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Fr. Frederick Schroeder
1917 – 2004
Fr. Fred was born October 1, 1917 in Mishawaka, Indiana. He was the eldest of
five children. When he was six and a half years old, his father
died. The great depression came and poverty drove his family apart.
There was no work for children and his mother could not find work
with four youngsters at home, his eldest sister, Virginia, having
died when Fr. Fred was twelve. In desperation, his mother sent his
brother to a home and his two sisters to a boarding school with the
Dominican nuns in Adrian, Michigan. It was at this time Fr. Fred
turned to the church. He entered the preparatory school at St.
Joseph’s College, Rensselaer, Indiana which at that time combined
high school and college within a six year course. In his book, “A
Little Holy Disorder,” Fr. Fred says, “I have wanted to describe the
origin of my vocation in terms that could stimulate others to become
priests and to do honor to the Church. I have wanted to speak of the
guiding hands of priests and sisters who recognized my talents at an
early age. I have wanted all those things, but they aren’t there. I
made the decision to enter seminary because, although I didn’t know
it at the time, I had nowhere else to go. If destiny means the
systematic elimination of all other choices, I think I was destined
to become a priest.”
After graduation from St. Joseph, Fr. Fred entered the seminary at St.
Meinrad’s School of Theology where he studied to become a diocesan
priest.
Upon ordination, Fr. Fred spent his first three years in Elwood, Indiana
as an Associate Pastor and the following three years in Kokomo,
Indiana, again, as an Associate Pastor.
His first opportunity to become a pastor was at St. Anne’s parish in Monterey,
Indiana where he stayed for six years until he was transferred to
Union City, Indiana where he remained for seven years. He later
served as Pastor for ten years at Remington, Indiana and fourteen
years at Logansport, Indiana before coming to St. Elizabeth Ann
Seton Church in Carmel, Indiana where he was Senior Associate Pastor
for the last nineteen years of his life.
It was in Kokomo, that Fr. Fred first started going door to door evangelizing,
a practice he pursued the rest of his life. Claire Magna, his
“housekeeper” and Sacristan at SEAS says, “He
never met a stranger. He loved everyone - even if they didn't love
him. He could talk to anyone about anything. If you didn't like Fr.
Fred when you met him, you did by the time he got finished talking
with you. He probably heard your confession without you even knowing
it, then gave you absolution. He loved lifting 'unnecessary guilt'
from peoples shoulders. When people answered his knock, he would
ask them, 'Is there anybody here Catholic, or supposed to be?' Then
he would listen to their response. Some people were angry, some
hurt, some Catholic, many not. He listened to all of them. He
agreed with many of their angers and hurts. He listened. He brought
many people back to the church, brought many people into the
church, reconciled many marriages, and made friends with the others.
Helping people was his forte.
Hearing Confession was his passion, He
didn't want people to hurt. To bring a look of relief or a smile on
someone's face brought him great joy. Jesus was his model. He was a
man of Jesus. He had trouble with the scribes and Pharisees. His
path was clearly marked, and he knew where he was going. A leader in
his time, he helped instigate many of the changes in the church. God
knew what he had in mind for Fr. Fred to do with his life - and he did it.”
On March 1,
2004, Fr. Fred died peacefully with his friend of fifty years, Fr.
Tom Conley, praying the noonday Liturgy of the Hours over him.
Claire Magna says the following about his last message to her:
“He loved ice cream. For years, we would get ice cream at least 3 evenings a
week. He had it for dessert at home many nights. He scooped it
right out of the carton. He would also get a staff member to take
him for ice cream during the day. He really loved it. So, we told
him often in the hospital that we would go and get some ice cream
when he got out. His favorite was black walnut.
As we were leaving the hospital room after he died, there were five
of us walking down the hall, taking up the width of the hall. An
old man with white hair came solemnly walking down the hall right
through us, carrying a big bowl of ice cream covered with nuts- as
if it were a crown on a pillow. Something would NOT let my eyes
leave that sight –they were frozen on the ice cream - until I
realized – it was a message from Father Fred. ‘Everything is okay, I
got my ice cream in heaven”. I was stunned.
I had walked those halls for two months and had never seen anyone
carrying ice cream. People who walk the halls daily have never seen
it either. It is against policy to have any food uncovered in the
hallways. It was a message.
Father Fred talked many times about heaven and an afterlife. He
would say that no one knows for sure - it is all a matter of faith.
Well, I have faith, but now I know – because has Father Fred told me
– in that message of the ice cream. There are no coincidences.
Father Fred was a wonderful person. There will never be anyone like
him ever again. What an honor and a joy it was for me to take care
of him. He was such a good, kind, happy, holy man.
Please remember all of the good things Father Fred said or did for
you - and carry them with you for the rest of your life. Do not let
his work have been in vain. Do not lose faith, even in your darkest
times, because God has promised to always be with you and Father
Fred will be there making sure He is.”
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