When lives of conviction lead to prison: nuns incarcerated for SOA protest share long Christian tradition - Franciscan sisters Gwen and Dorothy Hennessey imprisoned following School of the Americas protest

National Catholic Reporter, Jan 25, 2002

From John the Baptist, who got into trouble when he criticized King Herod for marrying his brother's wife and doing "many other evil things," to the early apostles, who also seemed to have a propensity for offending state and religious authorities, to today's protesters of government policies, getting thrown into prison for acting on one's convictions is a recognizable thread that winds through the whole weave of the Christian story.

In the modern era, those who worked for civil rights, opposed the Vietnam War, took issue with the nuclear weapons buildup or worked against apartheid in South Africa often risked the threat of jail to dramatize a point.

Fr. Carl Kabat, an Oblate priest and anti-nuclear protester who has spent considerable time in prison for his activities, recently said, "The future monasteries of the Catholic church should be the prisons."

Many of those who head to jail today in the United States because of actions that grew out of their religious convictions have an affinity for the life and writings of Dorothy Day (1897-1980), founder of the Catholic Worker movement who also was in and out of prison for her antiwar and pro-worker activities.

Then-Josephite Fr. Philip Berrigan and his brother, Jesuit Fr. Daniel Berrigan, were among the first in the United States to provide the image of priests in prison garb when they were sentenced for burning draft records in 1968 in Catonsville, Md.

Since then, Philip, who eventually left the priesthood, has spent much of his life in prison for acts of civil disobedience in opposition to nuclear weapons and U.S. militarism. NCR correspondent Patrick O'Neill caught up with Berrigan at a panel discussion in Washington, D.C., shortly after Christmas.

Franciscan Srs. Dorothy and Gwen Hennessey, who were sisters before they entered religious life, knew they would probably end up in jail when they decided to cross the line into Fort Benning, Ga., during a protest against the U.S. Army's School of the Americas.

Dorothy, 88, and Gwen, 69, were among 26 men and women who received sentences ranging from two years' probation to a year in prison for their nonviolent protests calling for the closure of the training school for Latin American military officers. Graduates of the school -- now called the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation -- have been involved in human rights abuses throughout Latin America.

Dorothy was sentenced to six months in prison after declining the original sentence she was given: six months of "motherhouse arrest." She said she wanted to receive the same treatment as her codefendents. Gwen was also sentenced to six months in prison.

The Hennessey sisters, who are members of the Franciscan community in Dubuque, Iowa, entered the federal correction institution in Pekin, Ill., July 17. Concern over Dorothy's health precipitated her transfer in August to the Elm Street Residential Facility in Dubuque, where she stayed until Jan. 14. Gwen was released from the Pekin prison the same day.

Excerpts from their prison diaries, sent as letters to friends, follow.

Letters from prison

From Gwen Hennessey

July 18, 2001

After our tearful goodbyes to friends and family, we spent the entire day at admissions -- processing, TB test, prison-issue clothing.

We filled out lots of papers and met counselors. The inmates are so welcoming and tended to our needs.

We were invited to a prayer group at 8:30 p.m. on the huge double basketball court -- 70 women of the 200 showed up.

The night was long and cold with a snore orchestra out of tune.

Rising was at 5:30 a.m., breakfast at 6 and inspection at 7:30. (Our alley got demerits for things on windowsills.)

Our SOA group plans to meet from 7 to 8 a.m. to discuss keeping in contact with the total SOA 26.

Some of our new vocabulary -- all loud and clear over the speaker:

"Last call for main line" (cafeteria).

"Count" at 10 p.m., 12 a.m., 3 a.m., 5 a.m. and 4 p.m. (very serious).

"Stand-up count" (very serious).

None of the officers wears guns. The inmates take over many areas -- laundry, library, kitchen, etc. Now I understand why one of the ex-offenders visiting the Sacred Heart convent in Dubuque said, "I can't take this, the largeness and the spit-shine on the floors -- it takes me back to prison."

From Dorothy Hennessey

July 18

Gwen tells me that I fell asleep with my glasses on last night. The daylong media calls, the glorious candlelight ceremony, the caravan to Pekin, the flashing cameras and the hugs of the final "sending-in" -- all these had been inspiring and exhausting.

We just came back from the nightly circle of prayer, marveling at how the group of women carries on the spontaneous praying each night.

From Gwen

July 19

The early morning "count" with flashlight awakened me. We need to be at breakfast at 6 a.m. if we want coffee and milk for the day. The only other time milk is offered is when the next-door "max for men" is in lockdown. The milk is ours at that time so it doesn't go to waste.