Siegfried - Part Three
From Immigrant to International Fugitive, the Life and Death of a Man of God
5.
He became known as the tickling priest.
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“He wouldn’t just do it momentarily. He would do it for about five or ten minutes.”
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“When he did this in front of my mother, she even told him to stop because he would do it for so long.”
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“He would pick me up and tickle my arms and sides.”
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“[Widera] tickled just about everybody in that school. He would do it on the playground.”
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“That was like ‘special attention.’ No one looked down on it.”
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“He would chase us around and grab us from behind. He would stick his hand in and tickle. This happened around 70 times.”
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“The tickling occurred in the van, in the hallway, wherever he could catch a kid alone. [Widera] did this to almost every…altar boy.”
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“I got to hate it when he would tickle me.”
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“I remember going to a Brewers game via bus with [Widera] and a group of kids. On the way home, I saw him rolling around on the floor with some of them. He was tickling the boys and they were tickling him. I did not think it was appropriate behavior and reported it to the Pastor.”
6.
The Glendenning boys quickly fell into the routine of the other altar boys at St. Mary. “It was a normal part of the school day to have a morning mass,” Randall recalls. “After mass, Father would take us out for breakfast. We would go to a little place on National Avenue—I don’t remember the name of it. Widera seemed very personable. He was also very ‘hands on.’”
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The tickling began not long after they joined the acolyteship.
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It remained mere tickling (albeit the tickling was enough, annoying and constant: “I would make excuses like I was sick” to get him to abate, Randall recalled) until after the New Year. Sometime in February 1970, on a bitterly cold morning without sunshine and with the snow collecting in soot-colored mounds along the sidewalks of West Allis, Father Widera ended mass early. He told the altar boys there would be no breakfast. Then he asked Randall Glendenning to accompany him to the rectory. Father Setnicar was there, but the older priest liked to sleep late. Randall heard the housekeeper in the kitchen, but Widera managed to escort Randall upstairs and down the hallway and into Widera’s living quarters without the two being seen. The boy had no idea why they’d foregone breakfast; he had no idea why Fr. Siegfried brought him to the rectory. He assumed it was important. By now he was used to Widera choosing favorites, publicly praising the boy whom he was closest to at the time; he was used to Fr. Siegfried exerting psychological control over the boys. Of course, he lacked the vocabulary or self-awareness to understand the manipulation. He understood these things only as the feelings they brought within him: anger and jealousy; or, right now, having had Siegfried bring him, only him, back to the father’s private living quarters, pride. And so it confused him, confused and ashamed him—it paralyzed him—when, alone inside the bedroom, Fr. Siegfried began massaging Randall’s genitals through his pants.
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All that winter and spring, Fr. Siegfried took the altar boys with less frequency to the restaurant on National Avenue. What had been a daily occurrence now only occurred twice a week. On the other mornings, Widera asked Randall Glendenning to accompany him to the rectory. There, sometimes clothed and sometimes unclothed, the priest fondled the boy’s genitals. Later Widera had Glendenning touch himself while rubbing the father’s penis until Widera climaxed. Sometimes Widera forced the boy’s thighs together and inserted his penis between them; he’d do this until ejaculation. Sometimes he ejaculated onto the boy. Sometimes he ejaculated onto the floorboards of the small room. Randall said this went on two or three times a week, every week, between the winter of 1970 and the summer of 1972.
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“When I was younger,” Randall Glendenning said in 2002, “I didn’t understand it and I didn’t know what to think. As I got older and the contact continued, I was really uncomfortable with it.” Randall says he was hesitant to say anything because, ultimately, he liked Fr. Siegfried and he liked the benefits of having the young priest as a friend. “I still have one of the stuffed animals he gave me.”
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There were other factors in play. The Glendenning’s were a proud Catholic family in a proud Catholic neighborhood. Compounding this was the fact that Randall’s mother was new to the area and a divorcee. Divorce was still viewed as a moral failing, particularly for women. It was assumed that Patricia Glendenning was a troublemaker and a potential burden for the community. To be the woman to accuse a priest? To roll into town and cause havoc, questioning not only the morality of a Father but deigning to discuss his sexuality? As young as he was, Randall Glendenning understood this. He internalized his mother’s hardships and decided not to add to them.
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Randall Glendenning was not the only boy Siegfried Widera was abusing in West Allis. The following is an account from a man recalling one of many interactions with the priest: “Every time I pass the yeast factory on I-94 heading into Milwaukee, I think of him. Father would take me places in Milwaukee, and I would smell that odor when we passed that section of the expressway.” This memory stood out particularly because Siegfried would place the boy on his lap and allow the boy to steer the VW van.
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A third boy, Michael Haas, who was friends with Randall and Chris Glendenning and a fellow student at St. Mary Help of Christians, recalled being taken to The Eagles Club by Fr. Siegfried. The Eagles are a fraternal order, not unlike the Elk’s or the Shriner’s, and the clubhouse in West Allis sat on Wisconsin Avenue in a grand old building designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright. According to its website, the club offered a two-story gym and bowling alley, basketball and handball courts, lounges, a cafeteria, a rooftop sitting area, and an indoor swimming pool. Its architecture is Moorish in aesthetic, an odd sight in German Wisconsin, but fitting, given that the club had saunas and a Turkish bath. Located halfway between the church and Siegfried’s parents’ house, it was common for Widera to take a boy or a group of boys to the house on Hawthorne to see Cesar and to fish or to play golf before, on the way back, stopping at the club. Siegfried was known and welcome at the establishment. Haas reported, “He seemed to be very social and active in the community. When he was with adults, you (a child) didn’t exist. It was only when we were alone with him that he paid attention to us.” Michael Haas recalls accompanying the Father to the sauna, where the boy was forced to disrobe. Nothing sexual occurred. “Lots of naked wrinkly men all over the place!” Haas remembered. He also remembered wondering if it were normal for him to see and be naked with a priest. He assumed so. Everybody inside the sauna was nude.
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As with the Glendenning’s, Haas was new to West Allis. His mother was divorced. Father Widera visited the home shortly after their arrival to town. He continued to come by the house on a regular basis. “We didn’t have a lot,” Haas recalled. “We were in a new school, new environment. My dad at that time, we had him wrapped around our fingers. Dad would take us to Toys R Us and buy us what we wanted. Widera would do the same. It was like having two dads.”
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Michael Haas recalls one evening when Fr. Siegfried had come for supper. They were sitting on the sofa when the priest asked Michael to sit on his lap. He began tickling the boy. “I could feel he had an erection.”
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Haas joined the other altar boys on trips that included Randall and Chris Glendenning. Some days, in the summer, Father Widera had the group climb into his Volkswagen van and drive to the Tyrolean Towne House Inn, west of I-41. The hotel’s architecture was that of Old World Bavaria, with expansive rooflines and balconies adorned with flower boxes and ornate trim, shutters, and faceplates. Sometimes Widera rented a room. Often he simply parked and talked to the manager, who knew him, and the priest and the boys then used the Inn’s swimming pool. “When Father Widera took us swimming,” Haas recalled, “you would have to take your suit off. He told us to. I don’t remember if he took my suit off or if he had me do it. He would be swimming around naked and we would be naked too. He would rub his genitals against us—like a dog, humping. He did it while tickling us in the water and while playing in the water.”
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Michael Haas said sometimes Fr. Siegfried rubbed up against Haas and then Randall Glendenning one after the other. When asked if there were other people at the pool, Haas said yes, but that they “never seemed to notice what was happening.”
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As an attempt at defense or to cope with the anxiety the assault had brought upon him, Randall Glendenning refused to go anywhere without his younger brother, Chris. This worked for a time. Eventually, however, Fr. Siegfried found an answer to this: he introduced pornography to Chris Glendenning. Chris told investigators the Father did this to keep him busy while Widera assaulted his older brother. The assaults of Randall Glendenning took place in the VW bus, in rooms rented at the Tyrolean Towne House Inn, and, most often, inside Widera’s living quarters. As Chris described it, Fr. Siegfried took the two boys back to the rectory and had Chris sit in the antechamber to his living quarters. He gave Chris a pornographic magazine—Chris could not recall the name of the publication, though he thought it rhymed with “Blue Jay”—while Widera took Randall inside the bedroom. Chris flipped through the magazine, looking at naked women. He said he could hear Widera grunting through the closed door. “I knew what was happening,” Chris said, “that father Widera was molesting Randy but Randy and I never talked about it.”
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(Chris Glendenning says the introduction of pornography to him was like cocaine. An adult now, Chris says he is still addicted to it. It has caused massive problems within his marriage.)
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Chris himself could only recall being assaulted once. It was sometime after the winter thaw, when sunshine came in through the rectory bedroom windows. Father Widera began tickling him. How things progressed remained foggy to him, but he recalled Widera naked beneath the sheets of the bed, calling Chris over and telling the boy to disrobe. Then he had Chris Glendenning climb on top of him and face him. “He held onto my body really tight and was moving me up and down, rubbing my body against his erect penis.” When Widera reached satisfaction, he grunted. By now the grunt had become, among the altar boys, a notorious calling card. “He has this annoying grunt he does when he would tickle us and got to a point when he was sexually gratified. I remember hearing that sound when Father Widera was in the bedroom with Randy. That grunt was the same sound I heard when he ejaculated on me.”
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When the long winters ended and school let out for the summer, Widera arranged weekend camping trips. Tired mothers were happy to have the break. Widera loaded his van with boys and took them to Timber Trails camping grounds in West Bend, WI; to a cabin on Chain O’ Lakes owned by Otto Widera; to Iron Mountain in Michigan, and to Sugarbush in Outagamie County.
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On these trips, Siegfried had Michael Haas and Randall Glendenning share his bed. Sometimes the three of them slept naked. Usually, Siegfried would have sexual contact with one boy while the others were out fishing or hiking. Occasionally he’d have contact with Haas and Glendenning together. He never had the boys touch each other; rather, he had them both touch him, or he touched both of them. Haas said sometimes he slept in the bathroom to get away from Fr. Siegfried.
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Michael Haas said he grew tired of the tickling and fondling and told his mother. She did nothing.
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Worse, Haas felt, Fr. Siegfried knew the boy had said something. “I never told Father Widera, but somehow he just knew. As far as the trips, it didn’t stop right away. Later I was not invited at all. It’s like my mom didn’t notice or question why I was not going anymore. She didn’t even remember my telling her about the abuse.”
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That had been the rule. “He basically said, ‘Don’t ever say anything to anybody or this will all end.’”
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It is Haas’s recollection that his mother did nothing about the revelation, but this might not be the case. By 1972, adults affiliated with St. Mary Help of Christians were noticing Widera’s odd behavior.
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A male teacher at St. Mary saw Fr. Siegfried tickling the students of a third teacher on the playground. The teacher walked up to Widera and said that if Widera were to tickle his own students in such a fashion, he’d punch Father in the face.
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Parents warned their children to stay away from Siegfried.
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It was, then, a whisper network approach to the priest’s behavior. In all likelihood, Ms. Haas had taken her son’s accusation to heart. But she faced the same difficulties as Patricia Glendenning: new to the area, divorced, not wanting to be a troublemaker. Ms. Haas relied on people she trusted. They compared notes and discussed what they saw and what they’d heard.
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Sometime in 1972, Pastor Rolland Glass called Fr. Siegfried into his office. “Circumstances are forcing me to draw certain conclusions about you and your conduct with little boys,” Glass told him. It is unknown what else Fr. Glass said in that meeting, but once it was over Siegfried stopped seeing boys. He stopped the breakfasts after mass, the tickling, the trips to the Tyrolean Towne House Inn, the camping and fishing trips. Instead he secluded himself inside his room at the rectory, spending his downtime drinking in front of the TV. He rarely left his armchair, which was surrounded by empty liquor bottles. Finally, he offered his resignation from his post at St. Mary Help of Christians and focused solely on his role as Associate Pastor of St. Mary in Port Washington. Rolland Glass thought this was the end of it. He did not alert law enforcement or authorities within the Archdiocese. He felt the matter had been resolved.