[Acrylic-bob]

I remember Fr. Stack. Terrifying man. The only person I have ever met who could silence a playground full of screaming kids just by walking into it. As an Altar Boy I had the unenviable task of serving at his Masses. It's no wonder I am a nervous wreck now. Still, that's Jesuits for you. The drunken Priest that Lettie referred to could have been either Fr. Morrissey or Fr. Houlahan both were quite fond of the bottle. My mother had a crush on Fr. Houlahan, but then, so did quite a few other women. You could never accuse my mother of being original.

It was sad to see the old building go and it is a pity that another use could not be found for it. still I suppose that it is better to pull it down rather than have it turned into a mosque.

Oddly enough, I never remember it being a cold church, even in the depths of winter.
Does anyone remember those marathon church processions that were held in the summer. There are photographs of me published in The Observer dressed in my cassock in the front line of the procession. My grandmother, a devout catholic, was so proud of me.

does anyone know what happened to all the parephenalia, plate, banners etc. Or were they all destroyed.

I managed to snaffle a couple of small pieces of stained glass as a keepsake.