The Curse

As I have said in my description, I was cursed by a priest when I was a young boy, at age fourteen. The priest who cursed me had been my parish priest.

The curse took place in Saint Joseph's parish at the Portuguese American Club in the north end of Fall River. It was in the basement of that social club. The priest had rented it for the evening and it was going to used as a dance room/hall. It was a parish dance, put on and backed by the priest but it was set up for me. The priest was setting me up. He was setting me up to be cursed.

I had been told by my father to go to the parish dance and say hello to the priest. The priest and my father were on good speaking terms; but, the priest had something over my father's head, and that was the death/suicide of his young wife, my mother. And because of this information the priest, named Father Shaleau, manipulated my father and so my father did the bidding of the priest Father Shaleau.

The detrimental information about my father and mother is how it played out in their marriage and culminated in my mother taking her life. Suicide. When my father was living in New York City he met my mother at a restaurant. She was working as a waitress. ("you are as sweet as this apple pie." words spoken) He courted her and they married. My mother at the time of marriage was 15 years of age. My father was 30. He was twice her age. Twice. Records will show different, but they have been altered at my father's prompting, and so my mother changed her age on public records from 15 to the legal age of 16. But not satisfied, my father prompted her to change it to show 18 years of age, and so she did it.

My father at that time had some money, and his business was running a speakeasy somewhere in the big apple. And he also knew some of the big time wheelers dealers in the shady business of crime as he would later tell Gilbert (my brother) and I.

So my mother and father married, their honeymoon was in Europe and it was at that time that Hitler started the second world war. My father was "offered a lot of money" for his tickets to America, but he declined and the two returned to New York. A brief period of time there and two children now, my brother and I, and we all traveled to Fall River Massachusetts where my father purchased a small house for us to live in. And for his business he bought four bars, the Ringside, the Cameo, the Knickerbocker and the Drake. Along with the Drake was a small walk up hotel.

It was to be in Fall River that my brother and I would grow up and begin our lives, and in some years time, about four, my sister, Camile, would be born.

But the strain of life and depression proved to be too much for my beloved mother and she would kill herself. My father who was sort of a control person would not let my mother get a job. She wanted to work at Made Rite Potato Chip plant where she had a woman friend of her similar age. But my father, who was good friends with the woman's husband would not permit it. The dreary life of a housewife with little to do proved to be too much for my mother. And I believe the age difference came into play also. But that is beyond my knowledge.

So the priest and my father talked, and when my father talked to me, giving me directions and where to go, how to get to the dance, I got the impression that the priest impressed upon my father where and the path to take to get to the dance.

I did as I was told. Following the instructions given by the priest to my father. I traveled to the parish. Walked past the church cemetery. Went around the street to an underpass. Went down the steps into the darkness, along a tunnel, up some steps and out into the evening where I spied the building where the dance was to be held. It had a light above a side door, just as had been explained to me. I entered and went down a flight of stairs to the basement where the dance was to be held.

At the bottom of the stairs I looked around the room. It was a moderate size room with only a handful of dance goers present. Two couples were on the dance floor dancing to some music coming from a phonograph.

I saw the priest, Father Shaleau, across the sparsely occupied room He was dressed in religious attire; black robe, red under vestment, mitered cap and with the crucifix of Jesus upon his chest. That was dominate in viewing him, Jesus crucified. It was to be a religious curse, so he was in full religious dress.

The priest led a young couple to the edge of the dance floor, all the while instructing the boy, bending over, talking into the boy's ear. The priest let the young couple dance. And then the priest paid attention to me, at the edge of the dance floor he looked at me. Stared at me, giving me the evil eye! It was a mean angry stare. No words were spoken. He held out both his hands for me to stop! For me to stay where I was. Not to enter. Stop!

I turned my attention to the young couple the priest had sent out to the dance floor. The boy was tall and skinny. The girl was short in comparison. The tall slender boy bent over and planted his lips upon the girl's forehead. There it stayed. They started to dance, or move. The girl moved back; the boy followed. The girl moved right; the boy followed. The girl moved left; the boy followed. The boy countered every move the girl made, all the time with his lips planted upon her forehead. It was as if he was stuck to the girl.

It was a weird dance. It looked perverted, not a dance at all.

When this perverted dance started the other couples left the dance floor. So there was just the one couple on the dance floor dancing a dance as if they were stuck together. The boy's lips upon the girl's forehead as if planting a seed in her mind. The girl trying to dance free but being stuck to the boy. She danced left. The boy danced left. The girl danced right. The boy danced right. The girl moved. The boy countered her every move.

The priest held his pose. Both hands outstretched. Stop! It was a motion for me to stay where I was, All the time he continued with his angered look. The angered stare. The evil eye!

Then he started to move backwards. Slowly he moved backwards into the darkness at the far end of the room. The two dancers on the dance floor, continued dancing their weird dance, stuck together like two attached animals hooked one to the other.

After watching the couple for awhile I went back up the stairs and left the dance. The whole event disturbed me. I didn't understand it. It would take me many years, over forty years for me to understand.

It was a curse. It was a religious curse. It is correctly called an ecclesiastical curse. I had been cursed by a mad bastard priest, and that was only the beginning. The mad bastard priest would send many bastards from the catholic church to follow me, stalk me, slander me, harass me, drug me and cause me all sorts of trouble.

The curse took place in the summer of 1955 and for the next fifty years I would be stalked, followed, harassed, slandered and drugged. My residences would be broken into and drugs would be placed into my food and drink. Much trouble would be caused to me.

THE AFTERMATH

Twenty to thirty years later, after living in California, I returned to my hometown of Fall River and visited the North End. The Portuguese American Club where Priest Shaleau rented the hall was torn down, demolished. It was gone. Leveled. It is my guess that because the catholic clergy or cleric performed an evil ceremony there that they wanted the building removed or altered. That is my guess. It is in the realm of the Spiritual and it seems the priest didn't want any bad back effects from his curse to come back on him or the people that could be effected from the backlash of the curse.

To back this theory up, there were also some other places that were totally altered. My father's bar, the Drake. It was in the Drake bar that perverts and troublemakers from the catholic church entered and caused my father problems and trouble. It was part of the curse of the vendetta against me, and also my father, perhaps whom the priest thought didn't do a good job of bringing me up. And of course my father couldn't react, he was so full of guilt from the suicide of his young wife. So Priest Shaleau had my father where he wanted him and he was on his hit list also. And many years later the Drake, now in other hands, was completely renovated. The serving area of the bar which extended from the front to almost the rear, taking up all the right side of the room; that was removed and moved to the other side of the room. It was altered, most everything was backwards.

In addition, when I had returned from the Military, I started to hang out with Bob Piegeon. He and I would go to his place of choice in the North End. It was a small bar in a residential area. A small quiet bar. And many years later; twenty, thirty years later, that too was completely altered. It was done over. Again the bar was torn out, removed and moved to the other side of the room. Again a total refit. And it is my belief that it was done so no evil spiritual backlash would happen to those who cursed me, because in that place, the bar, I believe I was being slipped Mickeys. It was part of the curse against me, and to alleviate any possibility of the curse going against those who perpetuated it would not get any backlash.

It is my guess that the Cameo, my father's other bar, had been given similar treatment, for my father complained of troublemakers causing customers to go elsewhere. My father's business collapsed under the pressure from  Priest Shaleau and the bastards and perverts from the catholic church. My father was forced to sell and he ended up selling used cars and had low or no money.