Goodbye Father Tony

By PAUL BINZ

The Valley Catholic

BROWNSVILLE — After a lifetime of service in foreign lands, Father Anthony O’Connor has answered the siren call of his homeland on the far side of the world.

He left the Rio Grande Valley for New Zealand Sept. 1, after nine years as pastor of San Felipe de Jesus Parish in Cameron Park and more than three decades in South America.

“It’s 42 years, and I think it’s probably time to go home,” he said during his last week here. “I don’t really want to. I’d be quite happy for a few more years here.”

“The Valley’s got its enchantment. The people are really good people. … The Valley’s quite magical, really.”

But Father O’Connor also spoke glowingly of his New Zealand roots, his Irish immigrant family history, and the indigenous Maori people’s mystical ties to their island nation.

“It’s a whole Maori thing. And we breathe that, too, maybe because of the Irish in us,” he said. “The land – the land is so important. Where you come from. … ‘where your feet were placed on the ground,’ that’s where you came from. … There’s a whole richness in New Zealand.”

Before Father O’Connor’s departure, Bishop Daniel E. Flores and others recognized his work with his parish, his fellow priests, Jail Ministry and immigrants — especially children — Aug. 29 at a Jail Ministry event at the Bishop Marx Conference Center in San Juan.

Bishop Flores cited “the great generosity of his spirit.”

“We’re sorry he’s leaving and going to New Zealand,” Bishop Flores said. “But we’re very grateful for the gift that God has given him to us as a pastor, and as a man who has a heart, especially for the immigrant. And so, Father, we’re going to miss you a lot.”

Richard Treviño, director of the Urban Strategies shelter in San Benito, said, “Like a good shepherd, and especially when it came to children, Father, you unselfishly ignored your needs, and sacrificed long hours to tend to the flock. … We are grateful, and a better community because you touched so many lives.”

During Father O’Connor’s priesthood, he has indeed touched many lives in the Western Hemisphere. After formation in the Marist seminary in Hawkes Bay, New Zealand, he spent 27 years in Peru and five years in Venezuela.

“I was involved a lot with parish but also with school ministry,” he said. “We built quite a lot of schools, actually.”

He said the last school they built in Venezuela was an “elitist” school. “You had to be poor to go. They’re ‘elitist’ in reverse!” he said.

In Peru, he survived running afoul of both the government and a murderous Communist insurgency.

“I was in Peru at the time of Shining Path. I was chased by the security of state and also the Shining Path on the other side. … We were in a red zone, a lot of terrorism.”

After 30-plus years in South America, Father O’Connor was fluent in the language. That eventually landed him in the Valley.

“I came here because my order wanted someone who spoke Spanish,” he said.

He cited his greatest accomplishment here as “to be able to work with the people. And the people here in San Felipe are really as great as the bishop said … They’re very accepting and loving.”

At the age of 72, he leaves a living legacy of service at his parish.

“We’re set up for the migrants that come here. … They get a bit of fresh air here, feel good. We give them streaming programs, and food. In the church, they’ve got time to kneel before the cross, or Our Lady of Guadalupe, or go to confession as well.

“It’s going to continue now that we’ve got the (Dominican) sisters here to carry that on. So I can leave it in good hands.”   

Two days before his departure, Father O’Connor spoke of his future plans.

“Where I’m going, I’ve got three months’ holiday. I haven’t been on holiday in three years,” he said. “I’m looking forward to having a bit of a break. Then I’ll see what the superiors want me to do.

“I’d prefer to be with the poor, the vulnerable people. So I don’t know where that will take me. … There are a lot of angry youth in New Zealand. A lot of people who are sick, too. There’s also quite a lot of poverty, even though New Zealand’s supposed to be a prosperous country.”

“Inside, even though it hurts, I think it’s probably time to go home and maybe do something there,” he said. “But just more enter a new phase of my life … what they call the ‘swan song.’

“I think I’ll go home for my swan song. … your last stage, you know?”