Remembering Monsignor Louis Kollasch

By Monsignor Mark Duchaine

Nov. 1, 2007

Some of these "Remembering" columns are easier to write than others, and this one for Monsignor Lou Kollasch, who died in Rochester, Minnesota, on October 8, at the age of 74, is especially pleasant in that one respect.

I first met Monsignor Kollasch in the spring of 1977, at which time I was a third year seminarian - and a newly ordained transitional deacon - finishing up my studies at St. Meinrad Seminary in southern Indiana. Bishop Greteman had earlier written to inform me that Father Kollasch - as he was then - was going to serveas my priest-supervisor for the one-year pastoral internship I was about to begin. I would spend the next several months with him at Sacred Heart Parish in Fort Dodge.

At the time I did not know Monsignor Kollasch nor did I know anything about him, and so I was a little curious-and anxious-as I prepared to meet him at the Evansville airport in preparation for the two-day workshop that was about to begin. I vividly remember standing at the gate-you used to be able to do that back then-watching as the passengers disembarked. Soon I saw a man of ample girth coming towards me, dressed in a traditional clerical suit further enhanced by black cowboy boots and a Homburg hat. And, of course, besides all that, Monsignor Kollasch was wearing his trademark wide grin. I knew from the beginning that I was going to like this man.

The two of us drove back to the seminary and Monsignor Kollasch was soon in his room at the Guesthouse where he-and thirty other priest-supervisors-would be staying; it was about 4:30 p.m. He then gave me my first assignment: take the ice bucket and fill it up. I couldn't help but notice that he had already pulled a bottle of very fine scotch whiskey from his duffel and was taking the cellophane wrapping off two glasses. Now I really knew that I was going to like this man!

Later that evening, Monsignor Kollasch and I joined the other deacons and their priest-supervisors for the first of several conferences; this one had to do with the essentials of "pastoral ministry." We sat and listened as a learned professor droned on about this and that - all very intellectually and, to be truthful, rather arrogantly. After about a half-hour of this, Monsignor Kollasch leaned over and, in a stage-whisper that carried across the room, said to me, "Mark, this is a load of horse----." Well, with that the learned lecture came to an abrupt end, the entire audience erupted in laughter (minus the professor, of course), and an early beginning to that evening's social hour quickly commenced. Needless to say, Louie-as everyone called him from that moment on-was the most popular man in the group (minus that same professor).

At the funeral Mass for Monsignor Kollasch, his cousin, Father Merle Kollasch, preached a wonderful homily that was, in turn, both touching and uproarious. At one point he mentioned that a priest in the Diocese had said how he learned more about being a priest from Lou in one year than he had from four years of seminary training. That priest was me. And so I'd like to conclude by sharing just two of the very valuable lessons he taught me while I was interning with him in Fort Dodge.

Monsignor Kollasch was not the Pastor of Sacred Heart Parish at that time but was instead serving as Administrator. The Pastor, Monsignor Gerald Kelly, had some years earlier been stricken with Parkinson's Disease and could no longer perform the full assortment of pastoral duties. Indeed, by the time I arrived on the scene he was barely able to get around at all. Nevertheless, he continued to oversee parish affairs and so, at least technically, Monsignor Kollasch was subject to his authority. For some priests this would have been a difficult-if not intolerable-situation. But not for Lou. He not only accepted his role with grace and dignity, but embraced the situation to such a degree that he and Monsignor Kelly became the very best of friends. It was wonderful and awe-inspiring to watch as Lou reached out to Jerry: taking care of him, watching over him, deferring to him. I learned then-and-there what kind of attitude I should have towards my older brother priests: to treat them with the respect and dignity that their years of experience so truly merit.

The second lesson was given just before I left Fort Dodge for my first priestly assignment. Lou and I had been invited to the home of parishioners for drinks and dinner. Following the meal the four of us sat in the living room and the subject of "Monsignors" came up. In my youthful exuberance I was quick to declare that such titles and honors were aberrations, outmoded and harmful to priestly morale. Lou simply looked at me and, with a slight smile, reminded me that the Church had been in existence much longer than had I, and that someone somewhere must have concluded that such honorary rank was of some meaningful significance. I was not convinced, but I kept quiet thereafter. A few years later (1982) Father Kollasch became Monsignor Kollasch, and I remember that when I congratulated him he gave me a little wink along with that big smile. Sixteen years later (1998), when yours truly received the same honor, Monsignor Kollasch congratulated me and I was able to return that wink and smile.

There are so many good things that could be said or written about this good man. But perhaps the best statement was not so much spoken as it was enacted, for when Monsignor Kollasch's funeral Mass took place at St. Mary Church in Humboldt there was not an empty seat to be had, and the number of brother priests in attendance was nothing less than astonishing.

Nowadays, we priests tend to say that all the "characters" in the priesthood are disappearing. That may or may not be true, but it must certainly be said that one more good character has been taken from our ranks. Monsignor Lou was loved, and he will be missed.

"O God, listen favorably to our prayers offered on behalf of your servant and priest, and grant that Louis, who committed himself zealously to the service of your name, may rejoice for ever in the company of your saints. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen."

(Monsignor Mark Duchaine is Vicar General/Vicar Judicial of the Diocese of Sioux City and Pastor of St. Mary Parishes in Mapleton and Oto, and the author of Living Stones: Priests in the Diocese of Sioux City: 1856-2004.)