Archbishop Dolan did take the time to respond - still have not heard from our parish priest. If anyone would like to know what is wrong with the Catholic Church in America I think this explains alot! These men r;unning the church are, for the most part, not human; I think they may think they are god though.
***********************************************************************************
November 19, 2009
The Most Reverend Timothy M. Dolan
Archbishop of New York
Office of the Archbishop
1011 First Avenue
New York, New York 10022
Your Excellency:
I have received your correspondence of November 13, 2009 seeking my contribution to the Annual Appeal. As you probably have financial archives, you know that my family and I have been supporters of the Catholic Church in New York.
My husband and I had been active members of the Immaculate Heart of Mary Church (IHM) parish, raising three sons that attended CCD classes and received all of their sacraments there. Indeed, my great-grandparents, grandparents, parents and siblings had also been active members of the IHM community, as my great grandparents moved to Scarsdale from Brooklyn in 1927. My grandmothers and mother were PTA presidents at IHM, and my parents, brothers, sister and I all attended IHM grammar school for nine years. I was baptized, received my first Holy Communion in the chapel in the Sisters of Charity residence (my grandparents had paid for the renovation of the house in the early 1960’s), confirmed and married in the parish. My great-grandparents, grandparents and parents all had their funeral masses there. I volunteered as a teacher in the CCD program and was happy to help with any other volunteer needs of the parish. Over five generations, the Chow’s, Robertson’s, O’Brien’s, Konvalinka’s and Bennett’s were active members of the IHM parish community and generous financial contributors to the New York Archdiocese and the parish. Seven generations of my family have been active Roman Catholic New York parishioners.
My immediate family has also been very active at Rosary Hill Nursing Home, and two of my sons attended Fordham Prep in the Bronx. My oldest son, Joseph, was very active in the Roman Catholic community at Amherst College, Massachusetts. Joseph was honored for his participation in the Catholic Community at Amherst by being invited to sit with His Eminence Cardinal Joseph Zen, the bishop of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Hong Kong at the 2007 graduation luncheon. At the luncheon the Bishop and Joseph found they shared a common ambition. Joseph had been accepted by the Peace Corp and was on his way to Kenya to teach science and math to high school students. His Excellency wanted to retire and teach students in Kenya.
Political unrest forced Joseph to spend the last two years in Tanzania teaching Physics, Chemistry and Calculus to junior college level students. Joseph knew that he had been blessed with so much, and thanks to his strong Catholic beliefs, he felt that he had a duty to give back. Joseph was an idealistic, Jesuit trained, “Man for Others”. Joseph was a scientist, a published author on several physiology papers, and was going to attend medical school. He felt that he had a good understanding of the medical science and a vocation to teach. Joseph was a classical pianist, an ancient Greek and Latin scholar, and an athlete. Unfortunately, Joseph passed away on September 22, 2009 in Tanzania (please see the enclosed press release).
The Director of the Peace Corp called us on Tuesday September 22, 2009. The next day we received a note and a Tanzanian carved cross from the rector of our local Episcopalian parish, who is a member of the Scarsdale community. The minister of the Mamaroneck Lutheran church visited sometime that week to offer words of consolation (he is the minister to a friend of mine that I have known since IHM). At least 1400 people attended Joseph’s wake, and a thousand people attended his funeral at the Fordham University Church, officiated by two of his high school teachers. A retired Maryknoll missionary (an old friend who we knew through the IHM parish) led a prayer service at the wake; at the end of the wake prayer service was led by the Dominican nuns and priest from Rosary Hill (Rosary Hill is actively supported by the IHM parish). At Joseph’s funeral a letter from the President of the United States was read and presented to us. The Senators from New York and Connecticut wrote notes as did several other ambassadors and officials. Friends, students and volunteers in other international organizations held separate services for him around the world. All had been touched by Joseph’s giving and enthusiastic service. Two scholarships in his name have received tens of thousands of dollars.
The purpose of this note is not to brag about my lost son, or to let you know about our gratitude to our local, national and international communities which have supported us through this very difficult time.
The purpose of this correspondence is to question: what happened to the clergy of IHM? We know that the parish clergy knew that Joseph died; it was reported in all of the local papers (see enclosed). Several of our friends who are still very active in the parish asked Monsignor John T. Ferry if he would visit our family; his response to one of our friends was that he was too busy, he was on his way to an anniversary of his graduating class (!?). Is there only one priest at IHM; have the clergy lost all sense of common decency? The parish secretary made a belated call to the funeral home to ask if we needed a priest to say a prayer, but the arrangements had been completed by the time we received the call. Recently I did receive a rather bizarre voice message asking if we would like to participate in the parish’s annual bereavement mass. Except for these very distant contacts, I have not received any notes of condolence from IHM parish clergy. I think the parish staff at IHM has made it very clear that we are not part of their community; although the monthly mailing asking for financial support has not stopped, and now I receive a note asking for me to further support the dioceses!
The literature reports that the loss of a child suddenly and unexpectedly in a distant land is just about the most traumatic life experience that can happen to a human being. All of our community support has been life sustaining for our family. The Episcopal Church, the Lutheran Church, several of our local Jewish synagogues, even the President of the United States has reached out to us personally. What happened to our local parish? Unfortunately, at the age of 52, my eyes have been opened to just how little the parish community means to a Roman Catholic in the Archdiocese of New York. I still consider myself Roman Catholic, although I have started attending the local Episcopal Church when I cannot get to Rosary Hill or Fordham University for mass. Your archdiocese has failed us in what should have been a most basic parish, and human, duty.
Sincerely,
Donna A. Robertson-Chow, Ph.D.
cc: Most Reverend Gerald T. Walsh, D.D. (via email) sjs@dunwoodie.edu
Monsignor John T. Ferry
Pope Benedict XVI (via email) benedictxvi@vatican.va
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
September 23, 2009 Daniel Facebook
Wednesday, September 23, 2009 at 12:07pm
My Brother Joseph… what to say? I can’t even begin to tell you how close we were. I like to think that Kyle, Joe, and I were as close as brothers can be. When we were little we did everything together. There were fights, but on the whole we always got along. I played the annoying little brother to a T throughout are childhood, and he always put up with me. In fact, one of my favorite stories about him and I was one that I was too young to remember. Joseph was building a puzzle in our old apartment, but could not seem to find several of the pieces. Then my mother saw me running along with something in my hand and said, “Hey Daniel, what you got there?” With a devilish grin I opened my hand to reveal the missing pieces. Apparently there is a video of it somewhere, but I am not sure I will ever be able to watch it now that he is gone.
I can’t even say or think the word dead, whenever I hear that word I cannot hold it together. My Dad keeps repeating the phrase “Joseph, my Joseph” to himself and it feels like knives to me… I can’t really face it yet. I can act normal when I don’t think of everything as final, which is easy to do since Joseph has been away for such a long time that it got to the point where it seemed normal to me if I didn’t hear from him for a month or two. It never had the feeling of finality though. I was so excited to see him again in December. I talked to him just last week and told him he should spend the winter with my friends and I out in Jackson Hole. I can’t believe I miss him so much already… it doesn’t seem real. I keep picturing his accident, but can’t seem to wrap my head around it. I know that it happens, in fact we read about death daily, but I never thought it could happen so close to home. I guess I thought about myself dying quite often in the last year. After my car crash, life seemed so much shorter and uncontrollable then it had beforehand, but that was in relation to my own life. I never applied those thoughts to my brothers, who have always been so much less accident-prone then myself. How did he fall? If I was there could I have stopped him, or prevented it somehow? I don’t have any guilt for not being there, which would be pointless, but I am curious. I have much more experience in the outdoors than he did, and was perhaps more cautious in some ways (as unlikely as that sounds). Also, even though he was my big brother, I still felt like I was responsible for him in some ways… on Kilimanjaro I kept a close eye on Kyle and Joe for any signs of altitude sickness. I was worried about Joseph a few times since he felt sick, and almost was to the point of making him turn around, but it turned out to just be a stomach virus that passed and left him fine for the summit day. I was so happy that we all made the high point that day, and it was a moment of true achievement that I accomplished with both my brothers. Since we all split for different colleges these moments were rare… and I never really got to say goodbye to him.
I was so proud that Joseph had made it into the Peace Corps, which is not an easy application process, and I told everyone that I would listen about it. My parents were not thrilled with the idea, but they knew it was what he wanted to do. I think that it was really an experience that allowed him to grow into himself more. Although I would give anything if he had never gone to Africa. Nothing that has happened takes away what he did there though; I believe that he did good work while he was there.
I don’t really know where to go from here, but the process will take a while. I don’t really know why I am putting this out there, but writing something seemed to help a little. Maybe it is to let people know a little about him? How he was a kind, loving, devoted brother and son. How he wanted to make a difference in the world. I guess most of all this is just an attempt to talk to him. In that vain of thought, Joseph, I miss you more than I can say already, I loved you more then I ever told you, and I pray that there is an afterlife so that I can tell you face to face someday.
Love,
Daniel
My Brother Joseph… what to say? I can’t even begin to tell you how close we were. I like to think that Kyle, Joe, and I were as close as brothers can be. When we were little we did everything together. There were fights, but on the whole we always got along. I played the annoying little brother to a T throughout are childhood, and he always put up with me. In fact, one of my favorite stories about him and I was one that I was too young to remember. Joseph was building a puzzle in our old apartment, but could not seem to find several of the pieces. Then my mother saw me running along with something in my hand and said, “Hey Daniel, what you got there?” With a devilish grin I opened my hand to reveal the missing pieces. Apparently there is a video of it somewhere, but I am not sure I will ever be able to watch it now that he is gone.
I can’t even say or think the word dead, whenever I hear that word I cannot hold it together. My Dad keeps repeating the phrase “Joseph, my Joseph” to himself and it feels like knives to me… I can’t really face it yet. I can act normal when I don’t think of everything as final, which is easy to do since Joseph has been away for such a long time that it got to the point where it seemed normal to me if I didn’t hear from him for a month or two. It never had the feeling of finality though. I was so excited to see him again in December. I talked to him just last week and told him he should spend the winter with my friends and I out in Jackson Hole. I can’t believe I miss him so much already… it doesn’t seem real. I keep picturing his accident, but can’t seem to wrap my head around it. I know that it happens, in fact we read about death daily, but I never thought it could happen so close to home. I guess I thought about myself dying quite often in the last year. After my car crash, life seemed so much shorter and uncontrollable then it had beforehand, but that was in relation to my own life. I never applied those thoughts to my brothers, who have always been so much less accident-prone then myself. How did he fall? If I was there could I have stopped him, or prevented it somehow? I don’t have any guilt for not being there, which would be pointless, but I am curious. I have much more experience in the outdoors than he did, and was perhaps more cautious in some ways (as unlikely as that sounds). Also, even though he was my big brother, I still felt like I was responsible for him in some ways… on Kilimanjaro I kept a close eye on Kyle and Joe for any signs of altitude sickness. I was worried about Joseph a few times since he felt sick, and almost was to the point of making him turn around, but it turned out to just be a stomach virus that passed and left him fine for the summit day. I was so happy that we all made the high point that day, and it was a moment of true achievement that I accomplished with both my brothers. Since we all split for different colleges these moments were rare… and I never really got to say goodbye to him.
I was so proud that Joseph had made it into the Peace Corps, which is not an easy application process, and I told everyone that I would listen about it. My parents were not thrilled with the idea, but they knew it was what he wanted to do. I think that it was really an experience that allowed him to grow into himself more. Although I would give anything if he had never gone to Africa. Nothing that has happened takes away what he did there though; I believe that he did good work while he was there.
I don’t really know where to go from here, but the process will take a while. I don’t really know why I am putting this out there, but writing something seemed to help a little. Maybe it is to let people know a little about him? How he was a kind, loving, devoted brother and son. How he wanted to make a difference in the world. I guess most of all this is just an attempt to talk to him. In that vain of thought, Joseph, I miss you more than I can say already, I loved you more then I ever told you, and I pray that there is an afterlife so that I can tell you face to face someday.
Love,
Daniel
September 18, 2009 - Joseph's last Journal entry
Joseph carried his paper journal on his last trip, and wrote one final entry on the 18th:
"Over a year but all my entries are on my computer. I'm in Mbinga now, in the southwest, about to go to my friend's village.
I spent the last three days crossing "the worst road in Tanzania" - The Masas-Songea route. Passing through Tunduru Wednesday morning I passed by Abbey Secondary School on the way out of site. Abbey is run by the church, and my boss wanted me to look into putting an IT Volunteer there this December. Met a Father Augustine who I guess is the headmaster. Abbey much bigger than I imagined.
Trip to Tunduru was uneventful - thank God I am not doing it again thought. The area is poor, I traveled for 6 hours and did not see a single power line. Tunduru itself is a transit town, like Masasi. Next morning our bus was broken, so I didn't get to leave for awhile. By the time the Konda informed us all the other buses were goen, but I managed to track down a lorry. Most uncomfortable 8 hours of my life - but I split my ipod with Ana. Afterwards. she found a hotel for me in Songea. Today another tough trip, sitting on the floor of a packed zoasta(?)."
"Over a year but all my entries are on my computer. I'm in Mbinga now, in the southwest, about to go to my friend's village.
I spent the last three days crossing "the worst road in Tanzania" - The Masas-Songea route. Passing through Tunduru Wednesday morning I passed by Abbey Secondary School on the way out of site. Abbey is run by the church, and my boss wanted me to look into putting an IT Volunteer there this December. Met a Father Augustine who I guess is the headmaster. Abbey much bigger than I imagined.
Trip to Tunduru was uneventful - thank God I am not doing it again thought. The area is poor, I traveled for 6 hours and did not see a single power line. Tunduru itself is a transit town, like Masasi. Next morning our bus was broken, so I didn't get to leave for awhile. By the time the Konda informed us all the other buses were goen, but I managed to track down a lorry. Most uncomfortable 8 hours of my life - but I split my ipod with Ana. Afterwards. she found a hotel for me in Songea. Today another tough trip, sitting on the floor of a packed zoasta(?)."
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Amherst College Magazine Winter 2009-2010
In Memoriam – Joseph Lawrence Chow ‘07
Joseph Lawrence Chow ’07 died tragically on September 22, 2009, while hiking in the southern region of Tanzania. He was serving in the Peace Corps as a teacher at the Ndanda Secondary School, and had aspired to apply to medical school in the future.
At Amherst, “Speedy” Joe was a devoted member of both the Swimming and Diving and Water Polo teams. His teammates recall that although he was never the fastest swimmer, he was far and away the most determined. He was a unifying force on the team and his dedication was a critical part of the team’s success. Joe’s enthusiasm was ubiquitous; he always gave 110% and drove everyone else to do the same. A genuine scholar outside of the pool, Joe double-majored in Chemistry and History while maintaining his rigorous training schedule. Joe was best known on campus for his witty sarcasm, blunt honesty, quirky mannerisms, love of “awesomely bad” movies, and his infectious smile.
After graduating, Joe left for Kenya with the Peace Corps, but was relocated to Tanzania in the wake of the post-election conflict. Once there, Joe taught introductory college level physics and calculus, and adjusted quickly to a new culture, language and education system. In addition, Joe spearheaded HIV/AIDS awareness and testing programs in his community, and found time to teach his students swimming lessons as well as train with the cross country team.
In everything he did, Joe brought a level of commitment and effort which was without parallel. He demanded an incredible amount from himself, expected no less from his peers, and brought out the best in all of us. He was never one to miss out on life’s opportunities, from small treasures like an Italian Combo at an Arthur Ave. deli, to the Peace Corps itself. He will be sorely missed by his family, friends, and the Amherst community. Joe is survived by his parents, Dr. Raymond Chow and Dr. Donna Robertson-Chow, and his younger brothers, Daniel and Kyle.
John Ancona ’07, Adam Kaplan ’07 and Mark Yarchoan ’07
Joseph Lawrence Chow ’07 died tragically on September 22, 2009, while hiking in the southern region of Tanzania. He was serving in the Peace Corps as a teacher at the Ndanda Secondary School, and had aspired to apply to medical school in the future.
At Amherst, “Speedy” Joe was a devoted member of both the Swimming and Diving and Water Polo teams. His teammates recall that although he was never the fastest swimmer, he was far and away the most determined. He was a unifying force on the team and his dedication was a critical part of the team’s success. Joe’s enthusiasm was ubiquitous; he always gave 110% and drove everyone else to do the same. A genuine scholar outside of the pool, Joe double-majored in Chemistry and History while maintaining his rigorous training schedule. Joe was best known on campus for his witty sarcasm, blunt honesty, quirky mannerisms, love of “awesomely bad” movies, and his infectious smile.
After graduating, Joe left for Kenya with the Peace Corps, but was relocated to Tanzania in the wake of the post-election conflict. Once there, Joe taught introductory college level physics and calculus, and adjusted quickly to a new culture, language and education system. In addition, Joe spearheaded HIV/AIDS awareness and testing programs in his community, and found time to teach his students swimming lessons as well as train with the cross country team.
In everything he did, Joe brought a level of commitment and effort which was without parallel. He demanded an incredible amount from himself, expected no less from his peers, and brought out the best in all of us. He was never one to miss out on life’s opportunities, from small treasures like an Italian Combo at an Arthur Ave. deli, to the Peace Corps itself. He will be sorely missed by his family, friends, and the Amherst community. Joe is survived by his parents, Dr. Raymond Chow and Dr. Donna Robertson-Chow, and his younger brothers, Daniel and Kyle.
John Ancona ’07, Adam Kaplan ’07 and Mark Yarchoan ’07
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