One of the last times I saw Monsignor Jerry Lewis was in a hallway of the Catholic Center. He wasn’t the kind of person someone simply walks by or nods toward. He was a conversationalist. And it wasn’t unusual for him to begin an exchange with “I’m glad I saw you because …”
The conversation we had that day was about Sister Dolly, who had been in North Carolina more than 20 years ago.
The way he spoke about her, though, was like she had just left. He recalled when and where she served. He said she’d died in Maryland and that it’d be good for the magazine to publish something because many people knew her.
Monsignor could look at a picture from decades ago and write its caption as easily as he smiled.
The names, dates and even an amusing anecdote were present, whether it was a colorful photo of diocesan priests visiting a pope or a black-and-white picture of himself, Pearl Powers and Sister Rene in the 1960s posing next to a record player. They were all working in religious education and that record player, he said cheerfully, “was an innovation” for the classroom.
Oh, and Sister Rene was a Mission Helper of the Sacred Heart. So was Sister Dolly, actually. (And you can read about her in this issue, by the way. Page 7. We promised Monsignor.)
At his 60th jubilee Mass in 2021, he wanted everyone present to meet the newest Christian in the church - his great niece’s son, Oliver. And so we met Oliver as he received a round of applause on Monsignor’s big day.
Monsignor’s affinity for people and history were why he most recently served as director of diocesan archives. It wasn’t simply a title. Even in his 90s, he came into the office and shared his gifts. If he didn’t know the answer to a question, he’d find out.
As Bishop Luis said at the funeral, even when Monsignor Lewis could no longer walk easily because of aging, he got a walker and kept moving. When he no longer drove, he discovered Uber.
It wasn’t unusual to see Monsignor sitting at the table in the archives room, leafing through a book or folder. One day he was doing just that when he and some others recalled the song “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” They didn’t simply remember it, though, they took a minute to sing it.
He served the diocese for 63 of its 100 years. He was a leader for all of them, explained Father Chris Koehn during the homily at Monsignor’s funeral. Even when he didn’t necessarily hold an official role, Monsignor was leading.
“Because of the way he lived his life, we have encountered someone who deeply believed in Christ as the resurrection and life. And because of his sharing of that, each one of us has had an encounter with the possibilities of life in Christ, which is life in love,” said Father Chris. “Because he believed Jesus was the resurrection and the life, it changed everything else. He wanted us to encounter Jesus because Jesus brought light to his life.”
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