IN THE NEWS: Thursday, September 12, 2002

Maryville's Father Smyth 'Someone Who Can't Say No'

By TODD WESSELL

Managing Editor

Angelo Bernar, a Des Plaines Public Works supervisor who spent 12 years of his life at Maryville Academy in the 1950s and 60s, calls Father John Smyth, the academy's long-time executive director, the " 6-Ft. 5-Inch Gentle Giant".

"He's someone who just can't say 'no', Bernar told the Journal in a telephone interview yesterday (Tuesday). "DCFS knows he can't say 'no'. They (Illinois Dept. of Children and Family Services) have their safety net with Maryville. Father Smyth is like Father Flanagan of Boys Town. He believes there is good in every boy and girl and he won't give up."

Bernar, like thousands of other Maryville grads and former residents, became perplexed and troubled this past week to learn that a report conducted by a University of Illinois psychologist hired by Maryville found major problems at the 120-year-old Catholic academy located at Central and River roads on Des Plaines' north side.

Apparently, the problems at Maryville began about five years ago when the DCFS stopped shipping troubled wards of the state to more structured, locked facilities in other states. The decision then was based on the premise that those children could get better, less-expensive treatment in Illinois. The kind-hearted Father Smyth, who since the early 1960s had flung open the institution's doors to children in need, accepted those severely troubled children. His approach was to stress kindness and family values. And while that approached had worked for years with many of the hundreds of thousands of wards of the state who have passed through Maryville on their way to adulthood, it apparently did not work for some of these more troubled children, some of whom are mentally ill.

Ron Davidson, the University of Illinois Chicago psychologist, who earlier this year helped scrap the family-teaching model at Maryville-owned Scott Nolan Center in Des Plaines, recommended that similar reforms be put in place at Marvyille's main campus. The Nolan Center, a psychiatric facility, is the former Forest Hospital located on Rand Road. Father Smyth reportedly has agreed to Davidson's recommendations that call for greater psychiatric care, which will undoubtedly lead to more children at Maryville being put on drugs. Father Smyth, with his belief in stressing love and family values, finds it difficult to accept the fact that some kids need drug treatment.

"Father Smyth doesn't believe in drugging kids until they become like zombies," said Bernar, who resided at Maryville form 1951-63, when he turned. 18.

"After Maryville, then what happens to these kids? He believes in love and family care because of his soft side. Yes, I can see that he is stubborn. If he quit Maryville, I don't know what would happen. He believes he can save every child." stressed Bernar.

John Smyth, 68, a former basketball standout at Notre Dame University, shunned the life of professional sports and money, by becoming a priest. Around 1962, he was assigned to Maryville Academy, a 100-acre campus owned by the Chicago Catholic Archdiocese, that provides a place for wards of the state to live.

Bernar confirmed a story that has been told over the years that Smyth, in the 1960s, saved Maryville from closing. As the story goes, then Cardinal John Cody of the Chicago Archdiocese, was threatening to close Maryville, apparently because of financial difficulties. Smyth asked Cody to give him one year's time to try to turn around the academy. If after that period of time, Maryville's fortunes hadn't been reversed, then the academy could close.

With that one year reprieve, Smyth set out to save the institution from being shuttered. Smyth rolled up his sleeves and began the task of making important personal contacts with influential individuals and raising hundreds of millions of dollars. One such fundraiser is the annual Chuck Wagon Days, held every June where throngs of Maryville supporters, many of them top state politicians, TV personalities and sports stars, donate large sums of money. Now 32-years-old, Chuck Wagon Days raises at least $3 to $4 million annually.

Bernar said that at one point in time, Cardinal Cody told Smyth that he would have to give half of the proceeds raised during Chuck Wagon Days to the Archdiocese. Smyth flatly refused.

"He wasn't afraid to stand up to Cardinal Cody," laughed Bernar, adding that Smyth raised that money to benefit the kids of Maryville.

Bernar, 57, said that if it wasn't for Maryville, he probably would have died many years ago. Bernar was taken to Maryville when he was six years old because of problems with his family who lived just south of Chicago. He said prior to moving to Maryville, he had lived in two foster homes and had spent time in Cook County Jail.

"I was a grown man by the age of six," Bernar related. "When I got out of Maryville, I soon realized that if it hadn't been for Maryville, I would have either been dead or in jail."

Today, Bernar, along with a group of other former Maryville students, make up the institution's Alumni Association for its total 22 campuses.

"A total of 18,000 kids go through Maryville every year," said Bernar. He added that he believes Maryville has taken steps in recent years to make improvements. For instance, Bernar said, a few years ago approximately 30 employees at Maryville were terminated because of poor work performance.

After he left Maryville at age 18---a requirement---Bernar said he landed a job with his father at the Pullman Standard Co. in Chicago for a while. After almost joining the military, he worked at Littelfuse in Des Plaines for a few years before learning about a job opening at the Des Plaines Public Works Dept. After an interview with then assistant Public Works Commissioner Joseph Schwab, Bernar was hired as a garbage collector and in the meter department.

Bernar met his wife, April, a Maine West High School graduate, in 1966. He has been employed with the City of Des Plaines for the last 35 years.

"We are so committed to this man," said Bernar referring to Father Smyth. "If he can't say 'no', who am I to say 'no'?"

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