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COMMENTARY
“ Once There Was a Parish Rich”
Doraville is spit of low-cost apartments and homes jutting
north from the City of Atlanta bisecting two affluent
northern suburbs. Run down industrial buildings hug the
railroad right-of-way. In 1991, the Archdiocese of Atlanta
bought an old warehouse for the
use of the burgeoning Latino community.
During its best years, Our Lady of the Americas Hispanic
Mission, was the center of Latino life in the Chamblee/Doraville
area. Located next to the railroad tracks, a transit
station and bus depot, “la mission” served
as parish, social services provider and
community center. The mission provided, at one time or
another, without ever charging a fee, a health clinic,
legal services, job training and job placement, English
and computer classes, a sports program and homeless shelter.
There were always food, clothes and a
shower available. Any civic, health or law enforcement
official who wanted to contact the Hispanic community
had only to make one stop. It also was a haven for
homeless Americans who knew they could always find some
necessities and a kind word.
This was in addition to the regular parish work of mass,
spiritual counseling, religious education, baptisms,
and weddings. And it was all done by one priest, Fr.
Carlos Garcia-Carreras, S. J., and a paid staff of four.
Atlantans were so impressed by his personal
sanctity and dedication, there were always sufficient
volunteers and donations to keep the place running. Four
close-by prosperous parishes made generous quarterly
donations to keep the lights turned on and the building
maintained.
After Carlos left, the diocesan priests who took over
gradually decreased the social services. Secular and
governmental agencies and the new evangelical
store-front churches stepped in to take up the slack.
When Archbishop John F. Donoghue left the archdiocese
with over $100 million in debt for new schools to educate
well-to-do suburban children and a $50 million retirement
complex, which included apartments for himself and some
priests, parishes were forced to cede 23% of their income
to the archdiocese. The mission – which was never
able to tithe very much – was closed last May.
Archbishop Wilton D. Gregory bought a vacant Seventh
Day Adventist church fifteen miles away in the next county
that has also seen a tremendous growth in the
Latino population and named it Our Lady of the Americas.
The new church was greatly needed but the pastor frequently
reminded his congregation that they were expected to
be self-supporting and needed to repay the archdiocese.
In Georgia, undocumented immigrants cannot obtain a
legal drivers license. Now there is no Catholic Church
available to the thousands of members of the former community
who walk or use bicycles or public transportation. The
other four parishes valiantly stepped up their bilingual
services, but like the new church, are only accessible
by car. The message, of course, is that only Catholics
who can contribute financially are valued.
Sadly, this scenario has been repeated throughout the
United States with the closing of a multitude of inner
city parishes and facilities. But for me, it’s
personal. I lost my family and am now just another homeless
Catholic. Betty Clermont, Vice-chair, VOTF-Atlanta
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