Father 'One Dollar Bill'

Father Maurice Chase is a well known figure to the poor on skid row in Los Angeles, as well as several US Presidents and numerous movie stars and celebrities around Hollywood. There is not a soul who does not like this holy man and his efforts to help the poor and destitute. The following video and the article by Dennis McCarthy of the LA Daily News explain most of it. http://vimeo.com/5831698

After you see the video, please click the return arrow on top. There is more to it than that . . . . .

In our family he is affectionately referred to as Father Morrie. That was his name when he and my father-in-law roomed together when they attended the University of California in Berkeley in the 1942. After graduating from UCLA (or perhaps even before then) Morrie decided to become a priest and eventually became the fund raiser and assistant to the President of Loyola Marymount University in LA. That is where he met numerous celebrities as mentioned in the article above. What was not included were additional experiences he had such as saying mass for President Kennedy in Palm Desert, visits to the Hearst Castle to be present at parties and first run showings of new movies, and meeting Mother Teresa during her visit to the Brothers of Charity House in LA back in 1995. When he hands out dollar bills on Sunday morning he dresses in an old, red cardigan sweater and his ‘Notre Dame’ cap. But he never forgets to wear his large cross and clerical around his neck. He is truly a remarkable man with lots of stories to tell.

I know, because he did so when I met him in 1994 for the small memorial we had at our house in memory of my father-in-law. We had invited Father Morrie to be present and say a brief Mass for our family members who were there. My mother-in-law, Marcie, and I picked him up at the Oakland airport as he was being escorted by a young lady from the plane. He wore his priest garments with the little clerical around his neck, a sign that lends prestige and certain privileges, as I would find out.

Although we have some in our family who are not Catholic, Father Morrie told us all before the Mass that, if we believed in Jesus Christ, he had no objection for all of us to have communion.
‘I hope the dear Lord will forgive me and you if He should frown upon this solemn act’, was his reasoning. Afterwards several of us told moments and stories about my father-in-law and so did Father Morrie. It was a sad but pleasant afternoon as we shared our thoughts and memories. Dinner was simple and buffet style.

It was the next day before we took Father Morrie back to the airport, when he asked if we could go to Berkeley. He wanted to see the President’s House on campus. He told us that when he was a senior, he got a part time job being the chauffeur for President Sproul. As such he had a small room in the great man’s house and now he would like to see that again. My mother-in-law came along and the three of us drove to the north side of the campus where it is impossible to find a parking spot. However, Father Morrie pointed to the north gate and the small roadway leading up to the President’s House.
‘I cannot go there! That is illegal,’ I exclaimed.
‘Don’t worry. I will take care of it,’ was the reply, and so I drove in. While glaring youngsters made way for these intruders, I parked in front of the big house and we walked up to the front door. That is when our Man took charge.

He knocked on the door and when a startled face appeared, Father Morrie explained, with a big smile, that he had been the chauffeur for past President Sproul and that we would like to see the part of the house where he had spent time studying and sleeping. To my surprise the young man opened the door, invited us in and explained that he and others were in the kitchen preparing for a reception later in the day. We were welcome to see the house but we should not go upstairs, the private rooms of the current school’s President. After Father Morrie gave us the little tour, he disappeared into the kitchen to thank the man who had given us the free run of the house. I was flabbergasted how easy this had been.
That is when I asked him if I could have one of his ‘clericals’, because it was a passport to open new doors and experiences. He smiled and told us more stories as we continued to the airport . . . . .
'Did you know that President Robert Gordon Sproul and his wife Ida came to my first Mass? It was in my hometown of Dinuba, California. That's near Fresno and It was at St. Catherine's on Villa Avenue.'

We still correspond and at Christmas time Sharon and I send him a check for his ‘Fund’. In my last letter to him, I asked him again to write his autobiography and reminded him of our little adventure in Berkeley. In his response to us he included the remark: ‘I’m a pushy sort of guy . . .’ It is a one of his traits and that is why he was able to get donations from friends around the world, and they keep coming. Yet, in the Desert Sun article he had sent us, he had crossed out in red ink the reference to ‘He’s a saint . . . . “

We love you Father Morrie and we know that God will bless you and take care of you! You are a child of Him but a Man of the World. You will be remembered by many.