Jeff Anderson Settles Lawsuit with Archdiocese, Sets Up New "Child Protection Protocols"

By Jesse Marx
City Pages
October 14, 2014

http://blogs.citypages.com/blotter/2014/10/jeff_anderson_lawsuit_settlement_archdiocese_child_protection_protocols.php

Jeff Anderson & Associates

Al Michaud

Jeff Anderson hurries down the historic hallways of the Landmark Center in St. Paul dressed in a blue-pin-striped shirt with a white collar and pauses to hug two men. Both Jim Keenan and Al Michaud have been working with the attorney for years -- both victims of clerical sexual abuse.

"This is a good day," Anderson whispers and steps aside, revealing an odd sight: two priests.

Handshakes go round and one by one the men step into a room packed with reporters and cameras and survivors and pols -- many of the people who've had a stake in cleaning up the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis in the last couple years. Jennifer Haselberger, the former canon lawyer and whistle blower, stands in the back, smiling nervously.

They've come to hear Anderson announce the details of a sweeping settlement. His three-decade-long battle, though far from over, has come down to this: a 17-point "child protection protocol" that's intended to revive confidence in local parishes and remove the veil of secrecy  and silence that has plagued generations of sexual abuse survivors.

For instance, the plan forces the archdiocese to report allegations to law enforcement immediately and stay out of the investigation until it's completed. Meanwhile, the suspected priest will be pulled from active ministry and his personnel files open to scrutiny.

"This new era of cooperation is for you to come forward," Michaud tells any survivors who have yet to demand justice from archdiocese officials. "They're not against us anymore."

In its place, the archdiocese sent two priests whose reputations have not been tarnished over the past year, when the scandal broke. Anderson sued both the archdiocese and Diocese of Winona claiming that church officials protected sexual predators for decades -- specifically Thomas Adamson -- thereby creating a "public nuisance."

More than 50,000 pages of internal church documents have since been released proving Anderson's point: The holy men have been consumed with their own image and their power structure.

"I'm sorry," says Auxiliary Bishop Andrew Cozzens. "I'm sorry this happened. It shouldn't have."

The dollar amount has not been disclosed, but the most significant parts of the settlement are the intangibles -- nice gestures on paper that must now be backed up and defended by the archdiocese. This isn't the first time the archdiocese has promised to follow child protection protocols. What's changed is the inclusion of Tim O'Malley, a former investigator and the secular point person on sexual abuse claims, who's promising to run an independent and honest ship.

The financial impact of this lawsuit and others like it is still up in the air, and Cozzens says the archdiocese needs to review all of its options, including bankruptcy, which would prevent money from actually going to victims.

Before the conference concludes, Anderson invites any survivors of sexual abuse to join him. Nearly two dozen men line up and share a few private words with Cozzens and Charles Lachowitzer, vicar general. After greeting the men individually, Lachowitzer turns to face the lot, lifts his hands into the air, and bows.

Outside in the hallway, Bob Schwiderski, a hellraising advocate for survivors like himself, puts an arm around Rep. Steve Simon (DFL-Hopkins). In 2013, he co-authored the Child Victims Act, which removed the statute of limitations on child sexual assault claims for  three years (despite the lobbying efforts of the church). No one would be here today without it.

"You fought hard," Schwiderski says.

"So did you," Simon responds. "For longer than I."

Further down the hall is Michaud, the survivor, pacing slowly. A reporter approaches and asks whether his eyes had deceived him: Did you hug a priest just a moment ago

No, no, Michaud says. It was merely a handshake. He's not ready for anything more intimate than that. So he begins talking instead about all the work left to do, and the skepticism he still harbors in his heart. A stranger approaches, clutching his free hand.

"I just want you to know," she says. "You're not a victim. You're a prophet."

Michaud thanks her for the kind words, the tears welling in his eyes. She disappears down the stairs with a wave and Michaud turns his back to the few remaining people in the hallway so they won't see his face. He walks to the ledge of the third-floor atrium, where he can be alone.