The Crime of Father McBride (Cleveland Gay Bar "looks like the seminary on Saturday night now...")

Scene Magazine ^ | August 6, 2003 | KEVIN HOFFMAN

[317y]

On May 22, 2002, Burkhart [a gay Cleveland detective] met McBride [a gay Cleveland priest] for dinner at Snickers Tavern, a gay-friendly restaurant on West 76th Street. Unbeknownst to McBride, Burkhart was wearing a wire. Not only would it play a major role in the case; it would also shed light on the secret life of a gay priest.

Burkhart and McBride dined on crab cakes and chatted lightly. After dinner, McBride turned the conversation to the recent Catholic Church scandal. He hoped that, when it was all over, the church would recognize that priests are sexual beings too -- and that some are gay.

"Back in the 1960s, would you have ever come to a place like this?" Burkhart asked. "I mean, in this town, where you were working?"

"Probably not, no," McBride said. "Realistically, in 1960, no."

"And in certain places it looks like the seminary on Saturday night now," Burkhart joked.

"Yeah, that really is how it is," McBride said.

They compared notes on seeing clergy in gay bars. Then Burkhart stammered as he asked McBride a personal question: "So, whenever you had sex . . . were you bound to go to confession and confess it before you said Mass, or . . .?"

"Well, you were supposed to, yes," McBride said.

"Do you think all these priests do?"

"No," McBride said. "I think they changed their minds and decided it's not a sin."

After a long monologue on sex and the Catholic church, McBride seemed ready to wrap up the discussion. "Now we have to continue these conversations, and you'll have to come up to Chautauqua and we could -- "

"Well, one of these days, maybe you could talk me into that," Burkhart interjected, then brought the conversation to the issue at hand: "But I was really glad you called me, because I needed to talk to you anyway. I don't know if Bob has talked to you yet, it's, ahem, really unfortunate . . . I don't know how to tell you this, but . . . you guys used to go over to a place called Marshall McCarron's . . ."

"I know that I went over there one time," McBride said. "He said that the food was good and it was cheap. It was cheap, but I didn't think it was all that good."

Burkhart laughed. Then he turned serious again. He told McBride that the sheriff's department was investigating charges of underaged prostitution at the bar. "And . . . you know, some people have mentioned your name."

McBride seemed to panic. "Well . . . I recall . . . that night we were there . . . Bob and I . . . We were talking about boats, because we have boats."

"Okay, okay. That wasn't that long ago you were there either, was it?" Burkhart asked.

McBride explained that a kid he met at McCarron's was interested in boats. McBride had a boat in New York and invited the kid to see it. The boy's name was Dave.

"Okay," Burkhart said. "He never approached you in the bar or . . . never?"

"I never . . ." McBride stammered. "I'm probably too old. I'm 75."

"He never came up and offered sex for money, or anything of that nature?" Burkhart asked.

"Not to me, he didn't," McBride said.

"To other people, did he?"

McBride coughed. "That time frame," he said, coughing again. "I'm trying to think back. I was there with Shoup . . . I know Shoup told me later that the place was raided for drugs and everything, and I said, 'Shoup, what kind of place are you taking me to?' I mean, my God!"

Burkhart laughed.

"I was just going for a decent meal," McBride said.

"Yeah," Burkhart said.

"I mean, I need this like a hole in the head," McBride said.

"Well," Burkhart said.

"He got so bored with the whole place that I never did see him again," McBride said, meaning David.

Burkhart asked McBride what he and David had talked about on the ride to New York.

"Well, he told me what a terrible life he had, and he was apparently in reform school and he was in and out of . . . foster homes . . . and things like that. I did feel sorry for him though, you know?" McBride said, adding that David had told him he wanted to work with computers, and that he seemed bored during their trip.

"Well, we have sort of a different story," Burkhart said. "And . . . it's not good. You know how old he is?"

"He said he was 18," McBride said. "He told me that he was born in . . . '83, or something like that."

"He's not," Burkhart said.

"Huh," McBride said. "Nobody told me that."

"Bob Shoup was approached at Marshall McCarron's, and . . . he was requested if he would give money for sex."

"Ohhh," McBride said.

"And you were there at the time," Burkhart said. "You went up to New York with a 17-year-old and crossed state lines. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I know. My God! I can see that."

"It could only get worse, if you want me to go on."

"Well, I mean, what can I do? Anything?" McBride asked desperately.

"I like you," Burkhart said. "I will not let anything happen to you, and . . . all I can do is promise, put my hand on a Bible, and I think you already know what I mean and what I'm saying. But we are going to need a statement from you as to what happened at Marshall McCarron's . . . Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," McBride said.

Burkhart mentioned that he had taken Shoup's statement and believed most of it to be truthful. Then he brought home the gravity of McBride's predicament.

"Okay, if you go offer somebody under the age of 18 money for sex, it's a felony. Okay? It's a very serious matter, okay? You don't want to be embarrassed. You don't want to embarrass St. Barnabas," Burkhart said, referring to the church where McBride served as senior pastor.

"Mmm-hmm," McBride said.

"And all I'm asking you to do is do what Bob Shoup did, and you gotta trust somebody, and I think you already trust me."

"I do trust you," McBride said. "I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

Burkhart told McBride he would have to make a statement that he was offered sex for money at McCarron's. "You know damn well that there was prostitution going on in there," Burkhart said.

"Oh God, yeah," McBride said. "I mean, Shoup said . . . he had told me a couple times." He looked ill.

"I don't want you to go and have a heart attack or something," Burkhart said. "It's not worth it."

"I wish I hadn't paid any attention to him," McBride said, referring to David.

"Trust me, would you?"

"I will trust you. My God! I trust you."

"Okay, but we need the truth. There were kids in there. We know that. Those kids were soliciting people for sex. Did you . . . did you actually offer him money for sex, or was it just a trip?"

"It was just a trip. In fact, I paid him $20 for driving me up and down."

Burkhart offered a non sequitur: "It's that term 'hustler,' huh?"

"Huh?" McBride asked.

"The term 'hustler,' huh?"

"Ohhh," McBride said.

"Yeah."

"Oh God," McBride said. "You're awfully kind, I mean . . . " He laughed nervously. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me before."

"Did you buy him anything else while you were there?"

"He wanted to go to the mall."

"Okay."

"He wanted to go to the mall. And he wanted to buy one of these horrible rap records, you know? I bought him that . . . I was gonna buy him dinner that night, but he was in a godawful hurry to get back to Cleveland, so . . . "

"Did you notice him use any drugs when he was with you?"

"No! I didn't notice anything."

"That may have been why he was in such a hurry to get back."

"It was apparent that he didn't enjoy it," McBride said.

"He didn't enjoy what?" Burkhart asked.

"Seeing the boats and stuff, you know? He acted like he was bored with it all . . . "

"You guys went over to see your relatives?"

"Yeah . . . I stopped by to see my niece . . . but we were in and outta there . . . And he says I had sex with him?"

"He what?" Burkhart asked.

"He said I had sex with him?"

"I can't let you know what he said directly. That would be unprofessional."

"Uh-huh," McBride said.

"Forgetting about the Clinton technicalities, what did you guys do?"

"You mean as far as sex?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm not very sexy, it's sad to say. And ah . . . he did grab me."

"Like grabbed you where . . . in the genitals?"

"Yeah, but he didn't get any reaction out of it." McBride coughed. "I think maybe that's when he just gave up on me."

Burkhart again reminded McBride of the seriousness of the situation, then asked, "So you're saying what, he masturbated you?"

"He tried to, but I . . . I just wasn't . . . "

"So what did he do? He unzipped your pants . . . "

"Yeah."

"He did?"

"And then you paid him for that?"

"He wanted to get paid, and I says, 'Uh, you know, we just came up for . . . to see boats and things, and I was happy you drove, but -- ' I says, 'I'm not attracted to you.' And after that he sort of just ignored me."

"So he didn't really get you off then?"

"No."

"He tried, though?"

"He did. I guess if you know . . . "

"And did you initiate that or he initiate it?"

"Yeah, he did, he started it, and I was . . . um . . . I was very surprised."

"Was it like with his hand, or was he initiating with his mouth, or what?"

"Hand." McBride made a pained noise.

"Don't look like that," Burkhart said. "You'll be fine. And don't go home and have a heart attack."

They talked some more, then Burkhart mused aloud: "All these different versions of stories."

"What can I say?" McBride said. "I can only say what I remembered."

"Your family gave you up, I guess," Burkhart said.

"How do you mean?"

"He would of never known that you were a priest until they called you 'Father Dan.'"

McBride said that was true.

"Ever watch Columbo?" Burkhart said. "It's always some little thing, isn't it?"

McBride moaned.

"You gonna sleep OK tonight?"

"I'm gonna put great trust in you," McBride said.

McBride paid the check and they left Snickers. As Burkhart walked McBride to his car, the lieutenant told McBride, "I've got a hell of a day tomorrow morning." Then McBride drove off.

[317y]

This is an excerpt. To read the entire revolting thing, go to:

http://www.clevescene.com/issues/2003-08-06/feature.html/1/index.html

[madprof98]

This is from the conclusion of the article:

Indeed, no evidence was ever revealed to suggest that McBride had sexually abused any of the youngsters placed in his charge. McBride seems, to the contrary, much as Bob Shoup had described him: a frail, pitiful old man, who had lived in the closet most of his life and who, in the twilight of his years, tried to recapture his lost youth by sleeping with a 17-year-old prostitute.

I suspect this sort of behavior was characteristic of most of the "pedophile priests" who have been implicated in the scandal, though some were no doubt much more cynical and far more aggressive than McBride. It's truly sad that he had so little faith, even in his declining years.

A good article, worth reading in its entirety. Thanks for posting it.

[Alex Murphy]

"I think they changed their minds and decided it's not a sin."

Kind of says it all, doesn't it?

[317y]

"I think they changed their minds and decided it's not a sin."

Kind of says it all, doesn't it?

The abuse crisis summed up in one simple sentence.

[Salvation]

I saw "Dan" for a first name here?

Hmmmmm.

[317y]

This is also notable, if not repulsive, from the original article. (Remember, Burkhart is a Cleveland detective):

The den-like bar was packed, as it often was on Sunday afternoons, with gay men unwinding after their weekly bowling outing. Burkhart squeezed through the crowd and sidled up to the bar. Waiting for his beer, he overheard a pale, white-haired man tell another patron, "There is nothing built like a 15-year-old boy." The man continued to talk in strikingly vivid terms about his appreciation for boys, mentioning that he had recently taken one out on his boat.

Burkhart didn't think much of it. He often heard this kind of loose talk at gay bars -- especially when gymnasts were on TV. It wasn't much different from straight men lusting after Britney Spears.

---

[Dajjal]

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