Popular St. Benedict pastor accused of rape, fraud removed over $200K secret settlement

— The Archdiocese of Baltimore launched an investigation into Rev. Paschal Morlino after he admitted the payment to The Baltimore Banner

Father Paschal A. Morlino, O.S.B., is a Benedictine monk and priest of Saint Vincent Archabbey, Latrobe, Pennsylvania. He has been pastor of St. Benedict Church, Baltimore, for more than 30 years.

By and

The Archdiocese of Baltimore has dismissed the Rev. Paschal Morlino, the celebrated “urban monk” of Southwest Baltimore who led St. Benedict Church for decades, following the recent disclosure that he paid $200,000 to quietly settle allegations of fraud and sexual assault.Morlino’s abrupt removal as pastor of St. Benedict’s was announced Saturday to parishioners, and it comes amid an investigation by The Baltimore Banner that brought details of the 2018 settlement payment to the attention of archdiocese officials.

“On Thursday when an inquiry was made by The Baltimore Banner, the Archdiocese of Baltimore and the Benedictines were first made aware of a settlement that had been entered into by Benedictine Fr. Paschal Morlino some years ago,” the archdiocese said in a statement. “The Archdiocese immediately engaged in an internal investigation and within 24 hours, a decision was made to remove Fr. Morlino as pastor of Saint Benedict Church.

“He is no longer permitted to celebrate Mass or engage in public ministry in the Archdiocese. Fr. Morlino has returned to his religious community, Saint Vincent Archabbey in Latrobe, Pa. The Archdiocese and Benedictines intend to conduct further investigation.”

Morlino, 85, could not immediately be reached for comment.

The archdiocese’s decision to remove the popular Benedictine monk known as “Father Paschal” brings a stunning end to his 39 years as pastor of St. Benedict. Two days earlier, on Thursday, he granted a wide-ranging, 90-minute interview to The Banner at the church, declaring he had nothing to hide. Morlino confirmed that five years ago he paid $200,000 to the man who accused him of rape but denied that he had assaulted or defrauded the man.

“I just wanted to keep him quiet, to be rid of him, because he was just stirring up trouble,” Morlino said. “My conscience is clear; it’s all stuff that he made up.”

The man who accused Morlino died in April 2020. The Banner does not identify people who say they have been sexually assaulted without their consent.

Morlino has not been charged with a crime.

Morlino was ordained in 1966, and as a young monk outside Pittsburgh founded the Adelphoi house for boys. The nonprofit took in abused, neglected and delinquent youths. Adelphoi has since expanded to include 21 homes and serves 2,900 children and families a year, according to its website.

Around the historic St. Benedict Parish near Carroll Park, Morlino looms even larger. A self-described “Southern boy,” with his Virginia twang, he arrived in Baltimore during the 1980s like a whirlwind.

Morlino counseled sex workers, homeless people and people with addictions in some of the city’s poorest streets. He energized the congregation with his gritty, roll-up-your-sleeves evangelism. Under his leadership, the parish tripled in size, according to the church website. Congregants renamed the church’s block “Paschal’s Way.” They named the parish building the Paschal Center.

Former parishioner Kathy Durm-St. Amant said she used to adore the Benedictine monk like her own dad. But one day a friend told her a secret. The friend had vacationed with Morlino many years before on a cruise.

”He said he went on that cruise, he was in bed. He woke up with Paschal on top of him,” she said.

She encouraged her friend to call a lawyer. After he died in 2020, she found letters exchanged by the attorneys who negotiated his claim. She provided the letters to The Banner.

In one dated Jan. 24, 2018, her friend’s attorney, Joanne Suder, demanded $375,000 to prevent a lawsuit and accused Morlino of forging the man’s signature on bank records. The man had worked for Morlino, fundraising for the church, cooking, cleaning and carrying out errands.

“You stole all of his cash from checks telling him his expenses exceeded the balances of his checks,” Suder wrote.

Suder also accused Morlino of raping her adult client on the cruise in September 2000 and of multiple rapes in the years that followed.

Speaking about the man, Suder wrote, “His physician has opined that your sexual, physical, emotional and fraudulent behavior has caused him such injuries that he may never recover.” She declined to answer questions from The Banner about the matter.

Morlino told The Banner he went on a cruise with the man along with three other friends but he had no sexual contact with the man, either on the cruise or in the years after.

When asked about the alleged fraud, Morlino said the two had an agreement that the man’s paychecks would be deposited into a church account that paid for his health care.

“I took care of his medical insurance; that was the deal,” Morlino said. “He didn’t have any money; he played on my sympathy.”

The man was popular around Southwest Baltimore, Morlino said, and he saw him as an asset to the parish, someone who could help draw together the church and community.

His business dealings with the man went further than most others. Morlino said he paid the tax debt on the man’s home. But their yearslong acquaintance was tumultuous and ended when Morlino dismissed the man from his fundraising and other duties. Morlino said he was stunned to hear the man was accusing him of assault and fraud.

In response to the letter from Suder, the pastor made a counteroffer through his private attorney.

“Although Father Paschal is indeed not a rich person, in conjunction with his family and friends, he has managed to raise $25,000 to try and settle this matter,” wrote Salvatore Anello III, the pastor’s attorney. “There would have to be a release and total Confidentiality Agreement. As you can see whatever we do here, we are in an untenable position since the mere accusation, whether it be true or not, and it is not true, can end his ministry at St. Benedicts.”

Anello could not immediately be reached for comment Saturday. The sides settled in February 2018 for $200,000, according to documents reviewed by The Banner and confirmed by the pastor.

“It wasn’t true,” Morlino told The Banner of the allegations against him, “but how can you prove that in court?”

The man’s friend, Durm-St. Amant, was not bound by the nondisclosure terms.

She notified church leaders about sexual assault allegations involving Morlino in August 2018 using the archdiocese’s online portal, and said she later met with two church officials — Monsignor James Hannon, director of the division of clergy personnel, and Jerri Burkhardt, director of the office of child and youth protection. But she feels ignored today.

“What did he say? They’re going to meet with [Morlino] and counsel him?” Durm-St. Amant said, speaking about Hannon. “Not, ‘We’re going to shut him down.’ Not, ‘We’re going to take him out of service.’ That he needs counseling.”

Durm-St. Amant’s complaint alleged that a second man had been assaulted by Morlino on a different cruise. This man had died by 2018. Asked Saturday about its response to the complaint and allegations of two victims, the archdiocese addressed only the deceased man, saying Morlino denied assaulting this individual and that because the man was dead church officials could not corroborate the allegation.

Allegations against Morlino have not previously been disclosed. His name does not appear in the recent attorney general’s report on the history of sex abuse within the Archdiocese of Baltimore.

The 456-page report identified 158 priests accused of the “sexual abuse” and “physical torture” of more than 600 victims over the past 80 years. The findings led lawmakers to reform Maryland’s statute of limitations related to claims over old acts abuse.

The new law was expected to bring a flood of lawsuits against the archdiocese. On the eve of the Child Victims Act, the Archdiocese of Baltimore filed for bankruptcy.

Complete Article HERE!

Church abuse victim silenced by legal tactics watches it happen again

— As more states ease path for civil justice, institutions that harbored attackers deploy tactics to limit liability and silence survivors

Nicholas Finio, 9, in a sports photo taken before years of alleged abuse by a priest in his Harrisburg, Pa., church.


He knew “luck” wasn’t the right word the moment he said it.

But Nicholas Finio was trying to describe the way everything lined up perfectly for the reckoning he’d spent decades working toward.

He filed a lawsuit in time, he worked with an experienced legal team and a good therapist. He was ready to confront the defrocked priest whose persistent sexual abuse had turned his years as a blond-haired altar boy delighted to be chosen for the solemn duties at Mass into a nightmare. The terror of the abuse lived inside him for 15 years, it followed him through high school and college, into his relationships and his marriage. It even made him think about suicide.

“It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life; it was terrifying,” said Finio, now 34 and an assistant research professor in the School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation at the University of Maryland. “The first time I ever told a lawyer about it I was dripping with sweat and my hands were shaking.”

And then?


The Pennsylvania Archdiocese where Finio had been an altar boy reached for a shrewd and now-familiar playbook the Catholic Church has been deploying to muzzle survivors: declaring bankruptcy.

That meant the case that Finio had filed in 2018, when he was within the statute of limitations, that had been building for two years of discovery and paperwork, was folded into a bankruptcy hearing.

“The one piece of power I still had — the ability to speak to the public, in the courtroom — was taken away from me,” Finio wrote to me this week. “I did not have that ability as an abused child, and they took it away from me again as an adult survivor.

“The church, with its immense power, cash assets to pay lawyers, and actuarial science,” Finio wrote, “chose to relegate my story and those of dozens of other survivors to [E]xcel spreadsheets, paragraphs in emails, and [W]ord documents.”

It was as if “they had the cheat code,” he said.

>And that’s exactly what the Archdiocese of Baltimore did, filing for bankruptcy Sept. 29 — two days before Maryland’s Child Victims Act became state law. The law was intended to open the door for hundreds of survivors to sue the church for its part in thousands of horrific sexual acts committed against children, and for church leaders’ complicity in enabling priests and covering up the abuse.

He is speaking out now because other people are about to endure the “enraging” process that he went through.

“The bankruptcy judge didn’t talk to us,” he said. “There’s no getting interviewed by anybody — you’re just telling your story to the insurance companies and everybody sits around the table for a couple of years.”

Finio was part of the small committee of survivors who work with bankruptcy lawyers in these cases. They are seen by the court as “creditors.” More than two dozen U.S. dioceses have deployed the same tactic, according to the Catholic News Agency. They call it a “restructuring” and say — from their gilded and historic buildings — that the move is crucial to their survival.

“I had to deal with a lot of anger in the last three years,” he said. “Not really having any recourse, any ability to act on everything that has held me back for so long.”

Survivors, the lawyers who deal with these cases said, aren’t in it for the money. They want to be heard. They want the rest of the world to understand the adults’ complicity, the calculated coverups that kept them tortured for years.

“Survivors don’t want to get processed,” said Benjamin Andreozzi, who was Finio’s lawyer, has represented victims in New York and New Jersey and who is now representing about 20 survivors of abuse in the Archdiocese of Baltimore.

When Finio saw all of this playing out in Baltimore last week, he decided to speak publicly for the first time, forgoing the John Doe anonymity of his lawsuit. He wants the church, the priest and other survivors to hear his voice.

The priest who Finio says abused him, John G. Allen, 79, is living in an apartment in Harrisburg, according to public records. He did not respond to my email seeking information. His only public comment on record about the allegations against him was a guilty plea in 2020 to two counts each of indecent assault against a child under 13, indecent assault of a child under 16 and corruption of minors — all crimes involving altar boys, according to media reports.

The Dauphin County Court judge gave him five years of probation and life on the sex offender registry, where he submits his photos, address and a description of his tattoos (a Chinese Capricorn, a moon, a star and a four-leaf clover, all on his left thigh.) He submitted his most recent photo to the registry in August.

Ordained in 1970, Allen has a long history of sexual assaults and incidents, according to the grand jury report by the Pennsylvania attorney general.

Each time something happened, the church knew.

The grand jury report documents how the church knew Allen was arrested for soliciting an undercover police officer. They heard from boys who said he paid them for sex acts. Strip poker. Nights in a hotel. Backroom invitations before services. And a bishop got the memo about Allen’s alleged confession — at a Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting — that he was obsessed with young boys, the report states.

And through all that, Allen was moved around nine parishes across central Pennsylvania

It was in 1999 that Finio was a 10-year-old altar boy at St. Margaret Mary Alacoque parish in Penbrook, dreading every time Allen was the priest celebrating Mass.

Finio said the priest groped and molested him dozens of times over the three years he served at the altar. He told no one at the time.

When Finio sued in 2018, the church offered a small settlement. He wanted a trial.

Then, the bankruptcy shut it down.

He wants the Baltimore survivors to know they are not alone, and that although they’re in for a long and frustrating process, they should persevere.

“Don’t stop fighting,” he tells them. For other survivors. For today’s children. For themselves.

Complete Article HERE!

Baltimore Archdiocese, Bracing for More Abuse Claims, Files for Bankruptcy

— The nation’s oldest Catholic archdiocese made the move days before the start of a new law removing the statute of limitations on lawsuits from abuse victims.

The Catholic Archdiocese of Baltimore

By Ruth Graham

The archdiocese of Baltimore, the oldest in the United States, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy on Friday, two days before a new state law goes into effect allowing child sexual abuse victims to sue organizations no matter how long ago the abuse took place.

Archbishop William E. Lori attributed the filing directly to the law’s effect on the archdiocese, which is facing “a great number of lawsuits” that were previously prohibited by state law, he said in a letter to the archdiocese on Friday.

Filing for bankruptcy, Archbishop Lori said, is “the best path forward to compensate equitably all victim-survivors, given the archdiocese’s limited financial resources, which would have otherwise been exhausted on litigation.”

The bankruptcy filing stops all lawsuits against the archdiocese, which could have been filed starting at 12:01 a.m. on Sunday. Instead, a judge will oversee the reorganization of the archdiocese, ultimately setting a deadline for victims to file their claims in bankruptcy court.

The archdiocese of Baltimore is the latest of more than a dozen dioceses and archdioceses in the United States to currently be in bankruptcy proceedings. That’s in addition to 19 dioceses that have emerged from bankruptcy, according to a list maintained by Marie T. Reilly, a professor at Penn State Law.

A vast majority of documented abuses in Catholic churches, schools and institutions took place decades ago, but some states have reopened opportunities for victims to bring civil claims that would have otherwise been barred because they happened too long ago.

The Archdiocese of San Francisco filed for bankruptcy in August, saying that it faced more than 500 lawsuits under a state law passed in 2019 that extended the statute of limitations for civil claims.

Maryland’s Child Victims Act was signed by Gov. Wes Moore in April. The state’s Catholic Conference, the lobbying arm for the church, opposed the bill when it was being debated, calling it unconstitutional and unfair.

The bill’s final passage was timed to the release of a major report from the Maryland attorney general that revealed how clergy members from across the archdiocese had abused hundreds of children and teenagers over six decades.

The report documented “pervasive and persistent abuse” by clergy members and others in the archdiocese, and a church hierarchy that systematically failed to investigate and restrict abusers’ access to children.

The new law eliminates the statute of limitations for future child sex abuse lawsuits, setting it apart from other states that have opened limited “lookback windows” for victims to sue over past abuse.

But the bankruptcy filing means that victims will now have to file their claims by a certain date, effectively limiting future lawsuits.

Filing for bankruptcy just days before the law goes into effect — and more than five months after it was signed — “is yet another abuse” for victims, said Robert Jenner, a lawyer based in Baltimore who represents victims.

“Our clients have gotten their hopes up, they’ve been energized, they’ve been preparing for these suits,” Mr. Jenner said, noting that preparation is often extremely painful for victims. “All of that re-triggering could have been avoided by a timely filing,” he said.

The archdiocese has argued that the law could result in extremely large settlements or jury awards for the first handful of victims, draining the institution’s resources and preventing others from receiving fair compensation.

But critics say that objection doesn’t hold water, since the law caps rewards for noneconomic losses in each case at $1.5 million, a relatively low amount that would not drain resources immediately.

“Their argument is disingenuous and it’s an effort to avoid accountability,” said Philip Federico, a lawyer based in Baltimore who is working with Mr. Jenner on cases against the archdiocese and other institutions.

With the Chapter 11 filing, payouts to creditors — including victims suing for financial compensation — would be managed by a bankruptcy judge. Victims would not be able to present their experiences of abuse before a jury. Church officials would not be cross-examined by lawyers in open court.

Baltimore has symbolic stature in the American Catholic Church because of its history and large Catholic population. For the country’s first few decades, the entire American Catholic Church formally existed within the diocese. Its current leader, Archbishop Lori, was elected last year as vice president of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops.

Complete Article HERE!

Case against notorious California priest could be 1st in new wave of sexual abuse trials

Father Eleuterio Ramos

By Sean Emery

A childhood sexual abuse case involving a priest who was one of Orange County’s most notorious predators is expected to be among the first of a massive wave of lawsuits filed against Roman Catholic dioceses statewide that are on track to go to trial next year.

More than fifteen years after a string of dioceses — include Orange County and Los Angeles — agreed to pay hundreds of millions related to hundreds of claims of sexual abuse by the clergy, an even larger wave of litigation is on the horizon due to a state law that temporarily lifted the statute of limitations for such cases, opening a three-year window to allow now-adult survivors to file lawsuits related to decades-old abuse.

Roughly 2,000 Southern California childhood sexual assault cases allegedly involving the Catholic church were filed in Southern California during the three-year window, including roughly 250 against the Orange County Diocese, according to attorney Morgan Stewart, whose high-profile Orange County-based firm — Manly, Stewart & Finaldi — is among those representing the numerous plaintiffs.

Archbishop JosÈ H. Gomez of Los Angeles

The lawsuits tied to Orange and Los Angeles counties have been consolidated and assigned to a Los Angeles judge. One of the lawsuits brought by Stewart and his firm is the first to be allowed by the judge to move forward for trial in Los Angeles, the attorney said, setting the stage for an expected trial early next year.

The case involves Father Eleuterio Ramos, who before his death admitted to sexually assaulting more than two dozen boys during a decades-long career that included stops in multiple parishes across Orange County, as well as Father Siegfried Widera, who at the time of his death was one of the most wanted sex crime fugitives in North America.

The plaintiff in the lawsuit said he was molested by Ramos beginning at the age of 5 when he was a minor parishioner at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church in Santa Ana around 1979 or 1980, and later sexually abused by Widera around 1984 and 1985 when he was about 10-years-old.

“It is possibly the worst case (the diocese) probably could have gotten out the door,” Stewart said of Ramos. “He had no discretion. He didn’t stop himself. Nobody stopped him.”

Bishop of Orange, Kevin Vann

Stewart says he now also has new evidence bolstering the long-held contention by victims’ attorneys that church leaders at the time actively knew about the sexual abuse of minors and covered it up.

In a sworn statement filed with the court, a now-retired alcohol counselor who worked at a treatment center for clergy members in Massachusetts in the 1970s and 1980s recalled the center admitting Father Ramos for treatment after Diocese of Orange leaders referred him for treatment related to alcoholism and “sexual impulses related to sexual abuse of minors.” Diocese leaders overruled the counselor’s recommendation that Ramos not be placed back into the ministry, the former counselor said in her statement.

“I learned it was common practice at that time for the Bishops who referred us priests who abused minors to move those priests into other parishes or churches upon their return,” the counselor said in her statement. “This is what occurred with Father Ramos, despite my concerns that I communicated about his potential to re-offend.”

Stewart alleged that the sole concern for church leaders at the time was “to hide these guys and send them out of the jurisdiction of law enforcement.”

“Where is the concern for the kids?” Stewart said. “That is going to inflame a jury beyond belief.”

Jarryd Gonzales, a spokesman for the Diocese of Orange, said the organization “remains steadfast in its commitment to eradicating the abuse of children and vulnerable adults and to providing a voice and support to those who have suffered.” He noted that clergy, employees and volunteers are now required to undergo fingerprinting, background checks and “recurring safe environment training.”

He added, “The Diocese of Orange deeply regrets any past incidences of sexual abuse. Those words are backed up by actions: the Diocese has undertaken extensive and diligent efforts for more than 20 years to safeguard children and vulnerable adults and prevent future abuse.”

In response to the allegations raised in the lawsuit, Gonzales said the church as a general rule doesn’t comment on pending litigation, but noted that discovery — the exchanging of information between the attorneys about the witnesses and evidence expected to be presented at trial — in the case is in the “very early stages.”

“The Diocese intends to let the facts uncovered in discovery guide its response to this lawsuit,” Gonzales said. “And as to an alleged cover-up: the plaintiff’s allegations — which date to 1979 — were never brought to the attention of the Diocese (or law enforcement) prior to the filing of the lawsuit in 2020.”

The previous wave of childhood sexual abuse lawsuits ended with settlements prior to jury trials, including a then-record $100 million settlement by the Diocese of Orange covering 90 cases in 2004 followed by the Los Angeles Archdiocese settling 508 cases for $660 million in 2007. In Orange County, the settlement came with apologies to the victims by church leaders.

The new wave of lawsuits has already led several dioceses in California to either file for bankruptcy or contemplate doing so, including the Diocese of Santa Rosa, the Diocese of Oakland and the San Francisco Archdiocese. The Archdiocese of Los Angeles and the Diocese of Orange have not indicated any plans to pursue bankruptcy.

Complete Article HERE!

Aymond: Catholic parishes, schools must help shoulder cost of archdiocese sex abuse claims

— Leader of Archdiocese of New Orleans says lawyers underestimated how much settling abuse cases would cost

Archbishop Gregory Aymond receives ashes before giving them to others for Ash Wednesday services at St. Louis Cathedral in the French Quarter of New Orleans on Feb. 22, 2023.


More than three years after the Archdiocese of New Orleans filed for bankruptcy court protection amid mounting allegations of child sex abuse by local clergy, the financial cost to the country’s second-oldest archdiocese is coming into focus.

In a letter Friday to the clergy, religious and laity, Archbishop Gregory Aymond said for the first time that individual parishes, schools and charities will be asked to help cover the rising costs of abuse claims, which total nearly 500 to date. That number has grown dramatically over the course of the church’s bankruptcy.

“When we filed Chapter 11 reorganization in 2020, I was advised by legal counsel that the Chapter 11 proceedings would only impact our administrative offices and not the apostolates – parishes, schools and ministries,” Aymond said in his letter, which was posted to the archdiocese website. “Unfortunately, this is no longer the case.”

When the archdiocese filed for bankruptcy, Aymond sent the Vatican a letter estimating out-of-pocket expenses would be less than $7.5 million. In fact, attorneys’ fees alone have already exceeded $26 million.

It’s unclear how much the archdiocese will seek from parishes and schools, which are not technically debtors in the bankruptcy case and have a separate attorney representing them. The letter says only: “We now know there must be a contribution from the apostolates. We do not yet know what that total contribution will be or what will be asked of each entity.”

In its most recent financial statement, the archdiocese listed total assets of some $580 million and liabilities of more than $454 million, including more than $121 million worth of real estate.

But the estimated value of those 1,400 pieces of property is considered low because it is based on historic market value, or the price the archdiocese paid for the property, and does not include the value of land, buildings and other assets owned by the some 200 church apostolates.

An attorney representing the apostolates, Douglas Draper, said “the letter represents what is going to happen and what the apostolates are going to be asked to do, and there is nothing else to say about it.”

Author Jason Berry, who has documented decades of clergy sex abuse by the Catholic church, said Aymond’s letter suggests the church was given poor advice by its lawyers.

“It’s a moral disaster that stems from putting your eggs in the basket of firms like Jones Walker,” Berry said. “Aymond admits in the letter that counsel told him three years ago that it would only have an impact on the administration. Now he’s saying the lawyers were wrong.”

Since filing for bankruptcy court protection in May 2020, Jones Walker has been paid more than $13 million, according to the most recent court filings. That’s more than half the $25 million or so the archdiocese has paid overall to law firms, consultants, financial and real-estate experts helping it navigate the reorganization process.

The firm did not immediately respond to a message seeking comment.

A growing debt

In his letter, Aymond attributed the change in financial strategy to the archdiocese’s growing liability in the case. When the church filed for Chapter 11, some 30 lawsuits alleging abuse had been filed against individual clergy members and the archdiocese as a whole.

In the years that followed, the number of claims — many dating back decades and alleging abuse against Catholic priests, nuns, brothers and deacons — swelled to 450.

After a new state law passed in 2021 and enacted in 2022 extended the window for claims to be filed, the number grew to nearly 500.

Earlier this week, the case took a dramatic turn, when Orleans Parish District Attorney Jason Williams announced criminal charges against 91-year-old former priest Lawrence Hecker, who was indicted on charges of rape and kidnapping dating back to the 1970s. Hecker is just the second clergyman in New Orleans to be charged for crimes allegedly committed before the 2002 sex-abuse scandal spread across the globe.

In his letter Friday, Aymond said part of the church’s new strategy will involve seeking a court ruling to protect individual parishes and apostolates from being sued, once the bankruptcy case is settled, over past abuses.

“This will help preserve the assets of parishes, schools and ministries against past claims of abuse,” he said.

The letter also says that the archdiocese is actively seeking to pay off the bulk of claims through real estate sales — both of properties owned outright by the archdiocese and by those owned by parishes, schools and charitable ministries.

“Soaring insurance rates and costly maintenance have impacted our ability to maintain appropriately the over 1,400 pieces of property [the church owns] and remain good stewards of our resources,” he said. “This work will be a very important factor to determine contributions asked of the apostolates as well.”

Late last month, the archdiocese asked the bankruptcy court for permission to begin marketing for sale seven pieces of property that, if sold for asking price, would fetch more than $10 million. Aymond’s letter today suggests many more will follow.

“I remain committed to the majority of the settlement being paid with the assets of the Archdiocese and our insurers,” the letter says. “We are working through a court-approved process to sell real estate to fund the settlement and streamline our real estate holdings.”

He concludes, “Through these efforts and by the grace of God, we will emerge better prepared for the future and be an even strong Catholic family.”

Complete Article HERE!