Finding God in death is such a great mystery & challenge

By Kevin Canessa Jr.
Publisher

JERSEY CITY —

You’ll forgive me for what I am about to say and write. But it happens to me every time someone is senselessly murdered. And like clockwork, it happened to me again, today, as I watched online the funeral for Jersey City Police Officer Melvin Santiago.

It was the homily (sermon) where it really hit me — as it often does. And it hit hard when I heard the Rev. Kevin Carter, chaplain to the Jersey City Police Department, say it.

The Rev. Kevin Carter, delivering Santiago’s homily.

Speaking to Santiago’s family, Carter said:

“The heart of  God is with you now and for years to come. The heart of the church is with you. The heart of the department is with you. Melvin is with God, now, in complete joy — and he’s alive and well with him.”

It’s that last part I struggle with so often. And it always happens in homilies from Catholic priests.

Now rightfully, Catholics see funerals as a celebration of the deceased’s life, not death. But I find it so hard to believe it when we’re asked to believe that a dead loved one is with God — and that God will be there and present for the family.

And you probably guessed where I am going now — and it begs the question every time: If God is with Melvin now that he’s dead — and God is with Melvin’s family in their most trying days, where, may I ask, was God when Melvin faced his executor … simply by exiting a radio car?

Where was God to keep Melvin safe when a man lay in wait to ambush him?

Where was God to keep the executioner the hell away from Melvin or any other forms of innocent life?

Where was God when this murderous thug decided to go to a Walgreens to lure cops there, only to kill one of them?

Steven Fulop, mayor of Jersey City, before the funeral Mass began.

Where was God when another life, the murderer, was taken away, as well?

I struggle with this so often. It reminds me of the time right after Sept. 11, 2001. So many people — including those who were lax — returned to church and to God after the attacks.

“While there will be many who ask, ‘Where was God on 9/11 while close to 3,000 people died,’ we say, instead, ‘God was right there to ensure 27,000 others escaped those buildings,’” priests would say in homilies in the days, weeks and even months after the attacks. “God was right there, extending his hand to those people — and to the first responders, to get them out of the building safely.”

At first, hearing those sobering words was comforting. Because it is indeed true that on Sept. 11, 2001, so many more people got out than were trapped inside the Twin Towers. But there also a comes a time — call it a crisis of faith, or whatever it is you wish to call it — where those words ring very hollow and very inefficiently.

Because there comes a time where I personally asked myself, “Oh really? God was there to get 27,000 people out? Well, how did he decide who the 3,000 were who didn’t get out? Why didn’t he extend his hands to all the people in the buildings? Why didn’t he use his loving kindness to ensure the terrorists didn’t do what they did in the first place?

Santiago’s immediate family leaving the church.

This is a crisis I am afraid I will face forever — especially when a 23-year-old police officer, in the prime of his young life — is taken away so violently.

I understand it was Carter’s job to offer comfort. I understand it’s important to SAY that God is there with the family.

But I can’t, even on days when my faith is at its highest levels, continue to listen to people say God is with you, family of Melvin Santiago, when God was absolutely nowhere to be found at 4 a.m. Sunday.

This is a crisis of faith, indeed, for me. And I often wonder how many others out there — including those reading this — feel the same way. How do we call upon the same God in times of grief and expect he’s listening, when we’re in moments of despair in the first place?

We’ll never quite know, that is, of course, unless we do get to some form of an after-life … heaven or wherever it is.

I so want to believe God is here with me right now as I write this, thinking, “There you go, again, Kevin, doubting me like an everyday Thomas.” I really do want to believe that.

I really do want to believe God is looking over Melvin’s mom, step-dad, brother and step-sister (whom I just found out yesterday, I know personally, as her former teacher).

But you see, the thing is, I can’t right now. Maybe you can’t either.

And it all leaves me with the most basic of questions, one we find ourselves asking so often at times like these.

Why?

A very touching moment

Officer Santiago was a Yankees fan, but he was also a fan of the Philadelphia Eagles. As the recessional commenced at St. Aloysius Church today, on West Side Avenue, the cantor sang “On Eagles Wings.”

It’s a common Catholic song for funerals, but it was ever poignant for the Eagles’ fan, Santiago, as he was taken to his final resting place.

As his step-dad recessed down the aisle at the beautiful church, someone (not sure who it was) extended his hands with a green and white jersey.

It was a Philadelphia Eagles jersey.

And the name on the back.

Santiago.

All while “On Eagles Wings” played magnificently.

Maybe God was there after all.

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It’s much more than fatherless homes causing hate for cops on the streets of the inner cities in America

By KEVIN CANESSA Jr.
Publisher

JERSEY CITY, N.J. —

This is one of those topics that is next to impossible to talk about. And yet, former News 12 NJ reporter Sean Bergin did it — and it in essence cost him his job.

Following the shooting death of Jersey City Police Officer Melvin Santiago, Bergin equated a community’s disdain for the police to a generation of Black men growing up in fatherless homes.

He hit a nerve with the public.

At first, he was suspended. Then he was demoted to a point where he’d only be able to make $300 a week. Then, on his own, the reporter resigned his post at News 12 and has since spoken out (we’ll get to why he quit later).

But this also hit a nerve with me, personally.

On The Hill, there is a lot of this -- burnt out properties.

I grew up in a fatherless home. And I think I turned out OK — for now, at least.

There’s a staggering statistic that 1 of every 3 children in this country lives in a single-parent household, and a majority of those households are fatherless, not motherless.

Experts say that leads children to having “disdain for authority,” as one conservative pundit said on Fox News the other day.

And he may be right.

But these comments are blanket statements. They suggest every child who grows up in a fatherless household will wind up hating cops. They suggest Black kids who don’t have dads are worse off, immediately, because they don’t have fathers. They suggest every child is worse off for not having a dad.

Oh really?

Let me share my own fatherless-household story.

My parents divorced around 1978 when I was just 4. In reality, I don’t recall what life was like having two parents. I was just too young when my father was around. And even then, he was too busy going out, drinking and living it up without giving any help to my mother.

Many years later, my father, with whom I share a first name, spent years living on the streets or in storage units. He is bi-polar and rarely, if ever, realizes how much medication can help him.

And boarded-up buildings next to empty lots.

He finally get help in 2011 from the Veteran’s Administration — he’s a Navy vet (was a cook) — and it seemed he was getting his life in order.

A few months ago, I got a Google alert — he was in jail. It was on a warrant … not sure what the warrant was for.

So the cycle came full circle — the dad I don’t know and haven’t seen since I was 6 — that was 1981 — went from being a heavy drinker who didn’t care to help my mom. He’s the father who just decided, in 1985, to stop paying the child support he was ordered to pay until Sept. 21, 1992. He’s the father who hasn’t been around in 32 years. He’s the bi-polar dad who generally refuses to take care of himself. He’s the dad just coming off a stint in a Louisiana jail.

And experts will tell me I am worse off because this man wasn’t in my life?

I think it’s pretty clear that there are cases — likely plenty of them — where single-parent households are much better and much stronger than households where there is a useless father in it. So often, the experts forget there are plenty of dysfunctional two-parent households where the dad is there, but invisible.

So I have a very hard time believing that a blanket statement that says fatherless households are to blame for the Black community’s disdain for the police.

Think of the guy who murdered Officer Santiago. He lay in wait to kill police. He was believed to be involved in another murder. If he had children, do you suppose the kids would be better or worse were he involved in the children’s lives?

And closed businesses.

I’d say if such children existed, they’d be much better off without him.

So what does this all mean? Especially for the Black community?

Let’s say this.

I once taught at St. Anthony High School in Jersey City, from 1998 to 2002. When I’d occasionally drop kids off at home — many lived in a neighborhood nicknamed “The Hill,” that is also known as Greenville — they’d always say some variation of this when I’d get to their homes.

“After you drop us off, get the hell out of here — and run red lights if you have to.”

These were wonderful kids saying this. Yeah, some of them came from broken homes, too. They knew how unsafe “The Hill” was, and wanted me to use unthinkable caution when I was in the neighborhood driving alone.

And I think of those 500 or so kids I knew over the years. I miss them. In many cases, I’ve kept in touch with them. Most live wonderfully successful lives now. Some are even cops in Jersey City. And again, many lived in homes where dad wasn’t there — and where mom did it all.

And no, they don’t all have disdain for the police.

So what does this, now, mean?

It means we’re afraid, as a society, to discuss why this violence really continues in the inner-cities, and it’s not because of fatherless homes, it’s because these kids are born into circumstances no one would dare ask for — and the opportunities for things to get better do not exist.

Thugs run the streets up on “The Hill.” When it’s all you’ve ever been exposed to, how do you break the cycle? Some have, thankfully. But not everyone has that chance.

And homes fortified by bars -- on multiple floors.

In Jersey City, there are apartments | condos that sell for $2 million, with the most beautiful views available (of Manhattan) available anywhere in the country. It’s rather safe there. It’s also rather safe in the north of the city, the Heights and Western Slope, where it’s actually desirable a place to live.

And yet just a couple miles away — travel along Kennedy Boulevard to see the stark difference — rests “The Hill,” where the people are forgotten, where there are few police patrols, where there are no foot patrols, where there are few bike patrols — where the police presence is minimal and the drug-trade presence is everywhere.

So much has been done to improve Downtown Jersey City — the police’s East District. And so little has been done for the South and West districts, where crime is at its worst.

The people have been forgotten by the city’s leader for decades, whether it was Mayor Jerry McCann, Bret Schundler, Glenn Cunningham (RIP), Jerramiah Healy and now, Steven Fulop.

Fulop ran on a platform that he’d increase police presence in the neighborhoods that need it most — and yet, it hasn’t happened to date. There are 820 cops on the books in Jersey City, the second-largest city in New Jersey, with a population of 255,000, just 22,000 fewer than the state’s largest, Newark.

Newark, by contrast, has 1,004 cops on the job, and there are plans to increase that number to 1,400 -- and even that is not enough.

There must be more cops in Jersey City. They have to be on foot. They have to be on bikes.

And they must not be feared as they often are. They must be seen as partners in solving the city’s problems.

A dear friend of mine gave me tremendous insight as to why the mistrust is so great. And it’s psychologically based.

Think of this.

All Jersey City police cars are mostly black.

The cops — save for the superior officers — all wear very dark, navy-blue uniform from head to toe.

The sirens blare and are intimidating.

The commonality here?

It’s all dark — and there’s a notion that this darkness creates a distinct separation between the community and police.

Give them white shirts. Make the cars less intimidating. Create a system where the community sees the police as partners and not as the enemy — and perhaps things change some.

Even if you aren’t speeding, doesn’t this sight still get your nerves up?

Have you ever been driving along, knowing you’ve done nothing wrong — and boom! There’s a cop hiding on the side of the road, sitting there waiting behind a tree or something else that causes the car to be shielded or hidden. Tell me your stomach hasn’t dropped every time that has happened — even knowing you weren’t speeding and didn’t do a thing wrong!

Tell me whenever you need to speak to a cop, it doesn’t cause you some sort of angst or anxiety?

It doesn’t require one to live in a bad neighborhood for this to happen. The bottom line is that no matter how hard departments have tried — especially beginning in the 1990s when Community-Oriented Policing programs began in earnest — cops are never seen as partners. They’re always seen as the antagonist. They’re never seen as approachable.

Take all of this — and add it to bad neighborhoods — and you’ve got what we have in Jersey City right now … a community that does not trust the police, a community where a cop killer’s wife says she wishes her dead husband had taken our more cops in his wake.

Jersey City Mayor Steve Fulop

Until leaders step up and make significant changes, this will always exist. It matters not one but whether a family is led by a mom, a dad, or a mom and dad. It matters not one bit whether the father is present or on the streets dealing drugs.

Mayor Steve Fulop has his hands full with this most awful crime. He will either make or break his mayoralty (perhaps unfairly) by how he handles the aftermath.

I hope and pray, more than I can express properly in words, that his leadership results in significant change here. I want nothing more than to see “The Hill” get better.

I won’t be holding my breath though.

And no father or lack thereof could change my thinking on that.

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News 12’s Sean Bergin was suspended, had pay docked, then quit after remarks go viral; he tells Fox News why he quit

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Brief video tribute for Melvin Santiago from JCTV

Nicely done.


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Things never change in Jersey City because animal, low-life thugs are allowed to run the damn place

By Kevin Canessa Jr.
Publisher

It’s my City.

I grew up there.

I am  old enough to know what the place was like when we left in 1985 and I was 11. And now, Jersey City, my place of birth, the place I love, the spot I visit whenever I come back from Florida to visit, is controlled by savage animals. It’s overridden with disgraceful human beings who can only settle things by killing their enemies. It’s no longer a place I am proud to call my hometown.

The latest, the death of 23-year-old Police Officer Melvin Santiago, who by all accounts was a wonderful young man who wanted to make a difference in his community. He was on the job for just six months.

It all happened this morning at around 4 a.m. when he was called to the 24-hour Walgreens at Kennedy Boulevard and Communipaw Avenue, in a neighborhood most wouldn’t dare venture out into after the sun goes down.

The report: a robbery in progress. As he got out of the police car he was a passenger in, the suspect, whose name we will never use, shot him in the head, killing him. He becomes the 33rd Jersey City police officer to die in the line of duty.

According to some reports, Santiago asked to work the toughest neighborhoods in Jersey City after he finished the police academy. Imagine that. While he might have asked to be assigned to an easier place — like the Heights or Downtown, he instead asked — on purpose — to be assigned to the district that includes Communipaw and the Boulevard.

That’s how much he wanted to make a difference.

And it cost him his life.

What perhaps makes this story even more disturbing is that the suspect is alleged to have beaten an armed security officer before he fired at Santiago. He is alleged to have stolen his gun. And then, in as brazen a way as possible, he did nothing else until police arrived.

He did what he did, that savage animal, to draw police there to engage them in a gun battle.

And in as barbaric an act as is humanly possible, the moment Santiago opened his cruiser door to ensure everyone else’s safety, the suspect opened fire.

He never stood a chance.

What’s incredibly upsetting here is that no matter who leads the city — Jerry Healy, Steve Fulop, whomever — the results of crime in the city remain the same. Innocent people, many of whom are not police officers, are losing their lives simply because they live in Jersey City and have no place else to go or turn to.

They are dying because they take their trash out and bullets fly.

They are dying because they live in neighborhoods where the police don’t rule things, but instead, they live in neighborhoods that are flooded with drug-dealing low-lives who have no regard for human life.

They are dying because they want to try to pretend to not be petrified of where they live.

And no matter what any leader does, or tries, it never, ever gets better.

A Google Maps image of the Walgreens where Melvin Santiago was murdered.

It never gets better because the same residents who lose family members violently are unwilling and unable to open their mouths when they see a crime committed and know who committed the crime. They simply cannot because if they do, they’ll be next.

It never gets better because the city is grossly under-patrolled. There are only 800 or so officers on the streets of the state’s second-largest city.

It never gets better because leadership will not do all that it takes to ensure the streets ARE patrolled properly — by radio cars, and foot-patrol units, and bicycle units.

It never gets better because no one seems to be willing to grow the balls to make it better.

The mayor can say all he wants that he wants to be tough on crime. And yet a year into his first term, nothing has improved.

The residents can cry out every single day about the conditions in Jersey City — and they can do it until they’re blue in the face — but until they’re willing to speak out and help to put away the thugs who control this city, nothing will improve.

Steve Fulop, mayor of Jersey City

I never expect the day will come, in my lifetime, that things will be better on “The Hill” as it’s known, in Jersey City.  Because I have no faith in the leaders. And I have even less faith the people will step it up and start talking.

I want to be wrong. I so want to be wrong. I want the city I love so much to return to how it was decades ago, when my grandmother and grandfather saw it fit to raise a family of seven there, without a second thought that maybe it would be better elsewhere.

I want the killing to stop.

But I can’t hold my breath while waiting, because every time it happens — like it did with Marc Dinardo or Domenick Infantes before Santiago — I always say I hope and pray this is the last … and it never is.

I woke this morning and learned that Melvin Santiago was violently taken from this world. It shook me then — and it still has me sick to my stomach. He didn’t need to die. Nope. Not one bit. But he did.

And that’s because Jersey City is run and controlled by savage animals.

And this time, I can’t say I hope this never happens again.

I know, not too far from now, it will.

And it will again and again and again.

And again.

Rest in peace, Police Officer Melvin Santiago. You will be forever missed, even by those who never knew you.

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