During 1908, the Wright brothers made their first flight over Kitty Hawk, Henry Ford came out with his ubiquitous Motel T, and in Watts, California - one year after it was incorporated as a separate city and named after the town's railroad station - Holy Redeemer Church was founded on Compton Avenue at 101st Street.

Fourteen years later, Archbishop John Cantwell invited three Capuchin Franciscan Friars to take over the little wood-framed church, which they renamed St. Lawrence of Brindisi, after a 17th-century Capuchin saint known for his scholarly works, inspiring preaching and spontaneous miracles. In 1924, the Sisters of Notre Dame started an elementary school.

Last weekend the urban parish with more than 3,000 registered families and 40 different ministries celebrated its 100th anniversary against all odds - including the August 1965 Watts Riots, which claimed 34 lives and destroyed nearly 1,000 establishments; a dramatic demographic population shift from African American to Hispanic; and the 1992 devastating city-wide civil unrest - with a street festival and outdoor Mass celebrated by Cardinal Roger Mahony that drew an estimated 2,000 people.

"Here in St. Lawrence of Brindisi parish over these hundred years, you have met all kinds of different challenges and changes of population, too," Cardinal Mahony told the congregants spilling out into the asphalt parking lot and school yard from a huge white tent, during the early afternoon Sept. 28 liturgy concelebrated by a dozen Capuchin and diocesan priests. "The population has changed various times over the life of this parish. And now your parish is primarily Hispanic and African American, and that is really fantastic.

"Because as I look out here today and see so many different faces, so many different people, well, this is what heaven is going to look like, where we're all together. And I think that we have a special responsibility as disciples of Jesus, as members of the Catholic community to show how we work together regardless of background, race, language, color and all those other things."

'Peaceful place'
A day before the tent liturgy, Jimmy Healey was directing cars into the reserved parking lot as families and individuals streamed into the multi-cultural street festival on closed-off Compton Blvd. The 49-year-old single man was born in Watts and baptized at St. Lawrence of Brindisi. Today he's practically a full-time volunteer at the parish, helping out with the food pantry, Black and Brown Evangelization Ministry, Knights of Peter Claver and security.

"I'm glad the church has been here in Watts that long," he said, taking a break in the shade. "I like it here a whole lot. I hope it goes another hundred years, but I doubt if I'll be here to see it. It's just a nice peaceful place. I went through depression for awhile and didn't do nothing. Then one day Father Peter, the pastor, brought me back, and by helping people I feel a lot better.

"But there's something about this place that brings people back," Healey added. "People go away for years and years. And when they come back, they say they feel at home. I feel at home here. It's meant my life."

Jacqueline Monteilh, attending the Saturday festival with daughter Renee, was a parishioner from 1965 to three years ago, when she moved away and reluctantly joined another parish. But she faithfully comes back every Monday and Thursday for bingo, and sometimes also makes Sunday Mass. Moreover, she's still a card-carrying member of St. Lawrence's Altar and Rosary Society.

"I have wonderful memories about this parish," she said. "Because being divorced I really wasn't financially able to keep my eight kids in parochial school. And I'll never forget, Sister Mary Francell, the principal, called and said, 'Mrs. Monteilh, where are your kids?' And I started crying. She said, 'Bring those kids up here tomorrow. We've got uniforms. We've got books. We've got everything for them.' And they all graduated from St. Lawrence."

Diego Moralez, another festival volunteer, had more recent memories. The 15-year-old sophomore at Loyola High School attended St. Lawrence of Brindisi School from kindergarten through eighth grade. This year he studies honors English, chemistry and geometry; AP world history; plus Latin and drawing four to five hours on weeknights and wants to be a veterinarian because he loves animals.

"I remember going to church with Father Peter and how he was always saying the same thing over and over again," Diego recalled with a half-smile. "I remember that he would always tell us that if we want a mansion in the sky we have to 'send up the material' before.

"Of course, I thought he meant like if we want to go to heaven and have fun there, we have to do good deeds on earth. He would tell that to us every Friday at Mass. And that's stayed with me."

Black and Brown Ministry
Father Peter Banks said the two-day centennial anniversary was the "best experience" of Hispanics and African Americans mixing that he's ever experienced in his 20 years as associate pastor and pastor of St. Lawrence of Brindisi. He pointed out to a visitor how there was no tension or animosity during the Saturday festival. In fact, the atmosphere reminded him of a sunny day at Disneyland.

"This is the thing that I've longed to see here in our community," he said. "That crossing of the bridges and understanding and spending time together, sharing food, listening to mixed music - just having fun. That's why we started our Black and Black Ministry."

In late 1973, when the 27-year-old country boy came to Watts from Ireland shortly after being ordained, he was shell-shocked and feeling melancholy. His first night in Southern California he went into the church to pray, and in the stillness God told him this was where he wanted the young Franciscan to be.

From 1982 to 1991, he worked as house director, then director of novices and vocations before moving on to be provincial of the Capuchin's Western American Province for six years. But in 1998, after an evening of soul searching about why he became a priest, Father Banks returned to St. Lawrence as its 22nd pastor.

"For me it's a place of incredible love, and people who have survived amazing suffering and pain," he reported, looking around at new parish hall and restrooms. "And anybody who's survived suffering and pain without cynicism become beautiful people. I've seen children here who have suffered more in their short life than I have in my full lifetime. So I feel it's a privilege to be mixing among them. They're out saints."