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By Suzanne Haugh
Staff Writer
ATLANTA--Turning into one's self and away from community in times of need,
such as dealing with the death of a loved one, can send one down a path where
moving through the pain becomes more difficult. But when relatives and friends,
and people one may hardly know, join to help each other accept God's will,
however painful it may be, hope blooms in sadness and one lives as a testimony
for all that we hold to be true about our faith. An example of how a community
helped to bring about the healing of its members while growing stronger is in
the recent death of 14-year-old Timothy Angulo, a freshman at St. Pius X High
School and member of the Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta.
With only five minutes before the bell was to ring to start school on
Tuesday, Jan. 5, Donald Sasso, principal of St. Pius, received news that Tim
had died suddenly of a heart condition the night before. Like principals in
many other schools, he had a plan for intervening in crises such as these. He
also had experience. In 1995, Kevin DuVall, then a freshman, died unexpectedly
while on a Scout trip. Another painful day came when he had to tell two
brothers, both St. Pius students who had already lost their mother, that their
father had died in a car accident.
"There was no one else to do it," Sasso recalled. "At that
very moment, I was thrust into a role that goes beyond the classes taught
in...a school of education. Sometimes the best words are the words that just
come."
And so it was with Tim's death. Quickly, Sasso called together
administrators, guidance counselors and campus ministers to plan the
appropriate path to take in this case. The group coordinated efforts in
ministering to the students and sent St. Pius chaplain Father John Hopkins, LC,
to assess the Angulo family's needs. They also relied on a phone tree to
contact parents of students who knew Tim.
"In a community our size, of young people who are fragile, and in most
cases who have not experienced all that life brings-- the death of a classmate,
a friend, a young person-- in the midst of all this, leaders of the community
must comfort the young," he said.
When it came time to tell Tim's teachers, closest friends and classmates
from Christ the King School, his homeroom and fellow players on the freshman
football team, Sasso just let the words come.
"Drawing on my experience of working with young people and drawing on
my own experience as a parent, what I find are speaking words from the
heart...to affirm that because of the tragic event they should be, rightfully,
very upset," he said. "We understand that they need time and support
from others to understand what can't be completely understood. As Catholics in
a Catholic school, we have the support of our faith which must be something to
lean on in times like this."
After Sasso broke the news to those who knew Tim and those in the school
community, guidance counselors and campus ministers facilitated small groups in
which the students could react and share their thoughts. Campus minister Jenny
Karns described the mixture of reactions.
"People were affected so differently," she said. "There was a
lot of crying. (For some) it opened up grief already sitting there."
Karns recalled that her job was to "just be there for the
students."
"I needed to shut off my reactions for the time being and focus on the
needs of the students," she said.
For the next few days, Karns welcomed students into her office to share
their memories of Tim. One after another, students remembered how Tim would
sing a silly song to brighten up what may have been a friend's bad day. They
remembered how Tim would light up a room just by walking into it.
"He didn't want center stage; he wanted people to be happy," Karns
recalled one student saying.
They also recalled Tim's energy, enthusiasm, his love of family and how
proud he was of his younger brothers. And many mentioned his love and respect
for his parents.
"My hope is that...they're inspired by a higher order of living,"
Karns said. "Those who have been touched by him can emblazon his
virtues."
Another lesson Karns pointed out relates to the students' faith journey.
"To experience such a loss and to have to find hope in God is a moment
to be growing in their faith," she said. "It helps people to evaluate
the meaning of life."
St. Pius freshman Andrew Destro had no idea that his conversation with his
best friend on the night of Jan. 4 would be his last with him. They talked
about a New Year's Eve party they went to four days earlier and what would
happen on the first day of school following Christmas break.
"I can't remember the rest of the conversation because I thought it was
just another talk Tim and I were going to have."
When Andrew found out Tuesday that Tim had died, he was filled with
"sorrow and grief, but as I listened to everyone talk at the wake and all
the Masses held for Tim, I realized Tim was in a much better place," he
said. "I have learned that if you live a fully loving life, like Tim, then
you will go to heaven without a doubt. I think that Tim's life and death
affected so many people, in so many ways. More people are turning to God for
help, especially Tim's family and friends."
While Andrew's father, after hearing of Tim's death, went to St. Pius to be
with his son, his mother, Mary Destro, felt pulled to be with the Angulo
family.
"We came to the Angulo home that morning to grieve together as one
large family...and to comfort them with the great love and respect we have for
them," she said. "As we shared our faith, we found that we shared a
bond stronger than any of us knew possible, our Catholic faith, and our belief
that there was meaning in all of this great sorrow."
Friends helped the Angulos work out funeral arrangements, plan meals for the
coming weeks and contact others about the news.
"So many friends stepped forward that morning, while hurting so deeply,
but needing to play a part in helping this family in whatever way
possible."
In retrospect, Mary discovered her "most important lesson of
faith."
"Our faith is the great common bond that fuses all who share it into
spiritual company. And it is the Holy Spirit that is the power enabling us to
maintain this unity, for I don't think there can be outward unity until there
is internal unity."
As the Destros and others in the St. Pius and Christ the King communities
began the healing process, so too did Tim's family. For Tim's father, Fred
Angulo, his first reaction, however, was to shut down.
"When I came back from the hospital (after Tim's death), I closed the
door to Tim's room. I was very angry. I didn't know who to call in the
morning," he said.
Fred said those he dealt with at the hospital were compassionate during
their ordeal, but they needed to know what arrangements the family would like
to make for Tim. With his death coming as a total shock, Tim's parents had
little knowledge of how or where to begin.
"I had visions of coming back and looking through the yellow
pages," he said.
But after a few calls in the morning, including one call from Father
Hopkins, some of the heaviness Fred felt began to lift.
"The day after Tim's death, St. Pius came and filled our house and made
me realize that everything would be all right."
St. Pius, as well as those from Christ the King, literally did fill the
Angulo home and brought a change of heart for Fred. Once they learned about
Tim's death, his closest friends left school and went over to the Angulos.
"People who knew Tim went up to his bedroom. I was down talking to
Father John (about funeral arrangements). As I was walking up the stairs, I
became nervous when I saw Tim's door open. A dozen kids were in there pointing
to Tim's things."
At that moment, Fred started to realize more fully how much his son meant to
so many others. Instead of shutting down, he began to open up.
"My first impression was to sell the house, get out of Atlanta and get
away with my family," he said. "Now I want to stay here and live in
our house. There is no greater blessing then to be here for our kids" who
can go to and graduate from Christ the King School and St. Pius. "Now we
know Atlanta is our home."
Tragedy is not a word Fred would use to describe Tim's death.
"Obviously, we miss Tim terribly," he said. "Tim touched a
lot of lives in 14 short years...What I would want to convey to people is a
sense of peace as a result of what has happened. I think that's the gift that
St. Pius and Christ the King gave us."
For Father Hopkins, who spent much of the week following Tim's death with
the Angulo family, the only tragedy would be not learning anything from Tim's
life and not changing one's own. In his homily at a memorial Mass for Tim held
at St. Pius Jan. 21, Father Hopkins challenged those present to leave a legacy.
"The duration of life does not guarantee a full life," he said.
"The important thing is to always live a full life because you never know
when the buzzer will sound."
Tim, he said, left a "beautiful legacy, a critical legacy...I need, in
turn, to leave a legacy. I need to begin it here and now."
Father Hopkins also challenged everyone to concentrate on what one can take
with you upon death. He urged students to put charity, love and a full life in
a suitcase.
"It's what you do for others," he continued, and added that Tim
"left with a huge trunk."
Sasso recalled some qualities Tim had packed in that trunk in his comments
to those gathered at Tim's funeral Jan. 8 at the Cathedral of Christ the King.
"If we close our eyes and listen for his voice we can hear him saying -
'Love your parents and family, love and enjoy one another's company and
friendship.'"
Reflecting on the lessons he has learned through dealing with death, in an
interview Sasso echoed Father Hopkins’ call to lead full lives.
"Cherish the time we have because, by our very nature, that time is
limited. How limited we don't know. When all is said and done, what remains as
most important is love."
Having had to lead others through the healing process following a death,
Sasso often refers to a quote from renowned English professor and editor
Rossiter Worthington Raymond: "Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and
death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our
sight."
Tim has crossed that horizon. For those close to him, for those who knew him
from a distance or not at all, the experience of his death, the experience of a
community dealing with his death, has brought change. If one has walked with
faith one can have hope, as Tim wrote in a journal entry reflecting on his
start in high school.
"I sometimes wonder if the path I'm taking is the right way, but right
now I believe the path is right for me. Whatever path I take, I know God is
always with me."
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