Where’s Fran? – The Official Website of Francis X. Hezel, SJ

Christmas, 2025

With the years goes the memory, we old-timers (or “senior citizens,” if you prefer) might say. So much of what I might have shared with you here has slipped away. But all the better for those of you who are skimming through this catch-up letter. Let me spare you the details. The year has been the usual procession of parish Masses, visits to the hospital, prayers alongside caskets in funeral parlors and homes, handouts to people who said they needed food or bus fare, and all the rest.

I seem to get the jitters whenever I go on-line these days. Who will it be this time, I wonder. Which of my former students has died and left that familiar sinking feeling in my heart as I read through his obituary?

There have been a multitude earlier this year, but in recent weeks three high-profile Xavier High School graduates have passed away. All of them were not just former students who became FSM notables, but they were also good friends.

Last week, Micronesia marked a major regional church event held on Yap, drawing attendees from across the islands. Dickson Tiwelfil, the last remaining Jesuit from the islands, was ordained as a priest before a congregation that nearly filled the large stadium temporarily converted into a church. Local Yapese chiefs attended—some in traditional loincloths—alongside visitors from Palau and other neighboring islands.

Yap. That mysterious state, home to legendary masters of magic and artisans of spells, known for its people who keep to themselves, a population divided between the Yapese and those of the surrounding atolls, who speak completely different languages and observe other customs.

On May 1st, a few dozen of us gathered at Yap Catholic High School to attend the formal opening of the new Micronesian Seminar library. The library, once the pride and joy of the institution after which it is named, contains not just paper documents like books and articles, but a remarkable collection of images (photos and videos) that date back to the 19th century. As a bonus, the library also boasts a collection of music that numbers 20,000 pieces—everything from ancient chants and dance music to modern love songs—all in island languages. You’ll have to forgive me for beating my chest about a library that I regard as the best on Micronesia, anywhere in the world.

When Cuthbert Yiftheg began high school at PATS, he came across as a modest individual from a modest background. Bert, as he was then known, was not from one of the higher strata in Yap, an island where clan determines social status. He was not a stand-out student, perhaps because of his limited educational background. But, long afterwards, the young man was remembered not just for his modesty but his interest in studies. Not only did he always turn in the homework carefully and on time, but he would regularly ask for help from his teachers in the early evening. So often that a teacher might excuse himself from the dinner table a bit early with the side remark that he had to be in his room to help Yiftheg when he made his inevitable visit. It all proved effective for Bert, who graduated near the top of his class.

Thanks to all of you who have sent birthday wishes—by phone, email, and every app known to humankind. It’s a reminder that birthdays aren’t just for counting years; they’re for counting friends. And really, what greater blessing do we get to enjoy than the friends who make life richer? So, thank you for being one of mine.

With my brother, George, and sister-in-law, Sally.

Thank you, Santa Claus, for the excuse to greet old friends again, even if just once a year. Friendship has been a real blessing for me. I just wish I could acknowledge it more often.

This past year brought its share of challenges. On my 85th birthday in January, I awoke to a sharp pain in my knee that made walking nearly impossible. My trip to the hospital, hobbling into the emergency room with a cane, was just an omen of what was to come.

I must have fallen hard when I arose from bed on Monday morning, Sept 30. We could blame it on the wet surface (as I do), or harbor the suspicion that this was a cardiac arrest (as the doctors seemed to believe). In any case, I found myself sprawled on the floor for the next six hours. I just didn’t have the muscle strength to lift myself back on the bed, nor could I reach my cell phone as time passed and the calls increased. Finally, someone opened the door, gasped at the sight of the old priest on the floor, and called the ambulance.

The official blog of Rev. Francis X. Hezel, SJ

Christmas, 2025

Farewell to a Few Old Friends…

Ordination of Dickson Tiwelfil in Yap

Yap, New Home of the MicSem Library

Cuthbert Yiftheg, Modest Minister to the End

Counting Friends and Years

Christmas 2024

From Retreat to Recovery: A Week in the Hospital