Your Story Hour

Aunt Nikki: Hey, everyone. Come on. Your Story Hour's on.

Uncle Jon: Welcome to Your Story Hour. I'm Uncle Jon.

Aunt Nikki: And I'm Aunt Nikki, and we're here to bring you today's inspiring story.

Uncle Jon: Uncle Jon, today's story is about the life of an Irish Catholic priest, Father Edward Flanagan, who started a home for boys which eventually became known as Boys Town, an entire village run by boys.

Aunt Nikki: How unusual, Aunt Nikki. Father Flanagan wanted to help homeless and wayward boys. He's known for saying, "There's no such thing as a bad boy."

Uncle Jon: Sounds like Father Flanagan believed each person is special, just like we do.

Aunt Nikki: Mm-hmm. We love all you boys and girls so much, and we love sharing stories with you. So let's listen as Aunt Carole tells us the story called "No Such Thing as a Bad Boy."

Aunt Carole: Edward Joseph Flanagan was born on July 13th, 1886, in the town of Leabeg, Ireland. The Flanagan family was large and happy, but Eddie, like all boys, sometimes got into trouble. One day after getting into a bit of mischief, his father gave him a stern talking to.

Papa: Eddie!

Eddie: What, Papa?

Papa: Mr. O'Connor saw you in his orchard trying to steal apples. Come now, what do you have to say for yourself, lad?

Eddie: I'm sorry, Papa. But I didn't steal an apple. I was caught before I could pick one.

Papa: Eddie!

Eddie: I'll never do it again. I promise I won't.

Papa: Ah, very well. I know you're a boy of your word. Well, come on. We must herd the cows in before it gets dark.

Aunt Carole: Eddie followed his father to the pasture and they began herding the cows into the barn as they did every night.

Papa: Move along now!

Eddie: Why do the cows scatter everywhere?

Papa: Cows pay little attention when they're grazing, Eddie. Shoo! Get!

Eddie: It's such trouble rounding them up. Oh, look there. The one's over by the orchard. I'll go get him, Papa. Get! Get! Shoo! Oh no, the cow's running straight for the mud hole. Stop! Bad cow! You wicked cow!

Papa: Cows don't know any better, Eddie. They're not wicked. There's no such thing as a bad cow.

Aunt Carole: Eddie took his father's words to heart. As the years passed, he attended Summerhill College in Sligo, Ireland. His older brother, Patrick, became a priest and relocated to America, where he was assigned a parish in Nebraska.

Eddie dreamed of following in his brother's footsteps and also entering the ministry. He studied diligently, and when he was 18, Eddie graduated with high honors. Happily, he returned to Leabeg, eager to hear about his sister Nelly's recent trip to the United States. Nelly's tales entertained the whole family that night during dinner.

Nelly: New York's full of new things and interesting people. You'd like it, Eddie.

Eddie: Maybe so, but Nelly, Ireland's also full of interesting things, like my favorite dish, potatoes.

Papa: Speaking of potatoes, would you pass me some more, please, Nora, my dear?

Mama: Here you are.

Papa: Thank you. I'm certain they have potatoes in New York, son.

Nelly: Oh, indeed. Papa's right. America has everything. Oh, you should just see the stores.

Mama: Sounds delightful, Nelly.

Nelly: It is, Mama. Oh, but still, the city slums are dreadful. Hungry children run loose in the streets.

Eddie: I hate seeing miserable children. Someday someone needs to help them.

Nelly: What about you?

Eddie: What?

Nelly: I'm planning to live in Nebraska, you know, keeping house for Patrick. Eddie, you could travel with me to America, finish your studies, and maybe see what you could do to help.

Eddie: True, Nelly, I could. Papa, Mama, what do you think?

Mama: We'd miss you terribly, son.

Papa: That we would. But America has much to offer.

Nelly: It's settled then. Eddie's coming with me to America!

Aunt Carole: In August 1904, Eddie and Nelly arrived in New York. It was just as exciting and just as heartbreaking as Nelly had described. As Eddie pressed his way through the thick crowds, he spotted some scruffy boys quarreling in the street.

Guest (Male): Hey, lay off me! I'm the leader. Get out of my way, or else I'll hit you again.

Eddie: Look at those filthy, scraggly boys. They're shoving each other around simply to pick a leader for their gang. Someday I must help boys such as these.

Aunt Carole: With newfound fervor, Eddie studied at Mount Saint Mary's Seminary in Maryland, and in 1906 he graduated with his bachelor's degree, the youngest in his class. To further prepare himself for priesthood, Eddie took extra classes at another seminary. Then, on the day after Christmas of 1908, Eddie caught pneumonia.

Doctor: You're a sick young man. Pneumonia in both lungs.

Eddie: How serious is it, doctor?

Doctor: You have a 50-50 chance of survival. 50-50 here. To prevent years of illness, I advise you to stop studying immediately and go out West where the air's dry. It'll clear up the fluid in your lungs.

Aunt Carole: Following the doctor's orders, Eddie took a hiatus from his studies and journeyed to Omaha, Nebraska, to where Patrick lived. As he stepped off the train, Eddie eagerly scanned the faces of people bustling about, looking for his brother. Before too long, he saw Patrick in his traditional black shirt and white priest's collar making his way through the crowd.

Patrick: Eddie! There you are!

Eddie: Patrick! I'm sorry. It's so wonderful to see my big brother again.

Patrick: And I'm glad to see you. Oh, just listen to that cough. No matter, this dry Nebraska air will do you good. Here, let me take these bags. I have a wagon waiting to take us to my place. Tell me all about yourself, little brother. You still want to be a priest like me?

Eddie: I do. I feel God has a special mission for me.

Patrick: Quite a change from the scamp who climbed our neighbor's tree back in old Ireland, trying to steal an apple.

Eddie: True. But boy, does an apple sound good about now? After that long train ride, I'm starved to pieces.

Patrick: You won't be for long. Want to guess what delicacy we're having for dinner?

Eddie: Patrick, you're an Irishman through and through. Potatoes?

Patrick: Of course!

Aunt Carole: Eddie enjoyed staying with his brother in Nebraska, and just as the doctor predicted, his lungs grew stronger. He resumed his studies, and at last on July 26th, 1912, Edward Joseph Flanagan was ordained and joined his brother in ministry.

Eddie: Finally, I'm a priest.

Patrick: Congratulations, Father Flanagan. Now we both get to button our collars in the back.

Eddie: I can hardly wait to see what God has in store for me.

Aunt Carole: Eddie, now known as Father Flanagan, was assigned a parish in the district of Omaha. He put his heart and soul into sharing God's love with the believers under his care. All went well for several years, and then a devastating drought hit Nebraska.

That year's entire crop of corn failed, and scores of harvesters were out of work. Jobless men gathered along the streets, willing to do almost anything just to make a few pennies. Father Flanagan's heart went out to the desperate men as he passed them on his way to the church.

Guest (Male): Father!

Eddie: What is it, my good man?

Guest (Male): I need work. I have to provide for my family. Help me, won't you, please?

Eddie: I will see what I can do.

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan continued walking, praying as he went. His steps slowed as he approached a vacant hotel building. It looked like it had been neglected for a long time. Its shingles had tumbled down and lay in broken shards on the ground, and its windows were covered with cobwebs. Father Flanagan peered inside.

Eddie: This abandoned hotel is the answer. I'll find a way to rent it. My friends in town will help, I know it. I'll start a free hotel for the men on the street. Lord knows it needs to be fixed up. New windows, patch the roof, maybe replaster the walls, but it's the answer to my prayer. Thank you, God.

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan hurriedly retraced his footsteps, eager to share his plan.

Eddie: Men, listen up!

Guest (Male): What is it, Father?

Eddie: I'm starting a free hotel where you can stay. But I can only fix it up and keep it running with your help.

Guest (Male): Of course we'll help, Father! Yeah!

Aunt Carole: That's how the Workingmen's Hotel began in 1916. Father Flanagan and some of his friends contributed money toward renting the building. He found some townspeople willing to help too, and store owners were willing to donate food.

Father Flanagan requested that each man staying at the Workingmen's Hotel pitch in to keep the place running. Some men had plumbing and carpentry skills and helped to renovate the building. Others served as cooks and window washers. As time went on, Father Flanagan found jobs for many of them and they gratefully moved on, making room in the hotel for other men to take their place.

Nearly 1,000 men would get a new lease on life by staying in the hotel. One night Father Flanagan joined the men for supper.

Guest (Male): Soup sure tastes good on a day like this.

Guest (Male): Sure is coming down. Thanks, Father Flanagan. Don't know where I'd be if I didn't have this place.

Guest (Male): Amen.

Eddie: You're all very kind. But it was God who gave me the idea to renovate this hotel. So when you say your prayers, thank Him.

Guest (Male): I don't say no prayers. I did as a boy because my mom made me. But it don't really matter now, does it?

Eddie: Of course it does. God always wishes to hear our prayers.

Guest (Male): Nah, it's too late for me. I'm set in my ways. You're not going to straighten me out, Father Flanagan.

Aunt Carole: That night Father Flanagan lay awake, thinking over what the man had said.

Eddie: It's hard for a man to start good habits when he's all grown. It's much easier when men are still boys. Now I know what you want me to do, Lord. You want me to help boys.

Aunt Carole: The following day, Father Flanagan was walking by the courthouse when he noticed an angry crowd of townspeople gathered outside the building.

Guest (Male): It's high time these boys are punished!

Guest (Female): That's right. They make the streets unsafe.

Guest (Male): Lock them up, I say! Don't let them terrorize the good citizens of this town any longer.

Eddie: Pardon me, who's on trial?

Guest (Male): Leaders of a gang of boys. These troublemakers have stolen and shoplifted for weeks. They've got the run of the street. They have to be sentenced to the reformatory today.

Guest (Female): And good riddance! Just a bunch of bad apples, rotten through and through.

Eddie: All bad, you say? But they're just boys.

Guest (Male): Go see for yourself then!

Judge: The seven accused will now rise. It is the opinion of this court—

Eddie: Excuse me, Your Honor.

Judge: Indeed. Does what you're about to say pertain to this case?

Eddie: It does, Your Honor.

Judge: Take the stand then.

Aunt Nikki: Uncle Jon, what do you think Father Flanagan is going to say to the judge?

Uncle Jon: I don't know, Aunt Nikki, but those townspeople seem pretty upset.

Aunt Nikki: They sure do. Perhaps they don't realize that sometimes girls and boys just need a little extra help and encouragement.

Uncle Jon: I think you might be right, Aunt Nikki.

Aunt Nikki: I'm just so thankful that there are caring adults who do recognize that children sometimes need someone to believe in them and guide them.

Uncle Jon: Me too. All of us here at Your Story Hour are so thankful for all of you caring adults who partner with us so that we too can encourage boys and girls and give them positive role models to follow.

Aunt Nikki: That's so true. Your Story Hour really does rely on the support of people like you. Without your financial gifts, we couldn't continue to share inspiring stories week after week.

Uncle Jon: So we invite you again today to support us and make a donation. You can give us a gift over the phone by calling 1-800-987-7879.

Aunt Nikki: Or online at yourstoryhour.org. Just click on "Support Us" in the menu. The great thing about giving online is that you don't have to worry about catching us during office hours, and you can even set up a monthly gift.

Uncle Jon: Every gift, whether large or small, helps us to bring stories of faith and courage to children and families all around the world.

Aunt Nikki: So again, thank you so much for being part of the work. Now let's get back to the courtroom and hear what Father Flanagan tells the judge in our story called "No Such Thing as a Bad Boy."

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan took a deep breath. How could he convince the judge to let him help these boys? He had a lot on his plate already with a parish to look after and the Workingmen's Hotel to keep in order. Still, weren't these boys the answer to his prayer? Father Flanagan addressed the judge with confidence.

Eddie: Don't send these boys to a reformatory. I wish them paroled into my care.

Judge: Order! Order in this court. Father, these orphans were to be sentenced to several years at a reformatory. How could you help them?

Eddie: With God's help, I can help them become better citizens. Children cannot be reformed by lock and key and bars. I have seen reformatories. They only teach boys fear and hate. These seven souls may be tainted by bad training and bad example, but love will remedy this if you'll only let me try. When I was a boy, my father taught me there is no such thing as a bad cow. Well, Your Honor, there is no such thing as a bad boy.

Judge: You're very convincing, Father. I want to give these boys another chance just as much as you do. And I declare them paroled to your charge.

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan and the boys left the courthouse.

Guest (Male): Boy, I'm glad to clear out of there. That judge scared me.

Eddie: Oh, Mickey, don't be a sissy. Now, lads, listen. You're off to a fresh start. That means no more name-calling, no more running about in the streets or fistfights in the alleys. You'll attend church and school, play baseball and grow to be good men.

Guest (Male): You really think we can?

Eddie: I do. Now, how'd you boys like to get some food, eh? I imagine it's been a long time since your last meal.

Guest (Male): Oh, yes! I'm going to like staying with you, Father.

Aunt Carole: Providing for the boys became Father Flanagan's focus. He found a building at the corner of 25th and Dodge Streets in Omaha, borrowed the $90 rent from a friend, and started his boys' home.

Word spread about how Father Flanagan had volunteered to care for the delinquents, and soon more boys from reform schools, slums, and jails arrived at his doorstep. City officials handed over young troublemakers, and relatives who didn't want to deal with an orphan would send the boy along to Father Flanagan.

He took them all in regardless of race, creed, or color. The boys' home grew rapidly, and within a few years they needed more space. Father Flanagan, now a United States citizen, discovered a farm for sale ten miles west of Omaha. The businessman David Baum lent the necessary funds for the purchase, and Father Flanagan began to oversee the construction of buildings to house the boys.

In 1921, the dormitories were finished and all 150 boys moved to the farm, which became known as Boys Town. Under Father Flanagan's supervision, Boys Town flourished into its own little village with schools, dormitories, a post office, chapel, and gymnasium. The boys helped run the dairy, cannery, bakery, barbershop, laundry, and grow their own food. Like any city, it had a government with a boy elected as mayor.

The unusual village caught the interest of movie makers, and in 1938, MGM Studios produced a feature film about Boys Town that was filmed on location. The fame of Boys Town boomed. One day after school was over for the afternoon and some boys were playing baseball, Patrick stopped by the farm to visit with his brother.

Patrick: Look at those happy boys. It's amazing what you've accomplished, Eddie.

Eddie: Nonsense, Patrick. This is God's work.

Patrick: But you're working hard yourself. It's a wonder you got those additions to the dormitories finished. The whole country is in an economic depression, yet you were able to gather donations for the buildings. The wonders that happen at Boys Town never cease to amaze me.

Eddie: God's providence is amazing.

Aunt Carole: While the brothers were talking, a small, gangly boy approached them from the direction of the nearby highway.

Jimmy: This Boys Town?

Eddie: It is, lad.

Jimmy: You Father Flanagan?

Patrick: No, but I'm his brother. This is the man you're looking for.

Eddie: That's me. Now, lad, you look tired. Here, here, sit on this bench with us and tell me about yourself.

Jimmy: My name's Jimmy. Mother died when I was a baby. I slept in the barn because Pop would beat me. Then he told me to get lost.

Eddie: Can a relative not take you in then?

Jimmy: Don't have none, Father.

Eddie: I'm sorry to hear that, my boy. Pete! Pete, come here a minute.

Pete: Yes, Father Flanagan?

Eddie: Pete's our mayor. He's been at Boys Town for several years. Pete, this is Jimmy. Help him find a clean bed and a change of clothes, eh?

Pete: Sure, Father. Come on, Jimmy.

Aunt Carole: Over the years, thousands of boys like Jimmy came to Boys Town. Some traveled to the farm on their own. Others were handed over by the authorities. One chilly winter night, for example, the phone on Father Flanagan's desk rang.

Eddie: Hello? At this hour, sheriff? How old is he? Eight? How on earth did he rob a bank? Well, bring him over. I'll wait up for you.

Sheriff: Here's the kid. His name is Eddie.

Eddie: Just like mine.

Sheriff: Yeah, well, thanks for taking this troublemaker off our hands.

Eddie: You're welcome. Good night, sheriff. The sheriff's gone now, so we can have a man-to-man talk, Eddie. Welcome to Boys Town.

Eddie (Gangster): What's so great about this dump?

Eddie: I'm thinking you'll find a lot to like here. We have football and baseball fields, a gymnasium—

Eddie (Gangster): That's kid stuff.

Eddie: Well, you're a kid yourself.

Eddie (Gangster): No, I ain't. I'm a gangster.

Eddie: A gangster, huh? Well, Eddie, there aren't any gangsters here in Boys Town. Just a bunch of boys who are learning to be good men. And I'm sure you're a really good boy at heart too.

Eddie (Gangster): Aw, shut up! I'm bad and you know it.

Aunt Carole: For weeks, the eight-year-old gangster continued to be stubborn and disrespectful, but Father Flanagan refused to give up on Eddie. He knew that in spite of Eddie's tough act, deep down inside his heart was a hunger for love, and Father Flanagan set out to find it. Still, after weeks at Boys Town, it seemed Eddie would never change. He used swear words to shock his teachers and he was mean and rude to any boy who tried to be friendly to him. Had the priest at last found a truly bad boy? Father Flanagan was about to leave his office one afternoon when Eddie stormed inside.

Eddie (Gangster): Look here. I'm clearing out of this joint. Don't care what you or the sheriff says. I'm leaving.

Eddie: How come?

Eddie (Gangster): I'm sick of your rotten town of goody-goody kids. I'm still a gangster, and I'm the toughest kid ever born. You didn't make me change and you'll never make me knuckle down to your rules either!

Eddie: I've known many boys like you, Eddie, and haven't had one failure yet.

Eddie (Gangster): Well, you're looking at one.

Eddie: I've been praying for you, Eddie.

Eddie (Gangster): It ain't done me no good.

Eddie: And I'm telling you it will. God and I love you very much.

Eddie (Gangster): I don't fall for that sissy stuff. Nobody's loved me in my whole life. I hate you! I—oh, Father Flanagan. Oh, Father Flanagan. I'll be a good boy, honest.

Aunt Carole: Love had triumphed in the eight-year-old gangster's life, just as the priest had seen happen over and over again. Months later, another boy, this one 16 years old, traveled to Boys Town. Curly had been part of a gang of thugs in New York City until he ran away from the police who threatened to arrest him. After walking aimlessly for weeks, Curly came upon a sign reading Father Flanagan's Boys Town. Ravenously hungry, he entered the village and was immediately spotted by Pete, mayor of Boys Town, who took special charge of newcomers.

Pete: Hi, I'm Pete, the mayor here.

Curly: And I'm Curly, the governor.

Pete: You're funny. What can I do for you, Curly?

Curly: I'd like to see Flanagan.

Pete: You mean Father Flanagan?

Curly: Sure, pal, whatever. Let me see the boss.

Pete: There he is, coming our way.

Curly: What do you know? A priest.

Pete: Don't talk that way about—hello, Father.

Eddie: That's all right, Pete. I'm not ashamed of my collar.

Pete: This is Curly.

Eddie: Hello, Curly. How can I help you?

Curly: I saw the sign. Wondered if you'd take me in a while.

Eddie: You're most welcome in Boys Town, lad.

Curly: Thanks, Father Flanagan. I won't be staying long.

Eddie: Pete will find you a bed in the east dormitory.

Pete: Come on, Curly. I'll give you the grand tour.

Curly: Lead the way, mayor.

Pete: At Boys Town, you can pick your trade. Here's the trade school. Come on in. Billy here just arrived and he's into woodworking. And down this way's the print shop where I work. I hope to report for a big paper someday. We have a village paper called the Boys Town Times. Even got a dairy and post office.

Curly: Pretty swell place.

Pete: I'll say. Father Flanagan's swell too. Ask any kid at Boys Town who his hero is and he'll pick Father Flanagan over Babe Ruth anytime.

Curly: Sure, quit pulling my leg, kid.

Pete: Oh, believe me, I'm not. But I'll give you a tip. There are plenty of tough kids here, so say anything about Father Flanagan and you'll be sorry.

Curly: Okay, okay. Thanks, kid.

Aunt Carole: Curly only stayed at Boys Town three weeks until he found a job at a factory. Meanwhile, Eddie, the eight-year-old gangster, remained for ten years. Then he joined the Marines and marched off to war. Eddie received several medals for his exceptional bravery during many hard-fought battles, and when World War II ended, he returned to Boys Town to visit Father Flanagan.

Eddie: Come in! Hello, Father.

Eddie: Eddie! Oh, my boy, come here and give me a hug. Look at your uniform, your medals. Oh, Eddie, I am so proud.

Eddie (Grown): I owe it all to you, Father, and to God. You straightened me out even though I didn't want to be straightened.

Eddie: I knew that deep down you're a good boy. And it's so good to see you.

Eddie (Grown): You too. There were some close calls, but I came through the war all right. I'm just as tough as that first day I came to Boys Town.

Eddie: So I see.

Eddie (Grown): Thought of you a lot during the war, Father, you and the other boys. By the way, how's this place chugging along? Got many troublemakers? Just bring them to me and I'll knock some sense into them.

Eddie: Well, that's not the way we win them over, Eddie, my lad.

Eddie (Grown): I know, I know. There's no such thing as a bad boy.

Eddie: That's right.

Aunt Carole: A few months later, as Father Flanagan strolled through Boys Town, stopping here and there to chat with boys, one came running out of the post office.

Guest (Male): Here's your mail, Father.

Eddie: Thank you, Tom. Hmm, what's this? Looks important. The envelope's marked personal. "Dear Father Flanagan, I'm writing to report on one of your boys. After he left Boys Town, he kept out of trouble. Today he's the executive of a department store. Remember Curly, the kid who joked about your funny collar? That's me. And I'm the executive. Father Flanagan, if you hadn't given me a second chance, no one else would have."

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan smiled to himself. He was always encouraged to hear from one of his boys. Now recognized internationally, he continued his efforts on behalf of boys, and following World War II, General Douglas MacArthur asked him to accompany him to Japan, Korea, Austria, and Germany to counsel those governments on how to better care for war orphans.

Meanwhile, back at Boys Town, the village seemed lonely with Father Flanagan away. On May 15th, 1948, a group of Boys Towners were crowded around a radio listening to a ball game. Suddenly, the announcer broke into the program with a heartbreaking announcement.

Radio Announcer: We just received word that Father Edward Flanagan, beloved founder of Boys Town, died unexpectedly this morning of a heart attack while he was in Germany. To boys everywhere, the name Father Flanagan has been a symbol of hope and a second chance. The world will miss this great man of God, but though he is gone, his work lives on.

Aunt Carole: Father Flanagan's work did live on. Today, Boys Town still exists, although many changes have been made. Nine sites across the United States help provide care for thousands of boys and girls each year. Father Flanagan, the Irish priest who believed "there is no such thing as a bad boy," had triumphed in God's work. He'd given over 6,000 boys more than a second chance. He had given them love.

Uncle Jon: Wow, Father Flanagan truly believed that every child, no matter how troubled, was worth loving and guiding.

Aunt Nikki: Mm-hmm. His mission, helping young boys grow into successful adults, really reflects the motto of Your Story Hour, which is: making boys and girls of today better men and women tomorrow.

Uncle Jon: That's right. We share stories with you every week because we love you very much. We want you to know that no matter what you face, you can become kind, brave, and full of faith.

Aunt Nikki: Yes, we do. So we hope you join us next time for another exciting story. Goodbye.