First Person:
By Augie Bareño

    The Shelltown neighborhood of Logan Heights located in San Diego, Ca is defined by its boundaries, of Wabash and 32nd and National Avenue on the west, south to Main Street and Division Street, east to 43rd and South Crest Park, and north to Ocean view Blvd. In the 1950s, which was the time, I was growing up in its commercial center was the corner of 38th and National Ave.

    The corner was comprised of Fares Mkt, Spanglers Pharmacy, Bailey’s Hardware, the 38Th Club, Salmon Malt Shop, The Ten-twenty Club and most significantly, Woodie’s Liquor Store. Suffice it to say, Woodie’s Liquor Store, the Ten –Twenty club and the 38Th club were sources of major excitement for us kids because there would be fights among the adults or some wino would try to steal a bottle out of Woodie’s and he’d catch them and administer a little street  justice. The San Diego Police Department had virtually no presence in the neighborhood, we grew up assuming that Manuel “Suky” Smith Jr, one of the early Mexican-American officer and Johnnie Williams, an African-American officer were responsible for law enforcement in all of Logan Heights. Generally, people in the neighborhood took care of business, on their own and resolved most problems. As a kid, if you messed around, the adults would straighten you out, right on the spot, or if it was serious, they’d go straight to your house and tell your parents and punishment would be handled, in front of the adult who complained, case closed.

    The four blocks between 38th and National Ave and 38th and Boston and Z Street were the busiest because everybody used them to go to the market, bars, malt shop, etc. It became the corridor of the community, which everyone had to use both day and night. It also was the most lighted, as it sat in the shadow of the lights of St Jude’s church at 38th and Boston Ave.

    St Judes Church was founded in the 1940’s by the families in the area and with the support and guidance of Father Dicristina, the beloved founding priest who organized the community and held its first mass in old Navy Quonset Hut that was moved on the site by the men in the neighborhood. Father Dicristina, who was beloved by the community, is especially remembered for the Hollywood movie stars he would bring to the St Jude annual bazaar, like Lash Larue, Hopalong Cassidy and many more.

    The families that help build the church at the time, had just gotten over World War 2 and in some cases, they had lost sons in combat. The families with names like Espinoza, Diaz, and Esparza and other groups in the area like Italians, philipinos and anglos, sacrificed so that the church could grow and the spiritual needs of their children could be met. These families asked for very little from the church, for they were comforted in the knowledge, that future generations would have a church that would give them spiritual nourishment and respect their humanity. The first church site was later converted in to a Community Hall, where in the mid to late fifties, some of the best teenage dances in all of San Diego took place, featuring performers like Rosie and the Originals and of course singing her Hit “Angel Baby”, The Velvetones who had a sax player Benny Holman, who would one day be the Musical Director for the famed Frankie Laine and a San Diego Iconic figure, as the leader of the San Diego Chargers Band.

    There were also performers, who left an impression, yet eventually faded into obscurity. One that left a lasting impression on me, was a singer called “Ronnie Montoya and the Premiers, who had a local hit song called “Sharon”, which I’m sure was probably sold and distributed exclusively in Logan Heights. While we were, too young to get in to the actual dance, we always volunteered to clean up the church hall, after the dance, so that gave us kids access, to the last half hour of the dance.

    Through the years, St Jude has had many outstanding priests, who have done a wonderful job on behalf of the parish and the school, beloved priest like Monsignor Ned Brockhaus, Father Simms, Father Henry Rodriquez and many, many more, who have done great service to the parish and neighborhood. The church still continues its good work, in 2011.

    In October of 2010, as part of the legal settlement, the diocese of San Diego had to release background documents relating to that priest, whose abuse accusations, had been sustained and were part of the settlement. The media reports were saying that the documents would soon be put on line, for public access. Naturally when they became available; I scanned the list, recognized some, others not so much.

    As I began to review the names, I see the name of the late Father Gregory Sheridan, pastor, St Judes, 1954 to 1970. I spent the next 4 or 5 hours reviewing all the documents pertaining to Father Sheridan.

    I grew up around Father Sheridan, he was the disciplinarian for St Judes’ school, when I attended there, he was, so much a part of my life. The abuse he committed, while so, devastating, to his victim, didn’t surprise me, because us kids in the neighborhood, who at night patrolled that four block corridor from Boston Ave to 38th and National Ave, would see Father Sheridan, every nite, “saving souls”, first at the 38th club, then, the ten-twenty club and finally, Woodie Liquor, where he usually would be accompanied by some lost soul, in need of attention. Of course, nobody believed us, since we were kids and so it remained a neighborhood secret. We would also know, how drunk he was, by how crooked, his toupee was. One time it was so bad, he had it on backwards.

    As I read the documents, I felt great hurt for his victim and I was saddened to see that the effects, still impacting lives, today.

    My sadness, turned to anger as I began to see letters from Father Sheridan, to Bishop Buddy, in 1962 and another one to Bishop Furey, in 1963 and another in 1969, asking to be transferred to another parish, stating that he must be moved, as he has grown to reject the parish environment and the people in it. He rejected those families that started that church, he disdained those parishioners that would give their last cent to the church, to win his favor and do right by their faith. His hypocrisy and actions have to be seen in the context of human failings, but that doesn’t remove the scar of his disdain. Father Sheridan is now deceased, and nothing can be done about him, yet by all of this, I feel responsible to speak out, and say to those who founded the church, those great families and their descendants and the current parishioners and to the memory of the Shelltown Neighborhood, I am truly sorry for what happened.

            St Judes is still the beacon of Boston Avenue.