Man witnessed jumping from Denver blaze says God was present

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Elías Venegas, 53, the man who was witnessed hanging from the third floor trying to escape the raging fire that rapidly consumed the construction site at 18th and Emerson on Wed., March 7, says he was not alone. He has no broken bones and suffered no organ damage or concussion. He’s simply sore.

“I felt that God was there and that he acted. He was protecting me,” Venegas told the Denver Catholic. “That’s how he manifests himself in our lives.”

Venegas was the person farthest away from the exit, as he was on the roof of the five-story building when the fire broke out.

“I finished eating [on the roof] and told one of my co-workers I had to call my wife,” he said. “So, I walked away from them, who were next to the ladder, to the opposite side of the roof. And as I was walking back, I saw smoke coming up one side of the building, and yelled to warn them. If I hadn’t walked that way to call my wife, I don’t know what would have happened.”

He remembers the next few seconds confusedly, but he recalls running behind his colleagues down to the third floor, where authorities believe the fire originated. There, he encountered a thick cloud of black smoke, so much that he lost sight of his co-workers and could barely see the ladder leading to the second floor. It was almost completely dark.

“I decided not to go down. Something was telling me not to go through there,” Venegas said.

Instead, he ran to the first opening he saw, a balcony door that had wood studs running across it for safety. He got to the outside of the building and tried to swing himself to the second floor, but as he was hanging, he realized it was impossible.

There he was photographed by a witness, just as he was getting ready let go.

Elías Venegas was on the roof of the five-story building when the fire broke out and only had a few seconds to escape. (Photo provided)

“My arms got tired and my hands started burning. It was too hot,” Venegas recalled. “I looked down and thought, ‘I can’t jump, it’s too high!’

“I then remember letting go, and as I was letting go, I felt a cool breeze, as if someone had blown at my face. And I didn’t feel anything else. I don’t remember falling or landing. The next thing I remember is people around me asking me if I was OK. I got up confused and dizzy, but my only clear thought was that I had to call my wife.”

His co-workers, who had barely made it out safely, didn’t see him come out of the building and thought he hadn’t made it, so when they saw him on the street, they received him with much joy.

Venegas was taken to the hospital that afternoon and the following day for a general check-up, x-rays and other tests, but there was nothing wrong with him.

“I’m just a bit sore,” Venegas said with a smile on his face. “Everyone was amazed, even the doctors, that I had no broken bones or other serious injuries. The nurse, the security officer and my supervisor said it was a miracle that nothing happened to me jumping from that height.”

Venegas, who is a catechist at St. Pius X Parish in Aurora and a volunteer in other archdiocesan organizations such as the San Pablo School of Evangelization for the Hispanic community with his wife, Raquel, is mostly grateful for being alive.

“God didn’t want me there [in Heaven] because I have yet to finish my mission here on earth,” Venegas said. “It saddens me to think that two other workers couldn’t escape. I will be praying for them and their families.”

“I feel very grateful for this new opportunity that God has given me,” he said. “We proclaim a living God and I was able to experience that. He’s not just something that happened 2,000 years ago. He still acts in our present world. I’ve seen it and so have many other people.”

(Featured image from Denver Fire Department Facebook)

COMING UP: Opinion: There is cause for hope amid dire reports of clergy sexual abuse of minors

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By Vincent Carroll

This Dec. 13, 2019 opinion column was originally published by the Denver Post.

When will it end, many Catholics must wearily wonder. And not only Catholics. Anyone who reads or listens to the news must wonder when the Catholic church sex scandals will ever be over.

But in one major sense, the crisis already has passed and what we’re witnessing — and will continue to witness for years — is the aftermath.

To see what I mean, go to Appendix 4 in the report on sexual abuse of minors by clergy in Colorado issued in October by investigators led by former U.S. Attorney Bob Troyer. There’s a bar graph highlighting the “number of victims by decade the abuse or misconduct began.” Towering above all other decades for the archdiocese of Denver is the bar for the 1960s, representing 74 victims. In second place is the 1970s with 25 victims, and the 1950s is third with 14. The 1990s had 11 victims and the 1980s three.

As the report observes, “Roman Catholic clergy child sex abuse in Colorado peaked in the 1960s and appears to have declined since. In fact, the last of the Colorado child sex abuse incidents we saw in the files were 1 in July 1990 and 4 in May 1998.”

In other words, nearly 70 percent of all the abuse documented in the attorney general’s report within the Denver archdiocese occurred a half-century or more ago.

Denver’s history differs somewhat from the national experience, but not wildly so. Researchers at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice concluded in 2004 after examining the national data on accusations of sexual abuse by Catholic clergy between 1950 and 2002 that “more abuse occurred in the 1970s than any other decade.” The 1960s were also atrocious years for Catholic youth and so was the first half or so of the 1980s.

It appears that accusations in the years since have held to the same chronological profile. Mark Gray, a survey researcher at the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate at Georgetown University, reported recently that CARA has analyzed 8,694 accusations of abuse made between 2004 and 2017 (compared to 10,667 earlier allegations studied by John Jay researchers). The result: The distribution of cases is “nearly identical to the distribution of cases, over time, in John Jay’s results.”

In other words, a large majority of the accusations of abuse that have surfaced in this century are also dated to the horrible era of 1960 to 1985.

This pattern even holds for incidents in last year’s Pennsylvania grand jury report, although news coverage often left the impression that it recounted a fresh flood of new incidents. The report’s scope and details were certainly new and devastating, but most (not all) of the incidents and perpetrators were old (or dead). Those accused of abuse in the Pennsylvania report, for example, were on average “ordained as priests in 1961,” according to Gray.

Given this context, it’s hardly surprising that “the most prolific clergy child sex abuser in Colorado history,” according to the special investigator’s report, namely Father Harold Robert White, was also ordained in 1961.  His depredations “continued for at least 21 years,” the heyday of sexual abuse and church complacency, during which time he “sexually abused at least 63 children.”

Chilling.

I am perfectly aware that the Colorado investigation hardly exhausts the number of victims of clergy sexual abuse. It covers diocesan priests but not those who served in religious orders. Records are likely incomplete and some perhaps destroyed. And the actual number of victims certainly exceeds the number who have come forward.

There is also the question of a reporting time lag — the fact that victims often don’t muster the courage to come forward for years. But if this had been a major factor in the reduced number of incidents after 1985 at the time of John Jay College’s 2004 report, that number would surely have seen a disproportionate surge by now. And yet it has not.

The authors of the state investigation emphasize that they are unable to reliably say that “no clergy child sex abuse has occurred in Colorado since 1998,” and warn against concluding that clergy child sexual abuse is “solved” given ongoing weaknesses they outline regarding how the church handles allegations.

Their caution is understandable given the church’s history in the past century (in the report’s words) of “silence, self-protection and secrecy empowered by euphemism,” and their recommendations to strengthen the diocese’s procedures are for the most part on point. But it is also true that child sexual abuse will never be “solved” in the sense of it being eradicated — not in religious denominations, and not in schools, daycare centers, scout troops, youth sports, and juvenile social service and detention facilities, to cite just some of the venues that predators unfortunately exploit and where an accounting for the lax standards of the past has not been undertaken.

John Jay College researchers also released a followup study in 2011 in which they noted, “the available evidence suggests that sexual abuse in institutional settings . . .  is a serious and underestimated problem, although it is substantially understudied.” Meanwhile, “no other institution has undertaken a public study of sexual abuse and, as a result, there are no comparable data to those collected and reported by the Catholic Church.”

Early this month, Bishop Richard J. Malone resigned from the Buffalo Diocese over gross mishandling of sexual abuse claims. He likely won’t be the last. Meanwhile, Catholics still await the Vatican’s promised explanation for how defrocked former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, who allegedly preyed on seminarians for decades, could have been promoted time and again. Is there any credible defense?

So the bad news hasn’t stopped. But behavior in the priestly trenches actually is much improved, and that is surely cause for hope.

Email Vincent Carroll at [email protected]