History of the Province - Franciscan Friars - Province of St. John the Baptist in Cincinnati, Ohio

“Salt of the earth” is a term you don’t hear much anymore, probably because there are so few people who fit the description: decent, dependable and unpretentious. But it pretty much describes the majority of friars who have been part of St. John the Baptist Province for the past 150 years. Quietly, without making headlines, they have gone about their work, the behind-the-scenes, day-to-day ministry that makes all others possible.

They are not the leaders of their fraternity; they are its foundation. Selfless, steadfast and prayerful, they bring out the best in their brothers. Here are a few of our many unsung heroes.

No one took greater pride in a spotless shirt than Br. Linus, manager of the laundry room at Duns Scotus College in Southfield, Mich. “The school would not have functioned without him,” says his former guardian, Fr. Frank Jasper. Linus was a stickler for details — he was famous for letters to the editor citing newspaper mistakes — and a master of small things. The chores he accomplished, from keeping shelves stocked to filling salt shakers to driving seniors to the doctor, kept Linus busy from sunup to sundown. He did it all with such grace and good humor that his passing left a hole in the heart of his friar community. Obsessed with baseball in general and the Detroit Tigers in particular, Linus was buried with his most prized possession, a home run baseball hit by Kirk Gibson.



	Before he joined the Order, Didacus Casanave
engineered pumping systems. As a friar he focused on simpler matters, like keeping the dining room clean at Duns Scotus College. Cultured and highly educated, Didacus spent years pushing a dish cart — and never complained that it was beneath him. “He joined the friars to be of service,” says Fr. Frank Jasper, his former guardian, “and he did his job like clockwork.” A native of the Philippines, Didacus spent three years in a concentration camp during World War II. He was meticulous and methodical, qualities that served him well in his dining room duties and his work as a typist for the friars’ Provincial Chronicles. Near blindness failed to slow him down: Didacus counted steps to keep from tripping while making his rounds.


Whether he was cooking, tending the furnace, patching a roof or fixing a car, Br. Leonard always gave the same answer to the greeting, “How are you?” He would reply, “I never had it so good.” And he meant it. A farm kid who knew what it was to go without, Leonard was endlessly grateful for his life with the friars. He did a lot of things well — knitting, woodworking, clock-making — but he was first and foremost an ambas- sador of good will. Known to all as “Friend Leonard,” he could charm the spots off a leopard. In a sea of friar brown, Leonard was easy to find: He was the one wearing a dapper bow tie. Healthy and active well into his 90s, he delighted in sharing his childlike, rock-solid faith with everyone he met.
As he often told fellow friars, “The best is yet to come.”

“Lou is a hero to me” says Fr. Fred Link, former Provincial Minister. “Such a selfless, hard worker, faithful to the community, a man of quiet prayer.” At St. Leonard College in Center- ville, Ohio, “He took care of the farm, doing the butchering, putting meat on the table,” says Br. Norbert Bertram of St. Clement in St. Bernard. He was so beloved at Bishop Luers High School in Fort Wayne (for his work with Bingo and the bookstore) that they considered renaming the place “Brother Louis High School.” At St. Clement, where he still keeps the kind of

schedule he learned as a boy on a farm, Louis is the guy who handles the books and puts food on the shelves. Even
though “he’s very much hard of hearing,” Norbert says, “he never complains, he’s always pleasant, always thankful.”

Most friars did not join the Order to scrub pots, make coffee and mop floors. Br. Ed has been doing all that and more at St. Francis Retreat House in Easton since 1971, and “he does it lovingly and with energy,” says Fr. Fred Link, former Provincial Minister. “It comes from a heart that wants to be of service.” Behind the scenes at each and every retreat, Ed does “whatever might be needed to make it a success,” says Fr. Bill Reisteter, former retreat house director, “and much of what he does is unnoticed by the rest of the community.” Ask the guests: “They’ll tell you about Eddie Skutka” and his open, guileless faith, his gentle good humor, his seemingly inexhaustible energy.

“He’s like part of the building,” says Bill. “He would be hard to replace.”

“The whole day was one act of thanksgiving for him,” a fellow friar wrote, eulogizing a simple brother who made every task seem “noble and dignified.” In his 70 years with St. John the Baptist Province, the Bavarian-born Br. Andrew was “a model Franciscan” and “a constant inspiration.” At St. Mary Friary in Detroit, he cooked, cleaned house, tended the

garden. As porter at St. Francis Seraph Friary in Cincinnati, he gave visitors their first and often most

enduring impression of what the friars were all about. When an archdi- ocesan financial scandal threatened to ruin the parish, bookkeeper Andrew went

to work, obtaining a loan to meet the most pressing needs. Despite his “rural school education,” he was business manager for the friars’ German-language magazine, Der Sendbote, for 55 years.

“This has been an especially good year,” Br. Francis wrote in his last Christmas letter. This greeting came from a friar who had heart disease, underwent dialysis three times a week and lost both of his legs to diabetes. “Something like that shows what a person is, when they’re able to shoulder so many crosses,” says Br. Martin Humphreys, a former colleague. “He was an inspiration to everybody.” A gentle giant with a smile that was pure sunshine, Francis ran college kitchens that fed 120 friars three times a day, 365 days a year, and later helped coordinate a poverty program in Michigan. “He did an awful lot of cheering on of guys,” says Br. Norbert Bertram, “sort of as a spiritual director in an unofficial way.” Despite declining health, “I never saw him down in the dumps.”


Br. Louie is the go-to guy, the friar who can fix anything, the one who stays calm in a crisis. In three decades at St. Clement Friary in St. Bernard, now as a missionary in Jamaica, “He runs all day long, spending an unbelievable amount of time doing all this little stuff that isn’t his job — but he does it,” says his former guardian, Br. Norbert Bertram. Quiet, humble and prayerful, “Lou is truly a peaceful, gentle man,” says Fr. Fred Link. Whether he’s painting a neighbor’s house, counseling a Boy Scout troop or sitting with someone who needs a listening ear, “It’s hard for Lou to say no.” According to Norbert, “He has a sense of compassion for people. He is always
smiling, has a great sense of being happy — and it’s contagious.”

In 1209, Pope Innocent III approved a plan by Francis of Assisi for a new way of religious life. This year, Franciscans around the world are marking the Eighth Centenary of the founding of their Order. In 1859, the entity that became St. John the Baptist Province in Cincinnati was formally erected as a “custody.” This 12-part series, commemorating the 150th anniversary of the province, celebrates the lives and contributions of the friars.

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The Way West

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