Father Grant Gallup, 1932-2009, R.I.P.

The news has come to me on this day after Thanksgiving that a dear soul has departed our communion. Grant Gallup was an Episcopal priest who didn't really play by the rules of orthodoxy. He was born in the upper peninsula of Michigan, and was a member of the Stambaugh High School's graduating class of 1949. He became a priest in the diocese of Chicago where he served at the parish of St. Andrews and eventually made his way to the poorest barrio in Managua, Nicaragua. It was there in the barrio known as Monsignor Lezcaño, among his neighbors, that he died on Thanksgiving Day.

Dr. Louie Crew of Rutgers University shared this recollection from Grant’s days at St. Andrews in Chicago: “I remember asking Grant how those at St. Andrew's were dealing with his openness. "The same way I deal with theirs." When someone's son was arrested for using crack, Grant was there to help the family cope. When someone needed groceries to make it to the end of the month, Grant was there for them. His larder was never empty. On some days half the block seemed to show up in his dining room for a meal. He had the gift of endless, joyful hospitality.”

Beloved by so many in Managua, His funeral mass was celebrated today. He was buried in a cemetery just walking distance from the school, guest house and community center known as Casa Ave Maria that he established and maintained.

I shared one of my own memories of Grant on the blog, The Wounded Bird: “I was privileged to have known Grant in his final decades. I was even more blessed to have had the opportunity to visit with him at Casa Ave Maria in Managua on a pair of Christmases in 2003 and 2005. He was a master of hospitality, and his table in the poor barrio of Monsignor Lezcaño was like Louie's remembrance from Chicago, never empty. One night we walked through the streets to a nearby restaurant for a wonderful dinner, upon our stroll home a little boy on a bicycle called out to him, "Hello you old faggot!" and with out missing a beat in our conversation or a hint of irony, he waved at the lad and called back, "Good evening to you sweet boy!" He lived with such a level of honesty and generosity that everyone who knew him respected him and saw in him a witness of God's grace.”