RichardHowe.com – Voices from Lowell & Beyond

Lowell Politics: March 29, 2026

Tuesday’s Lowell City Council was a long one, mostly because the council had cancelled its prior meeting which fell on St. Patrick’s Day. The public portion of this meeting took 3 hours, 45 minutes. For councilors, it was even longer since they went into executive session after that.

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The big issue this Tuesday was the Lowell Senior Center. A month ago, the council rejected a new lease for the senior center that had been negotiated by City Manager Tom Golden. The councilors who opposed the lease – Corey Robinson, Belinda Juran, Sidney Liang, Sean McDonough and Mayor Erik Gitschier – mostly took the position that 20-plus years ago when the city conveyed the property to the current owner and then leased it back for use as the senior center, it was with the understanding that at the end of that 20 year lease, the owner would make a gift of the property back to the city.

The City Solicitor explained that the deed from the city to the developer/current owner had no reversionary language so whatever promise had been made would be legally unenforceable. City Manager Golden added that much had changed in the intervening years and that the proposed lease was the best way to move forward for a variety of reasons.

Voting for the lease were Councilors Dan Rourke, Kim Scott, Sokhary Chau, John Descoteaux and Vesna Nuon. Councilor Rita Mercier recused herself from the vote on the grounds that since she was the president of the Friends of Lowell Council on Aging Center Inc., she had a conflict of interest and could not participate in the matter. However, as she left the council chamber at the start of the debate, she said, “If I could vote for [the lease], I would.”

The tie vote equaled a rejection of the lease, so it was unclear where the matter stood when that council meeting ended.

Then, at their March 3, 2026, meeting, the council unanimously adopted a joint motion by Councilors Corey Robinson and Rita Mercier that asked the city manager for a report explaining how the council could obtain independent legal counsel for its own use. Although the express wording of the motion made no mention of the senior center, that was clearly the catalyst. While there was some debate among councilors that evening about whether this was a good idea, or even legal, the motion was just for a report on how to do it, not actually to do it, so it passed unanimously.

As I mentioned in my March 8, 2026, newsletter (link below), hiring the council’s own legal counsel is an issue that arises from time to time. However, rather than independent legal counsel, what councilors are really looking for is a lawyer who will give them a legal opinion different from the one rendered by the city solicitor since this only comes up when a cohort of councilors is unhappy with a ruling from the city’s legal department.

Which brings us to this Tuesday’s meeting and twin motions about the senior center. The first, by Councilor Kim Scott, asked the city manager to “prepare a 15-year RFP for the needed space for the Lowell Senior Center.” The second, a joint motion by Councilor Corey Robinson and Mayor Erik Gitschier, asked the city manager to “have the proper department draft and execute a request for proposal (RFP) seeking to provide alternate accommodations for our Lowell Senior Center.”

The term of the original senior center lease ended several years ago, yet the city has continued to occupy the place without paying rent. Consequently, the property owner would be entitled to evict the senior center from the property and sue for unpaid rent for the city’s use and occupancy of the premises. Since the city needs a senior center, beginning the search for an alternate site is prudent, even if the current impasse is resolved.

The debate on these motions, however, made it clear that the senior center lease impasse is far from being resolved. At some point, Councilor John Descoteaux observed that since Councilor Mercier has now obtained an opinion from the State Ethics Commission that she does not have a conflict and could legally vote on the lease, the council should revisit that vote since Mercier, as mentioned above, indicated she would support the lease. Her vote in favor would break the tie and authorize the city manager to execute the new lease.

Not so fast, according to Councilor Mercier, because contrary to her comment at the February 24, 2026, meeting that she supported the lease, she is now completely opposed to it. After explaining her recent interaction with the Ethics Commission which gave her the green light to participate, Mercier launched a verbal attack on the owner of the senior center property, describing him as “ruthless, greedy, conniving, deceitful and merciless.”

Perhaps it’s best to let Councilor Mercier’s words speak for themselves. Here are three portions of the YouTube transcript of her remarks. In several places, I’ve added explanations which appear in brackets and are italicized. I’ve also highlighted the above quoted adjectives in bold.

The first portion is from 53:25 of the recording:

There are no technicalities [referring to her dealings with the State Ethics Commission] such as I understand were present in the filing of the paperwork for our senior center many years ago on the part of the city by our implied incompetent solicitors of the past. Well, I know our solicitors well from the past, especially Dave Fenton and Tom Sweeney and Christine O’ Connor. They were from the past. They were outstanding in their expertise, just as we have the same expertise today.

So, what went wrong? A technicality. Don’t argue over a technicality to gain more for yourself. Which leads to the motion [for the new lease]. Is this motion the culmination, the plot that someone was waiting for so we would look for another senior center location and all the condo units would be owned by one person? [The senior center parcel has been condominiumized with the actual senior center leased by the city just being one of several condominium units that comprise the property.] How appropriate! You’d then have all your eggs in one basket in one area. No city ownership mixed in with other units. How appropriate, how ruthless, how greedy, how conniving. And I don’t really care what I’m saying. I’m speaking from my heart.

The real motion should be, let’s hire an independent, non-connected person with nothing to gain who specializes in title law, a title specialist, a real estate litigator who specializes in quiet title action, and focuses on the history of the deed, the history of the deed, and clearing a cloud of error. a certified title examiner. That is who we need and something that was implied years ago but never kept.

Or maybe the next motion should be, let’s investigate other options on relocating our school department to another place and eliminate our connection with deceitful, scheming, merciless people. [The Lowell School Department rents space for its central offices in the Bon Marche building on Merrimack Street, which is owned by the same person, through a different trust, as the senior center parcel.]

Then at 56:26 of the recording, Mercier said this:

Why is it that someone with an ample amount of income wants to take something that we own in the beginning away from us, away from our seniors through a technicality and I say how sad and it’s sad for me to go to the senior center for my monthly meeting for the friends and they come up to me and say please councilor support that contract support the new lease because if you don’t they’re going to lock the doors and we’ll the outside looking in with no place to go. How sad is that? That is sad in this day and age that we treat our seniors like that. I can’t believe it.

So maybe it’s time to look around at all the things that we rent and put our people somewhere else. Maybe we can get the Bon Marche and put our school department across the street at the, uh, at the, um, place on I can’t even think of the name. I’m so upset. Right across on Market Street [I think she was referring to the old police station/market building across the street from Brewed Awakening that the city re-acquired last year.] Maybe that’s where we should put them. And save that money. I don’t like to be screwed. I’m going to say it. I don’t like it.

Then at 59:50, Mercier said this about a possible redo of the tie vote on the proposed lease:

I’m sorry to go on, but I’m not supporting the lease. So, you can take another roll call. You can try to take the people that already voted no and try to change their mind. But I don’t like it. We owned it. What do you not understand there? A technicality. What about the word implied? Implied we owned it, because we did and I’m not settling for anything less.

Let’s be clear. The city does not own the senior center, either actually or impliedly. When the concept of a senior center on Broadway first arose in 2001, there was a clear understanding that at the end of an anticipated 20-year lease, the owner would “gift and donate the leased premises to the city of Lowell.” (I believe that express language was in the purchase and sales agreement between the parties.) However, when the deed from the city to the new owner was executed and delivered, it made no mention of the property being gifted back to the city at the end of the lease.

As I explained in an earlier newsletter, the “doctrine of merger” in Massachusetts real estate law holds that if a promise contained in the purchase and sales agreement is not repeated in the deed, the express language of the deed prevails, and the earlier promise is not legally enforceable.

I speculated that the omission of the reversionary language was not accidental since, had it been included in the deed, the new owner would not have obtained the $15 million mortgage they needed to rehabilitate the property since no bank would make such a loan unless the borrower held full and complete ownership of the property. I further speculated that there was no side agreement or written memorandum of understanding confirming the intended gift because doing that would have constituted bank fraud.

Which is not to say the city is prohibited from making a legal claim that it now owns the property. In general, the law requires any agreement that transfers ownership of real estate to be in writing. However, there are exceptions to that rule when equity demands it, but that type of claim is a legal longshot and, more importantly in this case, requires the party making the claim to have “clean hands” which means being free of any conduct that contributed to the dispute.

The “clean hands” doctrine would likely trip up the city’s equitable claim of ownership since, I suspect, over the past 20 years, successive city managers have made all kinds of agreements with the property owner regarding the space that modified any earlier understanding about ownership of the property reverting to the city at the end of the lease.

Without reversionary language in the deed and with only a weak equitable claim to ownership, the position of some councilors seems to be that the owner reneged on their earlier promise to make a gift of the property to the city at the end of the lease. That may be so, but an agreement to make a gift in the future is not legally enforceable, so if circumstances have changed, as they clearly have, the city has no means to compel the gift to be made.

Even the councilors seem to understand that which is why they’ve launched a collateral attack on other leases between the city and the owner of the senior center parcel, most notably the Bon Marche building which the school department rents for its central office. The above transcript shows Councilor Mercier explicitly linking the senior center lease to the Bon Marche lease and, two weeks ago, Councilor Robinson filed a motion directing the city manager to “begin a conversation with the superintendent of schools to look into any space consolidation measures that translate into cost savings for our residents.” Robinson did not expressly link this motion to the senior center; but it’s not a stretch to see it as a subtler version of Mercier’s attack on the Bon Marche lease.

Earlier in the meeting when the city solicitor was asked, what happens next, he replied that the city is waiting for the property owner to take the next step. Rather than just wait and then react, the council endorsed the combined RFP motion and endorsed a motion from the floor by Councilor Dan Rourke that instructed the city manager to explore all possible options for the future of the senior center. Presumably, the council will also meet in executive session at an upcoming meeting to discuss its litigation strategy.

Here’s a link to my newsletter about the February 24, 2026, council meeting and the new lease debate.

Here’s a link to my newsletter about the March 10, 2026, council meeting and the “independent counsel” for the council discussion.

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Save the Date: This spring’s walking tours of historic Lowell Cemetery will be held on Saturday, May 2, and Sunday, May 3, both at 10 am, both beginning at the Knapp Avenue entrance next to Shedd Park. The same tour will be conducted on both days. Just show up and enjoy.

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This week in my Seen & Heard column, I wrote about the obituary of philosopher Jurgen Habermous; an Op-Ed by internet guru Tim Wu on why social media is hazardous; and commented on Emilie-Noelle Provost’s “Living Madly” column that criticized Daylight Savings Time.

Time of the End of the Season Part Four

Time of the End of the Season Part Four

By Bob Hodge

Bob Hodge grew up in Lowell and went on to graduate from Lowell High (1973) and University of Lowell (1990). He was (and still is) one the greatest runners to come out of this region. He’s also a writer whose 2020 memoir, Tale of the Times: A Runner’s Story, is available at lala books in downtown Lowell and in Kindle format from Amazon. The following is an excerpt from his novel-in-progress.

Already published:

Time episode 1

Time episode 2

Time episode 3

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I toured around the city a bit on foot and then left my ruck sack at a local bus station where I changed into my running gear and went for a long easy run scouting out places where I might be able to camp out for the night.

I found what looked like a nice spot adjacent to a golf course at a public park called Bayou South. New Orleans felt like a foreign country sophisticated but funky at the same time. It was a lot to take in and I just needed some shut eye. When I arrived at the park with a few supplies just as it was getting dark, I spotted a police car that seemed to be watching me.

You know it is difficult to hobo though you are doing nothing wrong just want to lie down for the night under the stars and rest your weary head and be left alone.

Perhaps it was just my paranoia and they left and stopped following me.

I’d had a good sleep that night and woke up early to the sound of the sprinklers on the luxurious grass of the golf course. I put on my running shorts and hid my bag in the woods and then ran barefoot around the edges of the course avoiding the few golfers who were out this early.

When after an hour or so I finished my run, I stood in a sprinkler to cool off and clean off. “Hey, what are you doing?” “Oh, sorry, just rinsing off.” “Where are you from?” “Massachusetts.” “Is that how you do it for their son?”

The groundskeeper told me I could shower at the clubhouse if I wanted and I was surprised by this friendliness and hospitality. “Thank you very much sir, I will do that.”

He watched me as I walked off into the nearby woods to grab my ruck sack. When I got to the clubhouse he pointed the way and handed me a towel. “You been hoboing son?” “Yes Sir, I just wanted to see New Orleans.”

“Of course, but I wouldn’t overstay your welcome.”

I headed to the bus station to catch my ride to Atlanta but missed it by minutes. The next one wouldn’t leave for six hours so I read for a while and then walked around the city.

In the business district close to the French Quarter I spotted a store that seemed to be dedicated to selling mainly running shoes and gear called the Runnery. I checked out some flyer’s in the window one advertising the Ignatius J Reilly five mile road race.

I went inside and met the proprietor Jean Louis a very friendly guy who after a few minutes conversation seemed to know who I was—I then realized why when I spotted the issue of Track & Field News with my photo on the cover.

We talked about the existence of these specialty running shops and Jean pointed out that the big chain stores still refused to carry most of the major brands of running shoes because they did not see any profit in it. As for the Runnery they had been open for two years and seemed to be making a pretty good go of it.

“Willy, why don’t you stay over a few days and you can run the five miler on Saturday and meet some very interesting people who are raising funds to get a statue of Ignatius made and dedicated.” “Are there any prizes? I know that ours is not a professional sport but I still consider myself a pro as it means nothing to me to come here and beat the local hero with no other incentive.”

“Of course Willy, I see your point. If you win wearing my Runnery singlet I will give you $100. Also first prize is $100 gift certificate to Bank’s Meat Market which I will buy from you if you win.”

“You can stay with me here, I have an apartment in the back of the store.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jean.”

“Yes, it will be quite a surprise for the local hero as you say -we have one and he is overdue to be taken down a peg.”

When the store closed at 6 there was a loosely organized group run with around twenty people of varying abilities. We ran together at an easy pace, Jean introducing me to the crowd as a wandering athlete seeking wisdom from his elders.

We ran over parts of the race course that would be used on Saturday so I got a little preview. “Willy, there will be a festival going on in the Quarter and the race will run right through the middle of it. It is a three loop course and the spectators will be jacked up in party mood man.”

After our run we returned to the apartment where I met Michelle, Jean’s girlfriend. “We have an outdoor shower Willy, it’s a garden hose there and you can have a swim in our little pool there.” Michelle and I will grill some barbecue and make a salad. If you want avocado just pick from that tree over there or a ripe one on the ground.”

As I lounged about Jean joined me with two ice cold Dixie beers. “Here’s to you my new friend, I’m so happy you stopped by.” I told Jean of my plans when I reached Atlanta and my new coach Sal Parker. “He’s a good one Willy? He can reign you in? Ha!” “You got me pegged Jean, I’m as stubborn as they come.”

“Willy, your main competition on Saturday will be Fuzzy a very interesting local character—a shrimp fisherman.” “He was a high school phenom setting records at 800M –2 Miles and finishing second at the state cross country championship his senior year running with a broken toe.”

“Very smart as well even though he tried to hide it and apparently scored perfect on his SAT but had no interest in college even though he was recruited by many, many.” “Jean, what is his actual name?” “Alphonse Boudreaux, means “ready for battle man”” “You will see why they call him Fuzzy when you meet him.”

“Sounds like a tough bastard.” “He is like you Willy all heart. When I read about the national cross country race in T&FNews and the quotes from the Broken Arrow coach, it made me smile. Especially your being unavailable for comment.”

After our enjoyable evening I settled down on the couch read for a bit and slept soundly. In the morning Michelle invited me to go on a swamp tour party boat ride with her and her girlfriends. “Hell yes.”

The race on Saturday would be at noon and so it would be very hot and humid. I was beginning to think maybe I got suckered because Alphonse “though he be but little, he is fierce.” I spotted him immediately wearing number one, prancing around, light dark skin, an enormous afro and porno mustache.

I smiled as I ran past him in my Runnery singlet and gave him a quick wave as I did. He stopped and stared.

We lined up and the starter pistol sent us off 300 strong but only the top 100 would make the results. The entry fee was $2.00 and at the finish you got a foot long hot dog from Bank’s Meat Market and a Coca Cola. The top 100 would get a Popsicle stick with their finish place on it and hand that in at a table with your name sticker for the results.

The first quarter mile was straight on and then a hard left for three 1.5 mile loops before finishing the last quarter as we started. Fuzzy went out at suicidal pace just as I thought he would. I tried to pull even with him but he fought me off.

The mile was 4:16 and I was running nearly all out. I was in good shape generally but not prepared for this pace. I figured he had to slow down so I hung with him. I was not going to let him go or gain more than an inch, if I did he might not be coming back to me.

Sure enough he slowed a lot and I pulled alongside as he looked me up and down 2 miles passing in 8:56. “Willy mon ami, you think you got me now? You ain’t got me now.” “Watch me Fuzz mon and I threw everything but the kitchen sink at him and finally broke free at 3.5 or so.”

The unruly crowd reveled in it some staggering onto the course where I had to straight arm a few debauched folk.

As I hit the final quarter mile and made the turn Fuzzy was catching me, inconceivable but here he was and we fought tooth and nail Fuzzy with his crazy hair and me with my beard and sunglasses—it was a dead heat but they gave me the victory and Fuzzy threw his arms around me and said “You was a worthy opponent Willy, that was a good one.”

I’ll never forget this one, Fuzzy this is what it’s all about.

Post race we did a presser and then got our photos taken in front of the placeholder for the Ignatius statue while eating our foot long hot dogs and slugging some Dixie’s.

The party carried on back to the RUNNERY where Alphonse and I had a meeting of the minds.

“Fuzzy ain’t it hard to get out for a run after days out fishing?” “No Willy, fishing is hard, running is easy like going out to play.”

I wondered about all the great potential athletes we might have in our sport with any incentive for them other than glory —Olympics or otherwise.

That night I slept peacefully content. The camaraderie in our sport made it worthwhile. I think.

I felt positively that this excursion of mine was the right thing for me at barely nineteen. Hey nineteen. You don’t find out nothing hanging around Galway that’s for sure.

One of these things first:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vDtsgVgAx6k

A Day in South Boston

A Day in South Boston

By Rich Grady

On March 17th of this year, I drove across the Summer Street Bridge from Downtown Boston toward Southie, heading for Castle Island and the strand along Pleasure Bay. There, I would meet other Minutemen from around New England to muster for a short bus ride to St.

Augustine’s Chapel on Dorchester Street for ceremonies to kick-off the march to the top of Dorchester Heights. This was to commemorate the 250th Anniversary of Evacuation Day when the strategically placed cannons courtesy of Henry Knox and his Noble Train of Artillery, hauled 300 miles from Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York during the winter of 1775-1776, helped compel the British army of occupation and supporting Royalists to withdraw from Boston. It was a major strategic victory for the fledgling Continental Army and its Commander-in-Chief, General George Washington – and it came more than three months before our Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. As Jonathan Lane, Executive Director of the modern day Rev250 organization, has said, “No Evacuation Day, no Independence Day!”

I felt compelled to participate in this commemoration and celebration for a couple of reasons. One is the obvious significance to our nation’s history. The other is my family’s history and Saint Augustine’s Chapel, where my paternal grandparents were married in 1910. Saint Augustine’s was built in 1818-1819 and is the oldest Catholic church in Massachusetts. It is very small and intimate, and surrounded by the oldest Catholic cemetery in the Commonwealth. When it was built, the Archdiocese of Boston was only 10 years old, and religious tolerance was still more of a concept than a practice. By the time my grandparents were married there in 1910, more than a third of Boston’s population was foreign-born, and almost a third of that portion had come from Ireland, and for the most part, was Catholic.

My grandfather immigrated from County Mayo in Ireland and my grandmother from County Galway, and they met over here in South Boston. They were both Irish speakers – English was their second language. They came to the United States around 1900 for opportunity and to escape British oppression. Prior to the late 1800s and early 1900s, there were not many Irish and not many Catholics in America, and they were not particularly welcome. Nonetheless, America had gained its independence from England, which was meaningful to the Irish, as was the fact that the Continental Army had compelled elite British troops to evacuate from Boston, thereby gaining international credibility for their cause. And symbolically significant, the codeword for the Continental Army on Dorchester Heights in March of 1776 was “Saint Patrick.”

Ceremonies this year officially kicked-off with a Mass in the cozy Saint Augustine’s Chapel, with people overflowing out the narrow doors. Well known politicians – both local and national – were in attendance, as well as regular churchgoers from the neighborhood. After Mass, the procession of Minutemen and Militia units formed outside the walls of the cemetery to begin the march to the top of Dorchester Heights.

I marched with the Acton Minutemen in this year’s Evacuation Day procession. They were the first to confront the British at the Old North Bridge in Concord on April 19, 1775 – now commemorated as Patriots’ Day. Their Captain in 1775 was Isaac Davis, who reportedly said, “I haven’t a man who is afraid to go,” when asked to lead the march to battle against the Redcoats. Sadly, he was shot through the heart and died in that battle. However, the Minutemen won that day, and chased the retreating British Army back to Boston, beginning an 11 month siege of the city that concluded on Evacuation Day, March 17, 1776. Isaac Davis became the inspiration for the famous Minute Man Statue (1875) by Daniel Chester French at the Old North Bridge, which has the first stanza of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s poem, the Concord Hymn (1837), inscribed on its pedestal.

I am grateful for this nation of ours and those who paved the way before us. Events that help us remember our history and places that connect our past, present, and future are special and worthy of preservation and contemplation. This year’s Evacuation Day ceremony on the 250th anniversary of the withdrawal of British forces from Boston included a reopening and rededication of the Dorchester Heights Monument, which was built 125 years ago, in

1901-1902, as a national site of remembrance. The commanding views of Boston Harbor and the city below, and the vertical challenge of reaching it with cannon balls from British ships and sea-level artillery, made Dorchester Heights ideal for the Continental Army and its cannon placements and fortifications. This year’s remembrance included cannon fire and musket volleys at the base of the restored monument, after numerous speeches by politicians and dignitaries, while people from the neighborhood and visitors from far and wide endured the frigid winds on a wintery but glorious day for remembrances.

Entrance to St. Augustine’s Chapel & Cemetery

Acton Minutemen marching to Dorchester Heights

Minutemen firing a volley at Dorchester Heights

Artillery Companies on Dorchester Heights

Dorchester Heights Monument (150 feet tall, made of marble)

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday

By Leo Racicot

I’m not much for religion, not a churchgoer. Every year though, I try to make it to Palm Sunday services.

I like the literal joy of the proceedings: the priests don bright red vestments for this celebratory day, the incense has a dual sensory effect; the smoke rising from the thurible to the sky of the church could, at times, be so thick, it would envelope the priest completely, the scent of it so strong, it felt like I was going to pass out but it would be a good “passing out”. I like seeing the long procession down the center aisle up to the altar, with congregants waving their lightsome palms. As a kid at Saint Patrick’s School, I well remember kids using palms as swords and old Sister Clare Cecilia trying mightily to corral them while not disturbing the services, not easy to do although, as a teacher, I observed that, with students, the immediate appearance of the principal was enough to strike the fear of God into the wildest of Indians, and into teachers. After all, it was the principal.

There was, and still is, something medieval about the ceremony, something close to primeval. The holy day does have its origins in Late Antiquity, the first Palm Sundays dating back to the 4th century. As a kid, I felt being in the midst of these rituals was a transport to another time, another world. I liked the solemnity of them, the seriousness on the face of the celebrants. It was, for me, a reflective, awe-inspiring Mass as well as a joy-filled one, and remains so. After Mass, as the congregation leaves the church and the bells ring out, I feel exhilarated, anointed, renewed…

I retain what might well be called a palm fetish. I like the tradition of parishioners being handed palms. And though church organizers now feel that one palm per person is plenty, I miss the days when whole bunches of them were handed out. Diane always liked when I could bring home several. and here in the kitchen, to my right, above me, are a few fronds framing a photo of The Last Supper which have been there for many years.  Our good neighbor, Anna, loved weaving palms into crosses and other religious symbols, I liked sitting with her at her kitchen table, watching her patiently weaving chotki (Eastern Orthodox prayer ropes), always the honeyed scent of baklava hovering nearby.   At Ms. Shea’s in Cambridge, sometimes when the grad school guys were leaving after their one-year tour-of-duty with Richard was over, they’d give me gifts as a sort of farewell; a book they thought I’d like, a stereo too big to fit in the back seat of their car. etc. My dear pal, John Dewis, as a goodbye, left me an elaborate palm frond hat he’d woven from many Palm Sunday masses. I still have and treasure it.

The funniest Palm Sunday I recall is the time an Arlington parish recruited, for lifelike effect, a male parishioner to play Jesus and a donkey on which for him to ride around the grounds and into the church. The beast was a tiny, charming, sweet-faced fellow and “Jesus” was, shall we say, a tad on the heavy side. After a while, it became apparent the donkey had had enough of fat Jesus on top of him and stopped in its tracks, refusing to budge another step. To the astonishment of the crowd, “Jesus” leaped down, literally picked the donkey up in his arms and carried him the rest of the way into the church. A memorable Palm Sunday, to say the least…

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Palm Sunday procession

Altar Boys lost in incense smoke

Jesus carrying a donkey

Palm hat made by John

Anna weaving palms at her kitchen table