Tuesdays with Francis

by Patrick White

We noticed an elderly gentlemen sitting on one of the metal chairs that lined the walls of the Cathedral Hall. Jim McAuliffe allowed him in early at 2:30PM, well before all the Cathedral Kitchen guests entered at 4:00PM and the serving of the meal at 4:30PM. He sat on his own quietly and patiently. He sat stooped over, tired having traveled by bus and walked across town from Ballard. He carried a bag and sometimes a book to read. Often, he was given a cup of coffee to sip and occasionally he fell asleep in his chair. He often came up from the Central Seattle library where he had spent the morning. Now it was the time for his main meal of the day.

We would complete our preparations for the salads and go across the hall from the kitchens to sit with him. We discovered his name is Francis, Francis A. Troy. Born, he told us in his mild manner, in Albany, New York, on May 24th, 1913. He had four sisters and one brother, all still alive. His father died when he was in sixth grade so his mother went to work night and day to support the family by cleaning houses. Francis had a great love for his mother. "She's a saint" he would repeat, and "how I loved her."

He went to St. Agnes Catholic School. By this time the family had moved to Cleveland Ohio. He was an altar server. One Tuesday he quite spontaneously started reciting very clearly and correctly the altar boy responses in Latin that used to be said at the foot of the altar with the priest at the beginning of Mass. He felt disadvantaged at school because he went ahead of his age group and needed to spend time out of school supporting his family. He loved sports but did not make the teams because of his size. He loved football and later took up amateur boxing. His family moved again to an uncle's house in Oakham, Massachusetts. They needed "a roof over their heads," he said.

Francis graduated from West Tech High School and became a laborer while still at home. He married Anna when he was in his twenties and they had a daughter called Mary. We sensed that life for Francis was a struggle and he felt saddened mat he was not able to support his new family as he wished. In 1943 he was called up to the USAAF and was trained as a gunner in a B24 Liberator. He saw action in North Africa and, later, flew from Italy where his plane was shot down over Austria. He escaped from the nose turret of the B24 through the camera hatch and parachuted into captivity. Toward the end of the war he was marched from Eastern Germany into Belgium and France.

"How did you get to Seattle, Francis?" we asked. Work on the highways and on construction sites had attracted him to Wyoming. He reached Billings Montana on his intended journey to Wyoming. A bus strike prevented him from traveling to Wyoming but buses were running still to Seattle. So he came to live in Seattle for over 30 years, living at first in a small apartment near Pioneer Square, and now in a basement room beneath his niece's home in Ballard.

Sitting with Francis on Tuesday afternoons is our privilege. We look forward to listening to a man who has a genuine and touching appreciation for even the smallest kind act in his regard. His is a life of goodness mixed with, we believe, some unspoken suffering and sadness. "I've been coming here for quite a while" he would say modestly about his twenty years as a guest at the Cathedral Hall. Last Tuesday we signed a card for him. Unobtrusively, yet with a quiet joy, he celebrated his ninety fifth birthday.

Interested in getting involved in the Cathedral Kitchen?
Contact Jim & Jill McAuliffe at (206) 264-2091 to volunteer.