Jueves, 14 de diciembre 2006
 t is three months since I started work in Lurigancho Prison, Lima, which with over 5,000 men, is the largest establishment of its kind in Peru. While I know the prisoners experience a terrible boredom, for the worker there is never a dull day. It is a sad, depressing. foul-smelling, unhealthy place, as are most prisons in Latin America, and yet I can say that these three months have been the most deeply rewarding of my life. I thank God for this experience, and I am grateful to our Sisters for their support and interest.
I go to the prison three or four days a week, other days I visit some of the men’s families, go to the ‘Palacio de Justicia’ with business connected with their documents, etc. In the prison itself I work in two pavilions, each with about 350 men between 18-30 years of age. For most it hasn’t been their first time: some have been in and out several times. The large majority come from the poor sectors of Lima where they never had enough to eat, didn’t finish school and couldn’t find decent work. Yet, behind those bars of Pavilions 6 and 8 I have seen acts of loyalty and charity that maybe if I were in the same situation I would not be able to do. Many have been involved in robberies, drugs and worse, but some are there for minor thefts and didn’t have the money to pay off some of the officials of the law.
It was with these words ringing in my ears and deep emotions welling up in my heart that I set out on the long 12.500 mile journey to Lima, Peru, on the morning of December 16, 1983. I was still1 shocked and sad by the news that woke us from our sleep the morning before - Sister Joan had been shot dead ring the course of her ministry in Lurigancho Prison. As I re-read her letter of August last I was consoled by fact that Joan was where she wanted to be: among the convicts whom society rejects. She died in action, in the Lord’s work, preaching the Gospel by her example amongst the most marginated.
Sister Joan’s tragic and violent death became so much more real for me when I arrived in Lima about ten hours after she had been laid to rest. Her name seemed to be on the lips of everybody in Peru and papers and T.V. newscasts were full of pictures, reports and stories of the events of the previous few days in Luringancho.
Our Sisters who were naturally deeply grieved and shocked shared with me the story of what happened on December 14.
On Wednesday morning December 14, Joan left early for the prison. That was the last time we saw her alive. She had been telling us that there was a lot of unrest for the past few weeks. The prisoners’ visitors were curtailed for different reasons, conditions inside were bad; out of 5000 prisoners only 1000 or so were sentenced, the rest were pending sentence or perhaps innocent; drug peddlers were escaping by paying off the prison staff; in general there was a lot of disturbance. But Joan kept going unafraid. Her job was to try to bring some relief -medicines for some, a kind word for others, news about how she was progressing with their legal papers in the Ministry for Justice; anything to make them feel more human, to give them courage, to help them regain their liberty.
That morning a group of prisoners decided that they were going to get liberty at all costs, even if they were to die in the process. Their plan: take Joan, three Marist Sisters and social workers as hostages. This plan they put into effect at 11.00 a.m. when a number of people were present at a Christmas celebration. They held them hostage and demanded collaboration with their plan of escape. Sister Ana Marzola, a Marist Sister, who had worked in the prison for ten years, was to be the go between the authorities and the escapees. She was also asked to secure for them an ambulance -that being the most inconspicuous mode of travel for getting out unnoticed.
Instead of approaching the prison authorities directly, Ana hurried to report what was happening to Cardinal Landazuri and the Bishops. Then she went to the prison authorities with the plan.
Negotiations went on all day, and by five o’clock that afternoon they had come to an agreement that the prisoners and the hostages would leave together in the ambulance. The Sisters left in great fear, praying to God for protection.
They were no sooner outside the gate when the shooting began. The ambulance was riddled with bullets from all sides. The hostages begged for mercy but the police responded by continuing to shoot indiscriminately. Our Joan must have died fairly quickly. She was struck by four bullets, one through the back of the neck, two through her leg and one through her finger. The other Sisters escaped miraculously as they lay under the prisoners who were mown down on top of them. When the police pulled out the dead or wounded prisoners they helped the hostages to safety. Joan appeared in one newspaper photograph held like a baby in the arms of a policeman, her head fallen backwards in death, her arms limp.
While the remains of Sister Joan lay in the Catholic Church in Cueva, one of the shanty towns of Lima, crowds of people gathered through the night and filed past the coffin. These were the people among whom Sister Joan had lived and ministered for six years, helping them to find food for their children, to take care of their sick and, latterly, to ease the lot of those who were imprisoned. That they loved Sister Joan and had clear insight regarding the meaning and value of her death was evident in the large banner which hung above the altar. It read:
I was in prison and you visited me. (Matt. 25.36)
There’s no greater love than to lay down our life for your friends. (John. 15.13)
JUANITA, YOU WILL LIVE ON IN THE HEARTS OF YOUR PEOPLE.
The church was full to overflowing on the following morning. Cardinal Landazuri with almost a hundred celebrants officiated at the funeral Mass. Most of the people present were in tears. They responded with a tumultuous ovation when the Cardinal denounced the cause and circumstances of Sister Joan’s and the prisoners’ deaths, and called for a thorough investigation of the event. After the Mass the same people walked the journey of ten kilometers -about six miles- which lay between the church and the cemetery called El Angel. They prayed, sang and took turns with the Sisters and the priests in carrying Sister’s body to its final resting place. It was a procession of peaceful, hopeful protest of the death of Sister Joan and the eight prisoners and of the conditions that brought them to their death.
The prisoners who knew Sister Joan were very grieved by her untimely death. One of them expressed his reaction in a letter:
Minutes before Sister Juanita was taken hostage I was speaking with her when she came with a packet sent in with her by my mother. I can still see her eyes which reached into eternity. Her love, pure and gentle, which reflected her great love for people. Her spirit of kindness and sacrifice towards us prisoners will be my most precious memory.
Julio
Another expressed his feelings in a poem:
How can I ask that you return to brighten life,
How can I find your goodness and tenderness.
Your dedication and blind faith, in bringing love and joy.
Let that be your memory - sign of Eternal Glory.
Jorge.
The investigation into the shooting of Sister Joan and the prisoners continues. At an early stage the Inspector and Director of Prisons were held responsible and were to be detained, but this was rejected by the judge. A new judge has been named for a second investigation but so far there has been no statement. We hope however for a just outcome of this event so that the violence will cease.
God does great things in mysterious ways and often uses the most unlikely people and circumstances to carry out His plan. Sister Joan reached out to the poor with both hands and a big heart and in a quiet and unassuming way. She gave all she had and God accepted her generosity.
I left Lima full of gratitude for the testimony of Sister Joan’s life which was one of service to the most abandoned. I pray that her life and death may inspire and make us instruments of God’s love and care for the poor and suffering of our world.
by Sr Juliana O’Neill
FAR EAST, Magazine of The Columban Fathers and Sisters. March 1984. pp. 1-4.
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