2023--Sister Stephanie's 60th Jubilee
June 22, 2023---Prologue
We fly to Los Angeles tomorrow. I’m not a fan of California. I like the weather, but I hate the politics, the crime, the crowds, and the woke mindset that is shoved down my throat with everything written or spoken about the state. Then why and I going? I love my Aunt, and she has a very special celebration coming up.
In July of 1963, Mary Ann Schenfeld, one of my Mom’s younger sisters, at age 18, took her vows to be a Carmelite Sister. She had been a nun, devoting her life to God, the teaching of his son, and general goodness for 60 years. I will have been breathing for 60 years upon that occasion.
I have promised her several times that come hell or high water, I would be there to celebrate her Diamond Jubilee with her. This has not come without complications. It was only a couple of months ago that we got the dates firmed up for when this would happen. I generally need to turn my vacation time in by March to get the days I want. But, since I’m a department head, and I have people who support me, I just let them know the general time I was expecting to go, and they worked around that.
The next difficulty was, me. I got fat. Ok, fatter. All of my old clothes are tight, and some are too tight. My suit fell into that latter category, but I did not think about the detail of trying it on until Tuesday night. Yes, two days ago. When it did not fit, that left the options open to a new suit from JC Penney’s, and an old suit from ARC, or roll the dice and order something from Amazon.
When the Amazon package came today, I got a black pair of pants, and a blue suit coat that did not fit. The pants need to be hemmed. Margo is working on that, and the jacket will be sent back. I will have to settle for a blue dress shirt, with my company logo on the cuff, a nice tie, and my brand new, cuffed pants. What would one of these trips be without some sort of drama or adventure?
I am looking forward to seeing my aunt. Her brother, Donnie (Unk), and Aunt Prim will also be there to celebrate. It should be a really nice time and I can’t wait to catch up with my family.
In July of 1963, Mary Ann Schenfeld, one of my Mom’s younger sisters, at age 18, took her vows to be a Carmelite Sister. She had been a nun, devoting her life to God, the teaching of his son, and general goodness for 60 years. I will have been breathing for 60 years upon that occasion.
I have promised her several times that come hell or high water, I would be there to celebrate her Diamond Jubilee with her. This has not come without complications. It was only a couple of months ago that we got the dates firmed up for when this would happen. I generally need to turn my vacation time in by March to get the days I want. But, since I’m a department head, and I have people who support me, I just let them know the general time I was expecting to go, and they worked around that.
The next difficulty was, me. I got fat. Ok, fatter. All of my old clothes are tight, and some are too tight. My suit fell into that latter category, but I did not think about the detail of trying it on until Tuesday night. Yes, two days ago. When it did not fit, that left the options open to a new suit from JC Penney’s, and an old suit from ARC, or roll the dice and order something from Amazon.
When the Amazon package came today, I got a black pair of pants, and a blue suit coat that did not fit. The pants need to be hemmed. Margo is working on that, and the jacket will be sent back. I will have to settle for a blue dress shirt, with my company logo on the cuff, a nice tie, and my brand new, cuffed pants. What would one of these trips be without some sort of drama or adventure?
I am looking forward to seeing my aunt. Her brother, Donnie (Unk), and Aunt Prim will also be there to celebrate. It should be a really nice time and I can’t wait to catch up with my family.
Day One---Friday, June 23, 2023
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I got up at 6 AM today with the intent of being on the road around 7 AM. We have a 9:40 flight and I wanted to give plenty of time because by the time this flight gets boarded, the airport will be very busy. We parked in the covered section of USAirport Parking because we were taking Margo’s Trailblazer and we have been getting a lot of weather as of late, including hail. Everything went mostly to plan and we were at our gate at about 8:30 and ready to board at 9:10.
I’m not a fan of Southwest’s boarding procedure. You board by assignment and those are given out based on how early you check-in. Check-in begins at exactly 24 hours before your flight is scheduled to take off. That means on Thursday at 9:40 AM we could check in. Usually Margo does that for both of us, but this time we had different confirmation numbers, so we needed to check in separately. She ended up in C-5 and I was in C-23. We would likely not be sitting together. But, as Margo’s ankle is still bothering her, she asked for pre-board when we checked in and we got to board after the first part of As. Why would be has such a crappy boarding position, if we checked in right away. Because for a fee, Southwest will check you both right as check-in starts, and in front of everyone who just tries to do it normally. It’s a big game, and like I said, I really hate it. But, if they went with assigned seating, you can count on window and aisle seats going for more money. |
Sister Stephanie and Margo shortly after arriving
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I was dead tired, and actually slept for most of the flight. Margo tired, but this one kid would go from zero to 120 decibels in one breath of air, and startle the whole cabin. Somehow, while acknowledging that it was happening, it never set off an adrenaline surge for me, and I would just shrug it off. Margo was not so lucky, and slept sporadically.
We landed, retrieved our bags, and were pretty happy to be in the much smaller, Ontario airport, than LAX. It was easy to navigate, and we for our bag nearly as soon as we arrived at baggage claim. We also lucked out with the rental car shuttle and were able to walk right on. When we arrived at our Alamo lot, that check-in went smoothly, although we did have a couple of people ahead of us.
I had rented a full-size vehicle for this trip, as I did not want to be cramped, and I wanted to keep options open for transporting people. I was given the choice, for the same price, of a white Chevy Malibu, or a red Dodge Charger. I figured the Charger would be getting me a ticket or would be stolen, so I stayed with the non-descript Chevy.
Traffic was heavy, but not horrible, grading on the Los Angeles curve. When we were in the Miami/Ft Lauderdale area in Jan of 2022, it was much worse there. We made a beeline for our hotel, the Best Western Pasadena Royale Inn, on Colorado Blvd. This stretch of road is important for two reasons; one historical, the other musical. Any '60s music fan should have immediately put together Pasadena and Colorado Blvd, from the Jan and Dean song “Little Old Lady from Pasadena”. Remembering her as the terror of Colorado Blvd. The historical reason; this stretch of Colorado Blvd is part of old Route 66. I’m going to have to check, but Margo and I, maybe, have driven parts of Route 66 in all eight states that it passes through.
Our hotel was an older one, maybe not quite at home in the heyday of Route 66, it was built in 1985, but it still had charm, and was well-maintained. I had been trying to stay in contact with Aunt Prim, to see when they would be arriving, but I had not heard back from them, so we decided to get some lunch. It was around 2 PM by then, and even though we had been invited to lunch at The Casa (the resident home for retired nuns), we figured there was no way they were waiting on us.
Basically across the street was a Mongolian BBQ place, the Golden Palace. We like that cuisine, so we walked over. It was in another older building, and not a chain. It was smaller in size than we were used to, with many fewer sections, but it was good enough. We had no trouble getting filled up, and soon we were walking back across the street.
Almost as soon as we got back to our room and made up our minds to head to Duarte, Uncle Donnie, and Aunt Prim drove into the hotel parking lot. Good timing. It was about 4 PM. They had driven from their home in Pahrump, making a single stop in Baker for a burger. It did not take them long to also be ready to go.
Aunt Prim had left her local directions at home. I had my GPS, but we could not find the right outlet to plug it in. We did later find it, but only after we had started using my phone and Google Maps to good effect. The big obstacle to getting to any place in the Los Angeles area is traffic. While it was not light by any stretch of the imagination, heading east was usually better than heading west, towards LA. In light traffic, it would take about 15 minutes. It took the four of us between 20 and 25, so tolerable.
We pulled in, Uncle Donnie dropped us all off at the door, and guess who was waiting there to let us in; the guest of honor herself; Sister Stephanie. We were let into the entrance hall of The Casa. The Casa is what the resident's house for the retired sisters is called. My aunt, after 60 years of service, is now retired and enjoying a less taxing part of her life. There was a sitting room off to the left and that is where the five of us went.
We spent the next 1 ½ hours visiting and catching up. The time went quickly, as soon a parade of nuns was moving down the hall, signally dinner time. Sister Stephanie asked if we would like to stay, but instead, we made plans to pick her up at 7:30 AM and go to breakfast, tomorrow, Saturday morning. We said our goodbyes and we were headed west to Pasadena.
We were all getting hungry and with no one having a better idea, I suggested Pepe’s, a Mexican place that had been in business for the last 50 years. I figured it must be good, so that is where I set Google Maps to take us.
We pulled into the lot, and I was immediately wary. I was expecting a sit-down restaurant. This had a drive-thru. When we walked in the door, I could see it was counter service, the same as any Burger King across the nation. Still, we were here and hungry. Everyone, except Aunt Prim, ended up with something that included a chili relleno.
I have never seen a chili relleno wrapped in a scrambled egg, but that is what we were served. No one really liked it. Margo did not eat most of hers. Uncle Donnie and I, did, more out of hunger and politeness, but not because it was yummy. Truth be told, if not for that strange relleno, the food was decent. Aunt Prim had no complaints about her Taco Salad, and the remainder of our combos were OK. But, we would not be making a repeat visit to Pepe’s.
We drove back to the hotel and made arrangements to meet at 7 AM, so we could drive to Duarte, and pick up Sister Stephanie at 7:30 PM. Traffic willing. I did my nightly routine with cash, expenses, and notes for the day. We were both in bed by 9 PM. It had felt like a much longer day.
We landed, retrieved our bags, and were pretty happy to be in the much smaller, Ontario airport, than LAX. It was easy to navigate, and we for our bag nearly as soon as we arrived at baggage claim. We also lucked out with the rental car shuttle and were able to walk right on. When we arrived at our Alamo lot, that check-in went smoothly, although we did have a couple of people ahead of us.
I had rented a full-size vehicle for this trip, as I did not want to be cramped, and I wanted to keep options open for transporting people. I was given the choice, for the same price, of a white Chevy Malibu, or a red Dodge Charger. I figured the Charger would be getting me a ticket or would be stolen, so I stayed with the non-descript Chevy.
Traffic was heavy, but not horrible, grading on the Los Angeles curve. When we were in the Miami/Ft Lauderdale area in Jan of 2022, it was much worse there. We made a beeline for our hotel, the Best Western Pasadena Royale Inn, on Colorado Blvd. This stretch of road is important for two reasons; one historical, the other musical. Any '60s music fan should have immediately put together Pasadena and Colorado Blvd, from the Jan and Dean song “Little Old Lady from Pasadena”. Remembering her as the terror of Colorado Blvd. The historical reason; this stretch of Colorado Blvd is part of old Route 66. I’m going to have to check, but Margo and I, maybe, have driven parts of Route 66 in all eight states that it passes through.
Our hotel was an older one, maybe not quite at home in the heyday of Route 66, it was built in 1985, but it still had charm, and was well-maintained. I had been trying to stay in contact with Aunt Prim, to see when they would be arriving, but I had not heard back from them, so we decided to get some lunch. It was around 2 PM by then, and even though we had been invited to lunch at The Casa (the resident home for retired nuns), we figured there was no way they were waiting on us.
Basically across the street was a Mongolian BBQ place, the Golden Palace. We like that cuisine, so we walked over. It was in another older building, and not a chain. It was smaller in size than we were used to, with many fewer sections, but it was good enough. We had no trouble getting filled up, and soon we were walking back across the street.
Almost as soon as we got back to our room and made up our minds to head to Duarte, Uncle Donnie, and Aunt Prim drove into the hotel parking lot. Good timing. It was about 4 PM. They had driven from their home in Pahrump, making a single stop in Baker for a burger. It did not take them long to also be ready to go.
Aunt Prim had left her local directions at home. I had my GPS, but we could not find the right outlet to plug it in. We did later find it, but only after we had started using my phone and Google Maps to good effect. The big obstacle to getting to any place in the Los Angeles area is traffic. While it was not light by any stretch of the imagination, heading east was usually better than heading west, towards LA. In light traffic, it would take about 15 minutes. It took the four of us between 20 and 25, so tolerable.
We pulled in, Uncle Donnie dropped us all off at the door, and guess who was waiting there to let us in; the guest of honor herself; Sister Stephanie. We were let into the entrance hall of The Casa. The Casa is what the resident's house for the retired sisters is called. My aunt, after 60 years of service, is now retired and enjoying a less taxing part of her life. There was a sitting room off to the left and that is where the five of us went.
We spent the next 1 ½ hours visiting and catching up. The time went quickly, as soon a parade of nuns was moving down the hall, signally dinner time. Sister Stephanie asked if we would like to stay, but instead, we made plans to pick her up at 7:30 AM and go to breakfast, tomorrow, Saturday morning. We said our goodbyes and we were headed west to Pasadena.
We were all getting hungry and with no one having a better idea, I suggested Pepe’s, a Mexican place that had been in business for the last 50 years. I figured it must be good, so that is where I set Google Maps to take us.
We pulled into the lot, and I was immediately wary. I was expecting a sit-down restaurant. This had a drive-thru. When we walked in the door, I could see it was counter service, the same as any Burger King across the nation. Still, we were here and hungry. Everyone, except Aunt Prim, ended up with something that included a chili relleno.
I have never seen a chili relleno wrapped in a scrambled egg, but that is what we were served. No one really liked it. Margo did not eat most of hers. Uncle Donnie and I, did, more out of hunger and politeness, but not because it was yummy. Truth be told, if not for that strange relleno, the food was decent. Aunt Prim had no complaints about her Taco Salad, and the remainder of our combos were OK. But, we would not be making a repeat visit to Pepe’s.
We drove back to the hotel and made arrangements to meet at 7 AM, so we could drive to Duarte, and pick up Sister Stephanie at 7:30 PM. Traffic willing. I did my nightly routine with cash, expenses, and notes for the day. We were both in bed by 9 PM. It had felt like a much longer day.
Day Two
Margo and I were up at 6 AM. Aunt Prim is like me, and not an early riser. Uncle Donnie sleeps about 5 hours a night and is up early. I am not sure how they worked their morning out, but Margo and I got up about the same time, with her getting started on her morning routine first. As planned, we were on the road by 7 AM.
I navigated and did a good job of relaying exit numbers and distance, to Uncle Donnie, who handled the California traffic like he did it all the time. I noticed he stayed in the right lane most of the time, which is usually the lane for cowards. But, much more often than not, this was the fastest-moving lane, so it was certainly the correct lane to be in. I would have hoped, had I been driving I would have noticed this and stayed right. Of course, maybe because this is California, too many people are prejudiced against anything right, leaving it for us. We got there at 7:25 AM, right on time.
We were let in by a member of the staff, who was working on some cleaning chore. I announced that we were there to kidnap Sister Stephanie and take her to breakfast. I expected a grin and a joke back, but she looked like she was unsure if she should slam the door or let us in. I quickly let her know that we had permission and that we would bring her back. But even as she let us in, she looked unsure. I must look more dangerous than I thought.
I had located a Denny’s, not trusting anything except a chain restaurant after last night’s night gastro-surprise. Everyone thought that was a good idea, and we were pulling into the parking lot, about 10 minutes later.
Denny’s gave us their menu, plus a special one touting their crepe breakfasts. The strawberry ones looked appealing to everyone. I think four out of five of us got that, with our choice of eggs being the only difference. They turned out to be very good. No complaints about this meal.
After we had finished and were making our small talk before leaving when a gentleman came over to our table to talk to Sister Stephanie and ask her some questions. We let him know that she was celebrating 60 years as a nun and he let us know he had a close relative who was also a habited nun. They had a nice conversation ending with him congratulating her on her achievement. Then it was back to the car and back to The Casa.
I had expressed an interest in seeing the grounds and all of the flowers that were planted there. Sister Stephanie was happy to get permission and lead us on a tour. We started with the courtyard, which is surrounded on all four sides making it very tranquil. There was a sister working diligently on one section of the garden, picking dead pieces of the plants to spur growth. There was another sister who joined us shortly and took several pictures of us together.
We moved outside the compound to several areas, all of them surprisingly quiet. There was not a ton of traffic in this area. We really were impressed by the several jacaranda trees that were on the grounds. They had very pretty purple flowers, which dominated the tree. There were green leaves, but all of the purple blotted them out.
There was a new area, still being finished. It had most of the plants in it, but the watering system was still being installed. There were no workers when we were there. It was going to be a very nice place to sit and read, pray, or just relax when it was finished.
After our tour, we went back inside to visit and reminisce some more. The time passed quickly and soon it was lunch time. We had made no plans, and Sister Stephanie asked if we would like to join her and the sisters for lunch. That sounded like an interesting experience, so we all jumped at the change.
The sisters had a cafeteria large enough for about 25 or 30 people and was set up to be served buffet-style. There were tables and benches. The tables had a drawer under each setting which could hold plenty of things, but in this case, a hymnal. This would come in handy, as because this was the feast day for St. James, we would be singing the blessing, instead of just listening to someone say grace, and we all say Amen.
This was a little intimidating because even with a hymnal, the words were very unfamiliar. It was not like we would be singing Happy Birthday. And, because even though the hymnal told us it was sung to the tune of “blank”, if I had ever heard of “blank” in my life, I could no more recall it than the first time I tasted chocolate. And, it would be done acapella, no music. If all of this was not enough, Sister Mary Michael, the sister in charge, mentioned she wanted us to make sure she could hear us. Gulp.
I could hear Uncle Donnie, who was right beside me. I could hear the sisters, who sang in loud clear voices, but that was it. I have no doubt the fear of lightning bolts prevented mouthing the words by my aunt and bride, but they likely were not singing in full voice. I confess to not either. My singing voice is not one of God’s gifts to the world.
The food was good, prepared by the cooks, rather than the sisters. As they had been serving God for many years, it was nice to see them served by someone else. There was a variety of things, with a couple of kinds of protein, chicken and beef, vegetables, fruit and nuts, and cookies for dessert.
After lunch, it was coming up on 2 PM, and we had made plans to leave and go do some shopping. Aunt Prim needed a card for tomorrow, we had forgotten a sundry or two, and Margo and Prim had come up with the idea of building a basket of goodies for the sisters to share. Things like cookies and candy were treats they did not often get.
We had made these plans because Sister Stephanie had told us that she would be leaving with the rest of the Jubilarians to go to the cathedral and practice. We recalled that last time Sister Stephanie had to be sequestered (probably not the right word), to pray and get ready spiritually for her celebration. Uncle Donnie and I were a bit puzzled as to what they needed to practice. Last time, they marched down the aisle and sat down for mass. They have been doing that for decades.
As it turned out there had been a communication failure, and the dispatch time was for Sunday and she had the afternoon free. We mentioned the shopping, but not the pending gift, and Sister Stephanie said she could take a nap. I was feeling a little guilty for not spending the afternoon with her, but I thought our hearts were in the right place, and we promised to come back after we were done.
We found a Walmart and spent the next two hours picking out the things we needed and then deciding on what to get the sisters. What started out as a gift basket, turned into a laundry basket filled with goodies, as there were so many things we wanted to include. Margo and Aunt Prim wanted to decorate the basket, so they got some red tulle, a net-like fabric. We got a card and were soon on our way to the hotel.
We went back to The Casa, arriving around 4 PM. I think it was time well spent, as we had so little time to visit. I had hoped to gather stories of when Sister Stephanie and Uncle Donnie were young, but the subjects did not come up, and there were very few lulls in the conversations. Sister Stephanie had indeed spent those couple of hours we were gone taking a nap.
I settled for learning why Sister Stephanie is known as Sister Stephanie Our Lady of Fatima. The extra on the end of her name is the equivalent of a surname, to distinguish between her and any other Sister Stephanie’s. She took the name shortly after she took her vows, 60 years ago. She chose the Our Lady part, and presumably, the senior sister or sisters picked of Fatima for her. We visited until 5:20, said our goodbyes, and told her we would see her tomorrow; the Big Day.
When we got back to the hotel, Margo and Aunt Prim got to work weaving the tulle in and out of the holes in the laundry basket and then backing it full of the goodies. They finished it up, by tying the ends of the tulle up in a bow, on one end of the basket. For a plain white laundry basket, it looked pretty good.
We were all hungry by now, and we decided on Olive Garden. We wanted something “safe” and Uncle Donnie wanted a place to grab a beer. We ate upstairs, and this was the first Olive Garden I had ever seen with an elevator. This ended up being the best meal of the trip for me. I had the Tour of Italy, and Uncle Donnie had Shrimp Alfredo, which I believe is his usual. I don’t recall what the ladies had. The food was good. We were all tired, so back to the hotel. We made plans to have breakfast at the hotel and said good night.
I navigated and did a good job of relaying exit numbers and distance, to Uncle Donnie, who handled the California traffic like he did it all the time. I noticed he stayed in the right lane most of the time, which is usually the lane for cowards. But, much more often than not, this was the fastest-moving lane, so it was certainly the correct lane to be in. I would have hoped, had I been driving I would have noticed this and stayed right. Of course, maybe because this is California, too many people are prejudiced against anything right, leaving it for us. We got there at 7:25 AM, right on time.
We were let in by a member of the staff, who was working on some cleaning chore. I announced that we were there to kidnap Sister Stephanie and take her to breakfast. I expected a grin and a joke back, but she looked like she was unsure if she should slam the door or let us in. I quickly let her know that we had permission and that we would bring her back. But even as she let us in, she looked unsure. I must look more dangerous than I thought.
I had located a Denny’s, not trusting anything except a chain restaurant after last night’s night gastro-surprise. Everyone thought that was a good idea, and we were pulling into the parking lot, about 10 minutes later.
Denny’s gave us their menu, plus a special one touting their crepe breakfasts. The strawberry ones looked appealing to everyone. I think four out of five of us got that, with our choice of eggs being the only difference. They turned out to be very good. No complaints about this meal.
After we had finished and were making our small talk before leaving when a gentleman came over to our table to talk to Sister Stephanie and ask her some questions. We let him know that she was celebrating 60 years as a nun and he let us know he had a close relative who was also a habited nun. They had a nice conversation ending with him congratulating her on her achievement. Then it was back to the car and back to The Casa.
I had expressed an interest in seeing the grounds and all of the flowers that were planted there. Sister Stephanie was happy to get permission and lead us on a tour. We started with the courtyard, which is surrounded on all four sides making it very tranquil. There was a sister working diligently on one section of the garden, picking dead pieces of the plants to spur growth. There was another sister who joined us shortly and took several pictures of us together.
We moved outside the compound to several areas, all of them surprisingly quiet. There was not a ton of traffic in this area. We really were impressed by the several jacaranda trees that were on the grounds. They had very pretty purple flowers, which dominated the tree. There were green leaves, but all of the purple blotted them out.
There was a new area, still being finished. It had most of the plants in it, but the watering system was still being installed. There were no workers when we were there. It was going to be a very nice place to sit and read, pray, or just relax when it was finished.
After our tour, we went back inside to visit and reminisce some more. The time passed quickly and soon it was lunch time. We had made no plans, and Sister Stephanie asked if we would like to join her and the sisters for lunch. That sounded like an interesting experience, so we all jumped at the change.
The sisters had a cafeteria large enough for about 25 or 30 people and was set up to be served buffet-style. There were tables and benches. The tables had a drawer under each setting which could hold plenty of things, but in this case, a hymnal. This would come in handy, as because this was the feast day for St. James, we would be singing the blessing, instead of just listening to someone say grace, and we all say Amen.
This was a little intimidating because even with a hymnal, the words were very unfamiliar. It was not like we would be singing Happy Birthday. And, because even though the hymnal told us it was sung to the tune of “blank”, if I had ever heard of “blank” in my life, I could no more recall it than the first time I tasted chocolate. And, it would be done acapella, no music. If all of this was not enough, Sister Mary Michael, the sister in charge, mentioned she wanted us to make sure she could hear us. Gulp.
I could hear Uncle Donnie, who was right beside me. I could hear the sisters, who sang in loud clear voices, but that was it. I have no doubt the fear of lightning bolts prevented mouthing the words by my aunt and bride, but they likely were not singing in full voice. I confess to not either. My singing voice is not one of God’s gifts to the world.
The food was good, prepared by the cooks, rather than the sisters. As they had been serving God for many years, it was nice to see them served by someone else. There was a variety of things, with a couple of kinds of protein, chicken and beef, vegetables, fruit and nuts, and cookies for dessert.
After lunch, it was coming up on 2 PM, and we had made plans to leave and go do some shopping. Aunt Prim needed a card for tomorrow, we had forgotten a sundry or two, and Margo and Prim had come up with the idea of building a basket of goodies for the sisters to share. Things like cookies and candy were treats they did not often get.
We had made these plans because Sister Stephanie had told us that she would be leaving with the rest of the Jubilarians to go to the cathedral and practice. We recalled that last time Sister Stephanie had to be sequestered (probably not the right word), to pray and get ready spiritually for her celebration. Uncle Donnie and I were a bit puzzled as to what they needed to practice. Last time, they marched down the aisle and sat down for mass. They have been doing that for decades.
As it turned out there had been a communication failure, and the dispatch time was for Sunday and she had the afternoon free. We mentioned the shopping, but not the pending gift, and Sister Stephanie said she could take a nap. I was feeling a little guilty for not spending the afternoon with her, but I thought our hearts were in the right place, and we promised to come back after we were done.
We found a Walmart and spent the next two hours picking out the things we needed and then deciding on what to get the sisters. What started out as a gift basket, turned into a laundry basket filled with goodies, as there were so many things we wanted to include. Margo and Aunt Prim wanted to decorate the basket, so they got some red tulle, a net-like fabric. We got a card and were soon on our way to the hotel.
We went back to The Casa, arriving around 4 PM. I think it was time well spent, as we had so little time to visit. I had hoped to gather stories of when Sister Stephanie and Uncle Donnie were young, but the subjects did not come up, and there were very few lulls in the conversations. Sister Stephanie had indeed spent those couple of hours we were gone taking a nap.
I settled for learning why Sister Stephanie is known as Sister Stephanie Our Lady of Fatima. The extra on the end of her name is the equivalent of a surname, to distinguish between her and any other Sister Stephanie’s. She took the name shortly after she took her vows, 60 years ago. She chose the Our Lady part, and presumably, the senior sister or sisters picked of Fatima for her. We visited until 5:20, said our goodbyes, and told her we would see her tomorrow; the Big Day.
When we got back to the hotel, Margo and Aunt Prim got to work weaving the tulle in and out of the holes in the laundry basket and then backing it full of the goodies. They finished it up, by tying the ends of the tulle up in a bow, on one end of the basket. For a plain white laundry basket, it looked pretty good.
We were all hungry by now, and we decided on Olive Garden. We wanted something “safe” and Uncle Donnie wanted a place to grab a beer. We ate upstairs, and this was the first Olive Garden I had ever seen with an elevator. This ended up being the best meal of the trip for me. I had the Tour of Italy, and Uncle Donnie had Shrimp Alfredo, which I believe is his usual. I don’t recall what the ladies had. The food was good. We were all tired, so back to the hotel. We made plans to have breakfast at the hotel and said good night.
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Day Three-
Today was the big day. Today we would celebrate Sister Stephanie’s Diamon Jubilee. My aunt had taken her vows as a Carmelite Sister 60 years ago, and I had taken my first breath within months of that event.
We were up at 7 AM and met Uncle Donnie and Aunt Prim downstairs for breakfast. We were to meet at 8 AM, and Margo and I were there at 7:45. The breakfast area was already packed. But, we managed and were all fueled up by 8:30. Then it was back upstairs to change into our good clothes for the event.
We all left together for the 9:30 AM. The mass was not until 3:30 PM, so we had plenty of time. The GPS got us there. It was fortunate for us that today was Sunday. Traffic was not bad, and thus not too frustrating to get to the church; The Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels.
A cathedral is the home of the bishop, who is in charge of the local diocese. A diocese is a regional group of churches. If I were thinking in terms of a corporation, the local parishes (priests) report to the bishop. If a bishop oversees a large diocese, he is usually called an archbishop, and his diocese is called an archdiocese. Or something to that effect. This cathedral has an archbishop, Jose Gomez. We were later told that this was the first time that Jubilees had been celebrated at this cathedral. This sounds like a big oversight by the church, until you realize that this cathedral has only been around since 2002. It replaced the Cathedral of St Vibiana, which was named after the earthquake of 1994 (Northridge).
We arrived way early, around 10 AM, with the mass not beginning until 4 PM. We did not have much of a plan. We would eat lunch and tour the cathedral prior. That was it. The Cathedral has its own underground parking garage, which was free for us today. So we found a spot and made our way to the area.
This church is barely 20 years old, so in addition to the parking garage, it also had a gift shop, The Cathedral Gift Shop, and a small café, The Galero Grill. We had just eaten a couple of hours ago, so off to the gift shop we went.
I had only the foggiest notion of what to expect from a gift shop sponsored by a Catholic Cathedral, but I was anxious to find out. We walked in and it was quiet and peaceful. It was still early on a Sunday morning, so I am sure that contributed. We started looking around. Crosses and crucifixes of every size were evident. From those worn around your neck to some large enough to be at home on an altar. They had pictures and plagues. They had books and movies. I had wondered if I was going to bring home any souvenirs for my team back at work. When I found a section of the store dedicated to metal coins of the saints, I had my answer. I cannot remember who I got for whom, but I did the best I could to match the personality to the saint. I do remember getting Mary a coin of St Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes. I also got Margo a coin for St Nicholas, who is the patron saint of shoppers. I bought Margo a silver cross necklace and we got a Thank You card for the sisters. It had been an educational and pleasant experience.
With none of us being hungry, we turned our attention to the cathedral. This was Sunday, so mass would be celebrated several times during the day. As luck would have it, it looked like mass was ending, as people were filing out. We walked down and walked in. The first thing you notice is the massive bronze doors. They are about 12 feet tall and I thought they were just part of the wall, as they were wide open. It wasn’t until I saw the hinges that I realized they were the actual doors. You enter the church, at least through these doors on the side of the church.
The nave, which is where everyone sits, is, as expected huge, with a grand high (cathedral?) ceiling. It has to be 100 feet tall and light fixtures drop down to around the 25-foot level. The nave is 300 feet long and seats 1,900. The walls are dominated by a series of 25-foot-tall tapestries. On the tapestries were saints and other biblical figures. They were painted all in a line looking forward, as if observing something wondrous. To me, it looked like a parade, with apostles Paul and Peter leading one side, and Joseph and Ann (grandmother of Jesus) leading the other side. The historic people were all painted as if they had been transported through time and dropped there. They looked like real people, with complex features, and period clothing.
We all walked around the church, each of us taking our own path, dwelling on things that were important or interesting to each of us. I saw a small exhibit celebrating the life of Bishop David O’Connell. I was later to find out that the bishop had been shot and killed by the husband of the housekeeper who worked for the bishop. No motive has been established, but the guy is in a mental hospital getting treatment until he is “well” enough to stand trial.
Mother Teresa had a small exhibit as well. It had several pictures and placards detailing her life. She was canonized in 2016, after passing away in 1997. Near this exhibit was a place to light a candle for someone in hopes that prayers would be enhanced or focused by the saint. We lit one for Veah, Misty’s step-granddaughter, as she was having teenage troubles, and needed all the help God could provide.
I was by myself at this point and discovered the sign indicating the presence of a mausoleum underneath the church. I have never seen a graveyard I did not want to wander around, and the opportunity to visit one under a cathedral was something never presented to me before.
I took the elevator down and discovered that in addition to crypts and niches for the dead, there were a couple of chapels, several alcoves, and a bunch (sixteen, I later learned) of stained-glass windows. It was a little slow to realize that these windows were not lit by natural light, being underground, but they were beautiful nonetheless.
I was interested to see who was interned in the church, but I really did not recognize any of the names I saw. Between crypts and niches, there were thousands of places for the deceased, and a great many were unmarked, and presumed vacant. I did later learn that Gregory Peck and his wife are there. He died in 2003, not that long after the church was completed.
We all met back upstairs and exited the cathedral with the intent of having lunch. We had spent well over an hour touring the large building and were all starting to get hungry. Lunch at the Grill was pedestrian. The food, none of which I can remember, was OK. The Grill opened to the main building, which via a walkway would take you to the gift shop. I think we all wandered the area, which had the feel of a vacant shopping mall, to the various windows and such, as we went to the bathroom, at our own calling.
After lunch, we found some shade and sat or wandered about the plaza. They had one area with some bronze statues. There was a shepherd dog and his sheep, and a large fish. The Plaza has an upper and lower area. The upper area, part of which overlooks the street, had a large walkway. The potion that overlooks the street is lined with clear glass, probably an acrylic, and engraved with a list of the donors responsible for helping to build the church. I did not recognize a lot of the names, but The Disney Family and Delores and Bob Hope were near the top.
At about 2:15 we decided to go find our seats. We knew that we had reserved pews, but we also were getting bored with our surroundings. It was a beautiful summer day and not terribly hot, but even paradise can get boring with nothing to do or see.
There were two pews reserved for the friends and family of Sister Stephanie. There were four of us; me, Margo, Uncle Donnie, and Aunt Prim. There were many others who would have liked to attend, but for one reason or another, could not. The four of us were proud to be there. The leftover pew space was not wasted, as Sister Mary Lawrence had a large contingent and quickly filled her assigned pews. We invited the spill over into “our” pews.
The mass was to be officiated by Archbishop Jose Gomez. There were about ten other priests or other church officials. I am not Catholic enough to tell you who had which title or who said which part of the mass. But, I later found that the church had videoed the service and posted it on YouTube. I found the link and it is below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEXtDHeUN-g
At the 26-minute mark, the archbishop begins the sermon. I found a transcript of it and put it on my site. Here is the link:
----Link to Archbishop Gomez's sermon
If you forward to about the 39-minute 30-second mark, you will see the archbishop begin to bless the crowns the sisters would be given. At about the 40:50 mark, the priest is walking down to give out the crowns and you see Sister Stephanie in the front pew. As he walks by in the third pew, second behind the sisters, you see Uncle Donnie in a white shirt, Aunt Prim in a black vest, Margo in a grey top and white sweater, and finally me, in a blue shirt. When it got to be Sister Stephanie’s turn, she was second in line, she managed to look both poised and nervous at the same time.
The entire mass lasted about an hour and a half. I would love to tell you what a beautiful experience it was, but it was boring. I’m a lapsed Catholic and have always found church services boring. When I was a kid I never listened to the sermon. I would zone out in seconds, with the entire message lost on me. I’m not much better now. I did try to listen to the Archbishop's sermon, but he doesn’t project well and has a pronounced accent. The transcript I am posting is the first time I have heard the words in my head.
The sisters all like Archbishop Gomez and I got a hint as to why when the pictures began. One of the Jubilarians, Sister Timothy Marie has a bad hip and standing for a prolonged period of time. As soon as he was made aware of it, he bid the photographers to get to the end of their tasks, so she could sit down.
There was a party planned at The Casa, which is what they call the Retreat House in Alhambra. Sister Stephanie was assigned to Alhambra for years. I went to visit her twice there when we vacationed in California. We left the church and all the sisters would get there via the van that brought them. We arrived way before the sisters got back. Somehow the van keys were dropped, but through divine intervention (no doubt) they were found and returned to Sister Mary Michael.
The Jubilarians were like rock stars today. They were being chauffeured around, had adoring fans, and specially reserved sections for them. Ten years ago when we were there for our aunt’s golden jubilee, it was a much more subdued affair. The dinner was supposed to start at 7 PM, but with the lost key incident it did not begin until about 7:40. It was very crowded. There were at least 200 people in attendance. There was a very nice buffet-style meal prepared and we had a nice time visiting and eating.
The festivities were not done, however. Once everyone was fed, watered, and talked out, we all piled back into the cars and pointed our way south to Pasadena and Duarte. We made a stop at our hotel to pick up the gift basket that the ladies had created, and then we got back on the highway. We still beat the sisters to Duarte.
The sisters at Duarte had outdone themselves there, too. The rock star treatment continued. There was more food, reserved tables, and a photo booth set up to take pictures. The Jubilarians had a lot of presents to open, but we did not get to see Sister Stephanie open gifts. When they were brought in Margo said she did not notice ours, but I had faith that it would make its way to her. We got her a simple wooden nativity scene, carved of Olive Wood, from a Bethlehem-born carver. I imagine it will end up as part of the decorations around the facility.
We were all invited for an evening prayer ceremony concerning the Jubilarian’s crowns. It was solemn, serene, and over in just a few minutes. After that, we said our goodbyes to everyone. It was after 10 PM, which was very late for the sisters. Monday would be a normal day for them. They would have to be up in just a few hours to start their daily routine. For us, it was back to the hotel. I wrote some. Margo dealt with the packing. Tomorrow we would fly home. Uncle Donnie and Aunt Prim have a five-hour drive in front of them.
That was it for our trip to Los Angeles. We were glad that we could be here to support and help Sister Stephanie celebrate her 60th anniversary. We will have to figure out a way to come back and visit her again. She tells us there won’t be another jubilee for her until the 70th. That seems like a very long time from now. We should not wait until then.
We were up at 7 AM and met Uncle Donnie and Aunt Prim downstairs for breakfast. We were to meet at 8 AM, and Margo and I were there at 7:45. The breakfast area was already packed. But, we managed and were all fueled up by 8:30. Then it was back upstairs to change into our good clothes for the event.
We all left together for the 9:30 AM. The mass was not until 3:30 PM, so we had plenty of time. The GPS got us there. It was fortunate for us that today was Sunday. Traffic was not bad, and thus not too frustrating to get to the church; The Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels.
A cathedral is the home of the bishop, who is in charge of the local diocese. A diocese is a regional group of churches. If I were thinking in terms of a corporation, the local parishes (priests) report to the bishop. If a bishop oversees a large diocese, he is usually called an archbishop, and his diocese is called an archdiocese. Or something to that effect. This cathedral has an archbishop, Jose Gomez. We were later told that this was the first time that Jubilees had been celebrated at this cathedral. This sounds like a big oversight by the church, until you realize that this cathedral has only been around since 2002. It replaced the Cathedral of St Vibiana, which was named after the earthquake of 1994 (Northridge).
We arrived way early, around 10 AM, with the mass not beginning until 4 PM. We did not have much of a plan. We would eat lunch and tour the cathedral prior. That was it. The Cathedral has its own underground parking garage, which was free for us today. So we found a spot and made our way to the area.
This church is barely 20 years old, so in addition to the parking garage, it also had a gift shop, The Cathedral Gift Shop, and a small café, The Galero Grill. We had just eaten a couple of hours ago, so off to the gift shop we went.
I had only the foggiest notion of what to expect from a gift shop sponsored by a Catholic Cathedral, but I was anxious to find out. We walked in and it was quiet and peaceful. It was still early on a Sunday morning, so I am sure that contributed. We started looking around. Crosses and crucifixes of every size were evident. From those worn around your neck to some large enough to be at home on an altar. They had pictures and plagues. They had books and movies. I had wondered if I was going to bring home any souvenirs for my team back at work. When I found a section of the store dedicated to metal coins of the saints, I had my answer. I cannot remember who I got for whom, but I did the best I could to match the personality to the saint. I do remember getting Mary a coin of St Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes. I also got Margo a coin for St Nicholas, who is the patron saint of shoppers. I bought Margo a silver cross necklace and we got a Thank You card for the sisters. It had been an educational and pleasant experience.
With none of us being hungry, we turned our attention to the cathedral. This was Sunday, so mass would be celebrated several times during the day. As luck would have it, it looked like mass was ending, as people were filing out. We walked down and walked in. The first thing you notice is the massive bronze doors. They are about 12 feet tall and I thought they were just part of the wall, as they were wide open. It wasn’t until I saw the hinges that I realized they were the actual doors. You enter the church, at least through these doors on the side of the church.
The nave, which is where everyone sits, is, as expected huge, with a grand high (cathedral?) ceiling. It has to be 100 feet tall and light fixtures drop down to around the 25-foot level. The nave is 300 feet long and seats 1,900. The walls are dominated by a series of 25-foot-tall tapestries. On the tapestries were saints and other biblical figures. They were painted all in a line looking forward, as if observing something wondrous. To me, it looked like a parade, with apostles Paul and Peter leading one side, and Joseph and Ann (grandmother of Jesus) leading the other side. The historic people were all painted as if they had been transported through time and dropped there. They looked like real people, with complex features, and period clothing.
We all walked around the church, each of us taking our own path, dwelling on things that were important or interesting to each of us. I saw a small exhibit celebrating the life of Bishop David O’Connell. I was later to find out that the bishop had been shot and killed by the husband of the housekeeper who worked for the bishop. No motive has been established, but the guy is in a mental hospital getting treatment until he is “well” enough to stand trial.
Mother Teresa had a small exhibit as well. It had several pictures and placards detailing her life. She was canonized in 2016, after passing away in 1997. Near this exhibit was a place to light a candle for someone in hopes that prayers would be enhanced or focused by the saint. We lit one for Veah, Misty’s step-granddaughter, as she was having teenage troubles, and needed all the help God could provide.
I was by myself at this point and discovered the sign indicating the presence of a mausoleum underneath the church. I have never seen a graveyard I did not want to wander around, and the opportunity to visit one under a cathedral was something never presented to me before.
I took the elevator down and discovered that in addition to crypts and niches for the dead, there were a couple of chapels, several alcoves, and a bunch (sixteen, I later learned) of stained-glass windows. It was a little slow to realize that these windows were not lit by natural light, being underground, but they were beautiful nonetheless.
I was interested to see who was interned in the church, but I really did not recognize any of the names I saw. Between crypts and niches, there were thousands of places for the deceased, and a great many were unmarked, and presumed vacant. I did later learn that Gregory Peck and his wife are there. He died in 2003, not that long after the church was completed.
We all met back upstairs and exited the cathedral with the intent of having lunch. We had spent well over an hour touring the large building and were all starting to get hungry. Lunch at the Grill was pedestrian. The food, none of which I can remember, was OK. The Grill opened to the main building, which via a walkway would take you to the gift shop. I think we all wandered the area, which had the feel of a vacant shopping mall, to the various windows and such, as we went to the bathroom, at our own calling.
After lunch, we found some shade and sat or wandered about the plaza. They had one area with some bronze statues. There was a shepherd dog and his sheep, and a large fish. The Plaza has an upper and lower area. The upper area, part of which overlooks the street, had a large walkway. The potion that overlooks the street is lined with clear glass, probably an acrylic, and engraved with a list of the donors responsible for helping to build the church. I did not recognize a lot of the names, but The Disney Family and Delores and Bob Hope were near the top.
At about 2:15 we decided to go find our seats. We knew that we had reserved pews, but we also were getting bored with our surroundings. It was a beautiful summer day and not terribly hot, but even paradise can get boring with nothing to do or see.
There were two pews reserved for the friends and family of Sister Stephanie. There were four of us; me, Margo, Uncle Donnie, and Aunt Prim. There were many others who would have liked to attend, but for one reason or another, could not. The four of us were proud to be there. The leftover pew space was not wasted, as Sister Mary Lawrence had a large contingent and quickly filled her assigned pews. We invited the spill over into “our” pews.
The mass was to be officiated by Archbishop Jose Gomez. There were about ten other priests or other church officials. I am not Catholic enough to tell you who had which title or who said which part of the mass. But, I later found that the church had videoed the service and posted it on YouTube. I found the link and it is below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEXtDHeUN-g
At the 26-minute mark, the archbishop begins the sermon. I found a transcript of it and put it on my site. Here is the link:
----Link to Archbishop Gomez's sermon
If you forward to about the 39-minute 30-second mark, you will see the archbishop begin to bless the crowns the sisters would be given. At about the 40:50 mark, the priest is walking down to give out the crowns and you see Sister Stephanie in the front pew. As he walks by in the third pew, second behind the sisters, you see Uncle Donnie in a white shirt, Aunt Prim in a black vest, Margo in a grey top and white sweater, and finally me, in a blue shirt. When it got to be Sister Stephanie’s turn, she was second in line, she managed to look both poised and nervous at the same time.
The entire mass lasted about an hour and a half. I would love to tell you what a beautiful experience it was, but it was boring. I’m a lapsed Catholic and have always found church services boring. When I was a kid I never listened to the sermon. I would zone out in seconds, with the entire message lost on me. I’m not much better now. I did try to listen to the Archbishop's sermon, but he doesn’t project well and has a pronounced accent. The transcript I am posting is the first time I have heard the words in my head.
The sisters all like Archbishop Gomez and I got a hint as to why when the pictures began. One of the Jubilarians, Sister Timothy Marie has a bad hip and standing for a prolonged period of time. As soon as he was made aware of it, he bid the photographers to get to the end of their tasks, so she could sit down.
There was a party planned at The Casa, which is what they call the Retreat House in Alhambra. Sister Stephanie was assigned to Alhambra for years. I went to visit her twice there when we vacationed in California. We left the church and all the sisters would get there via the van that brought them. We arrived way before the sisters got back. Somehow the van keys were dropped, but through divine intervention (no doubt) they were found and returned to Sister Mary Michael.
The Jubilarians were like rock stars today. They were being chauffeured around, had adoring fans, and specially reserved sections for them. Ten years ago when we were there for our aunt’s golden jubilee, it was a much more subdued affair. The dinner was supposed to start at 7 PM, but with the lost key incident it did not begin until about 7:40. It was very crowded. There were at least 200 people in attendance. There was a very nice buffet-style meal prepared and we had a nice time visiting and eating.
The festivities were not done, however. Once everyone was fed, watered, and talked out, we all piled back into the cars and pointed our way south to Pasadena and Duarte. We made a stop at our hotel to pick up the gift basket that the ladies had created, and then we got back on the highway. We still beat the sisters to Duarte.
The sisters at Duarte had outdone themselves there, too. The rock star treatment continued. There was more food, reserved tables, and a photo booth set up to take pictures. The Jubilarians had a lot of presents to open, but we did not get to see Sister Stephanie open gifts. When they were brought in Margo said she did not notice ours, but I had faith that it would make its way to her. We got her a simple wooden nativity scene, carved of Olive Wood, from a Bethlehem-born carver. I imagine it will end up as part of the decorations around the facility.
We were all invited for an evening prayer ceremony concerning the Jubilarian’s crowns. It was solemn, serene, and over in just a few minutes. After that, we said our goodbyes to everyone. It was after 10 PM, which was very late for the sisters. Monday would be a normal day for them. They would have to be up in just a few hours to start their daily routine. For us, it was back to the hotel. I wrote some. Margo dealt with the packing. Tomorrow we would fly home. Uncle Donnie and Aunt Prim have a five-hour drive in front of them.
That was it for our trip to Los Angeles. We were glad that we could be here to support and help Sister Stephanie celebrate her 60th anniversary. We will have to figure out a way to come back and visit her again. She tells us there won’t be another jubilee for her until the 70th. That seems like a very long time from now. We should not wait until then.
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