A Farewell Sign of the Cross for Father Tom

There was a letter in the mail from Father Tom when I returned home March 6 from Hoag Hospital’s outpatient surgical center, after having had Dr. Kenneth Aaron go prospecting in my abdomen for what I like to call “monofilament blue fish line.”

Father Thomas M. Schneider is the Franciscan priest who had taught me how to make the sign of the cross properly before Dr. Aaron had performed major surgery on me nearly two years ago at Hoag. That was when the good surgeon had sewn up my stomach muscles with that stout fish line, and Father Tom’s sign had brought me comfort and courage, as well as a way of expressing my thankfulness for having survived the rigors of surgery.

I had made the sign a couple of times for good measure that morning before Ken Aaron embarked on his search for the fish line which had been giving me trouble. Then I had made the sign twice again when I walked out of the surgical center, once for Ken Aaron and his gentle expertise and once as a grateful gesture to God, if He weren’t too busy with more important matters to appreciate a little thanks from my direction.

Father Tom’s letter, dated March 5, was in the form of a thank you, too. “I did want to thank you for two wonderful articles you wrote--one at Thanksgiving. I used much of the material for a talk to my Kiwanis Club. Another that stood out for me was your tale of the missions, both in Alta and Baja California.

“I am a Franciscan who did most of my preparation for the priesthood in San Luis Rey and Santa Barbara missions. I was ordained in Santa Barbara in 1943,” he wrote.

Then Father Tom told of two heart attacks he had suffered and now, he said, “I face an angiogram tomorrow and possible surgery in Fountain Valley (Regional) Hospital.”

He ended his letter with a postscript: “Make a few signs of the cross for me.”

Needless to say, I immediately attended to his request, making a good flurry of them for him. I had a strong desire to visit Father Tom, if it were permitted, and talk with him, much in the spirit in which he had talked with me several times before when I was seriously ill and sorely worried.

Of course, I knew I would bungle it, for I lacked the skill and deep compassion that Father Tom brought to patients at Hoag Hospital when he was serving as chaplain along with the Protestant minister, Lloyd Sellers. These good men seemed to have a direct line through to The Almighty, while mine suffered from a chronic bad connection.

However, I was confident that Father Tom, always brimful of grace, would receive my bungling gracefully. If he were up to it, I would ask him to retell some of the wonderful stories of his work as a young priest with many of the tough, underprivileged youths in St. Joseph’s parish in Los Angeles.

He might relate with pride his successes with some of the toughest and how they grew into productive, responsible manhood. Once he was forced to belt one foul-mouthed ruffian on the chin, flooring him as a civilizing measure that worked miracles. He coached his boys and their gangs in basketball and baseball. He liked sports. For several years he was unofficial chaplain for the Los Angeles Rams, traveling with them a few times. The players liked him immensely.

I promptly telephoned the hospital to inquire about Father Tom’s condition. Alas, I was too late. Thomas Schneider, I was informed, had “expired.” He had died of massive heart failure while being wheeled to have his angiogram.

Father Tom, 68, is buried now in the churchyard of his beloved Santa Barbara Mission, at peace, I like to think, along with his many Franciscan brethren who have given California its first reverent monuments to a Christian religion, its chain of early missions.

Among the countless living who mourn the death of this good priest is Father Alex Manville, present pastor of Saints Simon and Jude Church in Huntington Beach. It was in this 75-year-old parish, oldest in the area, that Father Tom served as associate pastor from 1967 until 1979. He then became pastor until 1982.

“The strongest thing about Tom after he moved into the parish was his ability to work with and solace people in trouble. He was a genius at it. He had the greatest skills and compassion here of any priest I’ve known,” Father Alex said to me.

Father Alex hadn’t told me anything I didn’t know. With Father Tom’s hand on my brow as he prayed for me and my surgeons before I was wheeled more than once into the operating room, I have felt my knots of fear and anxiety unraveling.