May 15, 2014
McDermott Boys: They’re what God wants us to be
By Rev. James Cuddy, O.P. ’98
Just when I think I’ve seen it all, something happens that makes my jaw drop and stops me in my tracks. That’s exactly what happened to me on a Thursday afternoon in January when I stepped into St. Dominic Chapel.
To set the scene, I was in touch with the McDermott Hall director on Wednesday night, and he told me the most heartbreaking story one could ever hear. Domingo, the ABM employee assigned to the residence hall for many years, suffered the tragic loss of his 17-year-old daughter earlier in the day. [ABM is a building maintenance and facility services company.]
While she had been sick, her death was unexpected and left some of the hall’s residents in a state of shock. They asked if we could offer a special Mass for her eternal rest and for the consolation of Domingo and his family. I was moved by their thoughtfulness, and we scheduled the liturgy for Thursday afternoon. And that’s when it happened.
At the appointed time, I climbed the stairs to the chapel, pulled open the door, and stepped into the sanctuary. And I froze, motionless, as I surveyed the scene before me. While I had been expecting 20 or 30 students to attend the Mass, there were nearly 500 guys sitting in the pews in total silence. Take a second to read that last sentence again. 500 guys.
These were almost entirely McDermott Boys — residents past and present — all in attendance to support a mourning father and his family. And while a lot of those guys are not exactly regular Mass-goers, it didn’t matter; they saw that Domingo (an honorary McDermott Boy if ever there was one) was suffering, and so they jumped into the pews.
Adding to the wonder of the whole thing was that Domingo surprised the group by being in attendance at the Mass. There was something fitting about the seating arrangement: his family was by his side, and there were hundreds of residents who literally had his back in the midst of unspeakable grief. Domingo got to see with his own eyes the love and support that he has from the young men who have called McDermott home.
Still not enough to give you chills? Consider this: after the Mass had ended, a bunch of the residents formed an impromptu receiving line and waited their turn to give Domingo a handshake and hug. In solemn silence, they approached the man who they described as the backbone of the McDermott Hall community and offered him a quick embrace.
It’s easy to look at Providence College and see its faults. There are plenty of areas in which we need to grow, both as individuals and as a community. The road to becoming the place that we want to be — that God wants us to be — can seem long and daunting. But every now and then, you have an experience like the McDermott Mass and you see what Providence College is all about. You have an experience that, while not blotting out our imperfections, nevertheless restores your hope for the future. And something like that can stop even the most hardened Dominican in his tracks.
Rev. James Cuddy, O.P. ’98 is the College’s chaplain.
