Anthony Storey 1919-2007

May 1st, 2007

RIP

This special newsletter was a collection of tributes to Fr Anthony Storey.

JULY/AUGUST 2007 Editorial Father Anthony Storey 1919-2007 RIP This special newsletter is a collection of tributes to Fr Tony Storey. His death came just as I was finishing the last issue and I had already decided to use this quotation from Oscar Romero as the Postscript.

A church that doesn’t provoke any crises, a gospel that doesn’t unsettle, a word of God that doesn’t get under anyone’s skin, a word of God that doesn’t touch the real sin of the society in which it is being proclaimed – what gospel is that? Very nice, pious considerations that don’t bother anyone, that’s the way many would like preaching to be. Those preachers who avoid every thorny matter so as not to be harassed, so as not to have conflicts and difficulties, do not light up the world they live in.

In retrospect the choice seems serendipitous: Tony loved to unsettle, get under our skin, and certainly, he lit up our world. I am most grateful to all who have contributed to this issue, and to Susan Frost who has the skills to turn it into a booklet. Should you want a further copy, please download it from our website: www.middlesbroughjp.org. Chris Dove

Tony Storey This issue of our newsletter is devoted to memories of Fr. Tony Storey. I want to pay tribute both to him and also to Bishop John as he steps down from the Diocese. To those of us who were present at Tony’s funeral mass it was obvious how loved and how treasured he had been. So many aspects of him – the curate, the parish priest, the university chaplain, the friend, the mentor, the campaigner, the nature lover and above all the inspirer. Issues of peace and justice were central to his life and with Mary Thompson he founded our Diocesan Justice and Peace Commission. He rarely missed a meeting. The combination of his wide knowledge, awesome intellect and passionate commitment enlightened and encouraged us all. He was able both to enthral and to disturb.

Somehow one always wanted more. He was at his best when striding over the moors, enlivening our walks with his recognition of birdsong, of plants and trees or when addressing topics from a historical, philosophical and spiritual perspective in a way that would both excite and fascinate his audience. Indeed, it was his homilies at Barmoor which ‘lit up our world’. I remember one particularly, when he spoke of us all as ‘children of God – eternally coming forth from the Father, as words of God expressing his mind and becoming co-creators with him, living in the love of his Spirit.’ We shall truly miss him. As mentioned later in the newsletter we are planning to dedicate an area of ancient woodland to his memory as a fitting tribute to him.

I would also like to express our appreciation and gratitude to Bishop John. We have been so fortunate in our Bishop. During his time with our Diocese he has been a bedrock of support, always committed to the work of the Commission – using his experience as CAFOD Bishop to advise and encourage, and helping us to raise awareness of peace and justice issues throughout the diocese. He was particularly enthusiastic about new initiatives – especially around the involvement of young people and would help us in any way he could. We are hopeful that recent appointments of a CAFOD regional officer, and of Youth and Adult formation teams with so many possibilities of working together will continue to enhance the initiatives which he particularly valued around the Diocese. Barbara Hungin The Child Two years ago I persuaded a slightly reluctant Fr Storey to record some reminiscences about his early life. Although he had some doubt about the project, the first tape duly arrived. On the cover he had written in his distinctive scrawl ‘Tony’s Story’ .Here are some of his memories. All the direct quotations are his. Tony was born on 6 March 1919 in the East Riding of Yorkshire, the sixth of seven children. His father was the estate manager of the Warter Priory Estate, then owned by Lady Nunburnholme, a descendent of the Duke of Wellington. The house, demolished in the early 1970s, was magnificent and the estate was huge – about 30,000 acres with over a thousand employees including a plumber, gamekeepers, grooms, woodmen and even a mole-catcher. The hierarchy was strictly enforced: Tony was taught to doff his cap to “Lady Nun” the estate workers doffed theirs to Tony’s family. Lady Nunburnholme employed a man called Tasker, a magician in the children’s eyes, to run a generator and to drive the Daimler; no-one else had electricity and most of the transport was horse-drawn, so Tasker’s skills were terribly exciting. Another important figure was the blacksmith, who mended the children’s hoops, skates and toboggans. Tony’s great love of trees must have begun at Warter, where he witnessed the woodmen and their team of shire horses drawing huge trees to the sawmill and distributing logs about the estate. The most important part of the woodman’s job was to keep the woods in “good fettle”. Tony’s father, a skilled horseman, had trained horses for the Great War and Tony learnt to ride on a “little yellow coloured Iceland pony” called Dickie “a stubborn little beast” and spent many hours riding and hunting. His father wrote to Tony at school that Dickie had gone “the way of all flesh”, an expression Tony needed a teacher to explain. He describes it as his first experience “of the death of some creature that I’d really loved and I wept at that”. The Storeys were the only Catholic family on the estate but Tony’s mother, “a wonderful Catholic lady”, saw no problem with this. But education was a difficulty and Tony regretted being parted from the village children when he was sent to a Catholic prep school, Freshfield, in Lancashire. Here he was known as Storey 3. The prep school was an austere crammer ruled over by two terrifying lady dons, one from Cambridge and one from Oxford. One night Tony’s friend set fire to the school because he hated it so much. Although he was discovered and expelled the boys met up again at Stonyhurst. Tony’s parents didn’t think he had a vocation like his brother Peter, but he was an altar server at Freshfield. One day he found himself under the piercing gaze of one of the Mill Hill Fathers who was saying Mass: “I realised I was somehow being told I had to become a priest… I hadn’t the slightest interest in…but somehow I felt, oh what the hell, as though I’d been caught and it bugged me”. From Stonyhurst, where he was very happy, Tony went aged 17 to the English College at Rome. Here the students conversed in Latin and Mussolini was at war with Ethiopia (Abyssinia). Tony recalled seeing lines of African prisoners in the streets. He also saw Hitler and Mussolini “funny little men they were”. When the college was evacuated Tony joined the Home Guard in the East Riding, learning to stick bombs to the side of tanks (substituted by tree trunks) and to fell trees in Dog Kennel Wood, near his old home, a job that both interested and saddened him. Then he continued training at Stonyhurst. He seems to have resisted his vocation in part at least right up until he was due to be ordained in 1943. His doubts stemmed in part from the fact that many of his friends were leaving to fight and also, perhaps, from an inner uncertainty and a sense of being outside the “clerical set”. During his final retreat, however, he had an experience that convinced him of his calling, so that “whether or not I wanted to be a priest or …had any inclination for it, or felt I belonged was irrelevant. I’ve never had any doubt whatever that that is what the Lord wanted me to be…I’ve often felt surprised that the church hasn’t kicked me out but it doesn’t worry me if it does; I’ve fulfilled what the Lord has asked”. Susan Frost

The Priest The following extracts are from Fr Peter Keeling’s Appreciation of Fr Anthony Storey given at his Requiem Mass on 9 May 2007 at St Charles, Hull:

It was only last Friday in our parish hall in Middlesbrough that a woman I thought I did not know said to me “Do you recognise me?” A dangerous question. Before I could think of a tactful answer, she rescued me by saying “We sat next to each other in the primary school of St. Joseph’s Middlesbrough”. Then we quickly reminisced about the teachers, Miss McElhatton, Miss Hardy and Sister Mary Baptist. She then added “and there was the curate Father Tony Storey who visited the school regularly and taught us religion”. Sixty years ago I sat at Tony’s feet in the primary school.

Fast forward now sixty years to the monks’ cemetery at Ampleforth, last year in June. On a beautiful day Tony and I are sitting on a bench. We are on retreat with our brother priests. The speaker during the retreat was the impressive Bishop Willie Walsh of the diocese of Killaloe in Ireland. He had given each of us an abridged version of the current Pope Benedict’s letter ‘Deus Caritas Est – God is Love.’ Tony had asked me to read it to him, because the onset of his macula degeneration, his increasing blindness, meant that he couldn’t read. After I finished reading to him, I looked up and there were tears in his eyes. But the reason why I was sitting next to him in 2006 was because I sat in front of him in St Joseph’s Primary School sixty years previously in 1946. He is a major reason why I am a priest.

In 1946 Tony arrived in the parish of St Joseph, Middlesbrough. He’d been ordained in 1943, was then sent to Cambridge University and arrived to his first parish appointment armed with a History degree to my family parish. At the same time there arrived an Irish priest Patrick McEnroe who had just graduated from Oxford University and was also taking up his first appointment. Later in life he was to be prominent in BBC religious broadcasting. The parish priest was a Scotsman called James McMullen. An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman. The Scotsman said to the Englishman, Tony Storey, “So you have a degree from Cambridge?” to the Irishman, Paddy McEnroe, “and you have a degree from Oxford?” “Yes, Father”, they formally replied. Then said the Scotsman “well you‘ll have no difficulty selling these raffle tickets…”

Though amusing in many ways it is an instructive story, a parable, because the institutional Church never really took Tony’s intellectual prowess seriously. It was never given the recognition, the honour and respect it deserved. The institution was frightened of it.

So he is in his first parish. Mainly working class and council estate. Plenty of unemployment and poverty, just after the war. He set about visiting families in their homes and found a warm welcome. He recounts that they used to say “why are you knocking on the door, it’s always open.” You would be taken into the front parlour and when they warmed to you would be invited into the kitchen where the real life was and you’d be offered a jam sandwich. It was a world of dripping sandwiches and cocoa. And he loved it.

At that time my father was an out of work steel worker. He told me of a time Tony came round and said “Mr. Keeling you haven’t put your name down for the Men’s weekend Retreat I’ve organised with the Jesuits at Sunderland. “No”, said my father and then with some embarrassment added, “I’m not working at the moment so I can’t afford it. “ “Yes, I know” replied Tony “that’s why I‘ve paid for you.” He became a legend not only in my family but far and wide for this sort of generosity, compassion and sensitivity. My mother told me that when Mrs.Savage, a neighbour living opposite, was ill he used to go round early in the morning and put her fire on, clean out the ashes, assemble the sticks and paper, fetch the coal, then light it and go back to celebrate the early morning Mass.

But there were tough times as well. He tells of the time his colleague Paddy McEnroe was manhandled in one house by a giant of a man. So Tony said he would go round and talk to him and with his rugby background he was confident he could counter any such manhandling. He knocked on the door and the giant of a man opened it and said “Not another one” and promptly threw Tony into next door’s garden. Tony’s reflection was “it wasn’t that the man didn’t love the Lord. He just didn’t love the institution.”

In mentioning his rugby background I must mention that he was captain of Christ College when he was at Cambridge. He played for Middlesbrough and had a trial for Yorkshire. This explains why he often celebrated Sunday Mass sporting a black eye or having an arm in a sling or carrying a heavy limp. He was also a good cricketer, played for a local league team and formed a parish team. My brother Michael played for this team and it gave him an enthusiasm for the game for the rest of his life.

He regularly visited our house and had meetings in our back kitchen with young workingmen, including one of my brothers Tom who had started work on the railway. When I was older I discovered that these had been Young Christian Worker meetings. This movement was very strong in the heavily industrialised Middlesbrough. Most parishes had a YCW group set up by the priest, supported by the priest but led and run by a young worker. This was an important element, because one aim was to produce leaders for society and the movement did in fact produce many MPs and trade union leaders. Sometime in the sixties the movement went into decline and I once asked Tony the reason for this. He gave one of his typical answers. “Oh” he said “the clergy took up golf.”

With his background how did Tony adapt so well to a working class town? An experience he had in a mental hospital answers this. He used to regularly visit St Luke’s Mental Hospital in Middlesbrough. There were many locked wards and some of the treatment seems primitive now. He determined to treat every patient with the utmost respect and sensitivity. These were Gospel imperatives. One day he was giving the last rites to a particularly deranged, but dying patient. When he had said the words “May the Lord bless you and lift you up and bring you fullness of life”. the patient, in a moment of lucidity, looked at him and said “Thank you for treating me with respect. Even though I was deranged I always heard you. Thank you.” And died.

He believed in treating every person as of absolute worth and with the utmost respect. Aristocrat or peasant, sane or insane made no difference to him. The only rule was to treat all as of absolute worth. He acted as though boundaries did not exist. Like Christ he was a free person. The word Catholic, which means universal, for him, meant that no one was excluded. He had risen above denomination. As a consequence he was frequently invited to speak to other Christian denominations. He would be invited to lead their ministers in days of reflection. Not surprising that he was invited to be the first RC priest to preach in York Minster, since the Reformation. Quakers would attend his Masses at the University Chaplaincy and out of respect for their emphasis on silent worship, after Communion there would be an extended period of silence. He loved using Buddhist meditation techniques and practised yoga.

His interests and influence stretched far and wide. He visited prisoners and corresponded with them. He had a particular empathy for people suffering anxiety and depression. Despite his vitality and optimism, he had bouts of depression and understood how people suffered. Sunshine and clouds were the stuff of his life. He was concerned for the excluded and marginalised. His was a gospel of Justice and Peace. With Mary Thompson he set up the Justice and Peace Commission of the Middlesbrough diocese. On our way here today, Mary’s sister, Trudie, described him very well. She said “Tony Storey never diminished.” He was one of a few priests who actively supported Justice & Peace matters.

He spent many years in Hull and Cottingham. He was here at St Charles for 7 years and at the Hull University Catholic Chaplaincy for 11 years and Holy Cross, Cottingham for 15 years and then 10 years retired in St Vincent’s parish, where he helped out.

After my 10 years in this city of Hull I said to him that I had found the Hull people so warm and friendly. He gave one of his typical answers “Well you see, Pete, most of them are pagans and have never been messed about by the churches. “ For his dedicated work in St Mary’s College, Hull, a building was named after him. For his contribution to university life as catholic chaplain he was awarded an honorary degree. When I succeeded him as catholic chaplain I followed Tony’s advice and immediately went to introduce myself to Sir Brynmor Jones, the Vice Chancellor, who at the end of our conversation said to me “You will never be able to fill his shoes, but that’s your challenge.”

He would want me to thank the staff of Castle Hill hospital who cared for him in his last illness. And thanks to his friends, who supported him so well in the end, symbolised particularly by Marian Hall. Towards the end he said to her “I’ve decided to give in”. “Give in?” she asked. “Give in to the Almighty who loves me”, he said, then after a pause, “not to the Trinity, I’ve never understood that.” He also said “I am going to the Glory”. If that was his last word it was fitting, because St. Irenaeus of Lyons in the second century said, “The glory of God is a person fully alive” Tony Storey was such a person – fully alive. We will miss him. Peter Keeling

The Friend From William Fitzpatrick (aged 16) I first properly met Tony when I was about 8 on a trip to Barmoor with Justice and Peace. Tony always struck me as a very honest, charismatic and clever man, and was always very full of life at every visit to Barmoor. Even though I was 8 it was obvious that he enjoyed spending time with me and my friend Nathan (who also came to Barmoor) and would always join in when Nathan and I were playing games or having the annual water fight. The most memorable occasion was when Tony jumped onto a rope swing and insisted that we pushed him. Even though I was 8, and church wasn’t very exciting for me, Tony’s masses would always be very peaceful and interesting, and they always were throughout each year. Tony had a wide knowledge, and always seemed to know everything. When we went on walks with him he would always enlighten Nathan and me with new facts. I will never forget walking through a field of cows, and him telling me how to defend yourself against a bull attack. Even in old age Tony was extremely active and would always accompany us on walks, he would always be able to tell us the name of the bird that would be calling or the names of different trees. Tony had a very good sense of humour. One year at Barmoor, all he referred to Nathan and me as was “The Beverley Vandals”. One year on a walk, Tony and I thought we had found a hand grenade, he found it hilarious when it turned out to be just an old, empty jar of Marmite someone had left in the field we were walking through. I am proud to have known Tony, it was a delight and he will always remain an influence.

From Canon David W. Smith : Rector of Whitby I know that I am one of many, many clergy and ministers who have valued the love and friendship that Tony Storey gave. I was serving my title in the Anglican Parish of Stokesley in the early seventies when he arrived as the Parish Priest. I was never allowed to walk past the Presbytery but he insisted that I had to call in and say hello, pass the time of day and regale him with any gossip that he didn’t already know! Over the next few years I grew to regard him as not only a brilliant Parish Priest but also as a confidant and friend. If I had time on a Sunday between services I would go and listen to Tony’s sermons. They were always ‘filled with good things’ and the Love of God always shone out of both him and his words. I remember going into his church after the liturgical changes due to Vatican 2 were about to take place. Tony was telling his congregation that, “from next Sunday we are all going to pass the peace to each other. This is very easy and best done with a smile and a handshake.” Then, eyeballing some of his more elderly and holy ladies he said with a twinkle in his eye, “of course, if you think the person sitting next to you is a bit of a bastard, don’t bother!” At that point I decided to leave before Anglican/ R C relations took a dive through my laughter. Over my thirty-five years of ministry, those values of God’s love and friendship which he shared have always remained with me. May he rest in peace.

From Nathan Smith (aged 16) I thought Tony was an inspirational person to be around. I firmly hold the belief that it was impossible to be around him without a smile on your face, due to the wittiness and kindness of him. He seemed to become more and more boisterous in his old age. I remember the time where Tony, Will, his dog (at the time) Shiny and I went up onto the top of a hill near Barmoor. On the way up, it seemed to be a race between Shiny and Tony. Will and I were stranded, out of breath slowly climbing up whilst Tony seemed to walk up effortlessly. At the top of the hill were the ruins of what looked like an old village. Tony was amazed by it, and passed on his knowledge of old burial rituals. He loved the wildlife on the top of the hill, and the enormous view. Tony felt like someone to aspire to, naturally a loving person with what seemed an infinite amount of knowledge.

From Ann Tracy I think of him best sitting on the grass at Barmoor one warm summer’s evening, celebrating Mass with us. We were singing ‘Laudato si’ and it was one of those times when everything seemed to come together – the daisies and the bread and wine, the singing and the circle of friends, and Tony in the centre of it all, delighting in life. And igniting the same joy in those around him.

The Campaigner From Martin Foreman Tony joined Amnesty International soon after its foundation in 1962, and remained a lifelong member. With the winding-up of Hull’s Amnesty group in the early 1980s, Tony convened a small band from Cottingham’s Holy Cross Church to carry on their work. At first meeting in private homes, by 1986 it was robust enough to take on the long-term ‘adoption’ of an individual prisoner’s case. The first adopted prisoner was Albert, a Jehovah’s Witness whose objection to compulsory military service under the USSR had earned him two years in prison. On Albert’s release, the group was allocated the case of Dr U Tin Myo Win. A colleague of Aung San Su Ky, the Nobel laureate and president-elect of Myanmar (Burma), he was released after a petition signed by every member of Hull’s City Council was delivered to the embassy in London. There followed a long campaign on behalf of 10 members of Syria’s Committee for Democratic Freedoms detained under President Assad. They, too, were released. Topical campaigns were also taken up. From 1988, work on behalf of refugees and asylum-seekers gathered pace. In his own right, Tony assisted non-persons washed up on his doorstep by policy towards ‘refused asylum-seekers’. The Urgent Action scheme, with a focus on individuals in desperate need, was another favourite. He also welcomed Amnesty’s highlighting violence against women, appalled that in Britain today two women a week are put to death by their partners. Letter-writing – Amnesty’s basic method – was supplemented by events to broaden public awareness. From 1987 to 2007, Tony promoted an annual concert at Hull’s Ferens Art Gallery. Civic links also led to the institution, from 1995, of the Wilberforce Lecture. This gives a platform for activists of the calibre of Wole Soyinka, Clare Short and Desmond Tutu to address human rights issues. This ‘Wilberforce tradition’ is flowering with commemoration of the abolition of the slave trade. Tony was saddened by aspects of Amnesty’s rise to become the world’s largest mass-membership campaigning organisation. As it turned to address broad human rights issues, he felt a vital focus on individual people was blurred. Tension between women’s rights and the rights of the unborn child is now debated by members, while enthusiastic fund-raising could displace the personalised activism of earlier years. Yet, to a priest and historian, this was a familiar tale of an organisation wrestling with the consequences of success; Tony never made frailty a reason to abandon a friend. The Hull Amnesty Group ceased to meet in April 2007. The author is keen to hear from any who might help its revival.

My most vivid memory of Tony is when he and I visited an old lady high in the mountains in Gran Paradiso, Italy. She had been at the Mass he said in a tiny unused hamlet chapel – he and I in walking gear (no vestments) in fluent Italian and ‘parte Inglese’ for my benefit (I ‘served’). After Mass she talked to him, and it turned out she had a pet chamois so we went to see it. She was ancient, bent and creased – but I will never forget her eyes as she talked to him, they were green and really sparkled. As we were leaving the village he chatted with an old man who told him that she was a recluse who ‘never talked to anyone’. Tony did that to everyone! (including me). John Blatchford

The Historian I first met Tony Storey at a J & P meeting in York more than 20 years ago. I had recently moved to North Yorkshire and when he learned that I was working at the County Record Office I was immediately enlisted to help his researches into the history of Mount Grace Priory and the Lady Chapel. I soon discovered that he and his brother Peter had been interested in the Lady Chapel since the 1940’s and that Tony followed carefully the archaeological investigations which preceded the restoration of the Chapel after the site was purchased in 1952. Little was known about the foundation of the Chapel and the excavations raised more questions. Tony wanted to find the truth behind the traditions and legends associated with the Chapel, which had remained a place of pilgrimage throughout the centuries when Catholics in England were forbidden to practise their religion. As well as strong faith and deep devotion to the martyrs he brought to the task an infectious enthusiasm and the keen mind of a trained historian (he read history at Cambridge) able to track down information and subject it to critical analysis. He could only pursue his research intermittently, when his many other commitments allowed, but he returned to it in so-called ‘retirement’, determined to put together the information he had gathered, so that it would not be lost, and to tell as much of the story as he could, although many questions remained. In June 2001 he gave a talk at the York Catholic History Day entitled ‘Mount Grace Lady Chapel, An Unfinished Quest’. His booklet, Mount Grace Lady Chapel: An Historical Enquiry, was published later that year and is a fitting epitaph for Tony, the historian, who wrote to me after its publication “I’d love to know…. Why the place seemed so important. Perhaps the quest will be triggered by this” Let’s hope it will be. Judith A. Smeaton

Teacher and Chaplain All of us at St Mary’s College have wonderful memories of Fr Tony Storey. He loved teaching and, despite many other commitments, used to come in to teach when St Mary’s was a High School. He was the VIth Form Chaplain at the College from 1988 until his retirement and the talks he gave to the students were truly inspirational. He was a deeply learned, spiritual man and spoke beautifully on just about any subject. He was able to make even the most difficult topics enjoyable and accessible and was able to speak in a language that the VIth formers could understand. Despite his years, he was eternally young and spoke to them on their level. He was passionate about social justice and the work of Amnesty International and this endeared him even more to the students. We were blessed to have him as Chaplain. After his retirement, he kept in contact with the College and loved coming in to celebrate Mass with the whole school community on the major feast days and equally with small groups during the lunch hour. He never turned down a request to help out. He enjoyed the company of young people and they thought the world of him.

He has planted innumerable trees and shrubs in the College grounds and until very recently one could meet him every week tending to the gardens. He was so alive and energetic that it is hard to believe that he is no longer with us.

His spirit and the legacy he has left will never be forgotten. The recently built VIth Form Centre is named after him: a fitting, if inadequate tribute to a great teacher, a great priest and a great man. C. J. Cuthill, St Mary’s College Chaplaincy, Hull.

The Gardener “The two most important things in life are to love – and to plant trees.” Anthony Storey, Priest.

From Trudie Thompson From my many memories of Tony I recall one typical event which showed his love of the land and people. He had asked me to sketch the Lady Chapel at Osmotherley for the history he was writing. We invited him for lunch and afterwards we planned to drive to Osmotherley so that I could make sketches and take photographs of the chapel and Mary and Tony could check the progress of the trees he had planted up there. Before we left I took Tony round our garden to enjoy and profit from his knowledge. “What should I do with this woody caryopteris which isn’t flowering very well?” “Dig it out!” he said. “How old do you think this Bramley apple tree is?” “Maybe 100 years, but you’ll have to cut it down to be sure!” Then I proudly pointed to my young oak tree grown from an acorn, sitting in a beautiful 12” hand-thrown pot from Whitby’s potter in Blackburn’s Yard. Tony’s face took on a horrified look. “How long have you had it?” he asked me. “Ten years,” I said. He groaned – then he offered to plant it for me near the Lady Chapel. I’ve regretted ever since that I didn’t accept his offer immediately. Now perhaps if we get a plot of land with trees in memory of Tony my oak tree can be released and Tony can rest in peace! PS Linda Chetham (nee Allan), tells me that in 1948, when her mother was carrying her, Tony used to go round each week to hang out the washing for her.

The University Chaplain Anthony Storey was chaplain at Hull University when I arrived there in Autumn 1968 – coming in on the tail end of a tumultuous summer, when students everywhere were in revolt and Hull students had staged a sit in at the university. The chaplaincy was an easy-going, warm, welcoming place and most Catholic students tended to gravitate towards it. We must have been a dull, unresponsive lot for Storey, now I come to think about it. Here was a man, a scholar, a man with roots in historical, philosophical and theological abstractions from centuries beyond our ken, a man who never lost his intellectual curiosity and passion, who was eternally interested in the great moral questions of justice, peace, personal morality. He enjoyed being part of an academic community and it gave him the opportunity to engage with like minds that he did not find often within the Church – but those minds were not, on the whole, those of us students. We brought him the perennial everyday dilemmas – ‘can I make my grant last, my parents just broke up, what do I do, I feel depressed and suicidal, I am pregnant ‘– of youth in turbulent times. He didn’t always get his responses right, for he was a man of his times – but most ex-students of Hull will remember him for his wonderful ability to combine intellectualism with zaniness and a difficult celibate life with an amazing capacity to love and give. He was far more than a chaplain. He was, by the end of his tenure, in danger of being burned out from all the demands of being a 24/7 social worker without the usual protections. He didn’t just respond to students but opened his door and his heart to every hard luck case who reached the doorstep, some of whom lived with him on and off or who went away filled with half Storey’s dinner, pockets filled with part of his stipend and wearing his clothes. Anthony Storey was a great priest but, above all, he was a lovely man. Maria Brenton

If ever there was a “human being fully alive” it was Tony. He was an impressively wise and holy man, but also fallible and funny. He once drove us round Hull on a joyful but terrifying journey as he enthusiastically pointed out his beloved landmarks, at the same time failing to notice when the traffic lights were red. Another time, when he was 87 and nearly blind, I was walking with him when we came to a tall ladder stile. Rather nervously I asked, “Will you be OK with this, Tony?” whereupon he ran up the steps and took a giant leap to land safely on the other side. I don’t know whether Tony was born on a Friday, but he had an enormous capacity for loving and giving. Anthea Dove From Kathy Smith See you at the end, pilgrim. I am grateful to have walked a little way with you and hold your words of wisdom, earthly and heavenly, in my heart.

From Nan Saeki: As Parish priest of Cottingham, he had care of the retirement home “Magnolia House”, which had been our family home from 1939 till 1953. Apart from J&P our shared interest was in trees and when he reported that our very old beech tree from that house had been cut down – it was at least 300 years old, he said – he promised to plant another in its place. I was touched by his already growing row of saplings in the presbytery garden. I treasure so many of his words, his meditations, his expositions and was often quite carried away by his talks. His letters, usually brief, ending ‘life, love and peace’ were privileged one-to-one conversations.

Memories from Cottingham Peter Watts writes: “My favourite memory of Fr. Tony goes back to when I was in the Police Force. At the time I was a Police Patrol Driver and about 10.00 a.m. one fine Sunday morning was driving along Nornabel Street in Hull towards Holderness Rd. As I approached the junction with the main road, a car shot past the end of Nornabel St towards the city boundary. I thought, ‘He’s going a bit fast.’ So I drove onto Holderness Rd. and followed him at a safe distance. His speed was a constant 40mph in a 30mph area. Now in those days, it was the custom to warn anyone driving at a speed of up to 40mph and report them for a speed in excess of 40mph. I thought, well he must see me, I’m in a marked police car… but he didn’t. Blue light and siren on, I overtook him. As I was doing so, I saw it was Fr. Tony. He didn’t know me – but I knew him. My thoughts were, ‘I’ve always wanted to do this.’ I pulled up in front of him, went back to his car and said, ‘Father, for doing 40mph in a 30mph zone, for your penance say three Our Fathers and three Hail Marys.’ Then I made the sign of the cross over him and said, ‘Ego te absolvo!’ ‘I’ll say them,’ he said. And you know, he did!”

Mrs. Rosetta Binu: “During the short time I looked after you at the Intensive Care Unit, I came to know that you were a great man, loved and well known. You had a smiling face always and radiated grace. God bless.” Jim and Irene O’Donaghue: “Lots of great memories from our families including walking from Hull to Walsingham and sleeping in haystacks. God love you.”

“The Elysian Fields need care and cultivation, Storey, You’re the man for the job! You left us with such gifts and happy memories. Love Biggsy.”

“Father, thank you for giving me the Last Rites in 1989. You will be forever in my prayer. Pauline.”

“Thank you, Fr. Tony. When I first came to this parish of yours, it was a marvellous revelation of what a real lively loving parish should be.” (Tony Woods-McConville)

“Our friend, Fr. Tony. The most profound human being our family have had the privilege of knowing.” (The Sande Family)

“Tony, you were and continue to be an inspiration. Your outstretched arms, big open hands, clear voice and ability to get to the heart of things will stay with me. I am deeply grateful to have had the privilege of knowing you and being touched by you. Thank you.” (Edwina Parker)

“We shall always remember that day in York when the Pope came. We all had a wonderful day together. You were an inspiration and such a joy to be with. We thank you for your guidance when the children were growing up.” (Teresa and Les Ulyatt)

“Along with my parents, you shaped my faith and were responsible for my sense of justice. I thank you.” (Monica Kent nee Priest)

Father Pat writes: When the news of Tony’s death hit the parish I said, ‘Don’t be sad but rather be glad that you had the special privilege of knowing him. Most people in the diocese and beyond never had that opportunity!’ The names Fr. Storey and Cottingham go together, and not just the Catholic community but the whole community of the village. Tony was so loved by everyone in Cottingham. The first card of condolence came from the community at Zion Church in the village. That says something! His fifteen or so years as Chaplain to Castle Hill Hospital in the village touched so many people too, staff and patients alike. And the care they gave him during his final couple of months there was indescribable! He was truly loved by them all and five of the nurses helped lay him out after he died, they all wanted to be with him and do something for him. When I arrived in the diocese thirty years ago I heard about Fr. Storey, described as a bit of a strange priest, a bit of a ‘looney’. Would that we had more of his type around today! God probably broke the mould when he created Tony! What did he do for me? He set me free to do what I thought to be right and not always to be looking over my shoulder to see what others might be thinking. He always took risks, even here at Holy Cross in his early days when he turned the church round sideways, with lots of opposition from the parish. Now we can’t imagine it any other way! He always was a man of vision, seeing things that the rest of us couldn’t see and maybe still can’t see! He was also the first priest I heard swearing from the pulpit (and getting away with it!). With his ‘posh’ voice it didn’t sound that bad! [Those bastard Pharisees doing those terrible things to Jesus!]. It just wouldn’t sound the same in an Irish accent! Tony dug the ground here at Holy Cross, he planted the seed and all I have to do is to reap the harvest! May you rest in peace, Tony. Thanks for every thing!

From Tom McAlindon For those fortunate enough to have known him, Father Anthony Storey, who has died aged 88, will always be remembered as a uniquely inspiring and gifted individual. The intellectual and scholarly bent of his many-sided nature found much satisfaction during his ten years as chaplain to the University of Hull and as part-time teacher of history and religion at St Mary’s College. Later he became sixth-form chaplain at the College. Father Storey had a natural empathy with the young, a willingness to listen to their troubles, and an infectious enthusiasm in all his undertakings that won him countless life-long friends among his students. The University duly honoured him for his work with an honorary degree, while at St Mary’s the building which houses the Sixth Form, and the history thas been named in his honour ‘The Storey Centre’. After Hull, he was appointed parish priest successively at Stokesley, Richmond, and Bedale, doubling up in these years as chaplain to the RAF at Catterick and Leeming. He then returned in 1981 to the Hull area as parish priest at the Church of the Holy Cross in Cottingham, where he would remain until his retirement in 1996. Here his congregation soon doubled, due in no small measure to his spiritual intensity and the remarkable variety and richness of his eloquent sermons. His great humanitarian instincts found expression in these years in his role as the driving force in the local Amnesty group whose members were both Catholic and Protestant, theist and atheist, and as founder of the charitable Freetown Project for Sierra Leone. He thought this latter project would last about three years, but in fact it is now twenty years old and as provided a parish in that war-torn and desperately poor country with a church, a pre-school centre, a primary school, a vocational school, a bakery, and a clinic with a generator. His compassion is widely known among the poor and unfortunate in Hull, where destitute refugees from many countries found their way to the door of his little retirement house in Goddard’s Avenue. A tall, rangy man with a powerful physique, Anthony was both a natural athlete and a great lover of nature and the outdoors. He captained his college’s rugby team at Cambridge (turned down an offer of a trial for Yorkshire) and was a keen mountaineer (reached 15,000 feet on Mount Kenya, conquered Mount Mormolada in the Dolomites). He became a lively member of the Woodland Trust, tirelessly planting trees in every appropriate spot in North Yorkshire. Despite failing eyesight, he retained his strength of body, vigour of mind, and extraordinary range of interests until the last year of his long life. He was great company, a great human being, a credit to the priesthood. His death leaves a void in the lives of his man, many friends.

When I asked Tom McAlindon for permission to use that part of his obituary, he asked me to add the following:

The obituary was written before the requiem mass in St Charles’, Hull’s city-centre and largest church, an event which I found staggering. This was a mass in memory of an elderly and professionally obscure man, Father – not Monsignor, not Canon, not Bishop – Storey, a parish priest who retired ELEVEN years ago. But the church was packed literally to overflowing: ten minutes before Mass began it was impossible to find even standing room in any part of the church, and the crowd flowed from the packed aisles out into the porch, down the steps and on to the street. Obviously no one, but no one, attended out of respect for ecclesiastical rank, or out of respect for the Church, or because it was in any sense the proper thing to do. They were there because of the extraordinary, intrinsic goodness of a priest whom his church, for no doubt ‘sound’ reasons, felt unable to honour. We knew he had many friends, had touched the lives of countless. But this was beyond our imagining. What about all those people in different parts of the country who would like to have attended but could not? People who knew and loved Tony may like to know that they can buy 3 CDs which he made with Val Goldsack and others, and which are very moving and beautifully put together. Each is a compilation of Tony’s words with appropriate songs on different themes. Val told me that Tony recorded the first-Always with us- in 1998 then in 2001, Hear my Prayer, and finally Loving God made last autumn/winter “when Tony was already ill, but quite adamant that this work, this ministry of prayer must be completed. He must have used the words “this is very important work a dozen times!” The quality of the recordings is first class. Val has added some fine photos of Tony to her website www.valgoldsack.co.uk/tonypage.htm the discs are available at £8 each from JHN Liturgical Music, 3 Poplars Road, Linthorpe, Middlesbrough TS5 6RL

Tony on CD

Commission contacts Barbara Hungin Chair 01642 784398 Sr Mary Walmsley CJ Secretary 01904 464919 Nan Saeki Treasurer 01904 783621 Chris Dove Editor 01947 825043 email: dove.whitby@phonecoop.coop or 22 Blackburns whitby Yard Whitby YO22 4DS website: www.middlesbroughjp.org Please note NEW web address

DIARY Sept 15 Prisons and Prison Justice St Francis Middlsbrough Nov 17 Youth Forum Middlesbrough

In Memoriam Readers are invited to help the Diocese of Middlesbrough Justice and Peace Commission dedicate an area of ancient woodland to the memory of Father Tony Storey, through the Woodland Trust. We can choose a wood in Yorkshire, somewhere significant to Tony, helping the Trust to maintain and preserve it for future generations. Depending on the amount received we will be able to dedicate up to an acre of trees, with a commemorative plaque or even a bench. All donations, however small, will be greatly appreciated. Donate online at www.dedicatetrees.com (select search funds and enter “Fr Anthony Storey”), by phone:0800 026 9650 or in writing to Group Funds The Woodland Trust Autumn Park Dysart Road Grantham Lincs NG31 6LL. For more details, or to request an official form, contact Susan Frost on 01904 638836 or email frost.susan@gmail.com

An Epitaph “He was a sage, a friend, a rock and a towering tree….......... He cared so much about future generations.” Dr Jackie Lukes. Hull Interfaith.