During my youth, I passed through the heavy doors of St. Theresa Parish
hundreds of times after Mass. While most of those memories have vanished
into an amalgam of childhood impressions, I do recall a specific
encounter one Sunday with Fr. George Bredemann.
My mother chatted with him as we three children stood near. I recall him looking down at us and me feeling uncomfortable. Mostly, I remember his eyes.
http://www.ncronline.org/blogs/young-voices/why-best-chance-end-abuse-crisis-rests-you
My mother chatted with him as we three children stood near. I recall him looking down at us and me feeling uncomfortable. Mostly, I remember his eyes.
http://www.ncronline.org/blogs/young-voices/why-best-chance-end-abuse-crisis-rests-you