Ex-Spook Does His Best To Help The Holy Spirit
No, Walt Jackson isn’t going undercover. He gave that up years ago when he retired from the Central Intelligence Agency.
He’s just packing to leave Coeur d’Alene, where he’s the deacon at St. Pius X Roman Catholic Church, for Wallace, where he’ll help revitalize Silver Valley Catholicism.
“It’s time to move,” he says, looking at his wife, Janice, for agreement. “If we stayed here much longer, I’d run down. I need new challenges.”
As if it weren’t enough to raise 10 children and work as a CIA communications expert in Cyprus as it became an independent country, Florida during the Bay of Pigs and in Bolivia and Washington, D.C.
“I think the path we’ve taken has been wonderful,” he says.
By the time he decided to join the clergy, Walt looked the part. His hair and beard had turned a saintly white.
He never strayed far from the church in which he was raised. His attendance dropped after he joined the U.S. Navy in 1947. It picked up again with marriage, children and CIA work. The church was a common denominator for the Jacksons wherever they traveled.
Walt’s participation grew from obligatory to meaningful during Vatican II in the mid-1960s.
“It was a great time of increased lay involvement,” he says. “I liked the direction.”
He retired from the CIA in 1977, trained and was ordained as a deacon in 1981 to “read, feed, preach, teach, marry, bury and baptize.” But for Walt the job was much more. It was his chance to push for social justice as he believes the church should.
When St. Pius needed a deacon in 1989, Walt got the job.
Coeur d’Alene’s St. Pius was built during Vatican II. It was the progressive post Walt wanted. He and Janice opened a homeless shelter and nourished social programs through the church.
“It was glorious,” he says.
He knew Shoshone County needed help when he saw Wallace’s Catholic rectory empty a few months ago. He’ll move in with Janice July 1.
“God is always inviting us to be more than what we are,” he says. “Or what we have been.”
Body parts
The package in Gail Somer’s mailbox in Coeur d’Alene last month looked suspiciously like a finger. Closer inspection showed it was a baby carrot. It was the latest gag-mailing between Gail and her sister in Boise.
Gail had traced her crooked pinky and drew 19 personalities for it, including a drunk and a lover. Then she mailed the drawings to her sister.
Her sister sent the carrot because it was the spittin’ image of Pinky. Gail took photos of her foot one year, captioned them and bound them in a book for her sister.
Her sister wants a sequel, but Gail says, “I’m loathe to put myself through the humiliation of photographing my foot in various public and private settings again, some of which took enormous courage and/or agility.”
For the birds
Coeur d’Alene’s Janet Javorka knows someone is looking out for her son, Mike, when she’s not around. He took off to photograph raptors Memorial Day weekend along the Lochsa River, stepped out of his camper and the step collapsed, ripping his leg open.
Sylvia and Leroy Hyatt from Lewiston happened by, scooped Mike into their car and drove him 80 miles to Orofino for emergency care. They stayed with Mike, who’s 37, drove him back to his car, then drove home to Lewiston to call Mike’s wife in Kalispell.
Mike needed 80 stitches, but he’ll be fine thanks to the Hyatts.
Twice is nice
Folks in Coolin like parades so much, they run theirs down a dead-end street where it turns and heads back for a rerun. What odd things does your community do? Chuckle out a few for Cynthia Taggart, “Close to Home,” 608 Northwest Blvd., Suite 200, Coeur d’Alene, ID 83814; fax to 765-7149; or call 765-7128.
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo