As the junior cautiously placed each sacred accouterment in readiness for the seminary’s last school-wide mass, all Huicochea could think was that this would be the last Lord’s Prayer recited, the last communion received, the last hymn sung together as a congregation of faithful young men.
Nothing could go wrong, Huicochea thought. Not when so much already had.
In announcing that Quigley would close, the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Chicago said the concept of a high school seminary was obsolete. Few young men are being called to the priesthood in their teens, and even fewer priests are available to teach them.
A school that enrolled 1,300 students in the 1950s had only 183 students this school year. The number of priests who served as role models on the faculty had fallen from 50 to four. No longer a “priest factory,” Quigley had become a haven for boys who wanted an affordable education and a circle of friends with whom they could relate spiritually and intellectually.
Now that small cadre of students, whose sneakers will scuffle through the marble hallways for the last time this week, will scatter to different schools. A handful will continue to pursue the priesthood. Others will search for the close academic attention they left behind at Quigley, or its religious focus.
Wherever they go, they know they are losing the sense of fraternity that transcended race and class and characterized the historic seminary.
“When I went to Quigley I understood the word ‘united,'” Huicochea said.
The only moment Huicochea questioned becoming a priest was after hearing Quigley would close. Depressed, he took time off from his part-time job at Holy Name Cathedral to focus on the final swimming season. When he returned he found that Latino seminarians from Casa Jesus were now preparing the daily mass at the cathedral. There was no longer room for acolytes from Quigley.
But even at this low point, Huicochea looked up. He found inspiration in the memoirs of Pope John Paul II, who despite all odds never lost hope or his vocation. He also reflected on the biblical journey of Job.
With floppy hair and a preference for black T-shirts, Huicochea describes himself and many of his friends outside of Quigley as “emo,” a term used to describe a style with roots in punk and Goth.
“If you’re going to be a priest, you have to agree with different lifestyles,” he said. “I hang out with gay people, bisexual people, transgender people. They are God’s children. You have to learn how to respect them and understand them.”
Huicochea himself does not shy away from romance. He chooses to date so he will understand what celibacy will require of him and how relationships work, so he can counsel couples later. Quigley never discouraged dating; in fact, juniors and seniors took dates to the spring social every year, which they called prom.
“I really want to know what I’m aiming for and what God wants me to do,” Huicochea said. “When I think about it and I go home and I pray, literally I hear God saying ‘Hey, this is the right path for you, kid. Go for it.'”
At 17, Huicochea is an exception at today’s Quigley. Martin Graham McCue, a 1969 graduate who became vice principal of the school 30 years later, said the rector used to invite students into his office each year and ask them if they still wanted to become a priest.
If the answer was yes, the reply was: “Have a nice day. Good luck.” If the answer was no, it was: “Where do you want your records sent?”
In those days, “there were more kids asked to leave Quigley or who chose to leave than guys that graduated,” McCue said.
It was during his senior year that McCue, who had genuinely wanted to be a priest, discovered teaching.
“To me, teaching was what Jesus did,” he said. “I thought of teaching as a wonderful way to live out service to God and priestlike in its own way. I was also able to be married and have children. It seemed like a pretty good life and it has been.”
As more men made the discovery that they did not have to be priests to be devout Catholics, the numbers at Quigley and other seminaries began to decline. This month, Cathedral Preparatory Seminary in the Diocese of Brooklyn will become the only full-time high school seminary in the nation.
Place of connection
A larger trend in society also took a toll, said Rev. Thomas Baima, provost of Mundelein Seminary.
“It’s not that we’re not training men for the priesthood anymore,” Baima said. “It’s just that the decision is coming much later in life. It used to be that high school juniors and seniors were thinking about getting married in a year or so. There is a correlation. Men seem to ask the vocation question about priesthood about the same time their peer group is getting engaged to be married.”
In 1990 Cardinal Joseph Bernardin closed Quigley’s brother campus on the South Side and redefined the main facility at Rush and Chestnut Streets as less of a priest factory and more of a school where boys could figure out what God wanted of them.
In time, the school became a destination for children whose families normally could not afford private school, but could afford Quigley, which offered numerous scholarships.
The students were “usually kids who had some sense of individuality,” McCue said. “You find a lot who are the only kids from their parish. They all come down here needing to make a connection, make a buddy.”
For Francisco Gonzalez, who had to catch a 5:40 a.m. train each day from Michigan City to Chicago, Quigley offered a fresh start far away from his difficult junior-high years.
He found a tight-knit clan of friends who gave him the stability he needed when his parents separated last year.
But Quigley wasn’t isolated from the real world, either. When Gonzalez persuaded a classmate to turn himself in for selling drugs last year, other students held the decision against him. Still embarrassed, he looks forward to starting anew somewhere else next year.
His classmate Joe Leonard does not. The typical high school jock who isn’t typical at Quigley, Leonard plays soccer, basketball and baseball with hopes of one day reaching the major leagues.
“One more year is all I wanted,” the junior said recently. His father, Brian, a graduate of Quigley South, tried to give him that. With the blessing of Cardinal Francis George, Leonard and other determined parents launched an effort to keep Quigley open. Unable to guarantee financial backing beyond three years, the parents finally agreed to give up and ease their sons’ transition to new schools.
Test of faith
Debbie Green braced herself for what might happen next. The closing of Quigley meant more than just another rough transition for her son, Sean, who was almost kicked out of Quigley as a freshman but gradually improved in the school’s intimate environment. It was yet another test of the family’s faith.
Two priests at their parish, Our Lady of the Snows, had been accused of improprieties. Rev. Daniel Holihan, who served at the parish school from 1979 to 1990, was removed from ministry in 2002 over sexual-abuse allegations. Last year, Rev. Robert Wielosinski was charged with stealing more than $211,000 from the congregation.
In the end, the family decided to continue with Catholic education. Next year, Sean Green wants to join Joe Leonard at Mt. Carmel High School, but may end up at St. Laurence High School in Burbank instead.
Leonard said every final athletic contest at Quigley has resembled a funeral. The last basketball game, baseball game and chess tournament.
But God works in mysterious ways, Leonard noted. Mt. Carmel is a baseball powerhouse and may heighten his chances of being spotted by scouts.
On Friday, Cardinal George addressed Quigley’s 36 graduating seniors during a private mass. Most of the rest of the students will continue at Catholic high schools, including about 50 at De La Salle Institute.
Time of transition
There, Brother Michael Quirk, the school’s president, launched a Quigley transitional program that he hopes will become a seminary track. For three years the Quigley transfers will remain together for Latin and theology classes and go on a special retreat. Parish priests will be asked to volunteer as spiritual directors.
Rev. Peter Snieg, Quigley’s rector, said he spent a good part of the spring semester writing recommendation letters for new high schools as well as colleges. It gave him time to reflect.
“It’s a beautiful time for me to put down in words what I see in these people,” he said.
mbrachear@tribune.com
