Questions remain
The first complaint arrived on April 21, 1991: The priest at the church on Buttercup Road had young people over at the rectory a bit too often.
That priest, the complainant alleged, was also buying lots of things for at least one young boy. Toys, games and even a trip to the Bahamas.
It's easy to see why the children went to visit. The Rev. William P. O'Malley converted his home to a play house.
He filled it with pinball machines, pool tables, exercise equipment, a hot tub, free snacks and beverages, according to last week's grand jury report on sexual abuse by priests, old neighbors of O'Malley's and a man who said he visited O'Malley's house as a boy.
Out of the hundreds of accused priests named in the grand jury report, O'Malley is one of a group whose stories are raising questions of honor for Cardinal Donald Wuerl. As a bishop, Wuerl moved O'Malley elsewhere when abuse accusations arose and allowed him to continue working as a priest long enough to abuse more children, the report details.
A year after that first complaint, the father of the boy O'Malley had been showering with gifts got involved. He complained to diocese officials that his son had keys to the rectory and was spending nights and weekends with O'Malley, according to the report. O'Malley denied the allegations when questioned by the church in 1992.
An older couple who have lived near St. Fidelis, formerly St. Conrad, in Meridian since O'Malley worked there confirmed that his residence was a gathering place for children and teenagers. They asked not to be named in this story, but offered recollections of O'Malley offering free things to neighborhood kids during his stay. They also remember O'Malley leaving the church rather suddenly.
The couple had heard rumors over the years about their former priest, but at the time knew nothing of his situation, they said. They even visited his next church in Beaver Falls once to see him.
Church audits in 1993 found O'Malley had mismanaged church finances, according to the report. Money had been routed to a local 17-year-old who stayed at the rectory. The pair had a joint bank account.
Later that year, a man reported to the diocese that O'Malley had sexually abused him when he was 22. Church officials asked the priest about it, but O'Malley said he didn't remember if sexual contact had occurred.
In 1997, still more allegations were reported to the diocese, this time concerning O'Malley's activities in the late 1970s. A man told the church that O'Malley had given him alcohol, taken him to bed, removed his clothes and fondled him when he was either 11 or 12 years old. O'Malley also showed him photos of other boys in their underwear and wanted to take photos of him, too, the man told church officials.
When officials confronted O'Malley about it, he said it “probably happened,” the report states.At this point, Wuerl enters the story. He sent O'Malley on a leave of absence to be evaluated.About a month later, doctors told Wuerl that O'Malley was attracted to adolescents and “at a high risk for seeking emotional gratification with adolescents.”Wuerl wrote a note in O'Malley's file four days later after meeting with the priest.“I expressed our desire to help him in whatever way we can do to all of the things that are necessary to present him for priestly ministry,” Wuerl wrote.Wuerl reinstated O'Malley in 1998 as the diocese's canonical consultant tribunal.In 1999, Wuerl approved a church loan to O'Malley of $37,800 to repay his debts.More victims started cropping up in 2002. Three said they too had been assaulted as children in the 1970s. Three said they had been abused from the early 1990s through 1999, meaning O'Malley continued abuse after Wuerl reappointed him.That comes as no surprise to one man, who contacted the Eagle to anonymously share his childhood experiences with O'Malley as a former member of the church. He confirmed several details about O'Malley's stint in Meridian, including his misuse of finances.The man said he spotted O'Malley years later at a grocery story parking lot. The priest, he said, had a car full of boys.Wuerl wrote O'Malley in 2003 asking that he resign. He told O'Malley his “sustenance needs and benefits would continue.” O'Malley died in 2008.The diocese issued information Friday stating that accusations against O'Malley were reported to law enforcement authorities in 2002, 2004, 2006, 2011 and 2017.Cases like O'Malley's are inspiring a reckoning for Wuerl, who in the report's wake has pointed to examples of him taking child predators out of positions of power.“While I understand this report may be critical of some of my actions, I believe the report confirms that I acted with diligence, with concern for the victims and to prevent future acts of abuse,” Wuerl said in a written statement. “I sincerely hope that a just assessment of my actions, past and present, and my continuing commitment to the protection of children will dispel any notions otherwise made by this report.”About 5,000 people had signed an online petition to have Wuerl's name removed from Cardinal Wuerl North Catholic High School in Cranberry as of Friday night.One, a 1999 North Catholic graduate named Megan Fialkovich, said removing abusive priests and protecting children “was his responsibility, and he failed.”The Rev. Nicholas Vaskov, a spokesman for Pittsburgh's diocese, confirmed Friday that the school's board of directors plans to meet to discuss the school's name.Current priests in the area who were contacted deferred making statements to diocese officials. The Rev. Phillip Farrell, who serves the local region, suggested that church members would be more able to speak, and he suggested Bob Dandoy of St. Peter Roman Catholic on Franklin Street in Butler.Dandoy spent the first half of his life at St. Michael on Center Avenue, and has attended St. Peter for the past 30 years.The report's findings, Dandoy said, shook him and everyone in the church, particularly as it related to Wuerl.“I'm not knowing quite enough to make very strong statements,” Dandoy said. “But from my surface understanding, I am profoundly disappointed.”People and the church put their trust in these men, he said. To him, it's important to remember that it was church officials, not God that failed. And “men in power,” he said, need to learn to own their mistakes rather than cover them up.“We have to differentiate between the work of men and the work of God,” Dandoy said. “This is the work of men, not God.”Asked about the path forward for congregations like his own, Dandoy recalled another tragedy that shook him this year: his wife's death earlier this year.“Everybody asks me how I dealt with it,” Dandoy said. “I always say the same thing, and it's the same way we'll get through this. One day at a time.”
