Born: 16 April 1897, Clonmel, County Tipperary
Entered: 31 August 1914, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1927, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1930, St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street, Dublin
Died: 02 August 1954, Dublin

Part of Crescent College community, Limerick at time of his death.

Father was a Senior Inspector of National Schools, and now resides with his mother at Grosvenor Square, Rathmines, Dublin.

Eldest son of four boys (1 deceased) and nine girls.

Early education at a Convent school and at a Christian Brothers school in Dublin, he then went to the Christian Brothers School in Derry, and again at the Christian Brothers School in Armagh. At 11 years of age he went to Clongowes Wood College SJ

by 1923 in Australia - Regency at Xavier College, Kew and St Patrick’s College, Melbourne
by 1929 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) making Tertianship

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Francis O'Riordan arrived at Xavier College for regency in 1923, but moved to St Patrick's College in 1924. He was also assistant prefect of studies.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 29th Year No 4 1954
Obituary:
Father Francis O’Riordan

Father O'Riordan was born in Clonmel on April 16th, 1897, son of the late Jeremiah O'Riordan, Senior Inspector of National Schools. He was educated at Clongowes and with seven school companions, entered the Noviceship at Tullabeg in August, 1914. After philosophy in Milltown Park, he went to Australia for his regency, and taught for three years at Kew College and St. Patrick's, Melbourne. He went to Milltown for theology and was ordained in 1927. He was at St. Beuno's for his Tertianship and then took up teaching at Belvedere where he remained until 1945. In this year signs of nervous trouble appeared and he was transferred to Clongowes, but as his health showed further deterioration, he was changed to the Crescent in the following year. The nervous breakdown, however, was not prevented and the remaining years of his life were spent under a mental cloud. A few months before he died, he was removed for a serious operation to a Dublin nursing home. This change seemed to improve him mentally very much and he appreciated the devoted attention he received. However, the expected improvement in his general health did not take place and he passed peacefully away on the morning of August 2nd, 1954, after receiving the last sacraments. His nurses spoke in admiration of the patience with which he endured discomfort and pain of the last weeks of his life and of the general air of peace and tranquility of soul.
Father O'Riordan was a great loss to the Colleges, for besides being an excellent teacher of elementary Mathematics he was in many respects an ideal Prefect of Junior boys. To maintain a high standard of discipline, he did not require to punish much as he exercised by his mere presence wonderful control. It was striking to note how the noise of the playground sank to a murmur when he appeared on the playground steps and just gazed around the quadrangle, or how the crookedest “crocodile” became a straight line when he “took the salute”. He liked these dramatic appearances and the boys liked them also. A very amusing photograph in the 1948 Belvederian entitled “The Courtmartial” which shows Fr. O'Riordan with hands in gown addressing a group of young culprits catches admirably the relations that existed between him and the boys.
Those who lived with him in the same Community will remember how he enlivened the after-dinner recreations by his exhortations to “relax”, his calculation of “boy-hours” and his production of a referee's whistle when he thought the rules of debate were being broken. May God be good to him.

◆ The Clongownian, 1955

Obituary

Father Francis O’Riordan SJ

In 1908 two very small boys came to Clongowes and were of course placed in the Third Line. The elder, Jack, was a bright eyed, bright-tongued little spark of a boy, very quick in class and no less quick on the football field, so that he was, despite his size, the popular hero of many a Line match. The younger was a very different character ; not shy but reticent, not unfriendly but obstinate, and sometimes “difficult”. He had a will of iron. During his last years he never went to “shop”, and no persuading could induce him to share one's supplies of “shop” or hamper, no matter how abundant these might happen to be. Yet he had no streak of meanness, and in later life would often come forward to help out a brother in need. He had very high and somewhat individual standards of conduct. I can still remember the cold contempt with which he tamed a rather loose talker at our refectory table. But he was no “goody-goody” and some of my happiest, recollections of Clongowes are walks with him and one or two companions under the great beeches of Straffan, walks all the pleasanter because stolen from the monotony of play-day. cricket in the Lower Line. In his last year in the Lower Line he suffered a tragic experience. His charming brother took ill, lingered a few days of torrid fever and delirium, and despite the devoted care of Miss Elison and the prayers of Fr. Sullivan with whom he had been a special favourite, died in the infirmary at Clongowes. Naturally, one saw little of Frank in those days of strain and anxiety for he was with his grief-stricken parents. But when he came back to us he was in some strange way changed. Characteristically, I think he never spoke of Jack, but the bond had been a close one and more than ever Frank walked alone.

In August 1914 he went to the noviceship in Tullabeg with six other Clongownians and five more aspirants. Henceforth he was one of “The Twelve” as they liked to nick-name themselves, feeling in a special way the bond of their Apostolic Call. The Jesuit noviceship is, or ought to be, always a hidden and monotonous life, and it was specially so in his time under the guidance of Fr Maher. Of those days only one incident remains in memory. It was with surprise but acquiescence that one heard the most brilliant and not the least spiritual of The Twelve pronounce : “If there is one of us who could be a saint, it is Brother O’Riordan!”

After the normal studies of a Jesuit, and three years' teaching in Melbourne, Fr O'Riordan was posted to Belvedere, where he may be said to have spent all his working life as a priest. A good teacher, it was as Prefect of Studies and Discipline in the Junior House that he made his mark and left a valuable legacy to the Province. One of a long and truly Irish and Catholic family, his own home training must have shown him the happy combination of discipline with affection. He had no trace of sentimentality. He had no favourites. He expected a great deal of even small boys, but he never drove or terrorised. Without any strain or nonsense, he established a tradition of good work and perfect manners in his small kingdom. It was noticeable that when his boys came to the big school and its easier ways, they did not degenerate. On the contrary, four or five years later it was no surprise to find Fr. Frank's prefects and captains guiding the school. He was like most great school masters, something of a figure of mystery to his boys. They stood in awe, not fear, of him, and they were proud of him, knowing he was proud of them and always ready to be their champion.

Above all things he was a most loyal superior to his staff, most of them young men beginning their teaching careers. He way always ready to guide and support them, and they knew and testified to the pains he took to help them to help their boys.

It is curiously difficult now to go back to the mentality of the early war years. The grim feeling of living on the edge of a volcano, the depression of the foot and mouth disease, and the gradual sacrifice of many of the ordinary amenities of life which had to be made with no wave of patriotic feeling to soften the blow all this hit Fr Frank hard.

He had always lived intensely and to some degree solitarily. To the ordinary strain of war time was added failing health. His chief, indeed almost his only recreation had been a game of golf, a social rather than an athletic pursuit. Now with the disappearance of cars that ceased. Problems of food and transport for his boys were real, and bit by bit the times oppressed him. It was only at the end of the war that this mental balance gave way, all the more completely and finally as he strove almost feverishly and even imprudently to resist any such assault. He spent some years in a mental home, able between more severe attacks to preserve a calm and patience by his private reading and his private prayers, but altogether withdrawn from his former friends and interests. Then mercifully a severe illness, not to be expected, supervened. He was taken to a nursing home for treatment and for some months displayed all his old dogged courage and patience. And there, with very devoted nursing, his mind seemed to recover its old peace and content. He expressed his deep gratitude for all that was done for him, and passed away, armed by all the rites of the Church, to a reward that must have been all the greater for its strange delay.

MB

Born: 03 October 1924, Armagh, County Armagh
Entered: 07 September 1942, St Mary's, Emo, County Laois
Ordained: 31 July 1956, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 05 November 1977, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 28 May 2014, Cherryfield Lodge, Dublin

Part of the Milltown Park, Dublin community at the time of death.

by 1973 at New York NY, USA (NEB) studying

◆ Interfuse No 157 : Autumn 2014 & ◆ The Clongownian, 2015

Obituary

Fr Brendan Woods (1924-2014)

3 October 1924: Born in Keady, Co. Armagh.
Early education in CBS, Armagh and St. Patrick's College, Armagh
7 September 1942: Entered the Society at Emo
8 September 1944: First Vows at Emo
1944 - 1947: Rathfarnham - Studied Arts at UCD
1947 - 1950: Tullabeg - Studied Philosophy
1950 - 1952: Clongowes – Teacher
1952 - 1953: Mungret College - Teacher
1953 - 1957: Milltown Park - Studied Theology
31st July 1956: Ordained at Milltown Park, Dublin
1957 - 1958: Tertianship at Rathfarnham
1958 - 1972: Clongowes – Teacher
1972 - 1973: New York - Pastoral Studies
1973 - 1989: Milltown Park; Promoting “Marriage Encounter”; Teaching at Gonzaga; Teaching at Belvedere
5 November 1977: Final Vows
1985 - 1989: Director SpExx; Assistant Librarian
1989 - 1995: Campion House - Director SpExx; Assistant Librarian Milltown Park and Manresa
1995 - 1996: Leeson Street - Librarian, Assistant Librarian at Milltown Park; Director SpExx
1996 - 2002: Milltown Park - Assistant Librarian Milltown Park & Manresa
2002 - 2010: Manresa House - Assistant Librarian Milltown Park and Assistant Comm.
2011 - 2014: Milltown Park - Assistant Comm. Librarian; Director SpExx
2011: Resident in Cherryfield Lodge. Praying for the Church and the Society

Brendan settled well into Cherryfield and appeared happy and content. His condition has been deteriorating for some time. He died peacefully on 28th May 2014. May he rest in the Peace of Christ.

Brendan Woods was an Ulsterman, who spent his Jesuit life in the South; he was a man attracted to solitude, but he entered an apostolic religious order, and thereby guaranteed himself the constant presence of others for nearly seventy-two years. Brendan's Northern accent was not strong, but his upbringing in Northern Ireland, under triumphant and intolerant Unionism, left a deep impression. Very occasionally, Brendan spoke about “What we had to put up with” and he had no sympathy with some Jesuits when, towards the end of the Troubles, they empathised with the fears of Unionists, of whom Brendan said: “They had it all their own way for a long time; they won't anymore; they'll have to get used to it”.

Brendan did not talk about his family, and it was almost by accident that some of us discovered that his sister is a Carmelite nun. He had three brothers, one of whom died the day before Brendan's own death. His friendships were many, including one with a laicised priest working in Dublin as the caretaker of a block of flats. Brendan offered friendship and moral support to a number of 'lost souls', but he never spoke about them; he really did 'do good by stealth.

Community life was never easy for Brendan, and he could seem remote, but in reality, he was warm, witty and quietly supportive. Being so intensely private, he was comfortable expressing his feelings through humour, rather than directly. He could be very perceptive. When Brendan said, of a particular Jesuit, that “He goes around giving retreats to well bred nuns”, he spoke in the light of a major shift in his own life, one that took place after he left teaching at Clongowes in 1972; he had lost interest in any apostolate to the privileged and preferred to work with those who had less money and less security.

Brendan gave many guided retreats at Manresa House, but his greatest satisfaction came from the weeks of guided prayer, usually given as part of a team in many outlying parishes in Dublin. Brendan never learned to drive, so those guided prayer weeks meant long bus journeys, and waits for buses, in all weathers. The effort meant little to him in the light of the reaction of so many ordinary people, as they had their first experience of praying with Scripture and asked “Why did nobody tell us about this before now?” This invigorated and encouraged him, but Brendan, not always a patient man, had no patience at all with one aspect of post-Conciliar religious life: the emphasis on self-improvement. He was impatient with techniques, had no time for the Myers-Briggs Table and regarded the Enneagram as pernicious, being convinced that it was Sufism diluted for Western consumption.

Brendan set very high standards for himself, and never felt that he had met them. He was an excellent teacher at Clongowes and a hardworking assistant librarian at Milltown Park. In neither job did he accept praise, nor feel that he had done well. In even the coldest weather, with only a small radiator for comfort, Brendan worked on the top floor of the Milltown Jesuit Library, cataloguing the collection of books about Ireland, discovering rare pamphlets and taking a special interest in Irish Catholic printers. Being over-cautious, he kept duplicate and even triplicate copies of books, which packed the shelves.

Having had some experiences of book theft, Brendan was a bit paranoid about library security. His love of books, however, meant that even the most tedious library work never seemed to be a chore. When a Jesuit house closed and its library was being cleared, Brendan had a remarkable ability to notice precisely what was lacking in Milltown.

With his a deep appreciation of what it meant to be both Irish and Catholic, Brendan concentrated on the essentials. He had no interest in the disputes about clothes that were so common in Irish Jesuit life in the 1960s and 1970s. Brendan was quick to abandon clerical clothing, and it is doubtful if, latterly, he even owned a Roman collar, but, somehow, there was an indefinable quality about him, so he always looked priestly. Being blessed with a fine head of white hair, Brendan cut a striking figure.

Brendan was quick to appreciate other countries and cultures. He read a vast number of travel books and had a balanced, even sardonic, appreciation of the United States. American crime fiction (to which Americans themselves give the more euphemistic title 'Mystery') was his secret passion and he read many authors long before their fame spread west across the Atlantic.

Marriage Encounter gave him, for thirteen years, a strong link with the United States and had him working closely with Bill White SJ, who was as committed to the work, but was utterly unlike him. Brendan was the organizer, Bill was the inspirer; as in many unexpected pairings, they were a very successful team. Some years before the onset of his own prolonged final illness. Brendan gave up attending Jesuit funerals, because the homily had been replaced by a eulogy, so he had difficulty reconciling what was being said with the reality of the man he had known. His feelings, whether positive or negative, about everything and everybody were strong, but his shyness often made him seem remote or indifferent and was a barrier for many who might have become closer to him. Those who persevered, or who worked with him regularly, discovered his warmth and his compassion.

Brendan's stories were many. Some were based on experience in retreat direction: “If a person on a retreat says that they'd like to meet you after the retreat, for further spiritual direction, you can be assured that you'll never hear from them again!”, in parish supply work, such as the Italian-American parish in New York, where terrified black teenagers returned the chalices stolen on the previous day, because their fence told them that the silverware bore the names of local Mafia families. But was there really an English Jesuit who, in his own retreat talks, used to refer, in his examples for edification, to “a humble Irish lay sister”?

Brendan rose early and prayed often. One year, his entire annual retreat was centered on the Jesus Prayer (“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”). Any hints about his own prayer were revealed inadvertently.

As Brendan's memory began to weaken, his brow settled into a permanent frown, which was very distressing for his friends. Everything seemed to worry him, but he was able to sustain a conversation by focusing on the person speaking to him, never on himself. He was not aware that he had celebrated yet another Jubilee in the Society, which was just as well, because he would have striven, with all his might, to avoid it!

Brendan has earned his rest.