The Church Is His Home and His Home Is the Church

John Walsh knew where he was going.

Just out of high school in 1970, as he began studies at the Catholic seminary near his home in western Ireland, the path was clear. “Whenever you saw my name written it would always say, ‘John Walsh–Atlanta.’ I was always studying for the diocese of Atlanta.

“The reason for it was I felt they had enough priests over there. And the bishop of Atlanta had visited Ireland and talked about the diocese of Atlanta and said there was great need for priests.”

So when he was ordained into the priesthood in 1977, the Rev. John Walsh headed for Georgia. After long stays at parishes in Conyers and Peachtree City, he has settled in as pastor at Saint Joseph Catholic Church, living in a house on parish grounds that was built in 1852, rebuilt after the Civil War and may or may not be haunted.

Ghosts in a Catholic rectory? Heaven forbid.

Jim Arnold, facilities manager at St. Joseph and something of the parish historian, says the Rev. Paul Berny, who Father Walsh replaced in 2008, is one of those who have seen a spirit.

“It was used as a hospital during the Civil War, so people did die there,” Arnold said. “Of course, there are also rumors of Confederate gold being buried in the basement, but there is no basement.”

The three-story rectory atop a hill on Lacy Street, overlooking Wellstar Kennestone Hospital, is now home to the three priests of St. Joseph–the Rev. Michael Sherliza, the Rev. Omar Loggiodice and Father Walsh.

“This is our base,” the pastor said in his lilting Irish accent. “It’s the first time I’ve stayed in as old a house as this or as big as this. I was wary of coming into an old house because I thought there’d be creaks and drafts, but that’s not the case. This house has been well maintained.”

Records kept by Arnold in the nearby church offices show that the house was built by John Campbell.  It was all but destroyed during the battle of Kennesaw Mountain and rebuilt on the same site. The Campbell family lived there for 42 years. 

The house had been empty for some time when it was bought in 1937 by the Suhr family of Cleveland, Ohio. They did extensive renovations to the home that was originally called Fair View, then Campbell Hill, then Sugar Hill.

The St. Joseph parish bought the house in 1952. It has served as a business office as well as rectory for priests and was for a time the convent for the parish nuns.

“We do a lot of our work on the second floor,” Father Walsh said, sitting in the first-floor sitting room next to a large fireplace. “We have a kitchen there, in the middle, and a living room.  Father Michael lives on one side and I live on the other side.  I look out towards the hospital. 

“On the top floor is Father Omar.  In the past, when the nuns lived here, I think at one time there were 10 of them living on the top floor.”

The nuns have left the building, and the parish.  All the teachers and administrators at Saint Joseph Catholic School are laypersons.

Because his house, business office and school are next to each other, Father Walsh said most weekdays he stays on parish grounds.  Saturday and, of course, Sundays are busy with saying Mass for the 4,600 St. Joseph families.

“Most of the time I’m around about here,” Father Walsh said. “I might go downtown for a meeting, but between the house and the school and the hospital, my day is around here. Having the hospital so close is great. 

“Now, the day I usually head away would be Tuesday, and that’s the day that some of us Irish priests play a bit of golf together. We make a foursome most Tuesdays.  Sometimes you have a funeral or the weather doesn’t line up or something like that, but if the weather is any way good, we head off.”

This would be the perfect time to tell a joke, but, luckily, Father Walsh has one of his own.

“It’s good when we have a foursome because sometimes, if we have two or three and someone [joins us] they’ll ask, ‘What line of business do you do?’  We find it’s better off to be upfront and say, yes, we’re all priests. It takes them back for a little bit and then they begin to play on as usual.”

And when someone misses a two-foot putt?

“Sometimes,” says the pastor, his Irish eyes smiling, “words do come out of our mouths as well when we hit a ball that doesn’t go where we want it to go.” 

Father Walsh gets back to Ireland once a year. “I usually go back in July when it’s very hot here. I try to avoid a little but of that,” he said. “My parents have passed way, but my brothers and sisters are there. I stay around in [County] Mayo.”

When he left for Atlanta in 1977, Father Walsh remembers now that “my dad was against me coming. I was the oldest, and he didn’t want me leaving Ireland. But he came around.”

Since he’s been pastor at St. Joseph he’s felt those same types of family ties. “What I’ve noticed about Marietta is folks stay around here,” he said. “It’s so different for me from where I was.  My last assignment was as pastor in Peachtree City. We had a lot of airline people down there, a lot of people from up North. And they were there for a while and every once in a while their parents or grandparents would come in and there’d be a big celebration, but most didn’t really have any family around.

“What I’ve noticed in Marietta is that there’s a pull, a buzz, around this town that kind of keeps people here or brings them back.”

Other things remind him of the old country.

“I like the trains,” Father Walsh said. “I grew up in Ireland very close to the railway station.  My father worked on the railroad.  So when I’m here at night I like to hear the trains go through.

“Sometimes the planes are a bit much at the church. The lights shake when they go overhead.  But I like the trains.”