There is a new building now, that houses St. Rita’s Church, in Presque Isle. But prior to that, St. Rita’s was a smaller, red brick, church that was built around 1950.
My family lived in the house just to the west of the church. On the other side was a house that served as a rectory if there was a priest available to live there. Priests from out of state, used to spend their vacations there as well. And that’s where I come in.
In 1957, a priest, Fr. DeWitt came to spend the summer at the church. One day, he saw me sitting outside and asked if I ever thought about becoming an altar boy (there were none in town at that time). I was excited about this opportunity and quickly obtained permission from my parents to do this.
Over the next few weeks, Fr. DeWitt taught me all the prayers and everything I needed to do at the mass. (Back then the mass was still said in Latin, so learning the prayers was a somewhat formidable task for this seven yr. old kid…
Nearly three weeks into my training, Fr. DeWitt declared that, in his opinion, I was ready to officially assume my duties as an altar boy. One Saturday morning, he called me over to the rectory and announced that I would be serving Mass the next day. I was both nervous and excited! Even better, Fr. DeWitt opened a package that he has at his side. Inside was a small black cassock, and a brilliant white surplice. I think my hands may have actually been shaking as I tried on those fine garments. He must have spoken with my mom and got my measurements, as the cassock was just the right length, and the surplice fit perfectly. I could hardly wait until Mass the next morning.
Since we had not told anyone in town of my altar boy training, everyone who attended Mass that Sunday was taken by complete surprise as Fr. DeWitt followed me from the sacristy. As we took our places in front of the altar, I could hear a few gasps, and lots of murmurs from the parishioners. At one point I was able to steal a glance at my family, sitting in the front pew, and saw that both my parents were wearing wide smiles. Later on, my sisters would tell me that mom had tears in her eyes, and dad looked proud as a peacock. As for me, my stomach was filled with butterflies but at the same time, I also felt an inner peace and confidence that I didn’t know I possessed. I probably would have been much more nervous had we been facing the congregation, but the church had not yet made that change, so we faced the altar with our backs to the assembly.
After the Kyrie and the Gloria, I took my place, sitting on a chair by the left side of the sanctuary, while Fr. DeWitt read the Epistle and the Gospel. He then began his sermon by saying,
“As you can see, we have a new addition here at St. Rita’s. Billy and I have been working very hard these last few weeks so he could become the very first altar boy in your church. I, along with his family, are very proud that he has accepted this honor to serve the Lord, and the parish of St. Rita’s....”
And so, that is how St. Rita’s finally got its first altar boy. I served mass for the next four years, sometimes sharing the altar boy duties with my two cousins, Pat and Tom Finnegan, who became mass servers the next summer.
Permission for placement of this cache was obtained from Fr. Pasala, Pastor, St. Rita's Church, Presque Isle, WI