At St. Mark's, relief came in FedEx package
At 9:40 Tuesday morning, the church bells at St. Mark's in Dorchester were ringing the hymn "Mother Dear Oh Pray for Me" and a handful of puffy-eyed parishioners were on the front porch of the rectory chain smoking.
Inside, a crowd of about 40 was gathered. Older men and women sat stone-faced in chairs along the perimeter of the front room. In the back room near a spread of doughnuts, a group of schoolchildren chattered nervously about not wanting to go to St. Ann's next year. Other adults paced around gripping mugs of coffee.
Their parochial vicar, the Rev. Paul Ring, dressed in a Fatima golf tournament polo and khakis, whisked through and quipped that he felt like he was at a wake.
Around the city on Tuesday, Catholic churchgoers anticipated letters telling them whether their church would be "suppressed" in a series of closings throughout the Boston Archdiocese. Sixty-five churches ended up getting bad news -- delivered around 10 a.m. via Federal Express.
At St. Mark's, church secretary Judy Greeley propped up a pad of paper at 9:50 a.m. and began listing churches she had heard were spared: St. Brendan's, St. Peter's and St. Ambrose in Dorchester; Gate of Heaven in South Boston; and St. Thomas More in Braintree.
"Some of the choices they're making is not what they asked for. If they wanted diversity, we have it. If they wanted finances, we have that, too," said Carol Nesti, a teacher at St. Mark's school. "I'm trusting the archbishop right now. I have to trust that he's a good man. I'm sure he will see."
June McGough, 71, remained mostly silent. "There's not many words when you're thinking about this," she said. "When you hear of all the others, it makes you very nervous."
Helen Delaney L'Heureux, 67, was fixated on the inevitable.
"They have every record of mine here," she said of the list of sacraments she has received at St. Mark's since birth. "There's only one thing left to go."
Judy Bell, a church lector who has been a parishioner at St. Mark's for 63 years, said she struggled through her readings at morning Mass. "I just wish it would hurry," she said of the fateful
There was a false alarm around 10 a.m.: a dump truck. By 10:10 a.m., more than a dozen parishioners were huddled on the porch.
"I'm feeling pretty good, even given the number of parishes [that will remain open in the area,]" said Ring. "This is very indicative of the spirit of the parish. We always come together at moments of challenge and crisis."
When he woke up Tuesday, Ring said, he felt nervous. "But it was a Christmas morning kind of nervous -- like waiting for a good present."
And then Grace Downs, 67, who had been standing alone at the bottom of the steps clutching a balled-up tissue, fell into tears. "Oh, Gracie, don't start or we all will," said a parishioner. Greeley beckoned her up for a hug.
Margaret Mary O'Sullivan, 11, who stood alongside her mother and grandmother, remained calm, although she said she had one big concern: "One of my really good friends is going to move back to Ireland if we close."
At 10:15 a.m., Ring started to lose his cool a bit. "He knows how to get here, right?" he asked.
"He makes it every other week for payroll," Greeley responded.
"He'll probably turn back when he sees all the people," joked Margaret's grandmother, Marion Walsh Dalton.
A few minutes later, the package arrived.
Ring signed for it and the crowd swarmed together inside.
" 'This will not be an easy week,' " he began, reading the letter aloud. Then he anxiously skimmed down to the good part -- that their parish would be saved.
McGough was elated.
"Now we need to work hard to make sure that we can continue on like we have," she said. "Keeping open is not anything -- keeping alive is what it's meant to be."
But the celebration didn't last long. As the gathering tapered off, a group of 14 filed into the church to pray for those whose churches were less fortunate.
"Not everybody's getting good news today," said Nesti.
"Open the doors!" shouted Greeley.
"Ring those bells!" Nesti chimed in.
