13 Lives

by Michael Pawlowski

  Returning to his ultimate dream to be ordained, James completed the three year theology program and was ordained by Cardinal McGuigan in Toronto on June 30, 1947.

  That same summer following the Indian Independence Act of July 18, 1947, Reverend James volunteered to teach at the Darjeeling Mission in northern India. This was a school in the North Point community lodged between mountains in the Southern Himalayan Range. The community lay north of Bangladesh (East Pakistan at the time), and was about 100 kilometers from the Bhutan border to the east. Delhi was 1,400 ­kilometers to the west. The academic institution was established by the Jesuit Order in 1888 and remained committed to ensure excellent education and opportunities for young people. It was with much enthusiasm that Reverend James anticipated acceptance. Unfortunately, that was not the will of his superiors. The same internal ailments that affected his health less than a decade before were considered a significant obstacle to his wellbeing should he be stationed in a remote community without adequate emergency health care. Reverend James was returned to Loyola High School the following year where he became the school’s Vice Principal.

  While in that position, Reverend James completed his tertianship, which is a period set aside for spiritual retreat by a ­seminarian or priest to contemplate his complete commitment. Following that, Reverend James achieved his education degree, and was then assigned to St. Paul’s College in Winnipeg. He served that academic community for eleven years from 1952 to 1963. During that time, Reverend James also completed his Master of Arts degree.

  It was during his tenure at this college school that Reverend James employed his abilities in a multi-ethnic setting, addressing the various concerns and needs that could never be scripted before the morning sunrise. He remained teaching the initial year of high school providing a more than adequate introduction to the various stress factors that any young man would experience in those formative teenage years. Unfortunately school boards were still so committed to guaranteeing that no element of anxiety ever befell any grade school student. The task then fell upon the grade nine teacher to counsel and advise the students ­regarding tension they had never before experienced. The first impression of any student remained consistent: that grade nine teacher really cared.

  Reverend James was considered even more important by those students who were not part of the cultural majority, or who viewed themselves as not belonging with the rest. Although St. Paul’s College was a private boys’ school, not all of the student-population was white English speaking. Winnipeg demographics were significantly diverse with only 55% identifying themselves as English, Scottish or born-Canadian. Approximately 12% of the population was predominantly French-speaking. The ethnic communities included: Ukrainian, German, Italian, Polish, Irish and Filipino. With all of these nationalities, Reverend James was acquainted with their customs and expectations. He was prepared to assist them where he could.

  Then there was the aboriginal community whose numbers exceeded 10% of the city’s population. In Toronto, and to some extent in Montreal, their culture had been assimilated into the larger framework of the English-speaking population. However, in Winnipeg, there was a significant difference. There was definite reluctance to relinquish native identity. That tribal pride remained firm, urging aboriginal persons to never forsake their past. Reverend James had learned so much in Montreal and ­elsewhere in his personal development. Freely he accepted the challenge to accommodate all of the varying needs of these indigenous young men.

  Accordingly, Reverend James acquainted himself with Cree and Métis expressions. His attempts in their languages caused many to laugh. The fact that many of the aboriginal students were totally bilingual brought them closer to the virtues of their teacher. They affirmed that he was one of them especially in the ability to diminish life’s anxieties by unexpected moments of laughter.

  Communication and academic lessons were not his only interest when considering the students from the aboriginal communities. He actively supported the bursary program necessary to fund the tuition for native students. School uniforms were required, and no aboriginal student or any young man in need went without proper attire.

  Sports remained an after-school specialty. Reverend James was annually coaching football, or track teams. Of course there was also hockey. Needless to say, members of the hockey team shook their heads when Reverend James jokingly suggested they should don the jerseys of the Montreal Canadiens. Of course, if they said ‘yes’ then he wouldn’t have been jesting.

  The longer he taught aboriginal students the more and more he became involved with their interests. His concern was not just answered by prayers but rather in one major case by action. Reverend James was shocked that so many young girls and boys were being removed from their native communities based on the perception that these children would have a better education and life elsewhere. They were being dispatched throughout Canada, and also to the United States and even to Europe and Australia. This was totally abhorrent and prompted many discussions among the other teachers and with the Rector of the college. Ultimately, he pledged his assistance to the campaign to stop the dismemberment of native communities.

  The author first met Reverend James in August of 1963, just weeks before starting high school at Brebeuf College School. On that occasion, I was delivering altar bread from the Sisters of the Precious Blood to the various churches and religious institutions in the North End of Toronto. My first impression echoed what others had said in the past and what many more would say in the future. Reverend James Toppings was a wonderful person.

  The comments that are included here repeat the context of various personal conversations. Reverend James treated students as equals, making it so easy to converse with one so well regarded. Together with the elderly Rector and another priest Reverend Donald Beaudois there were many during-and-after-school discussions regarding perceptions about life in general. Reverend James never wavered from his beliefs, maintaining the principles that made his life virtuous. The concept of ‘Freedom of Conscience’ was introduced to us, but at the same time his opposition to birth control and abortion remained firm. Reverend James and all of the Jesuits were arch defenders of Pope Paul VI’s encyclical, Humanae Vitae.

  Discussions regarding aspirations and the cultural make-up of the area were many. There were, within the territory of the high school, the well-to-do, the middleclass, and sons of families just scraping by. There were students from one-million-dollar homes, and others from wooden shacks. There was the majority who spoke only English, and several recent immigrants who still had difficulties with the English language.

  Although we highly regarded our teacher, it wasn’t really until we went to Martyrs’ Shrine that we saw him in his true element. The grave and relics of St. Jean de Brebeuf meant so much with our high school being named after that illustrious saint. We prayed the Stations of the Cross together. Any questions we had, Reverend James answered before we could find a tour guide. It was while he was talking to several men from the Rama Nation, who were there on a retreat, that Reverend James appeared almost angelic.

  The next day at the start of class he asked us one question, “Is it right to remove native children from their reserves?” The forty-three minutes of time allotted for any class was not enough for all of the comments. Although we didn’t know it at the time, the issue was equally important to him in Winnipeg and had since never been dismissed.

  There was no student that he ever let drift or whose question was not considered important. All were treated equally. Unfortunately when our class graduated in June 1968, we were not empowered to grant sainthood to our gentlemanly teacher who meant so much to us.

  Reverend James’ career as a teacher lasted until he was sixty-five years old in 1981. After that he was assigned to a parish north of Toronto. That position lasted only three years.

  Thereafter he was transferred almost 3,000 kilometers to the east, to St. Pius X Parish in St. John�
��s, Newfoundland.

  This must have been a shock to his system. First of all, Reverend James was being so far removed from the love of his life: teaching Grade Nine students. Then he was being placed in a spiritual environment that had in years past been relatively stagnant. That disposition did not in any way reflect a unique attitude in that parish. In fact, the St. Pius X community was extremely receptive to everyone attending and to varying ideas and differences. Always having a welcoming mind meant so much. However, there remained that element in society in general that wished to maintain the status quo.

  The Jesuit Order had first established a parish in Newfoundland more than three hundred and fifty years before in 1627. Political turmoil involving wars between the French and English interfered with the spiritual aims of both the Catholic and Anglican communities. The Jesuits had to leave, and ultimately returned in 1784.

  The Catholic Church in Newfoundland under the direction of Archbishop Roche experienced spiritual stability during the years of his episcopate from 1915 to 1950. However, this prelate was a staunch conservative and became one of the leaders opposed to Confederation. His successor too was opposed to ­significant rapid change. Archbishop Patrick Skinner did not actively support many of the changes proposed by Vatican II Council. He in fact had voted for them, but implementation was not quick or thorough. Archbishop Penny in 1980 wanted to change all that by directing the Church in Newfoundland to fully embrace the Post-Vatican II era.

  For six years until 1990, Reverend James’ efforts, liturgical mission, and his instruction were all well received. Parish groups discovered a new inspiration. Children in parochial schools found a friend ready to participate in recess-time sports. Homilies stressing the rebirth of Catholic practice received attentive response. Benediction in accord with his liturgical agenda became a regular devotion. Above all else in those few years, Reverend James reached out to those who felt disenfranchised by the Church and society.

  At the time of his arrival in 1984, the urban population was approximately 160,000. That figure included the residents in twelve surrounding communities. St. John’s citizens formed approximately thirty percent of the entire island.

  The aboriginal population within the city was less than six percent of that figure, being indigenous persons espousing Cree, Métis, and Mi’kmaq heritage. The Cree were distant relations of the Montagnais from Quebec. With the Métis, Reverend James was well-acquainted from his many years in Manitoba. Both the Cree and Métis were conversant in French. That provided access to spirited communication enabling him to support and encourage those indigenous persons.

  However, it was the last group that provided most of Reverend James’s interaction with the aboriginal community. The Mi’kmaq (commonly referred to as ‘Micmac’) encompassed many tribes and communities under many names with varying languages and dialects. They were not one homogenous group. Rather their territories occupied regions within every province and state of Eastern North America. The Mi’kmaq were also referred to as Abenaki, Gaspesian Tribe, Porcupine Indians, Restigouche, Kespu’kwitk, Piwktuk, Unama’kik, Shonack, Souriquois, Cape Sable Natives, Passamaquoddy, Tarateen and Taqamkuk. Their language was closely related to the Algonquian tongue. However, dialects were significantly different, making communication at times between communities quite impossible.

  The Mi’kmaqs in Newfoundland experienced a whirlwind of disappointments. Recurring epidemics and white man’s typhus had decimated their populations. Those diseases had already exterminated the Beothuk Nation. The choice very early to fight with the French against the English repeatedly caused much tribulation throughout the indigenous nation. Immigrants from Europe became a pestilence decimating the inherent industries and life style of the Mi’kmaq communities. Railroads invaded their territory, removing trees and logs, while mills and industry destroyed streams and polluted rivers.

  The Christian Church too had its pathetic impact forcing a spiritual creed upon a people who already embraced beliefs that encompassed all of nature. Not only people, but animals, the sun, flowing rivers, trees and even rocks possessed a spirit that was eternal. There was no distinction between natural or spiritual or supernatural. They had their creation story and their belief in supernatural beings that took the form of animals to guide each person in their quest. The extended family was the basic unit within a tribe. Each community had a chief and the leaders would meet at least once every year. Shamans were available for every person to interpret and guide.

  It was this culture that Reverent James understood. His acquaintance with indigenous beliefs and aspirations had prepared him for this mission. There were only a few within the parish who professed to be Mi’kmaq, and who similarly found their beliefs in nature and all creatures to be so soothing.

  One wonders if Reverend James, while he was in St. John’s, was also asked the questioned posed to him in our Grade Nine Class more than twenty years before: “Is there a place for animals in heaven?” Witnessing the blind person who relies on the guidance of a dog, hearing about a woman being awakened by her cat to escape a house fire, or viewing the work of police-dogs, these realities always prompt such concepts when Christ tells us that in heaven, “There are many mansions.” So much comfort and hope could be found in the Mi’kmaq reverence of nature.

  Reverend James then extended his agenda to securing land and equipment for playgrounds and promoted the construction of retirement homes. If he could do more to help them, he did. Reverend James was endeared to these native persons in Newfoundland as much as he was to the indigenous people and to everyone in need whom he met throughout his ministry.

  Illness returned in 1991, in his 75TH year, to the extent he could no longer function. After being transferred to the infirmary in Pickering, Reverend James Toppings entered eternity on March 2, 1991.

  The gospel reading on that Saturday in the 2ND week of Lent was the Prodigal Son. Like the father who embraced his long lost son, Reverend James had always been there to welcome and provide guidance and comfort to so many who needed a kind word or reassuring smile.

  He is well remembered.

  1996

  KEVIN

  Dancing bears pranced across the screen. Excited with the possible result, the middle-aged man glued his eyes to the flashing images. There was every expectation that in just seconds the bells would once again ring, lighting up the monitor. The exclamation of “Jackpot!” had to happen. It could be in a second, the next minute, perhaps even an hour; or never. Kevin pressed the button once more. It was an automatic impulse that had become the logical norm.

  To his left, an old woman slowly pushed her spin-button, seemingly lacking any urgency for the ‘big win’. Kevin cursed the stupidity of such quarter bets. “What’s she to gain? A couple of bucks?” That would never be enough to satisfy his whim. Actually it was much more than that. His was an absolute compulsion. However, he was not then or ever about to realize the folly of his obsession.

  “Krazee Koalas” was his favourite slot machine. The graphics were so extraordinary. “How could anyone design such graphics?” Such ingenuity always amazed him. “Can’t we make these machines in Canada?” He deplored the idea that the provincial government was importing such machines from Australia. “Don’t we have the research here?” A series of queries was quite the norm to prompt him to think ‘outside the box’. “To restrict oneself to status quo is like jumping into the abyss.” Kevin could dab in philosophy when it suited his interest.

  Two hours was the norm, but on that Sunday evening he had long exceeded the standard. Another twenty-dollar bill slipped into the machine without a thought. The more he had in his pocket, the less he contemplated the amount. There always was an immeasurable flow of bills: too many to count and too few to cause worry.

  That day was different from his regular routine. Normally he’d be jumping from machine to machine, but chose instead to remain steadfast to the stool in front of his favorite screen
. He much disliked the term ‘machines’ because they were more his friends. They shared a strange companionship, and he attributed to them an instinctive recognition of his presence. Too often he had heard a strange calling, almost a congratulatory beckoning, the moment he pushed the sacred button. The jackpot bells would start ringing before the tumblers even completed their rotation.

  The old woman cursed her slot machine and left in a huff. Instantly, another person sat down. She was obviously one that had taken the casino bus because she was constantly looking at her watch if not at his screen. Others in the row were so captivated by the animated activity flashing before them. There seemed to be this crazy perception that there was a direct correlation between the manner in which they stared at the machine or rubbed the monitor and the prospect of a sizeable payoff.

  The terms ‘payoff’ and ‘win’ bothered Kevin to no end. If the spin generated a payout of $1.50, the casino called it a win. Kevin knew differently. If he bet a dollar to generate a win-fall of a $1.50, he really only won fifty cents. But then, the customers were not brilliant individuals and accepted whatever they put in their pocket at the end of the day as their winnings even though the amount was far less than that when they arrived.

  There was a mystique about casinos that drew many, even those who couldn’t afford it, to the slot machines. The bottom line was clear that more left angry than those who left smiling. Actually he had heard that the payout level was normally less than five percent. He had also heard two percent. Those casinos that guaranteed ten percent were therefore more in demand. Kevin analyzed the math: if everyone bet the same amount on each spin, and stayed the same length of time, then for every person who won nine would leave the casino as losers. And that was the best case scenario.