OUR LADY OF THE LAKE PARISH AND I

                OUR LADY OF THE LAKE PARISH AND I

     I came to Green Lake as a bride just three months after I had been baptized in St. Stanislaus church, Stevens Point.  Everything in life seemed strange--marriage, farm life, new acquaintances and even my new found religion--all seemed strange.  I had many questions about many things and received many answers, but whenever I asked questions about church articles or practices, I seemed to receive one of two stock answers.  One was, "I don't know," and the other was "If you don't know that how come they let you in the Church?"  I soon stopped asking questions like that.  I found consolation inside the church.  There it was so quiet and peaceful!  That is what I remember most about the original Our Lady of the Lake church--the quiet, peaceful feeling that seemed to comfort me as I sat in the pew.  In those days even a very low whisper was frowned upon, so no one disturbed my reveries.

     While the outside of the church was simple in design, the interior had been richly ornamented.  The stained glass windows, the sanctuary, the side altars, the walls and ceiling were ornate, mysterious and complex but also pleasant and very interesting.  The three altars and the superstructures behind them were white trimmed with gold, artistic scrolls and designs.  Statues of Mary, Jesus, Joseph, St. Anthony, the Infant of Prague, and the Pieta adorned the church.  Above the opening to the sanctuary was painted "the eye of God" who watched over us and our doings.  On the ceiling were various pictures.  The one that captured my fancy the most depicted a fountain with many streams of water flowing out through openings all around the edge of a basin atop a pedestal, reminding us of the many blessings flowing down upon us.

     This original church of Our Lady of the Lake parish stood on the corner of Lake and Ruth streets overlooking Lake street, the Blue Roof Cottages and Dartford Bay.  Its steeple towered above the trees.  Both it and the Lutheran church steeple could be seen across Dartford Bay from state highway 23 (now South Lawson drive).  My husband, Charley, spoke of past winter days when he walked to church cutting across the bay on the ice.

     The first car we used to drive to church was an old Graham Paige.  In 1944, when we needed a car, it was still war time; cars and their parts were nearly impossible to get.  The Graham Paige had been "junked" and Charley bought it from the junk man for $50.00.  He repaired it himself--at least enough so it would run.  Replacement parts for it were impossible to obtain.  When the fuel pump failed, he added an additional gas tank which he mounted higher than the motor to form a gravity gas feed system.  When the transmission failed and the distance between the crank shaft and rear axle was too long for any single transmission available, he put in two used transmissions hooked up in series, resulting in two floor shifting levers, one in back of the other.  When both transmissions were in reverse gear, the car moved forward.

     Parking near the church was limited.  Cars were parked mostly on Lake Street in front of the church.  People who parked on Ruth Street had farther to walk to the church door, so they preferred to park on Lake.  Often in summer when many cars were parked on both sides of Lake Street during church services, traffic past the church on that street was reduced to a single lane.

    
When I came here in 1944 the old original church of Our Lady of the Lake parish was 36 years old, having been built in 1908.  The church vestibule was the lowest part of the steeple tower.  Upon entering the double doors a row of wooden pegs was on the wall to the right.  They could be used to hang up coats or hats.  On the left side hung the rope that rang the bell.  Mounted near it was the poor box in which alms money could be dropped.  Straight ahead were the inner doors to the church interior.

     The parish had no resident priest.  Instead a Capuchin Father living at St. Lawrence Seminary would usually come from Mt. Calvary on Sunday morning to celebrate two masses.  He also officiated at whatever other sacraments were requested of him.

     On designated Sundays in January the trustees stood in the vestibule and collected "pew rent," which was really a yearly church support.  In the early days when the parish had only one mass, each family had its own pew in which to sit, giving rise to the term "pew rent."  By the 1940s increased attendance required two masses to accommodate everyone who wished to worship there, and individually assigned pews became an impracticality.  But the term "pew rent" continued to be used, and each parishioner family was expected to pay $25 a year for it.  In addition to "pew rent" offertory collections were taken up at each mass.  The walls of the church were quite thick causing the window sills to be deep.  Charley was not the only man who used those sills to park his hat.  Yes, men going to church wore dark felt hats with a carefully made crease in the crown.  They had to be taken off when the owner passed through the church door.  So what to do with the hat?  The wooden pegs in the vestibule could be used to hang hats, but many men did not want to leave their hat unattended.  To leave the hat resting on the pew meant risking someone coming along and sitting on it, crushing its carefully maintained shape.  Leaving it on the window sill was safe, handy, and within sight.

     On the other hand women did not dare enter the church without their "head covered."  I remember a strong gust of wind sailing my hat into a mud puddle.  I fetched it out of the puddle, brushed it the best I could with a handkerchief, and put it back on my head.  I did not dare go into the church without a hat!  I hated hat pins but they did have a purpose.

     An Altar Society had been organized.  Their monthly meetings were held in private homes.  They sponsored some card parties which were also held in private homes.  For 25 cents a person could have an evening's entertainment, a light refreshment and a chance at a door prize.  For another quarter they could often buy a chance on a pair of embroidered pillow cases or some other fancy work that was raffled off at the party.

     About the first year we were married the women tried a new gimmick to make money.  They cut cotton material into the shape of little aprons approximately 5 or 6 inches long and sewed big pockets on them, distributing them to all the ladies of the parish.  The pocket had a note telling the receiver to measure her waist, put in the pocket a cent for every inch measured, and give the apron back to the Altar Society.  Shortly before my twins were born two of the ladies brought one out to the farm for me.  They took one look at my waist line and told me they wouldn't expect me to give that much money.

     After this contact I began to attend Altar Society meetings.  For some time if I heard some one call "Harriet" they meant Harriette Egbert.  If they called "Mrs. Shikoski" they meant my mother-in-law.  Both these women were active members and I learned not to answer every time I thought I heard my name.

     In 1946 Fr. Stephen Szczerbiak was assigned as a permanent pastor of Our Lady of the Lake parish.  There was no rectory for him to live in.  The only buildings on the church property were the church and a wide shallow shed which was in back of the church and open on the south side toward Ruth street.  It had been built in the early days of the parish to shelter the horses of those who came to church in buggies or cutters.  By the 1940s no one any longer came to church with horses, and the shed was not used for anything.  It was torn down to make room for the rectory which was built in that area.

     While the rectory was being built, Fr. Steve lived in a building at Oakwood.  It was while he lived there that he was instrumental in saving some Peter's Pence money.

     Peter's Pence was a charitable collection that was taken up in all the Catholic churches in the diocese on the same Sunday.  Late that Sunday afternoon Fr. Steve received a telephone call from the Green Lake County sheriff, telling him that reports had come in from several different priests who stated that a young man had approached them with a hard luck story.  The priests individually had tried to help him but when he was gone the Peter's Pence collection of that church was also gone.  One such incidence supposedly happened in Fond du Lac.

     Not long after this call a young man knocked on Fr. Steve's door and gave him a hard luck story.  Fr. Steve invited him in and fixed a nice supper for him.  While eating he asked Fr. Steve how the Peter's Pence collection had gone.  Were the people generous this year?   Wasn't he afraid to keep all that money in the house?  Fr. Steve told him he wouldn't think of bringing that much money home with him!  He had deposited it in the night deposit box at the bank as soon as he could.

     Fr. Steve then urged some more food on the fellow, telling him to eat while he could, as he might not get another hand out very soon.  He then told him that he had to go down to tend the furnace.  He went down stairs, rattled the furnace, quickly got the license number and make of the car the man drove, rattled the furnace some more, and went back upstairs.  The man left soon after that and Father called the sheriff.

     The man was apprehended just as he was walking away with the Peter's Pence money from a priest in Wautoma.  Most of the money the thief had taken was recovered.

     Now the story that was told around was that Fr. Steve had not deposited the money in the night deposit, but had dumped it out on a dresser in his bedroom which had only a curtain for a door.  The thief had been left alone within a few feet of the money, with only a curtain between him and it, but evidently had not looked behind that curtain when Fr. Steve had left to "tend the furnace."  The Peter's Pence collection of Our Lady of the Lake was undisturbed.

     In January, 1951, Fr. Steve moved into the new rectory which was not completely finished until March.  In April he passed away.  Fr. Roger Idzikowski succeeded Fr. Steve as pastor.

     Fr. Roger encouraged children's Christmas parties which were enjoyed by many whether they belonged to the parish or not.  Each child was asked to bring a dozen cookies and a 25 cent gift with his own name on it.  Games like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey were played; songs were sung; often a short entertaining film was viewed.  Magdalene Shikoski made coffee for the parents; milk was donated for making hot cocoa for the children, and mountains of a great variety of cookies were shared by all.  Santa Claus came with a bag of goodies for each child.  He also distributed the gifts they had brought for themselves.  Some children knew what gift their mothers had wrapped for them, but most did not.

     Children's Halloween parties were also held, where bobbing for apples hanging on strings was an attraction.  They dressed up in costumes.  I remember my little daughter in her costume parading around the house telling me how she was going to "scare someone."  When it came time to leave for the party she refused to walk out the door to the car because she was so afraid of the dark.  So much for "scaring someone!"

     In 1956 Fr. Roger was transferred to the parishes of Markesan and Kingston; Fr. Francis S. Karwata was transferred from Princeton to Green Lake.  At that time catechism classes for the grade school children were held each Saturday morning at 10:00.  They were taught by the School Sisters of Notre Dame stationed in Berlin.  The first Saturday that the new priest was here, I was trying to get some work done before driving the children to catechism and time ran out for me.  I had the choice of stopping to clean myself up and making the children tardy, or chauffeuring them in my old dirty dress.  I chose the latter.  After leaving the children off at church, I wanted to buy a few items at the grocery store before heading home.  No one seemed to be around so I took a chance that no one would see me in my dirty dress if I just slipped in and out of the store quickly.  I was paying for my purchase and ready to leave when in walked Conrad Naparalla, the church trustee, with the new pastor, Fr. Karwata.  Conrad was introducing him to all the parishioners they happened to meet in town.  Conscious of my disheveled appearance I consoled myself by thinking that he was meeting so many people he wouldn't remember me the next time he saw me.  Wrong!  He looked right at me and said, "Oh, I know who you are.  You're Maggie Shikoski's daughter-in-law."  Forever tagged as disreputable!

     It was while Fr. Karwata was pastor that the whole church, including the weathered gray shingles of the steeple, were painted white.  I first noticed that white steeple when driving to town one day.  As I neared "Kelm's Corner" I could see the steeple through the branches of the trees that were growing along the road, and for awhile I could not figure out what it was that I was seeing.  I had never seen that before.  In 1984 the steeple of Our Lady of the Lake church was lifted from the original church and set on a new foundation.  No more could this steeple be seen rising above the trees from South Lawson Drive across Dartford Bay.

     During Fr. Karwata's pastorate a picnic-bazaar was held on the lawn south of the old church.  Games were played using equipment borrowed from another parish as Our Lady of the Lake people had not sponsored such an affair, at least not for a long, long time.  An auction was held.

     The church did not have the equipment to make enough coffee for the expected crowd at this bazaar.  Several 80-pound-size milk cans were borrowed from a farmer; coffee grounds were loosely tied into cheese cloth and put in the cans.  The cans were then taken to the Brooklyn Creamery where live steam was blown into the cans, leaving them about three fourths full of nearly boiling water.  The bumpy ride on the truck driving from creamery to church agitated the steeping coffee.  The ladies fished out the cheese cloth bags and viola! eight gallons of coffee in each can.  And most people did not know that the coffee was not made in regular coffee urns.

     To wash dishes and silverware a laundry stand with dual square, galvanized wash tubs was set up on the grounds between the old church and the rectory.  Men carried hot water from the rectory to the tubs, and the dirty water was thrown on the grass.

     In January, 1959, Pope John XXIII announced his intention to convoke the second Vatican Council, and churches began to experiment with different liturgical ideas.  For Easter, 1959, Fr. Karwata celebrated a midnight mass.  Easter vigil service with its somber overtones began at 11:00 p.m.  The darkness, the bare altar, the wooden clappers, and the a cappella choir of the vigil suddenly gave way at midnight to the bright lights, the appearance of the altar cloth, lilies and candles, the ringing of bells and the joyful singing with organ accompaniment.  It was very impressive to me.

     In June, 1958, Our Lady of the Lake parish celebrated its Golden Jubilee.  Bishop William P. O'Connor presided and preached at the eleven o'clock solemn Jubilee Mass.  Afterwards a dinner was served in the Green Lake High School gymnasium.  It was on this occasion that the bishop urged the parish to build a new church, one that would be large enough to adequately serve the increased number of worshipers in Green Lake.  After the dinner and speech  Bishop O'Connor asked to be guided to the kitchen that he might thank those who had cooked and served the dinner.  Not being familiar with the recently built school edition, the bishop and his guide became confused.  They went through the wrong door, ended up in a pantry, heard the noise from the kitchen beyond another door, and ended up entering the kitchen from the pantry.  It just so happened that I was there facing the pantry door finishing my ice cream when the bishop suddenly stood not two feet in front of me!  I was flabbergasted!  Nothing in my life had taught me how to greet a bishop, especially in such a sudden circumstance.  I genuflected and he held out his episcopal ring for me to kiss.  All I could think of was that my mouth was smeared with ice cream and there was no napkin in sight.  Should I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand or just ignore my smeary lips?  I ignored them, but I have a feeling that the next person who kissed his ring tasted ice cream.

     In October, 1959, Fr. Karwata passed away.  Fr. Carl J. Wagner was assigned as pastor of Our Lady of the Lake parish in January, 1960.  Plans to build a new larger church advanced rapidly.  Fr. Wagner was the carpenter, mason, and general contractor as well as pastor.  He worked closely with Ralph Sanger, a contractor from Janesville.  Fr. Wagner believed that the congregation should work together to build their own church.  He urged parishioners to donate their time and talent as well as treasure toward the construction of the new church.  Charley was one of those who responded with his labor.  Years before he had worked as a carpenter at Lawsonia under the direction of Otto Bierman.  He had worked on the Lawsonia Country Club (now a part of the Roger Williams Hotel), the Ann Hathaway Cottage, and other buildings on the property then owned by H. O. Stone Company.  Though he preferred farming to carpentry, Charley had built the house in which we lived with a minimum of hired help.  When the new church was built he donated as much of his carpentry skills as he could without neglecting his farming operation.  When he went to work on the church he usually took along with him our two oldest sons (teenagers) who helped fetch, tote bricks, or whatever else they could do to help.  The three were sometimes dubbed the FBI, so called by one of the sons as standing for Father, Brother, and I.

     Soon after Fr. Wagner came the parish acquired Mrs. Marshall's Jam Kitchen, popularly called the "Pickle Factory" because of its use in the 1940s.  It was used to store building materials and tools.  Its kitchen was used during a summer bazaar in 1960.  The kitchen was huge and bare of conveniences, but it did have a large sink and hot water on tap, so much handier for washing dishes than laundry tubs standing in the grass.  Tables and chairs were set up on the cement subfloor of the church being built.  The trusses were in place but there were no walls or roof.  A canvas was spread over the trusses for shade, or for protection in case of rain.

     On Easter Sunday, 1961, the first mass was celebrated in the new church.  The church had been built on the parking lot, and parking again became a problem.  A new parking lot was developed on the other side of Ruth street.

     The pickle factory was also used for catechism classes while the new church was being built.  Nuns from St. Stanislaus, Berlin, continued to teach grade school children of Our Lady of the Lake parish.  Parents of these children were expected to take their turn driving to Berlin to get the sisters before classes began and taking them back to their convent afterward.  The first time I chauffeured them it was disconcerting to have the two nuns get in the back seat and pray audibly all the way from Berlin to Green Lake,  I had the feeling they didn't trust my driving ability, but I soon learned that they prayed no matter who drove them.

     After the new church was built the old church was used as a church hall where meetings of the Altar Society, Holy Name, card parties and other money making affairs were held.  The former sanctuary became a kitchen where storage units were built and an electric stove was installed.  A serving counter with storage shelves below was built where the former communion rail had been.  Fr. Wagner wanted to bring running water into the building but was prohibited by the state Industrial Commission regulations.  Water for washing dishes had to be carried in from an outside hydrant and heated on the stove.  Dishes were washed and rinsed in dish pans set on a table.

     For years while Fr. Wagner was pastor, a painting of Fr. Marquette stopping at St. Marie along the Fox River graced the south wall of Our Lady of the Lake parish hall (old church).  It had once hung in the church at St. Marie.  When the St. Marie church was demolished it was taken to St. Patrick's church in Princeton.  Before 1960 Fr. Wagner had been pastor at St. James' in Neshkoro with a mission at St. Patrick's.  He was the last pastor of St. Patrick's church before it was torn down.

     In her will Kathryn Dunn left her house and its furnishings to the Altar Society.  They were sold at auction and the money was used to purchase a white Italian marble statue of the Virgin Mary.  It was mounted over a fountain that was built approximately where the present flag poles are now.  Four jets of water rose up out of the fountain.  It became the model for the art work that still appears on the parish bulletins.  This statue, given in memory of the Dunn family, has since been transferred to the Garden of Prayer and stands near the entrance from Ruth street.

     Fr. Wagner was pastor of Our Lady of the Lake for 18 years.  Before he retired in 1978 he mentioned that the dark green curtains hanging from the altar rail were worn and needed replacement, but he was going to let the next pastor worry about replacing them.  The next pastor solved the problem neatly by disposing of the altar rail.

     Fr. Lawrence Clark became pastor of Our Lady of the Lake parish in June 1978.  He wanted people to be closer to the altar and to more closely associate together as a family.  Under his pastorate the church built in 1960 was remodeled, moving the sanctuary from the west end of the church to the north side and creating a family room where the sanctuary, sacristy and choir room had been.  The exposed trusses were covered and the cement block walls were finished.  This remodeling was a hotly discussed contention.  One visiting priest speaking from the lectern mentioned that it was the first time he had ever preached where he had to "swivel his neck."  The remodeling had not been completed when Fr. Clark succumbed to a fatal heart attack.

     In November, 1981, Fr. Leo A. Joyce became pastor of Our Lady of the Lake parish.  It was through his guidance that the best of the old was preserved and incorporated into the new.  The stained glass windows of the original church were installed in the newer edifice.  The statues of the Sacred Heart, Mary, Joseph, and St. Therese were brought in to grace the interior of the church.  The east entrance with its baptistery was built.  What was once the main entrance to the church was bricked up and was made into a chapel, creating a beautiful environment for visits to the Blessed Sacrament.

     Fr. Leo was a man who loved plants--all plants, even cacti.  He was also a man who could have as pets a dog, a cat, a bird and a fish, and have them all live in peace.  One day as we were talking he asked me if I could help count the collection money.  He seemed to regret his impulse almost immediately for he exclaimed, "No, I guess you can't." Quickly I assured him I could and thus began a closer relationship between the affairs of Our Lady of the Lake parish and me.  I don't think he regretted it. I hope not.

     Fr. Leo's dream of a prayer garden where all could come to relax and enjoy God's creation became a reality.  Trees, shrubs, plants and flowers for continuous color were planted.  The steeple was lifted from the old church and set on a new foundation with the old bell replaced in it.  The entrance of the garden is through a vine covered trellis on Ruth street.  A paved walk leads from the entrance toward the statue of Mary, Our Lady of the Lake, which had been moved there from its former place south of the church.  The garden has benches for those who wish to relax, sort things out, enjoy the setting or just plain sit. 

     As the parish grew the shortage of adequate catechetical classrooms became critical.  Fr. Leo also desired classrooms where Christian faith and precepts could be taught in relative peace, quiet and convenience.  Plans for an addition to the church was made.  The Caestecker Learning Center became a reality and was dedicated in September, 1989.

     Many changes had occurred throughout the years and the physical plant of the parish had been greatly improved--more adequate, more convenient, more versatile and more aesthetic.  Fr. Leo was pleased with the physical and financial health of the parish, but declared that the parishioners needed more spiritual attention and help.  Unfortunately Fr. Leo's health began to fail.  We struggled with him that we might continue to strive for that greater spirituality but not all goals we set for ourselves are reached.  His health eventually forced him to retire and it became the calling of his successor to continue this effort.

     In June, 1993, Fr. John R. Dowd became pastor of Our Lady of the Lake parish.  I had worked closely with Fr. Leo, more closely than with any other pastor.  It is not always easy to accept a change, but life goes on.  Fr. John has accomplished much in promoting my knowledge and desire to be a good spiritual person.

     A lot of water has emptied out of Green Lake since I came to live near it more than fifty years ago.  Our Lady of the Lake parish has seen great changes, from a small cramped church and an open shed, to a church that seats three times as many people, having in addition a family room with kitchen facilities, four versatile classrooms, three offices, several large storerooms, a rectory, two parking lots, and a beautiful Prayer Garden.  English has replaced Latin.  Gifted musicians and congregational participation has enhanced our worship.