McCord to be back again with Fr. Mc Manus on Capitol Hill
CAPITOL HILL. Wednesday, January 1, 2020. In May 2009, the President of the Capitol Hill-based Irish National Caucus, Fermanagh-born Fr. Sean McManus, brought legendary victims’ campaigner Raymond McCord, Sr. to Washington, DC, to highlight the case of McCord’s son, Raymond, Jr. who was murdered on November 9, 1997, outside of Belfast. Because those associated with the murder were British Government agents and police informers, the murder has been covered up.
Fr. McManus escorted Mr. McCord around the halls of Congress introducing him to many key Members of Congress—and obtaining a commitment from the then Chairman of the House Subcommittee on Human rights, Congress Bill Delahunt, to hold a Congressional Hearing on the murder and cover-up of young Raymond. And, then, Fr. Mc Manus brought him and Mrs. McCord (young Raymond’s mother) back for the Congressional Hearing which was held on October 22, 2009 —http://www.irishnationalcaucus.org/raymond-mccord-oral-and-written-testimony-to-u-s-congress-october-22-2009/
That Congressional Hearing, together with the report by the Police Ombudsman for Northern Ireland, powerfully exposed to the world British government collusion in the brutal murder of Raymond McCord, Jr. (Operation Ballast: investigation into the circumstances surrounding the murder of Raymond McCord Jr. Nuala O’Loan. January 22, 2007. https://www.policeombudsman.org/Investigation-Reports/Historical-Reports/Operation-Ballast-investigation-into-the-circumsta).
And now, again, the Irish National Caucus is bringing Raymond McCord, Sr. back to Capitol Hill —Sunday, February 9 until Sunday, February 16, 2020—to be escorted around Congress by Fr. McManus.
The alliance of a Belfast Protestant Unionist and a well-known Fermanagh priest— who has for years been raising in the United States Congress the issue of British collusion in murder and human rights violations— made compelling impact on Congress. Fr. McManus simply says:” Ecumenism and reconciliation are at their truest and best when Protestants and Catholics not only pray together but also work together for social justice. One of my favorite quotes is from the American Protestant Scripture scholar Walter Brueggemann, ‘In Biblical faith, the doing of justice is the primary expectation of God.’ And the official teaching of the Catholic Church is:’… Action on behalf of justice [is] a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel…and [a constitutive dimension] of the Church’s mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation.’ (Justice in the World. 1971)”
Mr. McCord, Sr. said: “The Unionist politicians, including David Trimble and the Rev. Ian Paisley, refused to meet me or speak out after the murder of my son, and they both ridiculed and rejected the Ombudsman’s report. (Paisley did meet me briefly nine years after my son’s death). The two leaders of Unionism refused to meet a Unionist father whose son was murdered (as does the current DUP leader, Arlene Foster). They didn’t even offer sympathy or support or visit our house or attend young Raymond’s funeral. They betrayed my son, family, and my community. In fact, the only well-known person to come to my aid was Fr. McManus.”
Mr. Mc Cord concluded: “I don’t want pity. I want truth and justice. Every impediment to my quest for justice is because of the continuing cover-up by the State. Every obstacle created by the State causes me more delays. Young Raymond has never even had an inquest in over 22 years since his death. The Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) and the State—if they can get away with it— have no intention of bringing those responsible to face justice. That’s how Northern Ireland is for many victims. But I am not quitting; I will never cease my campaign for justice for my son and for all victims from both communities. And that’s the message I am bringing to Congress, with the help of Fr. McManus. I am deeply grateful for his enduring support, and for that of Congress, and of Irish-Americans in general. And let me stress this: Achieving justice for victims, also, greatly strengthens the Irish peace process.” END.
It’s amazing how the experience of Christmas changes with age. I’m sure this is true whatever your religious holiday tradition is, but I can speak with authority only about Christmas. When we’re little, it’s all magic: Santa, reindeer, a gift-laden sleigh soaring through the stars, bounding from rooftop to rooftop, the purifying snow, festive dinners, families visiting other families, people being nicer. Since at that age our whole lives are pretty new to us, strings of bright colored lights throughout the neighborhood, a tree inside the house, eggnog … everything is special. We even learn a Christmas-specific vocabulary, like carol, Scrooge, manger, Advent, creche, Rudolph, wreath, Bethlehem … words you never hear but in December. We’re at the age then when we have in abundance the sine qua non of the season: faith. We believe, not just in Santa, the Christ child, the trumpeting angels and the Three Kings, we believe in goodness and in gentleness. We believe that being good earns rewards. We’re taught, by nuns in my case, that believing in Christmas is as old as the hills, and that the Christmas message is peace on earth, joy to the world. “Do not be afraid,” the gospel writer Luke quotes the angel, “for behold, I bring you good news of great joy.” The author of “The Power of Positive Thinking,” Norman Vincent Peale, wrote that “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.” I think we first learn faith, the power to believe, at Christmas. Then, somewhere between one December and the next, inklings of doubt shade twinklings of light. We’re not sure there is a Santa Claus. We don’t understand how he, big as he is, could climb down the chimney, especially because there’s no fireplace in the apartment. How can his reindeer really fly? And as far as the child Jesus, how can God be a baby? We want to keep the faith, but our believing needs help. Enter the theology of Advent. Roughly from the Latin, “ad” and “venire” mean “to come.” Advent represents the coming, for Christians, the arrival of the Savior we had been hoping for. I think we first learn hope at Christmas. We need hope to fill in the gaps that grim reasonableness digs into our innocent faith. The whole Incarnation — God becoming Man — is essentially a personification of hope: Bethlehem’s hope of Jerusalem’s redemption. Having learned faith and hope, we grow still older, old enough to know that Christmas isn’t about getting, but giving; that it always was about giving, and welcoming, and that to truly celebrate the season we must think of others, our parents and grandparents, our siblings, our friends. Washington Irving, the New York writer, knew it. He said it was a “a season for kindling the fire for hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.” And so, I think that Christmas is when we first learn charity. Along the journey from Christmas to Christmas, we learn other things. Sadness comes into our lives. Disappointment. Poor health of ourselves or loved ones. Pain. Loss. We learn that the Incarnation we believe in makes our world blessed, but not free of tears. This will be my 70th Christmas. There’s more sadness in this one than others, more empty places around the table, more regrets, more sorrow. My brother Bill died last December, and grieving is said to be the worst in the second year, so this Christmas will be tough. Other loved ones are very ill, pains become harder to tolerate, doctors become more numerous, scans see more than they used to, and the list of prescriptions grows. I find I need the lessons learned on those first Christmases to strengthen my caroling voice. I guess we return to the essentials as we grow old. Things mean less. We refocus on the virtues and lessons we learned in the beginning. We practice, again, the faith and hope and charity that sustained us. We seek out friends and relatives to let them know how much they mean to us. Because even with faith, hope and charity, there’s one more Christmas lesson to learn. At some point in life, if we are truly blessed, we share Bob Hope’s view. “My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple,” he said. “Loving others.” May you all have a Christmas filled with love.
John O’Connell is a former executive editor of the Heralds.
BENEFIT FOR A BROTHER IN NEED The FDNY Hellenic Society, along with E-258/L-115, invite you to a fundraiser for Theo Mitritzikos of E-258 on Thursday, January 16, 2020, from 7:00 – 10:00 PM at Bourbon Street, located at 40-12 Bell Blvd, Bayside, NY. Open bar, hors d’oeuvres, buffet, DJ, and 50/50 Raffles for some great prizes and sporting events. $65 at the door. Event will be on the 2nd floor and rooftop. All profits will go to Theo and his family to help ease the financial burden. Theo is currently undergoing chemotherapy at Sloan Kettering.
PUTNAM COUNTY BLOOD DRIVE Join Putnam County members for the annual holiday Blood Drive at the Daniel O’Brien VFW Hall, 32 Gleneida Ave, (Rt.52) Carmel, NY on Friday, December 27, 2019, from 2:00 – 8:00 PM. For information, please call Paul Deleo at 347-408-6052 or Denis Hanrahan at 845-225-3048. Four and a half million Americans will need blood this year. One donation can save up to 3 lives. Most blood donations go to cancer patients with the balance going to trauma and surgical procedures. The need is unrelenting but the donations wane during the holiday season.
ANNUAL FDNY SKI RACES The 47th Annual FDNY Firefighters Ski Races at Hunter Mountain will take place on Tuesday, January 28, 2020. Proceeds will be donated to the NY Firefighters Burn Center Foundation. There will be a plaque dedication honoring Firefighter Steven Pollard, L-170, Firefighter Christopher Slutman, L-27, and Lieutenant Brian Sullivan, Sq-41. Trophies for each 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place Ski teams and Snowboard teams will be awarded along with many lottery prizes. Register your team online at www.Huntermtn.com ASAP to get the discounted fee. For additional information, contact Joe Jove 518-263-4023.
It is a cold night on December 24th 1971 as darkness has just fallen in Brooklyn. We are parked at Utica Ave and Ave N in what was up until three weeks ago a used car lot, but this night it is occupied by Christmas trees looking to be chosen to adorn some families living room. Mom is in the passenger seat of our Plymouth Station Wagon with baby Maryann on her lap( no car seat)after making her selection ,as my brother Michael and sister Eileen and myself are leaning against the fold down door in its rear. We stand there listening to Dad state his case as to why he was willing to pay $6 for a tree that was clearly marked $15. Money was especially tight this year in my house ,so Dad specifically waited til Christmas Eve to buy our tree because he knew that he would be able to haggle for a better price. My Dad handed the man $8 and then another $1 for the guy to wrap it and tie it onto the roof of the station wagon.
Dad is now on his back, down on the living room floor under the tree as Mom says just “a little bit to the right” (her very last comment was “a little bit to the left”) Ten minutes later after at least twenty “little bit here little bit there’s” Dad twists the three silver metal prongs as they piece the the trees stem and hold it into place and sturdy in the red and green metal tree stand. Two dinning room chairs immediately appear on each side of the tree and Michael and Eileen stand on them as they pass the tree light strands ( which took Dad 30 minutes to unravel from the year before and the things he said under his breath as he did it was not real Christmas like) to each other as Mom placed them just so. The bulbs were hung , the bunting (skirt)was placed under the tree and the Nativity scene was placed upon it . Michael places the Angel on top of the tree and Dad plugs in the lights. Now there is just one thing still missing…..the Tinsel! To me this was the best part of decorating our Christmas Tree. We would drape a handful in our left hand and throw the tinsel with our right hands , it seemed like 20 lbs of it would wind up covering our tree (the tinsel was lead based and had a very heavy feeling as you held it). The tree as always was magnificent as Moms eyes would tear up just a little bit as she looked it over
It is now just around 10 pm and there was another special happening that would soon be a part of this night. But before we get to that I ask Mom if it was alright if I could go down the block to my friend Eddie Corlonis house for a little bit because he was trying to explain to me something about him getting “seven fishes” for Christmas. Mom says ‘ OK but you better be back in this house by 11:15″ So being an Irish kid I am thinking he got a Fish Tank for Christmas and I was going to see his “seven fishes” swimming around in it. Boy was I surprised when I walked into his house and saw his whole family sitting around the house eating great plates of food . I looked at the fish tank which was already set up (Eddie really did get a tank for Christmas) and noticed it had only two fish in it. Mrs Corloni made me a plate and handed it to me and said welcome to “The Feast of the Seven Fishes”. Now everybody is eating fish and I see only two in the tank………I am a little nervous and to say the least, a little hesitant to eat whats on the plate! I whispered to Eddie “Are we eating the fish that was in your new fish tank?” Eddie bursts into to hysterical laughter and announces to everyone in the room my question which then they joined in the laughter as well. Mrs Corloni seeing me standing there confused ran over to me and hugged me as to shield me from the laughter as she yelled at everyone to stop laughing or get out of her house. Armando (Eddies Dad ) Sat me down and explained to me about The Feast of the Seven Fishes( I am pretty sure be bit a hole in his upper lip to keep from laughing as he did) as Mrs Corloni stood behind him scanning the room at her guests to make sure not one of them was laughing at me .God help them if they did!
It’s now 11:15 and run down the block back to my house. I can see that all the houses on my block have their Christmas Trees all lit up and decorated in the front window of thier homes,. Outside were strings of big yellow green red ., blue and orange bulbs strung around the windows. Pictures on plastic molds of Santas face along with Candy Canes and Dancing Reindeer were taped to the inside window . The inside doors wrapped in festive colors were all open and front storm doors were fogged from the heat inside the homes giving an almost frost like look to anyone passing by.
I come into my house and Mom says go upstairs and get dressed, and by the way ” There is a box on your bed you might as well open it tonight”
I fly up the stairs touching every third step I swing around the Bannister pole as I reach the top and enter my bedroom . Laid out on my bed was a Navy Doubled breasted sport coat ,a white turtle neck sweater and a tan pair of Bell Bottom slacks. On the floor was a box wrapped in shiny aluminum like paper , I tear it open …just what I wanted……all my friends had them……they were the coolest shoes ever………Chukka Boots.
I feel great because I know I look cool and Lori Cook Satriano will definitely notice me now (I had a crush on her ,she didn’t know) I was heading out to Midnight Mass. Yes I was 11 years old and I was leaving my house at 11:45 by myself (Michael and Eileen went with their own friends and Mom and Dad stayed home to prepare for Christmas morning) I am walking to Church as many of my neighbors doors are opening and they join in the procession at this late night hour. They are wearing new coats and scarfs and hats and feeling wonderful like I am in my Chukka Boots. . I can see the crowd gathered in front of Mary Queen of Heaven Church as I near and see all my friends and every kid from my neighborhood. All of stood in the back of the over packed Church and sung the hymns and celebrated the birth of Jesus. Lori did not see me nor did I see her .
Asd per Moms instructions I went right home after Mass . As I think back to that night ,I feel a sense of warmth . I enjoyed the Christmas Tree purchase and decorating, I learned that Italians make the best seafood on this planet from a loving family who lived down the block, I received a wonderful material gift (Chukka Boots) which proved to me that my Mom loved me ( the best gift ever)because she made sure that she got them for me and I got to join my neighborhood and stand in the back of a church watching some of the toughest guys I have ever known singing hymns about a child who was born in a manger.
Had Jesus been born in Brooklyn there would have been room for him in every home from Red Hook to Canarsie to Mill Basin to Bensonhurst to Midwood to Flatbush to Georgetown to Marine Park to Gravesend to Bergen Beach to Flatlands to Dyker Heights to Park Slope to Bedford Stuyvesant to Crown Heights …. he would not have been born in a Manger he would have been welcomed and loved and given whatever we had to make him comfortable. And if he was lucky enough to have been born in Mrs Corlonis house He would have loved the fish and would have been hugged with loving protecting arms of a woman who looked out for all children, Like all Booklyn Moms
Merry Christmas Brooklyn
I would just like to take a moment to thank each and every one who have read my stories and have written kind words and shared memories in return . It is my wish for you and yours to enjoy this wonderful Christmas Season and bask in the love that your families and friends offer you throughout the year. To all my Jewish friends I wish you all a Happy Chanukah and the same blessings
