the news probably had been a reaction-his reaction-to that council. “Wasn’t that the Vatican Council in the early sixties?”
Moore was surprised. “Gee, Zoo, I didn’t think you paid any attention to religion. But, yeah, that was when the council was going on-early sixties.”
“Go on.” Tully was all business.
“Okay.” Moore rummaged through her tote bag. “I got some readouts and made some notes. Here we go. The early reports on Carson aren’t all that inflammatory. I think they were included in his file based on hindsight I think that after he got to be a newsmaker, they went back to find some sort of things, no matter how innocuous, that he was involved in earlier. But it notes that he was among the earliest members of a group called Catholics United for the Faith. It seems to be a pretty popular movement. Most people know it by its initials, CUF. Then he went on to a more extreme group called the Tridentines. That’s when he begins to get some individual attention in the media.”
Tully remembered Koesler’s explanation of the right-wing reaction to the council. Without that briefing, this would not have made a lot of sense.
Moore looked up from her notes inquiringly as if asking whether she need go into detail about these groups. Tully caught the subtle query. “Go ahead.”
Moore shrugged. If he thought he understood all this, it was all right with her. But she was at a loss to know how he did it.
She resumed. “It was just a little while after he joined the Tridentines that he became the group’s leader.”
Moore, a lifelong Catholic, well remembered the aftereffects of the council and the turmoil that had ensued, particularly in this archdiocese. Cardinal-then Archbishop-Boyle was elected the first president of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. He had been extremely active and influential in that Vatican Council. And he saw to it that the changes and developments ordered by the council were implemented in his archdiocese.
That was by no means the reaction of other bishops and archbishops. One of those changes involved encouraging the laity to get more deeply involved in everything from parish life to policymaking on an archdiocesan level. People reflecting the spirit as well as the letter of the council took this bit and ran with it.
Meanwhile, CUF, not to mention the far more militant Tridentines, were generally opposed to the letter of the council. The less easily defined “spirit” of the council was, in the eyes of the right wing, an abomination.
Thus, in those early days there were many public meetings and gatherings sponsored by and starring, for want of a better designation, Church liberals. At most of these meetings, the right wing was conspicuously present, frequently and vociferously led by Arnold Carson.
Without the presence of Carson, along with his faithful few followers, these meetings would have been peaceable and calm on the whole. With Carson and crew present, they frequenyly degenerated into angry confrontations and occasionally even some measure of violence and reaction.
Moore attempted to explain all this briefly to Tully. He accepted her explanation, knowledgeable about part but by no means all of the history.
“See,” Moore continued, “once Carson got to be the leader of the Tridentines, he was bound to make news. From the very nature of the organization and the fact that it existed just when it did-when all the changes were taking place. So”-she glanced again through the notes and readouts-”there were some arrests, lots of charges of ‘police brutality,’ and plenty of media coverage for Arnold Carson.
“In the seventies”-Moore continued to finger through her notes-”diere was a Catholic ‘Call to Action’ meeting. It was a national meeting hosted by Detroit. Sort of a put-into-practice-what-we-learned-from-the-council. Carson and some of his friends showed up, carrying a banner hailing Boyle as the ‘red’ Cardinal-in effect calling him a commie. Which in Tridentine terms is about the bottom of the barrel.
“Then there’s a note about the time he pushed a priest down the steps of a church-”
“Wait,” Tully cut in, “some violence? An arrest?”
“The priest didn’t press charges. But here’s the funny thing: The priest was Father Fred Stapleton!”
“The one who-?”
“The same. Carson shows up almost any time you’d expect a right-wing reaction. He was part of a protest when Martin Luther King was here. And if there’s any kind of peace march, he’s out there buzzing and opposing it. I mention this just to show that he’s an all-purpose fanatic. But mostly he’s a religious fanatic.”
“How about abortion?” Tully asked.
“You got it. Almost any time there’s either a pro-choice or pro-life rally, or-as happens most often-both at the same time and place, he’s there.”
Tully massaged his right eyebrow. “But no violence,” he mused.
“Outside of that one incident where he shoved the priest. Maybe he’s mellowed out. If he’s been active this long, he must be getting on in years.”
“He’s close to retirement. You’re right about that, Zoo-but he’s hardly mellowing. The night of the wake for that hooker, Helen Donovan, he and a couple of buddies were harassing some of the mourners. It got sticky when some hookers showed up for the service.”
“Wait a minute … I was at that wake.”
“It must have happened before you got there, Zoo. Some uniforms were called and cleared them out. Took Carson to the hospital.”
“A fight?”
“Just some pushing and shoving. Carson ended up with a cut lip. Nothing major. No arrests. No charges.”
“I don’t know,” Tully said. “There’s not much physical going on in what you found. Sounds like he talks a good fight.”
“Wait, Zoo. I phoned the postal branch where he works. He’s not working there anymore.”
Tully looked at her inquiringly.
“He’s been suspended by the post office. He’s appealing the penalty and it’ll probably be a minor punishment that could be reduced.”
“What did he do?”
“Got in a fight-a no-holds-barred fight with a co-worker.”
“Um.” Tully made a relieved sound, as if he’d found the missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle.
“I got this from one of the guys who witnessed the fight, It began when this guy named Hessler started riding Carson about religion. Things like accusing Carson of getting horny over the Blessed Mother.”
“Sounds like a sweet character.”
“He’s the town bully, Zoo. Big guy. Make maybe two of Carson. But he kept at it until Carson blew his cork. Then Carson tore into him. Now I’ll quote this guy I talked to.…” Moore read from her notes. “‘I never saw anything like it,’ he said, ‘Arnie’-that’s Carson-’Arnie didn’t stand a chance.’” She looked up from her notes. “Not only is Hessler twice as big as Arnie, according to my witness, he’s a brutal slob with a real mean disposition. He’s been in lots of fights, usually with smaller guys. He doesn’t just win his fights, he punishes the other guys-beats ’em up. This guy said he was really scared for Carson. Hessler wasn’t just having fun picking on a smaller guy like he usually does; Hessler was mad.” She quoted again from her notes.” ’Cause when he was givin’ it to Arnie-with his mouth, that is-Arnie was givin’ it right back to him. Pretty good, too.’”? She looked up from her notes again. “But when Hessler made that crack about the Blessed Mother, Carson tore right into him.”
As Angie looked down at her notes again, it was hard to tell whether she was quoting verbatim or acting out what she had been told. “‘Well, Hessler starts by givin’ Arnie this rap on the ears. I seen it before: Once Hessler does that, the other guy is in the ozone. I thought old Arn would fold right there. And since Hessler is really sore, I thought we’d be pickin’ Arnie up with a blotter. But would you believe it? Arnie plows right in like Hessler had kissed him instead of paralyzing him. Arnie was … he was …
“‘To make a long story short, we had to pull Arnie off Hessler or so help me, he woulda killed him. He really woulda.’“
Moore looked up, pleased with her notes of the account. “Now, does that sound to you like a guy who has mellowed out?”
Tully, pleased also, shook his head.
“Carson’s supervisor called 911 and a couple of uniforms got them out of there and filed a report. Of course
