Alone in the Crowd

Early in my career I was associated with the Port Chaplain in Philadelphia. Father Tom came out of the coal regions of Pennsylvania and his first assignment as a curate was to an Italian parish in South Philadelphia. This culture was foreign to him at first. At funerals he would hasten to the funeral home to pray over the body and as the cortege proceeded several city blocks to the church it would be preceded by a pick up brass band - something right out of New Orleans - but certainly not out of the coal regions.
 He later was assigned to a waterfront parish but still in South Philly where he became "spiritual director" to a string band club on "two street" - they of the Mummers Association. Once a year he would also bless the family pets. He enjoyed a cigar and an occasional cool beverage and late in the evening, with his collar off, he would rise to sing in his mellow baritone something like the following:
-I'm all alone in the crowd, all by myself in the crowd -
I used to know - just where I stood - now they're wearing high hats in the old neighborhood.
Sweethearts go walking in pairs - you'd think that the sidewalks were theirs -
Old friends seem to be - total strangers to me - for I'm all alone in the crowd.

The irony was that this gregarious clergyman was never alone. And he left his mark on the waterfront.
tjs
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