Welcome to the first installation of the Cool Historic Catholics of America series! I hope you will learn a little bit about some people you have never have heard of before. 
Please make sure to read the intro post where I explain the selection criteria and process before you get upset about who is listed for your state. M'kay? 

Here we go!

Fr James Coyle, St. Herman of Alaska, Fr. Kino (sketch by Francis O'Brian 1962), Fr. Gregory Keller

Alabama - Fr. James Coyle

Born in 1873 in Ireland, Fr. Coyle is a good example of some of the pressures American Catholicism was facing in the latter part of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Ordained in Ireland at 23 years old, he sailed for America was another priest later that year to serve in Birmingham, Alabama. He was one of many Catholic priests brought to areas with growing Catholic populations in this period. In Birmingham's case, it was the large number of European immigrants coming to work the mills and mines.

Anti-Catholic, anti-immigrant, and racist beliefs were converging, and the Ku Klux Klan was ascending in Alabama. On August 11, 1921, Fr. Coyle was shot in the head while sitting on the swing of the parish rectory. The gunman was an enraged Protestant minister and Klan member. Just two hours earlier his daughter had been married to a dark-skinned Puerto Rican man, in a ceremony celebrated by Fr. Coyle.

Fr. Coyle died 40 minutes later on the operating table. His funeral was one of the largest ever held in the history of Birmingham.

Despite multiple eye witnesses to the murder, the shooter was found not guilty. It was a case defended by a team that included four clans men, paid for by the Klan, and heard by a Klansman judge.
The verdict had a chilling effect on the Catholic population.
But it marked the climax of anti-Catholicism in Alabama at the time. A local woman remembers, "After the trial there followed such revulsion of feeling among the right-minded who before had been bogged down in blindness and indifference that slowly and almost unnoticeably the Ku Klux Klan and their ilk began to lose favor among the people. It took a long time to accomplish this, and the feeling has broken out again periodically at odd times. We know that it will never be entirely wiped out, but today I should venture to say that the Catholics of Alabama enjoy the respect and good will of 85 per cent of the state. Let us not forget the martyred priest, who by his death was the instrument for bringing about in such large degree this happy state of affairs."

Alaska - St. Herman of Alaska

Ok, I know I said these would all be Catholics. But Alaska had slim pickin's and this guy is a really cool Orthodox who had a big impact on Alaska. We're a Church with two lungs, right?

So Herman of Alaska! He was born in Russia in the 1750s-ish. All the historians disagree/just don't know about his early life. Everyone agrees that, while well liked by his monk brethren, Herman felt called to a more solitary life. He became a hermit with his abbot's blessing. While offered ordination to the priesthood, and a nice mission assignment to China, Herman refused - preferring his simple life.

Russian colonization of Alaska was in full gear through the end of the 18th century, and the Shelikhov-Golikov Company appealed to Most Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church to send priests to minister to the natives. Catherine-the-Great decided to send an entire mission. The final mission included 10 monks from Herman's abbey, including Herman. They arrived on September 24, 1874.

Conditions were far worse than than monks had been led to believe, and promised supplies were wanting. Despite those challenges, the mission was very successful among the Native population, and the monks became the defenders of the native Kodiac population against overwork and abuse.

Despite still not being ordained, Herman became head of the mission in 1807.While he had very good relations with everyone, he longed to be a hermit again. He retired from active duty and moved to Spruce Island. The Island is separated from Kodiak by a mile-wide strait.

But even in his hermit habitat, Herman attracted a following. At first it was mostly Native visitors on Sundays and holy days. Then a chapel and guest house were added next to his hermitage. Then an orphanage. Whole families moved out to the island to be closer to him. He spent the rest of his life on the island until his death on November 15, 1836.

Which just goes to show even a vocation of solitary prayer can have a vigorous active ministry.

Arizona - Fr. Eusebio Francisco Kino, S.J. - Servant of God

Born in Trent in 1645 and educated in Austria, Eusebio decided to enter the Jesuits after recuperating from a serious illness. He officially joined the Society on November 20, 1665. He completed his priestly training, taught Mathematics for a while in Ingolstat, and was ordained to the priesthood on June 12, 1677.

He wanted an assignment to China, but was instead sent to New Spain. He missed the first boat, and had to wait another year to catch the next one. But while stuck in Spain he made some important astronomical observations, and discovered a comet. (Way to stay productive!)

Now New Spain was really a GIANT area, and Fr. Kino was specifically assigned to lead an expedition to Baja California. It was a massive failure and they had to return to Mexico City.

His next assignment was better. He arrived in the Pimeria Alta (modern day southern Arizona, northern Sonora, Mexico) in 1687. He established the first mission in the river valley of the Sonora Mountains, at the requests of the natives. He would eventually found or start 21 missions.
He mapped much of the ancient trading routes through Arizona and California. His maps would remain the most accurate of the region for 150 years after his death, and they remain the first accurate maps of Pimería Alta, the Gulf of California, and Baja California.
His mission also taught the native people about European agriculture, seeds, and livestock. His mission herd of 20 cows grew to 70,000 - making him Arizona's first rancher.

He interacted with 16 different tribes, and strongly opposed slavery and the compulsory labor in the silver mines that was Spanish policy at the time. This made him controversial among his co-missionaries as most enacted the laws imposed by Spain on the colonized territories.

He remained in the missions until his death from fever in 1711 at the age of 65.

His cause for sainthood calls him Patron Saint of the Borderlands. "Kino’s apostolic routes traversed every highway and desert trail in the Sonoran Desert Borderlands that are now traveled in danger by today's migrant. Kino's greatest legacy is the inspiration that his life gives to people on both sides of the U.S - Mexico Border who work to ease the suffering of today's migrants. Kino is Patron Saint of The Borderlands - Borderlands of peace, solidarity and prosperity."

His cause finally began when his skeleton was identified in 1966 in Magdalena de Kino, Sonora, 50 miles south of Nogales, Mexico. They are now awaiting the two required miracles.

You might also see his name spelled "Eusebio Francesco Chini". The Kino came into use in Spanish speaking regions, and he is best known as Fr. Kino.

Arkansas - Fr. Gregory Harding Keller 

And now for a just fun one! Or should I say sweet one?

Fr. Keller was a priest-inventor who had big contribution to make to the world of candy. Specifically, candy canes.

Candy canes have a long lore and history, at least to the 17th century anyway. Candy canes were recorded being made in the United States by 1847, but they were all homemade.
In 1919 Bob McCormack founded McCormack’s Famous Candy Company - eventually to be called Bob's Candies. McCormack's made candy canes on a larger scale. But the process was very labor intensive, all hand done.

But Bob McCormack had an inventor in the family, his brother-in-law, Fr. Keller.
Fr. Keller invented one machine that twisted the candies into the distinctive spiral shape and cut them. Later he invented a second machine that added the characteristic hook. The combined machines become known as a Keller Machine.
The Keller Machine is what makes the candy cane industry possible.

But that's not all he invented. Fr. Keller held patents on to process peanut butter cookies, package peanuts, decorate candies, and a "stick assortment gathering machine" to create assorted packages of candies.

He held eight degrees. After completing his first doctorate in Rome, he found himself unable to return home due to World War I. So he stayed and got another doctorate. (As you do, I suppose.)

He died on September 1. 1979 after completing 60 years as a diocesan priest serving near his hometown of Little Rock, Arkansas.

I will keep updating the intro post with each new part of the series. Check back there if you miss one!

Cool Historic Catholics of America - series announcement!

I'm a very distract-able amateur historian. I love stories, and I especially love real life stories.

Spending a lot of time among historic newspapers, diaries, and other fragments of the past means that I hear a lot of whispers and echos of stories of everyday people who lived extraordinary lives.
Sometimes the stories were about one amazing event in their life. Sometimes it was the unlikeliness of their circumstances that led to their memory getting passed down.

It occurred to me there are probably stories of people in my own faith tradition that are still living in that whisper and echo place. Where local people know the story like an old friend, but someone on the other side of the country have never even heard of their name.

While Catholics are a huge population globally, they are not spread evenly across the United States. The US is a young country with spotty historical records. Yet I challenged myself to find someone from every state in the US, plus Washington DC, who was either in the pipeline for sainthood or was just a cool historic Catholic person.

I specifically wanted to find those stories that are often passed over. Most of them are not clergy or bishops. I sought after the stories of women, minorities, young people, and those who are not well known. Some of them are widely beloved, and some are controversial figures. They are required to be historic - so no living people are on this list. Their time will come!

While I love them too, you won't find saints like Elizabeth Ann Seton or Kateri Tekakwitha on this list. This is about the people you might not have heard of before.
Some states had a plethora of amazing stories to choose from. Some I had to really dig to find any names.

I tried to assign people to the state of their formation or to where they did the brunt of their work. Many people impacted multiple states, so sometimes it was an editorial call as to which state I would have them represent.

I'll be releasing the whole list 4-6 states at a time so I can do as much justice to their stories as possible. Feel free to comment on other Catholic people from their states that have their own amazing, yet largely unknown, story. Perhaps we'll do a bonus list!

So check back in the next few weeks as I release the list! In alphabetical order. Because I've been through multiple iterations of grouping, and trust me this is just the best way.

Updates with each portion of the list can be found here:

Alabama to Arkansas
California to Connecticut 
Delaware to Georgia

When Lent Tests You

You could say I failed Lent this year.
In the sense that I did not achieve what I set out to do in my initial vision.

But by that standard I "fail" in just about everything I attempt.

Lent is a popular practice - even among non-Catholics and non-Christians. There is something about systematically setting aside a time for simplicity, challenge, and trying to be more honestly who we are meant to be, that speaks to a deep longing many of us find within ourselves.

What I find most thrilling about Lent is how much better it gets because of the intentional surrender to God's Will.

I do a give up, a take on, and a pray on.

This year I decided to give up meat as a family, take on fostering intentional community, and praying on healing for victims of abuse.

I thought this would be a Lent of trying new recipes and re-visiting old favorites from when we ate tons of veggies in California. Calling up old friends, and making intentional time to foster new friendships. Spending some time in adoration and dedicating rosaries for abuse victim/survivors.

Then we had a house fire.

Suddenly meatless Lent became about being grateful for any meal that was provided for us.
Intentional community became learning to accept help when it was offered, and being ok with saying yes to letting people into our hard times.
I haven't had those times of extra silent prayer and adoration time. But I talked to The Atlantic about how parents are dealing with the crisis (or, in some cases, not dealing with the crisis), listened to the stories of survivors, and supported those creating future plans for parish and diocese events for furthering healing and understanding.

Nothing about this Lent is something I could have planned. It's not at all what I had planned.

And it's so much better.

Getting back into our house the weekend of Passiontide was both a relief and a burden. We're just so, overwhelmingly, grateful to be home, to still have a home, and to start to get things back to normal. But it's also so painfully obvious how much further we have to go.

The house hadn't been lived in for five weeks. It had been through temperature fluctuations ranging from -18 to 55 degrees. The dust and dirt of winter plus that time of non-habitation plus fire and smoke meant every, single, thing needs attention.

It would be so easy not to deal with it. To pretend that everything is fine and not even start. And suddenly I realized how often we do that with those non-physical aspects of Lent.

How often are there issues in our own lives that are within our grasp to address, but we don't.
Maybe we think it will be too much effort.
Too much demand.
Too much change.
Too overwhelming.

Many of those things we need to address are easy to hide, easy to ignore. Yeah, it's not great to ignore your mental health, overindulge, or entertain destructive thought processes. But it's easy to hide and pretend everything is fine under the hood. We all know that's a bad long term plan, but do we do it? For sure. I do it too.

But it's so much better to deal with it. To get in the dirt and grime, and start to chip away at the hold it has on you.

As we go into Holy Week this year, think about what in your Lent needs a little elbow grease? Where could you push just a little further in these last days of Passiontide? Where could you let grace shine in a little more?