn't allowed to get up and parade around the church like all of the other people.

I was an obedient child and didn't ask - I just did. I learned the rituals of standing and sitting, and in a very short period of time, I knew exactly when the kneeler was supposed to go down and when the adults would start roaming around. I also knew when I could let myself be distracted by the intricate detailing of the church. I would stare at a window or a ledge and I would wonder things like:

• how big were the arrowheads that were used to do all the cutting and dicing of this stuff?
  


• how many people had to stand on top of each other in order to get that piece of glass up there?

I blame the arrowhead thoughts on my visit to a museum and my human pyramid scenario on the circus :).

I don't remember the first exact time that my grandpa took me to St. Mary's. Often, I would get Cathedral and Mary mixed up. They were in close proximity to each other and they were both grand, sweeping, architectural landmarks.

Where I could distinguish the two was within the interior of the church. St. Mary's was huge - gi-normous (and yes - Cathedral was too - but in a different way). Naturally, its architecture fascinated me. But in particular, it was the dark - gothic nature of the wood and the shape of the windows that held my attention - especially when I had to wait for grandpa or great-grandma to get back to the pew (you know - they were parading around - communion as I later learned it to be) . I was never scared by its grandeur or darkness. Its oldness and formality automatically made me feel right at home. And that smell. How do you describe that smell? It was old but endearing. Comforting and familiar...but special.

St. Mary's was just one place of many in Fort Wayne, where everybody seemed to know everybody. And you know what? That never struck me as strange. And I guess the reason I bring this up is that one of the charms of Fort Wayne for me - even from the very youngest age - was that the city seemed big in space, but small and homey when it came to relationships.

You can say Father O'Connor and immediately - everybody knew who you were talking about. You can mention the Soup Kitchen and automatically, people are reminded of the fact that in Fort Wayne, being down on your luck didn't mean you had to go hungry. You can mention the fire, and people will tell you where they were when it happened and how shocked and saddened they were.

Since the (physical) church I knew, no longer exists, I can't bring myself to go near the area. I know that the new church was built with a lot of love and that Father Tom used its re-building as a time of healing for the community. When all of that was going on, I had already moved to Indianapolis and that principle of out of site...out of mind... is probably why I'm still not over things.