It's time for Newark Archbishop Myers to be removed

The Canessa Commentary

By Kevin Canessa Jr.

Myers

After the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles released the files of more than 150 priests accused of sexual abuse, I sifted through about 20 of them. I couldn’t help but wonder whether any lessons were learned by Roger Cardinal Mahoney’s decades of inaction, covering up for priests, trying to avoid the police and more.

And then, I turned to The Star-Ledger on Sunday — on nj.com — and read the absolutely unbelievable. 

The Rev. Michael Fugee, accused and admitted child groper, was being appointed to a prestigious archdiocesan position — one that will oversee the formation and educational opportunities afforded seminarians.

In 2001, he told police he inappropriately grabbed the crotch of a boy while in a Bergen County parish. 

He was convicted in a court of law — found guilty — but because of a technicality, the conviction was overturned. 

But let’s make no mistake here — the man admitted his guilt. And no technicality could or will ever negate that reality. He admitted to a “moment of arousal” when he touched the genitals of a pre-pubescent teenage boy.

As part of his agreement with the courts — didn’t matter his conviction was overturned — he is required to have no contact, none whatsoever, with children.

This all came down in 2001.

And yet, it’s obvious the Archbishop of Newark, John J. Myers, seems to have forgotten that. And he’s forgotten this priest, regardless of what the courts say, is a predatory monster.

Fast-forward to 2009. He was assigned to a hospital as a chaplain.

What a shocker here — Myers never told the hospital admins.

It wasn’t until someone told the hospital powers-that-be that Fugee was removed from the chaplaincy.

Lest we forget — there are children in hospitals, and is there any doubt that he had contact with kids while working there?

And now this. A prestigious archdiocesan position.

It may not require him to have contact with kids, but for the love of God, could Myers, who appointed Fugee to this position, be more tone deaf? Could he be more arrogant? Could he, frankly, be any more stupid?

Here’s what Myers said with this appointment without actually saying it: “So what if one of our priests touches boys. We’ll just give him a promotion of sorts and put him in a position of honor.”

It’s as disgusting as anything Myers has done in his 12-year reign of terror as Newark’s archbishop. And I simply don’t have the time to list them here — it would take hundreds of pages and hours to write them all.

But it simply confirmed something I knew the day we learned he’d replace the last archbishop, the now-retired Theodore Cardinal McCarrick — and that is that Myers has no business running a dollar store, let alone a flock of around 1 million Catholics.

Not only should Fugee immediately be removed from this position, it’s time for Myers to go, too. For far too long, he’s ruined everything he’s touched. He’s mismanaged the priest-abuse scandal here — and, for that matter, in Peoria, Ill., his former diocese — in as bad a manner as Mahony has in Los Angeles.

He’s never really wanted to be in Newark, and quite frankly, this writer never wanted him here either. And yet, he’s lasted, shockingly, as long as he has.

Pick up the pen, Myers. Write the letter to the holy father. Tell him you’re ready to leave the archdiocese.

And do it now.

Because if you don’t, lord knows how many more lives — and families — you’ll ruin.

You’ve had too many chances to do that already.

And if past history — recent history — says anything, there’s no doubt you’ll strike again with something stupid, inane and outrageous. 

Sooner than later.

Click here to read Fugee's statement to police from 2001.

I believe in second chances – even third and fourth chances – but not for Penn State

By Kevin Canessa Jr.
The Canessa Corner

Tuesday, 17 July 2012 – 

I've lived a life filled with ups and downs. I've wronged people, and I've been wronged. I've asked for second chances – even third and fourth chances – and I've granted the same to others as well. Lord knows, I've survived because of those chances granted me. But there's one spot – one place, one sport, one incident – where I just cannot see granting a second chance. And though I won't be popular among some of its alums (some are friends, some are former students), I just cannot see granting a second chance to Penn State University after the findings of former F.B.I. Director Louis Freeh.

Let me take a step back first.

Former F.B.I. Director Louis Freeh

I really like Freeh. I always have, going back to when it was first announced, I guess in 1993, that the North Bergen, N.J., native was being tapped by President Bill Clinton to lead the nation's top law-enforcement agency. Hell, it's not often one gets to claim the F.B.I.'s director was born in the same city [Jersey City] and comes from the very same county. So yes, I am biased. I like Freeh and I find him to be one of the greatest law-enforcers of a generation.

So it should come as no shock that while I was astounded by what I read, I found it refreshing someone really got to the core of what happened at Penn State with former and disgraced coach Jerry Sandusky.

And when he got to the bottom of things, despite denials from the Paterno family, we learned what we all suspected – that Joe, the patriarch of the family, of Penn State, of Penn State football – was grossly negligent and did hardly enough to help the young boys entrusted to the care of the monster that was and is Sandusky.

One of the reasons, among many, that I decided to no longer teach at Catholic schools – I did so for seven years of my life – and one of the reasons I completely divorced myself from the Catholic Church in general was the way it handled the priest sex-abuse crisis of the early 2000s. Of course, the crisis had long been prevalent, having started decades upon decades before everything really spun out of control. But I was there in the early 2000s. I saw first-hand how the crisis was handled.

And folks, it was abysmal.

What was most disturbing about it all – and this clearly happened at Penn State, too – was that if I, as a teacher, witnessed, first-hand, a colleague of mine, engaged in any sort of sexual abuse and sexual activity with a minor, a student, by policy, I was not allowed to contact the police or the proper authorities on my own. Instead, as it seems happens all too often in large institutions, teachers who witnessed or who were aware of the sexual abuse of a minor were, by policy, only permitted to tell a school chief – like the principal, headmaster, dean or in parish schools, the pastor. That person, then, would be responsible for bringing the news and details to the authorities.

You see, this was PRECISELY what caused these sex-abuse scandals to spiral out of control in the first place – and clearly, the same at Penn State. The men and women entrusted with the responsibility for reporting such news properly didn't do that in so many cases. In the church, these so-called leaders, who failed abysmally, instead often swept allegations under the proverbial rug. In many cases, when priests were involved – which was the majority of the time – they'd often be transferred, or simply admonished. But they'd often remain in ministry.

And they often struck again.

I couldn't understand why if I saw, with my own two eyes, some sort of abuse, I couldn't bring it to police on my own. For the love of god, if I saw a child/teen being abused, not only would I do everything within my power to immediately stop what I saw, I'd be prone to immediately reporting it to law enforcement. I couldn't wait. When kids are being abused, there's absolutely no room for waiting.

The abuse needs to be halted immediately – and regardless of what the policy is, it needs to be reported to the cops immediately.

Immediately.

Not when the principal feels it's time.

Not when the pastor thinks the time's right.

Not when, say, the president of Penn State University thinks it's time.

Immediately.

And because of institutional policies – and because he wanted to protect his own reputation, the school's reputation, the football program's reputation – Paterno kept his mouth shut, deafeningly so. And he says he didn't quite understand what was going on?

What, in the name of the lord, wasn't understandable about what former coach Mike McQueary said he saw in the showers? What wasn't understandable about what numerous kids said happened to them between 1998 and 2002?

Jerry Sandusky's mug, taken after
he was finally incarcerated.

To say or believe Paterno was doing anything but covering up the truth for PR's sake is disingenuous. He was fully aware Sandusky's behavior was criminal and monsterous. And he sad by, idly – and not only didn't he stop it all from happening, he allowed the monster to take his prey, innocent young boys, on to the Penn State campus to rape them. To sodomize them. To rip their very innocence away like very few others ever could or would.

He preferred image over justice.

He chose institution over humanity.

And yet somehow, the statue on "his" campus lists him as a humanitarian?

Joseph Paterno changed lives for many of his players. He turned boys into men. He sent some to the National Football League. He made poor kids, rich men. He gave a lifetime of loyalty in ways very few others have or could.

But he also could have stopped so much carnage. He could have saved kids from having lifetimes of pure, unadulterated hell. But instead, he turned his back. He looked the other way. He did the wrong thing.

A statue paying hommage to Joe Paterno on campus.

Now, just about the only right thing Penn State can do at this point is to tear down that statue to Mr. Paterno.

Because if they leave it up, they're still saying they care more about history and image than they do those poor kids.

And when the history books get updated, let's face it, all that good will and should be wiped away by his awful inactions over his once-good actions.

Because aside from taking a life, there's nothing more abhorrent than taking away the innocence of a young child.

And Paterno's inaction did just that.

And that, sad to say, is unforgivable and unworthy of a second chance.

Just ask those poor kids – the victims.

They deserved a chance to get away from Sandusky, but never could – and never will for as long as they live.

The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the writer. Follow Kevin Canessa Jr. on Twitter @kevincanessa. Click here to send feedback directly to Kevin.