A great man, A great loss
-By Mike Moore
We all knew him in our own unique way, yet in a way unique to only him, we all knew him exactly the same.
He was the face of the parish, the character behind what Divine Child stood for. He was the old man with the quick step, the raspy voice, the white hair and that unmistakable wry smile.
If you stepped out of line, he was there to put you back in place. If you needed a shoulder to lean on or an ear to talk to, his door was always open. If you had a joke to tell, even if he was the punch line, he’d share a laugh, then follow it with a quick jab to the shoulder.
He came to Divine Child in February of 1961, known then as Reverand Herman Kucyk, quickly appointed to Associate Pastor. In 1976 he became the face, voice and symbol of Dearborn’s most revered parish, named Pastor of Divine Child, designated as the No. 1 Falcon. By 1990 he was called Monsignor, but he was known for so much more.
As pastor he would watch over, mentor and guide Divine Child. It was his home. his calling, his passion. He traveled the grade school as would a proud grandfather, looking over the generations to come with an unyielding gratification. He paced the high school, evaluating his students like a builder would a nearly completed house, so much work, time and effort already dedicated, but the finishing touches still to come.
If you didn’t think he cared about every last detail, just take a walk to the parking lot. An unbearable sun beating down, the cruelest of summer days, and there he was. A straw hat to shade his face, a cane to brace his step, stubbornly making sure every last inch of the refurbished parking lot was done correctly.
If you thought money was tight, take a look at the state-of-the-art gymnasium, the tuition he battled to keep reasonable, the teachers who spent a lifetime working under his lead.
There are a million ways to describe Fr. K, yet none of them does justice to who he was and what he meant to the parish that housed him. Whether he performed a baptism, celebrated a wedding, gave the sacrament of reconciliation or just shook your hand and asked how life was going, he did it with a genuine spirit few could match.
He personified what Divine Child stood for, his faith never yielding, his dedication unwavering. He was, in every sense of the word, a true Catholic, one who loved his job, cherished his calling, and spread his faith. He inspired those who looked up to him, gained the respect of those who worked for him and probably loved the fear he put in those who didn’t exactly know him. Sure, he could be rough around the edges, intimidating to talk to at times, but deep down, for those who knew him best, he embodied the Christ he loved.
Born in Montreal, Wis. in 1926, before he was Fr. K, he was a member of the United States Navy and an employee of Ford Motor Company before entering Sacred Heart Seminary. Following his June 1, 1957 ordination, he served as an associate pastor at St. Isaac Jogues Parish in St. Clair Shores from 1957 to 1961; came to Divine Child until 1966, was assigned to Our Lady of Good Counsel in Plymouth for a year before heading to St. Michael Parish in Monroe (1966-67); and St. Robert Bellarmine Parish, in Redford Township (1967-71).
His home was, and forever will be Divine Child, though.
Whether it was pacing the sidelines of a football game, eating lunch with students during fifth hour or just checking up on his gardens on the campus grounds, he was the most recognizable and most respected Divine Child man there ever was.
For 83 years he served his faith. For the last 52, he did it from a pulpit where all could hear and all could embrace. At times his homilies may have drifted from course, but they always came straight from the heart. His services may have been quicker than most, but you left feeling inspired, as if that Sunday morning was hand-delivered from the God he loved.
There is no doubt Divine Child has suffered a great loss. While Fr. K was less visible in his time since retiring, his presence was never in doubt. The keys to the parish were handed over, but that stubborn old boss, in one way or another, was still in charge.
Somehow, at 83, he was down to earth enough to relate to those his age, yet hip enough to still be cool to those generations younger, and he had the respect of everyone in between.
It was a certain honor to talk to him, and if he knew who you by name, your smile was impossible to hide.
He loved the Blessed Mother, which, in a way, is fitting that he left this earth on the day his high school celebrated May Crowning.
Over the past few years his health had deteriorated. He was a far cry from the man he once was. Once seemingly immortal, like the trees he so often cared for, you couldn’t help but think he’d be around forever. But as the weeks and months passed, that quick step grew slower, that raspy voice suddenly sounded weaker — immortal he was not.
Yet now, as his life on earth has come to an end, it’s the beginning of something new we celebrate and rally around. His earthly sufferings have passed, his seat in God’s kingdom now occupied.
When he’s laid to rest, his grave will yield January 10, 1926 – May 15, 2009. But what should, and will forever stand out, is not the dates that define when his life began and ended, but that little dash that tells the story of everything he did and everyone he led.
It’s hard to imagine Divine Chile without thinking of Fr. K, hard to envision the red, black and grey without picturing that smiling old man. But as the parish, school and community he helped shape will forever live on, so to will the spirit he spent a lifetime establishing.
Mike Moore is a 2001 Divine Child graduate, a Sports Writer for C & G Publishing in Warren and a play-by-play commentator for JTV in Jackson. You can reach Mike at mjm12@albion.edu.
