Looking for closure
Man returns to St. John’s after 57 years, tells his story of abuse at St. Pat’s and Mount Cashel
All his life, Cyril Leonard has been quietly bearing the weight of the abuse he suffered as a student at St. Pat’s and Mount Cashel.
Since leaving St. John’s in 1957, he’s lived a storied, often happy, life. He had a long, satisfying military career, travelled Europe, married twice and had several children. But through it all, what happened in St. John’s keeps coming back to gnaw at him.
This week, Leonard returned for the first time, hoping to find closure. He started by sharing his story, which begins at age nine, with The Telegram.
The second-oldest in a family of nine, Leonard said he was a St. Pat’s student when the alleged abuse started around 1949. A Christian Brother he said was named McNally wouldn’t let him go to the bathroom when he felt an urgent need during class.
“I really did have to go, and I did. And the smell, it went all over. So he immediately, the brother, he said, ‘Class dismissed — Master Leonard, you stay.’
“He said anyone that does a wrongdoing has to be punished, and they should be punished severely.”
The brothers always carried a belt as their authority, Leonard noted.
“You could see the little needles in it.”
During this instance, he said, the Brother demanded that every time he strapped Leonard’s arm, he provide the other one to be strapped.
“I could see the blood, and the pain, and it started swelling. And he kept going, 25 on each. Then he said, ‘Drop your pants.’ So naturally, I had to drop my pants. He said, ‘OK, bend over.’ And he didn’t get the soft part of my backside. The hard side up. Just up. And he started to whack, 50 whacks across my lower back,” he said.
“I was in pain and he had done his thing. He said, ‘OK, you get out of here. We’re finished for today.’”
That day it took Leonard two hours to walk home — a trip that normally took 15 minutes. His mother was infuriated when she heard what happened, and went to the rectory to complain. Leonard said she was assured the brother would be reprimanded.
“Oh, he really got punished severely. They transferred him to the orphanage. Mount Cashel Orphanage. You’ve heard about
“He looked at me and I looked at him, and we knew the same thing was in our minds — to run.”
Mount Cashel Orphanage,” he said.
When he went back to school after a few months of treatments, Leonard said, he was sent home due to a family emergency.
His father, who worked in Corner Brook, had died.
“The government of the day came and took myself and my brother. There was nine of us in the family with no way of support,” he said.
Leonard remembers the orphanage they were brought to in vivid detail. He remembers the smell that hit him when he walked in.
“Like dead bodies. You know, a guy that never washed in about 10 years.” He remembers lunch. “Two slices of molasses bread on a plate and a glass of something.” And he remembers the showers. “The brothers touching you and washing you. I see no reason why brothers had to wash nine-yearolds, 10-year-olds. Their job was to assist and teach.”
The day after his arrival at Mount Cashel, he was introduced to his teacher.
“Lo and behold, my teacher turned out to be the monster, Brother McNally. He said, ‘Class, I would like to introduce you to Master Leonard.’ He said, ‘ We’re friends from a way back.’
“You know, at nine years old, you think I would forget the inessentials, but this is not an inessential. I remember every word, every syllable, everything that was said. And with that, it all began again. It started all over again. He picked at me. … I just had no peace.”
On a winter day, Leonard and his brother were looking out the window from the shower.
“He looked at me and I looked at him, and we knew the same thing was in our minds — to run.
“We had no clothes. We had nothing on when we decided. So we just went down, out the door, in the banks of snow and took off.”
The Leonard boys ran home and told their mother what had happened. He said when they came to bring them back to the orphanage, she was at the door with a broom handle, and nobody came back for them again.
“She complained to the government and to the orphanage. We were getting bad treatment in there, there’s no doubt in anybody’s mind. But that’s stories within themselves, believe me. I don’t want to get too many stories mixed up, and there’s a lot.”
The aftermath
Leonard said he was determined not to let what happened affect him. At 14, with a stolen birth certificate to meet the minimum age, he joined the militia. He regained confidence as he worked his way up the ranks, and eventually — after working and going back to night school — he joined the military.
His career moved him to Calgary and he travelled as far abroad as Germany, He eventually settled in Victoria, B.C., where he has been for about 25 years.
But wherever he went, the memories went with him.
“It was always gnawing at me. I mean, in the military you have to take a lot of discipline. And every time a bit of discipline would come at me, I would think of McNally and the way he was, what he done to me and everything,” he said.
For the most part, Leonard kept things to himself.
He said he told a priest once, but ultimately gave up on the Catholic Church.
“I just packed it in and said that’s enough. I read some stories, and I tried to keep up on what was going on here in St. John’s over the years. … I got clippings at home in my drawer. I got a big picture of Mount Cashel. I say, ‘There’s the window I looked out before I ran away.’”
He said he tried to get involved with legal proceedings involving former Mount Cashel residents, but he was told he was too late. He gave up.
“I said what’s the use? I’m happily married now, and even though it’s still there, I had to look after the kids. I had to do this. I had to do that. It wasn’t as powerful as it was previous, but still there. And now it’s back.”
Leonard could never bring himself to come back to St. John’s, even when he was posted in Gander for four years.
“I wouldn’t come in to St. John’s. I blamed everybody in St. John’s for my problem,” he said.
Closure
Leonard changed his mind when his wife saved up and surprised him recently with a trip to St. John’s.
“Coming here, I’ve been frightened to death. How am I going to handle it? What do I do? How do I get closure?” he said.
“I had a piece in my dresser of the class action that went on (over) Mount Cashel. So I read it and read it and read it. I came to the conclusion that I would come, and she would know before we get here. So I quit blaming every Newfoundlander.”
He told himself that when he came back, he’d look into the situation “and ask somebody — anybody — how they handled closure. How they accepted closure. How it came to them. And maybe it would work for me.”
He also wanted to look someone up.
“If there’s a registry, I want to find out if McNally is still alive, or is dead. And down deep, I wanted to go piss on his grave, to be honest with you. And I thought I’ll drink a large bottle of water before I go there as well, so that I can make it last.”
“In the military you have to take a lot of discipline. And every time a bit of discipline would come at me, I would think of McNally and the way he was, what he done to me and everything.”