Jordi Gassó Photo
Sun filtered through stained-glass windows, bathing pews with white light as congregation members took their seats.
It wasn’t quite a full house inside the Church of Saint Michael in Wooster Square, but the turnout was still larger than usual. After all, this was a big day for a historic institution: St. Michael’s, the first Italian-American Catholic church in Connecticut, was turning 125 years old.
The church commemorated the milestone at a special Sunday morning mass this past weekend with over 100 parishioners in attendance.
Founded in 1889, the church provided a spiritual haven for the burgeoning Italian immigrant community settling into New Haven at the turn of the century.
“This building is a monument to 125 years of faithful service from those who came looking for a better life,” said Father Ralph Colicchio during his homily.
But in recent decades the parish has seen its numbers dwindle as the descendants of these immigrant families have moved out of the Wooster Square area. The church now holds only one morning mass every Sunday, in contrast to the five fully-packed services it used to offer, Colicchio (at left in photo) told the Independent. Meanwhile, Wooster Square, the historic New Haven epicenter of Italian-American immigrants, has changed, too, with a far more diverse population.
Mass this Sunday, then, was an exceptional affair. Parishioners past and present came back to St. Michael’s to witness the birthday pomp.
A coterie of Knights of Columbus, dressed to the nines with capes and sabers, led the entrance procession. Colicchio, along with young altar servers and candle bearers, walked down the aisle to the hymnal pulse of Schubert’s Deutsche Messe.
Frank Gargano, the mass lector, stood behind the pulpit to deliver readings from the Feast of Saint Michael, a religious observance that officially falls on Sept. 29.
One of the passages came from the Book of Revelation, recounting the war in heaven during the end of days.
“Michael and his angels battled against the dragon,” Gargano recited. “The dragon and its angels fought back, but they did not prevail.”
A bright sculpture of Saint Michael, with the devil at his feet, hung on a wall by the altar, depicting this very scene. Colicchio had the same image emblazoned on his vestments, tailor-made for the occasion.
In the United States, Michael the archangel is the patron saint of guardians and protectors. As such, every year the Church of Saint Michael pays tribute to police officers and other public servants who work to keep the community safe.
Fire investigator Raymond Saracco and retired state trooper John Serra received plaques honoring them for their service. Their families looked on from the front pews as Colicchio commended the two men.
Saracco himself is a product of Saint Michael’s Grammar School, the nursery to 8th grade school affiliated with the church, which shut down in 1993. In fact, many worshippers at the anniversary mass were alumni of the school.
Ron Abbott (at right in photo), a Grand Knight who participated in the mass proceedings, is one of seven children to have graduated from Saint Michael’s.
Abbott’s great-grandparents came to New Haven from Sicily. His grandmother was baptized at the church. Growing up, he volunteered as an altar boy.
For Abbott, St. Michael’s is synonymous with family.
“It’s heritage. It goes back so many generations,” he said. “Even though people have moved away, they still have a love for the church.”
He commutes from East Haven to St. Michael’s with his wife and two children every Sunday. But these days, descendants like Abbott are the exception, not the rule.
Patti Jo Esposito (at left in photo), another alumna who no longer lives in New Haven, is the first to acknowledge her irregular attendance record to Sunday mass at St. Michael’s. Still, she holds her alma mater in the highest esteem.
“Even if I go to another church, when I’m here, I’m home,” she said. Admiring the Saint Michael sculpture, she quipped, “That’s the first cop.”
Esposito singled out the construction of I‑91 and I‑95 abutting Wooster Square as one of the driving factors behind the exodus of second-generation immigrants and their children. Now, she said, they come to St. Michael’s only for a baptism, or a funeral.
Colicchio echoed that theory. Interstate 91 tore through the neighborhood, and neighbors gradually moved to the suburbs of Connecticut.
“I have to pass seven Catholic churches just to come [to St. Michael’s],” he told the Independent. “The thing that stops people is the distance. When you have a church right around the corner from your house, you’re less inclined to come back. What can you do?”
Church administration has also experienced some shrinkage. St. Michael’s used to count with three to four priests. Now Colicchio is the only reverend in charge.
The Archdiocese of Hartford, which replaced the understaffed Scalabrini order — the founders of St. Michael’s — and took over the church less than seven years ago, now ordains one or two priests per year. When Colicchio was ordained in 1967, he was one of 18.
The low numbers on either side, within the staff and the congregation, have raised some concerns in the archdiocese. If this trend were to continue, Colicchio explained, it is more likely for St. Michael’s to be linked with another church than to close its doors.
Strides have been taken to forestall such an outcome: suppers, concerts, Easter egg hunts, a $90,000 renovation of the St. Michael’s basement funded by the Knights of Columbus.
For now, survivability is a matter of inspiring loyalty in former and current parishioners, and hoping to procure new ones. The anniversary mass was, above all, a step in that direction — a celebration of 125 years of worship and legacy.
“It’s a way of saying thanks,” Colicchio said. “We’re just trying to say ‘Look, we’re here, we’re doing God’s work here, we’re carrying the traditions of the people who built this church.’”
