A Birdwatcher's Flight

This is a reprint from Windhover's second quarter issue of 2005.

Some men captivate you by the power of their words. Some attract you by the strength of their minds. Few draw you by their mere presence. And Charlie’s presence is both power and strength. A fellow scholastic, on seeing Fr. Charlie basking in the morning sunshine, confides, “ I would want to age and grow old in the Society [of Jesus].”

Even at the age of eighty-five, Charlie infects Jesuits with his serenity. His calmness is contagious. A former novice remembers him as the “man with a red cap strolling at Doyle’s walk – ever constant in his rhythmical cadence. He seems to be undisturbed by any pressing concern. He seems to be seized by his present moment.” The former novice adds, “there is so much gentleness in this man’s heart.” I wonder what makes him such. Probably, it has something to do with the sparrows or the swallows.

When I was in the Novitiate, Charlie was known in the community as the Birdwatcher. It was Scholastic Terence Ang from whom I first heard that endearment. He easily identified those winged creatures. And Charlie knew them by their names.

His love for the birds started quite early in his life. He grew up in a country place – Ant Hills in Pennsylvania where there were lots of, as Charlie himself described, “fields, trees and flowers around” – a good nesting place for the sparrows and swallows and their broods. The naming of the birds was a “family interest.” Charlie shared that, “several members of the family were really interested… they knew a lot about birds… we would be up and walking together… someone would call out, ‘There is a sparrow hawk!’ Then, we would hear the sparrow hawk and see it fly. So I began to identify the birds…”

Like his vocation to the Society, someone called out, not for crying out loud but through letters. At an early age, Charlie wanted to become a priest. “There were good diocesan priests in our place,” Charlie observed. But it was clear to him that he desired to become a religious. He did not study in any Jesuit school. He finished his primary studies at the Mount Aloysius Academy and his secondary studies at the Altoona Catholic High School. He did not know of any Jesuit priest at that time. But his elder brother’s best friend was a certain Bill Rively. Better yet, Bill Rively, nSJ. Bill had been sending letters to Charlie’s family regarding his life in the novitiate. From Bill, he learned of the Jesuits and the activities novices do in the novitiate. His interest in the Society began and at the age of seventeen, he entered the novitiate of St. Isaac Jogues in Wernersville, Pennsylvania.

Charlie and Bill became good friends. So when Bill was sent to the missions the correspondence between the two continued. Charlie might have been touched and edified with what he read. He expressed his intent to go to the mission. In August of 1941, he reached the shores of the Philippines to do his philosophy studies in Sacred Heart Novitiate in Novaliches. The war broke out. Charlie and most of the American missionaries were sent to Los Baños as prisoners of war. There were stories about the prison camp that had seen print but for Charlie all he had to say about it was this: “it had its consolations and desolations.”

After the war, he went back to Pennsylvania to do his regency in Scranton Preparatory School. For two years, he taught Religion, Latin, English and French. Then he studied theology at Woodstock. In June of 1949, he was ordained to the priesthood. He did his Tertianship in Auriesville, New York.

Seven years after the war, he returned to the Philippines. The first few years, he shaped the minds of college students from Ateneo de Naga and Zamboanga. He taught them Language, Philosophy and Theology. He even moderated the Dramatic Society in Naga. In the years that followed, he formed the hearts of our young men. He taught Latin grammar to the Novices. He was even made the Director of Formation of our Jesuit Brothers for the whole Philippine Province. Then, Fr. De la Costa assigned Charlie as the Master of Novices. He was, in the words of one of his former novices, “quite liberal.” “I was just,” he said, “continuing the programs Mike had set in place.”

In the years that followed, he touched and healed the souls of those who came to him. As a man of the Spiritual Exercises, he facilitated retreats. As a fellow Jesuit, he is our spiritual father. “Thank God for the gift of faith,” Charlie would say to those who would go for confession to him. I think this is where his power gets its source. Charlie’s strength is something that can not be stolen. To the God who notices even the single sparrow that falls to the ground, I thank Him for the gift of Charlie, a man of faith. A man whose deep trust in the Lord is articulated by his mere presence. It exudes and overflows. And it touches the hearts of those who see him.

Charlie died last Wednesday, 25th of April 2007, at two in the morning. We lost a good man here on earth. But we thank God for the gift of faith, heaven gained a saint.