I shuddered at the thought of flying to Rhode Island last Friday.

A ferocious, cold spell  blanketed New England. Roads were impassable, people were advised to stay indoors, and airline flights were shaky, to say the least. But duty called, and I set off for Palm Beach International Airport on Friday, trusting in God’s mighty Providence to get me there and to bring me back home safely the following Monday. 

St. John Vianney Church Interior, Cumberland, RI.

The first sign of “trouble” was that my flight was delayed over and over again when I got to the Airport. This turned out to be a good thing for I could wait out some of the bad weather, staying-put in Florida, while a most helpful flight assistant re-routed my flights to Providence.   

Finally, my plane took off for Washington, the first leg of the journey. At Washington Reagan, crowds of travelers were gathered around flight monitors, listening to announcements about the next available flights to their respective destinations. I joined in and sat down beside a large, happy group of wanderers, determined to have fun amidst the chaos. We roared with joy whenever a flight connection was announced, and high-fived each other before boarding our planes. One lady asked me for a prayer before boarding her plane.

I asked her, tentatively, after I prayed with her: “How did you know I was a priest?”

She replied rather, naturally:  “I didn’t!” 

The Rhode Island State House on the hill is the capitol of Rhode Island.

My flight was announced after four hours  of waiting. But, in reality, it was five hours because the plane was busy de-icing on the runway for one hour more before taking flight.

It was midnight when I got to Providence. Too late to pick up my rental car, too risky anyway to drive to Cumberland. So, I spent the night in a Holiday Inn Express. 

Closer view of the Rhode Island State House.

The following morning, I got my rental car. The worst was over, and the snow and ice were beginning to thaw. I made it, safe and sound. The sun’s rays pierced the window of the car, filling it with God’s warmth as I drove to Cumberland.

My weekend at St. John Vianney parish in Cumberland was a joy. There were four inter-generational masses (consisting of adults and youngsters), all packed to the gills. The liturgical music was outstanding. Deacon Paul was responsible for the choir ministry which had a different choir at every mass. The music was lively but reverent throughout all the masses. The people were outgoing, welcoming, happy to be there which made me happy. I met a woman from my home place in Ireland at one mass, and a former parishioner from Sacred Heart, Okeechobee, at another. It’s a small world after all.

I left Cumberland early on Monday morning, and drove to Providence, getting there at 10:00a.m. My return flight was in the afternoon and I had some spare time to see Providence all by myself.

Providence is one of the oldest cities in the U. S. It was founded in 1636 by Roger Williams who fled there, in exile, from the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Williams was a Baptist theologian and he founded, in Providence, the oldest Baptist Church in the country. It is still there. Williams gave Providence its illustrious name in honor of God’s Providence that led him there. It was aptly named.

The Hays Library at Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island.

Like Rome, Providence is built on seven hills. I drove to two of them to visit the Capitol and Brown University. At Brown, I enjoyed a morning walk in the Quad, a sylvan, grassy area, surrounded by distinctive University buildings. I visited the Brown library, noted for works on early American history, and the much larger Hays library of the University.

Providence, not only has seven hills, it also has seven institutions of learning. This has transformed the economic culture of Providence from manufacturing businesses to institutions of learning which now account for most of its economy. 

Closer view of The Hays Library, Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island.

As I left Brown University and headed down the hill into the city’s busy streets, I decided to drive to the Airport. I scrambled for my iPhone to use the GPS, only to discover I left it at the Hays library. I did not know how to get back without the GPS.

As I turned a corner, I asked a man for directions to Brown. “If you let me into the passenger seat, I can lead you there,” he said, adding: “Its too difficult to explain from here.”

He looked harmless enough, so I let him in.

Once inside, he said: “The problem with people today is they don’t realize there are more good people than bad.”

“Thanks for being good,” I said, as we drove around a bit and then up the hill to Brown. I parked my car, retrieved my glasses, and dropped my new friend off.

He got out, and extended his hand through the window, saying, “It was an honor.”

—Fr. Hugh Duffy