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Amazing Brown Scapular Story
- By Anne Van Tilburg
- Published 08/2/2009
- General Short Stories
- Unrated
I was riding in the car with Cardinal Dougherty, through Fairmont, part of Philadelphia, when we noticed an excited crowd gathered beside the muddy waters of Schuylkill River which paralleled the road we were traveling. Thinking of an accident in which the services of a priest might be needed, the Cardinal at once told the chauffeur to stop the car. An excited man from the fringe of the crowd ran over to us. "It's a girl," he said, "she walked right into the river and disappeared...right out over her head, and disappeared."
It struck me at once that no one appeared to be doing anything about it. The crowd was staring into the murky waters, some in awed silence, some in excited voices corroborating the story of the few witnesses who saw what had happened. Without thinking further, and with an impulse I do not try to explain, I immediately jumped from the car and as I ran to the river, I peeled off my clerical coat, vest and collar, asking where the girl had entered the water.
The Schuylkill has for many years been a notoriously polluted river. As I entered the shallow , cold water, I sank to my knees and then to my thighs in the black smelly mud. "A little more to the right!" people shouted from the shore. I fell into the water and began to swim to free myself from the restraining mud.
"Right there. She disappeared there!" came the shouts. Taking a deep breath, I plunged beneath the water and groped in the moving blackness. My hands struck nothing but the murky water...and soft, slimy mud. I surfaced for air.
Would it be possible to find a body in that blackness? Might not the current have carried it off? I did not know how long ago the accident had occurred. And after so long, could I not give conditional absolution over the corpse through the water? With another breath, I dove again. This time my hand caught on to what seemed to be a reed, or a piece of string. My lungs were bursting for air, and as I surfaced I clutched it in my hand. Something heavy seemed to give away with it. It was the body. In the black waters my hand had caught the string of a Scapular...the Brown Scapular of Mount Carmel...and with it came the water soaked, mud covered body!
Greater shouts arose from the shore. Swimming, I tugged the body until I was near the bank, and then I tried to rise to my feet. I sank in the mud. The lower I went, the more I tried to lift the body from the water, and before I knew it, I was in the limy mud up to my chest and still sinking. Movement was impossible. Suddenly I was submerged. I held my breath as long as I could and then, expecting to inhale the dirty water and to drown, I gasped for air. Voices sounded from afar. Dazedly, I began to realize what had happened. As I lifted the body from the water and had sunk into the mud, the girl's voluminous clothing - heavy with water...had enveloped my head, making it seem that I was completely under water. Realizing that I could breathe, I shouted for help. Soon strong hands were lifting the dead weight above me and helping me from the mud.
Little attention was paid to me as I fell exhausted on the grass, black and smelly with mud. Artificial respiration was being given to the girl in the feeble hope that she might still be alive. I heard the rasping of a burly policeman, "Aw, leave well enough alone," he growled. "I know her kind. Suicide it is. She's dead, leave well enough alone." A wave of resentment swept through me. Somehow I knew, whether just because of the Scapular by which she was found by or by the peaceful expression on her still face...that the officer did not know her "kind". I don't remember just what I said, but I berated the officer and urged the continuation of artificial respiration.
Suddenly, through the awed hush of the crowd there came a tremendous gasp. Soon it came again and again, loud and rhythmic. She was breathing! The girl who had been submerged for many minutes in water and mud was alive! That was many years ago.
The young girl had gone to Holy Mass and Communion in downtown Philadelphia and after wards, not feeling well, she had taken a walk to the park and sat down on a bench to rest. There, she went into a coma and rose from the bench and walked straight ahead into the river. The fact that she was in a coma, or semi-consciousness, explains why her windpipe automatically closed when she entered the water and hence she did not drown. It was a temporary illness, and as far a I know, she is well and alive today. But this experience I shall never forget. It could not have been mere chance that we happened along that toad and that, without having seen the accident, I not only found the spot but my groping hands felt through the dirty water, caught her Scapular and its fragile strings lifted her.
That girl, whose last conscious act was the reception of Holy Communion, would certainly have gone to Heaven, but the Scapular is also Our Lady's sign of Her special protection.
Source: Archbishop Carnana.
It struck me at once that no one appeared to be doing anything about it. The crowd was staring into the murky waters, some in awed silence, some in excited voices corroborating the story of the few witnesses who saw what had happened. Without thinking further, and with an impulse I do not try to explain, I immediately jumped from the car and as I ran to the river, I peeled off my clerical coat, vest and collar, asking where the girl had entered the water.
The Schuylkill has for many years been a notoriously polluted river. As I entered the shallow , cold water, I sank to my knees and then to my thighs in the black smelly mud. "A little more to the right!" people shouted from the shore. I fell into the water and began to swim to free myself from the restraining mud.
"Right there. She disappeared there!" came the shouts. Taking a deep breath, I plunged beneath the water and groped in the moving blackness. My hands struck nothing but the murky water...and soft, slimy mud. I surfaced for air.
Would it be possible to find a body in that blackness? Might not the current have carried it off? I did not know how long ago the accident had occurred. And after so long, could I not give conditional absolution over the corpse through the water? With another breath, I dove again. This time my hand caught on to what seemed to be a reed, or a piece of string. My lungs were bursting for air, and as I surfaced I clutched it in my hand. Something heavy seemed to give away with it. It was the body. In the black waters my hand had caught the string of a Scapular...the Brown Scapular of Mount Carmel...and with it came the water soaked, mud covered body!
Greater shouts arose from the shore. Swimming, I tugged the body until I was near the bank, and then I tried to rise to my feet. I sank in the mud. The lower I went, the more I tried to lift the body from the water, and before I knew it, I was in the limy mud up to my chest and still sinking. Movement was impossible. Suddenly I was submerged. I held my breath as long as I could and then, expecting to inhale the dirty water and to drown, I gasped for air. Voices sounded from afar. Dazedly, I began to realize what had happened. As I lifted the body from the water and had sunk into the mud, the girl's voluminous clothing - heavy with water...had enveloped my head, making it seem that I was completely under water. Realizing that I could breathe, I shouted for help. Soon strong hands were lifting the dead weight above me and helping me from the mud.
Little attention was paid to me as I fell exhausted on the grass, black and smelly with mud. Artificial respiration was being given to the girl in the feeble hope that she might still be alive. I heard the rasping of a burly policeman, "Aw, leave well enough alone," he growled. "I know her kind. Suicide it is. She's dead, leave well enough alone." A wave of resentment swept through me. Somehow I knew, whether just because of the Scapular by which she was found by or by the peaceful expression on her still face...that the officer did not know her "kind". I don't remember just what I said, but I berated the officer and urged the continuation of artificial respiration.
Suddenly, through the awed hush of the crowd there came a tremendous gasp. Soon it came again and again, loud and rhythmic. She was breathing! The girl who had been submerged for many minutes in water and mud was alive! That was many years ago.
The young girl had gone to Holy Mass and Communion in downtown Philadelphia and after wards, not feeling well, she had taken a walk to the park and sat down on a bench to rest. There, she went into a coma and rose from the bench and walked straight ahead into the river. The fact that she was in a coma, or semi-consciousness, explains why her windpipe automatically closed when she entered the water and hence she did not drown. It was a temporary illness, and as far a I know, she is well and alive today. But this experience I shall never forget. It could not have been mere chance that we happened along that toad and that, without having seen the accident, I not only found the spot but my groping hands felt through the dirty water, caught her Scapular and its fragile strings lifted her.
That girl, whose last conscious act was the reception of Holy Communion, would certainly have gone to Heaven, but the Scapular is also Our Lady's sign of Her special protection.
Source: Archbishop Carnana.