By Jason Warick
Star Phoenix
July 9, 2011
http://www.thestarphoenix.com/life/Priest+victims+speak/5076676/story.html
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Tim Ryan will never forget the day Father Hodgson Marshall called him into his office.
Ryan, then a thin, short 14-year-old boy, walked down to the basement of St. Paul's High School, an all-boys Catholic institution in downtown Saskatoon. "Father Hod," the physical education teacher and basketball coach, was sitting in his office adjacent to the gymnasium.
Ryan noticed the one-way mirror that had been installed on the wall, allowing Marshall to see into the boy's change room and shower.
Marshall got out of his chair and walked toward Ryan.
"I have to check you out," Marshall said. "I'd better feel your stomach muscles."
Marshall was convicted last month of sexually assaulting 16 boys and one girl over the course of three decades while working at schools across Ontario. After hearing of those convictions, Ryan and some other of Marshall's former Saskatoon students, now in their 60s, are coming forward. In a series of interviews with The StarPhoenix, they say Marshall abused them, too. They wonder how he could possibly escape detection by church and school officials during his 30-year reign of terror.
· · ·
Local church officials, as well as those from Marshall's religious order, the Basilians, offered their sympathy to anyone who was abused by Marshall at St. Paul's. They said there were no formal complaints and no signs of such behaviour by Marshall until an Ontario student came forward in 1996. This is the first they've heard about any possible Saskatoon victims, they said. They pledge to support anyone who requests their help.
"We don't want to be defensive. We want people's stories to be heard," Saskatoon Roman Catholic diocese Bishop Don Bolen said in an interview this week.
Bolen has written a statement on the issue expressing the church's "profound sadness and regret" and is asking that the statement be read at masses across the diocese tomorrow.
Father Timothy Scott, general councillor for the Basilians, also known as the Congregation of St. Basil, expressed similar sentiments when told of the Saskatoon developments.
"You hope and pray they can reach some peace in their lives."
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St. Paul's High School stood in downtown Saskatoon on the 400-block of 22nd St. E, current site of the Federated Cooperatives Ltd. building. Students played on a sports field where the Sheraton Cavalier hotel now sits.
It was the only Catholic high school in the city at the time - Holy Cross opened in the mid-1960s. The boys who attended came from all backgrounds. Some were from the typical two-parent middle class families, while others lived in poverty, came from broken homes or had criminal records.
Several of the 15 or so priests - some Basilians, some from other orders, on staff at any given time would go on to become bishops and other high offices within the church.
Similarly, the students appearing in the St. Paul's yearbooks went on to become some of the province's top lawyers, businessmen and athletes.
Many interviewed spoke fondly of their days at St. Paul's, saying the priests were good teachers and role models. Some even lauded Marshall.
"I thought he was a great guy," said Regina lawyer Tony Merchant.
"I was an altar boy, so he had a million opportunities to get at me, but he didn't.
"I am really surprised to hear all of this, and I'm very sorry for the victims."
At St. Paul's, discipline was strict and absolute. Strappings were common. And Marshall was particularly violent, many of them said.
"Old Marshall, he'd always pick on the smaller guys," said Joe Freed, a retired Saskatoon Catholic high school teacher.
"He was bloody cruel. Made me wonder why he wanted to be a teacher."
Aside from strappings and spankings, Marshall would often press on nerves under students' armpits or other areas until the boy was on the floor crying, Freed said.
Freed, who was strapped twice, transferred to Mount Royal Collegiate after his Grade 9 year to get away from Marshall, although Freed said he knew nothing of any potential sexual abuse.
Many of the classmates interviewed recalled the one-way mirror in Marshall's office, which he never concealed from students or staff.
Classmate Robert Bray also found Marshall to be "particularly cruel." At the beginning of each week, the first student to misbehave would have to lay across Marshall's lap and receive a hard spank. The second offender that week would get two, and it would continue to double until the end of the week.
One Friday, a boy was talking in class, Bray said. As it would take up too much class time to spank a boy 64 times, Marshall ordered them all to watch the ordeal in his office at noon hour.
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Tim Ryan, now 65 years old and a successful Saskatoon property developer, was a small child and a practical joker. Dan Perrins, a classmate and former deputy minister to Premier Lorne Calvert, recalled Ryan looking out an upper floor window, yelling for a priest to come and look. Another boy had laid on the roof of the teacher's car, pretending to have fallen to his death. The teacher panicked and was about to run downstairs when Ryan let him in on the joke. When asked about the incident, Ryan laughed and said; "You must have me confused with someone else."
Ryan said he enjoyed much of his time at St. Paul's, and said he made several lifelong friends. But that afternoon in Marshall's office more than 50 years ago coloured all other memories and destroyed his faith in the Catholic Church.
Ryan recalled the awkward feeling he had when Marshall made his unusual request, but Ryan complied.
"He's the gym teacher, the coach, so I said 'OK.' "
Marshall placed his hand on Ryan's stomach for a few seconds.
"Pretty soon, his hand was on my genitals," Ryan said.
Ryan froze, unable to move or speak as Marshall molested him.
"I was scared. He was the authority figure. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know what to do."
Classes had already ended for the day, and Ryan wondered if anyone else was left in the building. After 10, 20, 60 seconds - Ryan can't recall exactly - he was able to come up with an excuse to leave, and Marshall removed his hand.
As Ryan was leaving the office, Marshall told him to "come back tomorrow."
Ryan could barely sleep that night. He felt violated, confused and petrified of what Marshall might do the next day.
Ryan woke up and went to school. He didn't go into the basement, praying he would not see Marshall. Ryan made it through the day, and spent the rest of his time at St. Paul's high school avoiding Marshall.
Ryan told no one, not even his mother.
"It never occurred to me that I could say anything. He was a priest. At that time, who would have believed me?"
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Ryan didn't know it at the time, but one of his best friends, Gary Mulligan, also had a similar experience.
Mulligan, now a 65-year-old grandfather working in sales for a local home builder, broke his finger during an intramural football game at St. Paul's. Marshall offered to take the 14-year-old Mulligan to St. Paul's Hospital.
Mulligan was laying on a bed while they waited for the doctor. His broken finger, which was also severed below the nail and wrapped in a bloodied white towel, throbbed with pain. Marshall told Mulligan he needed to check if he was wearing a protective cup.
"He started fondling me over my uniform. Then he shoved his hand down my pants," Mulligan said.
Again, seconds passed as Mulligan froze.
"I finally thought, 'This isn't right,' and grabbed his hand and pushed it away.
Mulligan was treated, and Marshal drove him home with no further mention of the incident. At Mulligan's house, Marshall was invited in for dinner. He told Mulligan's parents the boy needed extra guidance and that he'd be happy to help.
Thankfully, Mulligan said, his parents never followed up the offer. Mulligan begged his father to let him change schools, but never told him about the incident at the hospital. His father declined. Like Ryan, Mulligan spent the rest of his high school years avoiding Marshall.
"I was too scared, and it was too embarrassing to tell," he said in a recent interview.
"And at school, who could you tell? They were all priests," he said.
Mulligan's eyes filled with tears as he pondered the guilt he now feels.
"Maybe if we'd said something we could've prevented a lot of this. But you have to understand how scared we were," he said.
"Even when people started coming out years back (about other abuse by priests), the church denied it."
A third Saskatoon man, who asked that his name not be used, said he was also one of Marshall's victims.
Marshall gave the boy a "whisker rub," pressing their cheeks together.
"The next thing I know, he's got his hands down my pants. I was staring at that dark green leatherette couch in his office wondering how to get out of there," he said.
"For the next two years, I tried to stay away from him."
Ryan and Mulligan have remained friends since high school, but only disclosed their secret to each other last month when news reports of Marshall's Ontario convictions surfaced.
Over coffee, Ryan told Mulligan, "You know, he got me."
Mulligan replied, "He got me, too."
The pair has decided to tell their stories so people know the full extent of Marshall's past.
Ryan is ambivalent about going tpressing charges, but Mulligan spoke to a Crown prosecutor about his options this week.
· · ·
The StarPhoenix attempted to contact Marshall through various channels but was unsuccessful.
Marshall is now 89 years old and in an Ontario prison for the next two years. If he survives, the Basilians have offered him a place at one of their homes.
Scott said Marshall's frequent transfers across Canada and later to the Caribbean were not unusual for members of the order. He noted that when the first victim came forward in 1996, Marshall was questioned immediately. He admitted it and was suspended immediately, Scott said.
Scott said it's up to the Vatican to defrock or "laicize" priests. A new policy allows this if any of the victims are under the age of 18, but Marshall's declared victims are all older, Scott said.
When asked if he or the Basilians would like to see Marshall stripped of his title, Scott replied, "We can't throw him out. Only the Vatican can, and they won't because of his age."
Bishop Bolen said in his statement the Saskatoon diocese had "no record or knowledge, nor had any suspicion, that criminal and immoral conduct was occurring in the school nor did it suspect Marshall was engaged in hurtful and morally inappropriate acts.
"The Diocese expresses its profound sadness and regret that young students, now mature adults, were violated by Marshall and have carried this burden with them for many years."
The diocese, which has had a policy on abuse in place since the early-1990s, invites any potential abuse victims to contact the diocese.
"Inappropriate conduct of any kind is neither condoned nor tolerated by the Diocese; and in the situation where the young and very vulnerable are entrusted to those in a position of trust and authority, zero tolerance of any questionable conduct is the norm and standard applicable," read the statement.
Classmate and former NHL player Bill Orban commended Ryan and Mulligan.
"I really admire those guys for standing up," Orban said.
"It's important to get this stuff out. Maybe it'll help others." jwarick@thestarphoenix.com
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