Catholic World News News Feature

Breach of Faith October 17, 2001

By Brian O'Neel

In the Diocese of Santa Rosa, California, the people are always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In what can only be called a nightmarish year for everyone concerned, the diocese has endured a relentless barrage of scandals and bad headlines. In their wake has been left a shattered faith for some Catholics and shattered trust among the rest.

The trouble began percolating in 1993, when several young men accused a priest of having assaulted them sexually when they had been teenagers at a summer camp. Over the next few years, four more priests became entangled in sex abuse cases. Headlines about the molestation charges began to appear regularly in the local paper, the Santa Rosa Press Democrat.

In 1996, Father Jorge Hume Salas, a priest at St. Mary of the Angels parish in Ukiah, admitted he has stolen $1,200 from the collection plate. Before charges could be filed against him, however, Bishop G. Patrick Ziemann prevailed upon the police chief--a Catholic and parishioner at St. Mary's--to drop the case, which was kept under wraps for the next three years.

Through it all, Ziemann presented a reassuring and pastoral face to parishioners throughout the diocese. As if to emphasize his contention that all was fine, he authorized numerous building projects. His administrative style and actions conveyed the message that while the Diocese of Santa Rosa might face a lot of unseemly court cases, the Church and her people there would persevere.

Then on the morning of July 20, 1999, the local newspapers broke the story that Salas had filed a suit accusing Ziemann of coercing sexual favors. According to Salas, Ziemann demanded sex in return for the bishop's promise that he would not give the police evidence regarding Salas' crime. Thus began (according to the Salas lawsuit) a two-year period of late night encounters at the bishop's residence and in hotels. The lawsuit alleged: "Often [Salas] would cry when forced to perform acts on Ziemann, and he begged Ziemann to stop calling him for sex. Ziemann would tell him over and over that this was the last time."

Less than a week after that story hit the headlines, Ziemann announced his resignation. Pope John Paul II named San Francisco's Archbishop William Levada to act as apostolic administrator of the diocese until the Vatican could name a replacement.

At this point, most of the Catholic faithful in the diocese thought the worst was over. They were wrong.

Upon assuming his new responsibilities, Archbishop Levada ordered an audit of the diocesan books and found a level of mismanagement that stunned and amazed everyone concerned. The diocese was somewhere between $16 million and $30 million in debt. The diocese had become involved in shady European pyramid schemes; it had no money to cover payroll; it was on the verge of losing its medical coverage. Only an emergency loan of $6 million that Levada arranged from the state's other dioceses enabled Santa Rosa to meet its immediate payroll obligations.

Not long after this, the papers reported that another priest was alleged to have seduced a mentally unstable female schoolteacher. This was followed by the revelation of still more details about a cast of characters from the Santa Rosa diocese: the bishop, Salas, the former diocesan finance administrator, and the priests who had previously been accused of sexual assault.

HOW DID IT ALL BEGIN?

The story more or less begins with the appointment of Ziemann as the fifth bishop of the Diocese of Santa Rosa, which encompasses over 11,000 square miles, stretching from Petaluma, which is an hour and a half north of San Francisco, to the Oregon border. Prior to his appointment, Ziemann was serving as an auxiliary bishop for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, with responsibility for the Santa Barbara region. He had also taught at the archdiocesan seminary high school, Our Lady Queen of Angels.

As he would be in Santa Rosa, Bishop Ziemann was quite popular with his parishioners in Santa Barbara. Area resident Ron Lawson collaborated frequently with the auxiliary bishop, and says:

I found him to be quite effective and adroit in handling challenging questions in an orthodox manner. As far as I know, there were no inklings of his problems in the Santa Barbara region, and everyone was quite unhappy to see him go. It was a blow to effective young adult ministry, as far as I'm concerned.

A former seminarian who studied under his care recalls that Bishop Ziemann was a favorite at the Los Angeles major seminary. "He would actually come and visit seminarians," he says. "He took an active interest in us, whereas the other auxiliaries were never heard from. His region was where all the seminarians were coming from."

Given that background, it is not surprising that Bishop Ziemann was chosen to head the Diocese of Santa Rosa. That diocese has found it difficult to recruit men for the priesthood from its own parishes. Bishop Ziemann was likely seen as antidote for that problem. And given his pastoral successes, especially with young people, he was probably seen as someone who could cope successfully with the sexual scandals that were then coming to light.

When he arrived in the summer of 1992, Ziemann made a quick and favorable impression. The big, burly man insisted that his flock call him "Bishop Pat." He developed a reputation for giving out hugs, in much the way that St. Nicholas distributed alms to the poor. He set about expanding the diocese's ministry to Latinos, the poor, the homeless, and AIDS patients. He accompanied diocesan youth to Denver for World Youth Day 1993.

"He was the type of bishop who chose to spend Christmas Day each year with clients of our homeless programs, listening to their stories, and distributing donated gifts," said Catholic Charities Executive Director Maureen Shaw.

A member of the board for the local Catholic Charities, Barbara Konicek, said:

Catholic Charities was not going too well when he arrived. It needed leadership. Before he got here, the other bishops were not as sympathetic to the homeless and poor. [Ziemann] thought we could do more. The new bishop bolstered the diocese's youth ministry, creating one of the largest programs in the nation. "If he had an invitation to speak to young people," said Director of Youth Ministry Stan Cordero, "he would make every effort to be there. It didn't matter how big or how small the group was."

Even detractors admired Ziemann's efforts. One diocesan priest, who declined to be identified, said:

There was no end of his enthusiasm and no end to his zeal. He would drive for hours up to Crescent City just to confirm five young people. Anybody who tried to keep up with him would have been exhausted.

SIGNS OF TROUBLE

But beneath the surface, there were some noteworthy indications that Bishop Ziemann was ill suited for the job ahead of him.

According to the Press Democrat, in 1980 Ziemann was asked by a former high school seminary student to investigate his allegations that his principal had molested him and a friend.

"I expected Father Ziemann to cause an investigation," said the student, Richard Nason. "I understood that he would take action."

Years later, however, Nason discovered that Ziemann had done nothing. "I felt let down by Father Ziemann, and was very distressed that the abuse had continued," he says. Ziemann denies that Nason told him anything significant.

Another telltale incident occurred just a few months prior to Ziemann's installation as bishop of Santa Rosa, when a high profile theft and sex scandal broke in the Santa Barbara region. On May 29, police in Hollywood arrested a Simi Valley priest for possessing traces of cocaine. The priest was found in a car carrying $10,000 in cash, and accompanied by an illegal Mexican immigrant.

An investigation discovered a total of $60,000 in cash in the car and apartment of the accused cleric, Father David Piroli. But despite indications that the money had been taken from parish funds, Ziemann and other diocesan officials refused to press charges against the priest. This situation greatly frustrated police. At the time Bishop Ziemann told the Los Angeles Times that he did not press charges because, "We wanted to hear Piroli's side of the story."

Succumbing to pressure from law-enforcement officials, Ziemann eventually relented, and allowed the district attorney to bring embezzlement charges against Piroli. During the final stage of the trial, prosecutors and investigators were stunned to learn that the archdiocese had audited Piroli's parish bookkeeping records, but had kept the results of that audit secret.

In retrospect, an observer can begin to see the emergence of a pattern of behavior, in which Bishop Ziemann assured victims and officials that he would do something to correct a problem, but then in fact did nothing. That pattern would repeat itself over the next seven years in Santa Rosa.

Another indication that Ziemann was not up to the task of heading his own diocese came in comments he made to the congregation at a farewell Mass in Carpinteria, just before he left for Northern California. Nasson, the former seminarian, recalls:

In his homily, he commented--something along the lines that this was the first time he'd ever been put in charge of something. I guess he was an associate pastor as a young priest, and then spent much of his time teaching teenage seminarians.

Then he was made auxiliary bishop, in which he did a lot of traveling. But none of these positions were ones involving the sort of administrative/pastoral authority exercised by a pastor or ordinary.

I didn't think much of it at the time, but obviously the lack of experience and competence in that area came home to roost.

FIRST IRREGULARITIES

When Bishop Ziemann arrived in Santa Rosa, he quickly became acquainted with Msgr. Thomas Keys, the diocese's chief financial officer and vicar general. Msgr. Keys had been in the diocese 22 years, arriving in Santa Rosa shortly after his ordination in Ireland. In 1979, he was made diocesan chancellor. He became financial officer in 1985, and in 1987 was made vicar general, a position in which he served three bishops. During the year in which the Vatican was conducting the search that culminated in Ziemann's appointment, Keys served as interim administrator of the diocese. His temporary tenure earned him a reputation as aloof and somewhat autocratic, exercising "unbridled power in making things happen in the six-county North Coast church," according to the Press Democrat.

Less than two weeks after his installation in Santa Rosa, Bishop Ziemann met Salas for the first time. At the time, Salas was not an ordained priest. He had come to the North Coast on the recommendation of Father Jesse Galaz, the director of vocations for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. After meeting with Santa Rosa's director of Hispanic vocations, Father Xavier Ochoa, Salas arranged a meeting with Ziemann. Based on this meeting, Ziemann assigned Salas to St. Mary of the Angels parish in Ukiah, which lies nearly three hours north of San Francisco.

Salas was assigned to try to increase Hispanic participation in the parish--a job he reportedly performed well. He started a parish soccer team and actively worked to make more Latinos active in the predominantly "Anglo" parish. But there were also some irregularities.

"When he got here, he started a youth group and a soccer team with the uniforms, trophies and the whole bit," says Sister Jane Kelly, PBVM, who had been appointed by Ziemann to act as Salas's supervisor. Salas had been collecting money from families for the programs. She continues:

I asked him, "Where is the money for all of this?" He said he was keeping it. I said, "You can't do that, Jorge, you have to do it through the pastor.

Also irregular was the way in which Salas became a priest. He told Sister Kelly, Bishop Ziemann, and others that he had taken numerous theology, philosophy, and other classes over a period of three years in the Universidad Intercontinental and the Universidad La Salle in Mexico City. Based on those assurances, and despite his lack of formal seminary study, Salas was ordained by Ziemann in November 1993. This, says Sister Kelly, was the beginning of the end.

When he first came to the parish, Salas had been involved in religious-education programs and other pastoral efforts. But "once he got ordained, that all went out the window," recalls Sister Kelly. "Also, he was always asking for donations, every time he baptized a baby, every time he celebrated reconciliation, or First Communion," she adds. "It was obvious he was not out for the spiritual good of the people."

THE PROBLEM EMERGES

Less than three years later, Ziemann removed Salas from St. Mary's parish, although no one would give a reason for the transfer. Salas was assigned to St. Anthony's parish in Mendocino for a short time, but the pastor there, according to Kelly, quickly protested. So Salas was again transferred, to St. John the Baptist Church in Healdsburg, a 20 minute drive away from Santa Rosa, where he spent a year learning English and working with AIDS patients. In February 1998, he was moved to St. John Church in Napa.

According to the Press Democrat, St. John's pastor Father Tim O'Sullivan said Bishop Ziemann had told him that Salas had had some problems in Ukiah, but would not elaborate. "I quickly learned much more," said O'Sullivan. When asked to elaborate for this story, O'Sullivan declined.

For nearly two years, as it turns out, Sister Kelly and others had pleaded with Bishop Ziemann to tell the world what that "much more" was. Repeatedly stonewalled by Bishop Pat, however, Sister Kelly finally went public with her story in January 1996.

St. Mary's pastor Father Hans Ruygt had essentially fired Salas for stealing from the collection. But that was not all. In April 1996, three months before he was removed from St. Mary of the Angels, several Latino leaders in the area met with Bishop Ziemann. They gave him the tape-recorded statements of four young adult males who charged that Salas had sexually approached them.

To put that meeting in context, it should be understood that the Latino parishioners met with Ziemann just five months after the bishop had urged a gathering of the diocesan faithful to pray for healing after the rash of sex abuse scandals that were then already rocking the diocese. At that gathering, the bishop promised that he would quickly follow up on any credible allegations of clerical sexual abuse.

According to the Press Democrat, "The alleged incidents on the Ukiah tape ranged from sexual groping to masturbation of one man while he was sleeping." Ramon Mendoza, who was present when the men taped their statements and when Ziemann heard them said, "We were told he would take care of everything."

But as he had done in 1980 in the case involving Richard Nason, Bishop Ziemann claimed that while he remembers the meeting with the parishioners from St. Mary of the Angels, he never received any tapes. "I don't have anything like that," he said when questioned about the tapes. He refused all other comment.

STOLEN FUNDS

A month later, Father Salas confessed to stealing money the collection money. For nearly a year his pastor, Father Hans Ruygt, had suspected that someone was stealing from the parish, because certain regular sums, which came in regularly for particular parishioners, were missing from the collection basket. He asked the Ukiah police to set up surveillance cameras in the church office. The thefts stopped temporarily, but in early 1996 they began again.

A Ukiah detective later concluded that Salas was taking bank bags out of the safe, breaking the seal, and removing some cash. Salas would place the remaining money in an identical bank bag, which he would then freshly seal and place in the safe. Father Rugyt and the parish staff realized that Salas was the culprit after they began using numbered bags for specific collections.

When they confronted him on May 26, 1996, Salas had a young male in his room at the rectory. This was despite Bishop Zeimann's specific order that Salas should not allow any young male visitors to stay overnight in his rectory room.

The day after Salas was confronted and confessed, Bishop Ziemann drove to Ukiah. He met with Father Rugyt and with Ukiah police chief Fred Keplinger, a St. Mary's parishioner. Confronted with the evidence of Salas's theft, the bishop admonished everyone to keep silent. "It was the only time I ever allowed my religion to interfere with my professional duties," said Keplinger. "It was a mistake I deeply regret."

Because the diocese would not press charges, Keplinger could not pursue the case. Bishop Ziemann arranged for St. Mary's to receive $4,100 to reimburse the parish for the theft, although Father Rugyt claims the stolen funds amounted to roughly $10,000. (Salas only admits to taking $1,200; he claims that he gave the money to Hispanic charities.)

It was in this context that on March 7, less than two months after the Salas story broke, Bishop Ziemann went to speak to St. Anthony Church in Mendocino. According to a transcript of the meeting that formed the basis for reports in San Francisco Faith, the bishop specifically assured parishioners that Salas was not a homosexual.

"I sent Father Jorge to a five-day residential therapy program," Ziemann told the assembly, "and they confirmed that he was not a pedophile and that he was heterosexual."

Asked why the Church had not prosecuted Salas for his theft, Ziemann explained:

My legal advisors said his confession would not hold up in court because it was a confession made to Father Hans, behind a closed door, on the other side of which was a policeman taking notes. So we had to make a judgement not to prosecute even though that disappointed some of the parish council people. But it was a judgment made under the advice of counsel.

The bishop tossed in another consideration:

And there was the dilemma, of course, that Father Jorge had a very strong following of Hispanic people in that parish, and I just didn't want something to go to court that would be thrown out of court.

There then ensued a remarkable exchange. One parishioner asked Bishop Pat how he could have transferred Salas to a new parish". "I don't understand why a priest who has stolen money does not lose his job."

Ziemann responded, "Well, I removed him because of that."

The parishioner riposted, "You removed him, but assigned him to another parish."

"I removed him for a year and nine months," said Ziemann. "When he was sent to Napa, one of the conditions was that he was not to be anywhere near money."

To this another parishioner said, "If a man steals money, then his character is probably not sound."

"Sure, sure," Ziemann replied, continuing:

But then you have the problem, of course, that, according to Church law, then we would have to give him a stipend the rest of his life. We have to take care of him. He is one of ours, huh? … A priest is not an employee. I can't just fire him.

Noting that Salas was again accused of accosting young Hispanic men at his new parish in Napa, someone asked Ziemann how a parish could know if a transferred priest is morally upright. "You can certainly ask me," Ziemann said. "If there's something in the past, I will tell those who need to know." This echoed the comment he had made on several occasions: "I will respond to any credible accusations."