Joan Nockels Wilson - The Book of Timothy: The Devil, My Brother, and Me

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The Book of Timothy

The Book of Timothy is one of the hardest stories Ive ever been privileged to read. Since it must have been an even harder one to write, Joan Nockels Wilson deserves great applause for ushering her readers so gently, yet fiercely, through its many layers.

This story shines a light, rarely seen, on deep sibling love. It also examines the rarely examined consequences, to a whole family, of sexual abuse specifically perpetrated by a spiritual mentorconsequences that leave this author in a deep conflict with the church in which she was raised. She had always, previously, trusted that church to provide support through such trials of the soul, but in this case she can trust only herself, all the way to Vatican City.

Judith Barrington, author of Lifesaving: A Memoir

Prosecutor, marathoner, and heartbroken sister Joan Nockels Wilson combines investigatory skills, endurance, and a thirst for answers possibly even revengein a harrowing quest to track down and confront the priest who molested her brother. Wilsons stunning memoir succeeds on multiple levels, evoking a Chicago childhood steeped in firefighting lore, the Cubs and Catholic ritual, while also transporting us to modern-day Rome and the Vatican, places rich in beauty and hypocrisy. Some books are disturbing, yet should be read regardless. This one equally unnerves and uplifts, using both pathos and dark humor to illuminate the plight of a writer dedicated to family, complex faith, and the tireless pursuit of understanding.

Andromeda Romano-Lax, author of Annie and the Wolves

Partly a crusade for justice, partly an exploration of Catholic theology and history, and in all ways the soul of a determined, loving, faithful sister, Joan Nockels Wilsons memoir The Book of Timothy will remain in your heart forever.

Jo-Ann Mapson, author of Solomons Oak

The Book of Timothy: The Devil, My Brother, and Me

Copyright 2021 by Joan Nockels Wilson

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner.

Book design by Mark E. Cull

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Wilson, Joan Nockels, 1964 author.

Title: The book of Timothy : the devil, my brother, and me : a memoir / Joan Nockels Wilson.

Description: First edition. | [Pasadena, CA] : Boreal Books, [2021]

Identifiers: LCCN 2021019135 (print) | LCCN 2021019136 (ebook) | ISBN 9781597099325 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781597099448 (epub)

Subjects: LCSH: Wilson, Joan Nockels, 1964 | Wilson, Joan Nockels, 1964Family. | Catholic ChurchClergySexual behavior. | Catholic Church. Archdiocese of Chicago (Ill.) | Bible. Timothy, 1st. | Catholic womenUnited StatesBiography. | Child sexual abuse by clergy. Brothers and sisters.

Classification: LCC BX4705.W566 A3 2021 (print) | LCC BX4705.W566 (ebook) | DDC 227/.8306dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021019135

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021019136

The National Endowment for the Arts, the Los Angeles County Arts Commission, the Ahmanson Foundation, the Dwight Stuart Youth Fund, the Max Factor Family Foundation, the Pasadena Tournament of Roses Foundation, the Pasadena Arts & Culture Commission and the City of Pasadena Cultural Affairs Division, the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs, the Audrey & Sydney Irmas Charitable Foundation, the Meta & George Rosenberg Foundation, the Albert and Elaine Borchard Foundation, the Adams Family Foundation, Amazon Literary Partnership, the Sam Francis Foundation, and the Mara W. Breech Foundation partially support Red Hen Press.

First Edition

Published by Boreal Books

an imprint of Red Hen Press

www.borealbooks.org

www.redhen.org

For Walter Nockels (February 4, 1932August 15, 2017) and Mary Blackburn Nockels (August 6, 1932October 10, 2015)

con amore eterno per i miei genitori

CONTENTS

AH my deare angrie Lord,

Since thou dost love, yet strike;

Cast down, yet help afford;

Sure I will do the like .

I will complain, yet praise;

I will bewail, approve:

And all my sour-sweet days

I will lament, and love .

George Herbert, Bitter-Sweet

PROLOGUE

April 22, 2012 Sunday

Im boarding the Leonardo Express, the commuter train from Fiumicino Airport to the Termini Train Station in central Rome. Its four oclock on a Sunday afternoon, and although its April, two weeks after Easter, I expect it to be darker outside. This is a distinctive trait of an Alaskan. Despite the change in latitude, I still expect darkness everywhere and every time.

How did I get to Rome? The simple answer is that it took thirty-eight hours with a layover in Chicago, my birthplace, to gather blessings. Or shall I say curses? And isnt life more complex than the Alaska Airlines flight 30 to British Airways flight 4 to Alitalia flight 110 answer? Dont trips like this really begin ten years prior, devouring, for me, my late thirties and making all of the forties I have lived so far a mess for healthy relationships of any kind?

And my brother? His saga began well before, before he really had a chance, behind a closed door that should have been opened, on a twin bed that should have slept one, under the watch of Saint Michael, who supposedly stood ready to battle. Isnt this where tragic stories really begin? Under the theoretical custody of a guardian angel who could not have cared less? Or, rather, under the watchful eye of a wolf in shepherds clothing? The one who left the ninety-nine grazing peacefully in the verdant pasture to terrorize that solitary, frightened, honey-made lost lamb? In the words of the apostle John, isnt this the true In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God start to it all?

I dont have to say it here, not yet. You must know what Im talking about by my use of certain words and images. The angel who missed his mark (the actual meaning of to sin), the closed door, the wolfdid I say, with the Roman collar?the small bed, and my even smaller brother. You know the story cant be a good one, but what should be picked up, in case you might have missed the cues, the allusions, not a sin in this context, is the fact that I cant say it, admit it, right from the start. That is also the story. Like so many years ago, Im on the outside looking in, fearful of what I might see. More fearful of what I might say. Even more terrified that I might do nothing.

Yet, today, on the Leonardo Express, I am once again the faithful sister. Id given up this mantle for a time as well. But after a lawsuit against a priest, a religious order, and an archdiocese that brought no acknowledgment of wrongdoing and at my brothers simple and complex requestso that no other child may suffer aloneIve made telling my brothers story, Tims story, my personal mission. In this task his story has seemingly become my own. And when it comes to me, I know the ending too well. It can only come with confrontation. With the exception of a trained assassin, who better to confront a serial child abuser than me?