NOTE: Enjoy this excerpt from The American Daily Reader, by CatholicVote president Brian Burch and Emily Stimpson Chapman. To order the complete volume, visit the CatholicVote store today!
“Catholic,” wrote James Joyce, “means ‘Here comes everybody.’”
Nevertheless, in 1935, much of America was surprised to learn that “everybody” included the notorious mobster Dutch Schultz.
Born Arthur Flegenheimer to German-Jewish immigrants in the Bronx, New York, Schultz terrorized the country during the last years of Prohibition and the first years of the Great Depression. Rising in less than a decade from bootlegger to crime boss, Schultz’s ability to turn an illegal profit was surpassed only by his savagery. One victim he hung by a meat hook. Another he shot in the mouth over lunch and then cut out his heart with a knife.
“Dutch Schultz did that murder just as casually as if he were picking his teeth,” said one observer.
That was the Dutch Schultz America knew. And in the last year of his life, as he plotted the assassination of U.S. Attorney Thomas E. Dewey, he didn’t seem inclined to change. But as he plotted, Schultz also read all he could about the Catholic Church.
Months earlier, Schultz inexplicably dodged a conviction for tax evasion. He decided Jesus had spared him, and the reading was his way of learning more about the Jewish Carpenter. No one who knew Schultz believed he’d become Catholic—possibly not even Schultz believed it. But when the gangster found himself mortally wounded in a shoot-out on the night of October 23, 1935, he immediately called for a Catholic priest.
Father Cornelius McInerney answered the call. He arrived at the hospital to find Schultz lucid but weak. At Schultz’s request, the priest heard his confession, baptized him, and administered Last Rites. McInerney then remained by Schultz’s side until he passed away.
News of the conversion leaked out days later when Schultz received a Catholic funeral. Horrified that the Church would allow the killer into its fold, the public demanded an explanation.
The only one McInerney gave was to remind people that three crosses stood on Calvary, and on one hung a penitent thief destined for paradise.
