My Father, the Priest
By James C. Graham
In 1993, during a meeting in Buffalo, N.Y., I learned that the man who had raised me was not my father and that the Rev. Thomas S. Sullivan, a priest from Lowell, likely was. After looking at the obituary and accompanying photo, there was no question in my mind that he was my father, since his facial features mirrored mine. But I never knew him, the result of a well-orchestrated scheme by the church to save its reputation during the conservative post-World War II era of the late ’40s. Even though the revelation occurred nearly a half-century after my birth, I found the church was intent on disguising my origin; it stonewalled me for years. In my quest for transparency, I interviewed many of my father’s contemporaries from the Oblate order. They were shocked by my likeness to their old friend. However, in every case, they referred to my father as Tom Sullivan, never as “your father.” Each meeting offered a bit of information about him; he was an eloquent speaker, an avid reader, a prolific writer, and witty. One priest asked, “Did you get the money for your education? We wanted to do the right thing.” When I said, “What money?” his facial expression twisted in anguish. At the end of a very revealing discussion, he offered this advice: “Forget the injustices of the past, you have good genes, get on with the rest of your life.” A few months later, I revisited the priest, who denied having said what he divulged in our first meeting. My most extraordinary meeting was with a nun who knew my father well. She wrote me a note following our luncheon, in which she said, “Ever since Saturday all I can see is your beautiful smiling face when I opened the door. You have no idea how you affected me. You are the very image of your father.” She was the only nun or clergy I met who said “your father.” Her words warmed my heart. The circumstantial evidence I have accumulated over the last two decades relating to me and my father is overwhelming; yet the church remains silent. In December 2017, Olan Horne, an advocate for survivors of priest abuse who took up my cause, told my story to Cardinal Sean O’Malley, in a move to get the Oblates to do the right thing. He was appointed by Pope Francis to advise a worldwide reform commission focused on sexual abuse in the church, and I hoped the cardinal would have the power and persuasion to bring resolution to my case. O’Malley called the US Provincial of the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate on my behalf, yet the stonewalling continued. Later, at my request and expense, the Oblates granted me permission to exhume my father’s remains to facilitate a DNA comparison. It is disturbing, though, that to prove my claim, I am left with this gruesome and emotionally painful process, when the church already knows the results. Why add more pain to a lifetime of pain? As a last resort, I sent a respectful and poignant letter to Cardinal O’Malley to abort the exhumation and replace it with the truth. A month after receiving my letter, at the 11th hour, the cardinal’s spokesperson wrote back to me, “The Cardinal does not have standing regarding the oversight of matters regarding the late Rev. Thomas Sullivan.” Lastly, the cardinal’s office offered his eminence’s prayers. I thank the cardinal for his prayers; however, this is not a matter for divine intervention. The men of the cloth need to state the truth — that I was denied my father, a basic human right, because he was a Catholic priest. James C. Graham has spent more than 25 years attempting to prove that Rev. Thomas S. Sullivan was his father.
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