Aug. 5, 2015

By Suzanne Pietropaoli
Staff writer

Malone is quiet once more. The television crews and helicopters have gone, the sirens are silent, and the endless convoys of law enforcement officers have returned to their home stations. Most of the blue ribbons and the “Thank you, Law Enforcement!” signs have disappeared, though a few linger here and there.

For seven days in June, all eyes were focused on this small rural area as it became ground zero in the massive manhunt for two Clinton Prison escapees.

The story was news across the country and around the world, covered by outlets like ABC, Reuters, and the BBC. Then and since, though, there emerge other stories: of a community coming together; of countless meals, constant coffee, and other expressions of concern for the searchers; of great gratitude for the security afforded by the diligence of more than 1,000 law enforcement officers.

But in the background is another story, of the ways in which faith shaped responses to this unusual and unnerving situation.

Father Joe Giroux, pastor of St. Andre Bessette parish in Malone, was on pilgrimage to Rome when the escape took place on June 6; he only became aware of it after landing in Montreal on June 11. Having missed several days of the news, he first sensed the scope of the search on June 14 as he drove back to Malone from a family visit for Father’s Day:

“There was an unusually high level of traffic for 10:00 on Sunday night on the back roads shortcut I was taking, which made me wonder if something was up.” 

Within days, the epicenter of the search had shifted to Owl’s Head, 10 miles south of Malone.

Even then, Father Giroux recalls, “Most parishioners went about their daily business and kept life as ‘normal’ as possible.

That was easier here in the village of Malone, away from the checkpoints, helicopters, and house-to-house searches. It was certainly ‘the’ topic of conversation and kept us a bit on edge.

The police presence was constant and very visible, making it impossible to forget about the search but also providing comfort in knowing so many were looking out for our safety.”

But there was a deeper meaning to these events.

“I certainly brought the whole thing to prayer—personally and in the parish,” Father Giroux relates.  “We remembered the law enforcement officers in the Prayer of the Faithful at Mass. We prayed, too, for Richard Matt at Mass the Sunday after he was killed.

“Once we knew the escapees were around Malone it occurred to me that, as the local pastor, I had a certain responsibility for their spiritual welfare as long as they were within our parish boundaries,” Father Giroux said. “I don’t know if either of the men were Catholic, and we were not called to provide the sacraments, but hope for their repentance and salvation were on my heart—not just hope for their capture.”

Father Giroux’s was not the only parish affected by the search.  Shortly after Matt’s death on June 26, the hunt for his accomplice shifted north to the village of Constable, already of interest because it is less than two and a half miles from Canada.

There, St. Francis of Assisi pastor Father Howard Venette explains, the community was likewise on the alert.
“Several local troopers and corrections officers involved in the search were either parishioners or relatives of parishioners,” he said. “We prayed for them, and for the escapees, at our Sunday Masses; we prayed for Richard Matt when we learned of his death. While people exhibited concern, I was not aware of anyone expressing fear. We were all quite thankful for the regular patrols and ongoing presence of the State Police.”

Still, the priest remembers, the situation was hard to ignore: “Going over to the church each morning, especially the week before the capture, I wondered if I might find myself surprised by the missing men,” Father Venette said. “But as I prepared my homily that week, it was consoling to read and take to heart the words of that Sunday’s Gospel—‘Don’t be afraid; just have faith’.”

While the escaped prisoners did not stop by St. Francis Church, the building sits on the same road where David Sweat was apprehended June 28.

“On the day of the capture,” Father Venette explains, “I had just come home from a Communion call in Trout River. I had been in the rectory no more than a couple of minutes when the church parking lot suddenly filled with trooper vehicles and was abuzz with activity. While I concluded that an area sighting had occurred, two ambulances proceeded down Poplar Street.

“The Press Republican website confirmed the sighting and presumed capture,” he said. “The escapee was caught perhaps three-quarters of a mile—as the crow flies—from the rectory. News cameras set up directly across from the church; reporters were doing interviews on my front lawn since many local people and many travelers had stopped, all congregating on the rectory lawn for an hour or so.”

Thus the search finished without drama, and without greater loss of life—the end for which so many area residents had prayed.

Among them was Kathleen Marceau of Malone, who leads a Catholic Education Group in a local prison.

“Our whole family was actively praying for everyone,” she said. “We prayed that the searchers would be safe, but that the convicts would be too—and that they would be apprehended without further violence.”

Stopping at roadblocks, and having their barn searched by State Troopers, were serious reminders of what was happening, adds 12-year-old Maggie Marceau, whose friend’s dad was among the Border Patrol agents who captured Richard Matt.

“It was a scary time,” she says, “but we still felt safe. It helped to be praying for everybody.”

Another Catholic, himself no stranger to life behind bars, speaks for all those who see with the eyes of faith: “When I heard that Richard Matt had been killed, I prayed for him. I begged God, if there was anything good in this man, please have mercy on him.”