The only other time that I had met with a bishop was after I had made an appointment through his secretary. Bishop Snyder’s informality felt refreshing. This was the first of many steps I’ve seen him take to be very personal in ministry and to encourage fullness of life for persons with disabilities. Not only was he interested in a ministry for Catholics who are deaf, but also he wanted to expand the ministry to include all disabilities. It was his idea to hire someone else to do deaf ministry and I would move to Jacksonville (my home town) and direct a ministry to persons with disabilities. I protested at first because I didn’t know anything about mental retardation — the largest group of people with disabilities. He told me, “I’ll arrange for you to go to Brooklyn for a week and the staff there will show you what they’re doing.” In Brooklyn, diocesan staff members were eager to talk about their friend “Jack.” They treated me royally. They were pleased that he had sent me to learn from them. They showed me high-rise residences for the disabled, convents that had been turned into group homes, a camp that served 800 children with disabilities, and an equal number of high school students trained to be their buddies in the summer. Bishop Snyder had been well prepared for this ministry while in Brooklyn. There, he had been invited each year to preside at confirmation for the special religious education classes. Here, he continued to encourage full participation by persons with disabilities, including having an altar server with a disability at all the confirmations and for most of the diocesan liturgical events. This has touched many hearts, not the least of which is that of the faithful server, Robert. When I returned from Brooklyn to Jacksonville, I wondered how we could duplicate in North Florida what I had seen there. Life seems slower in Florida, and very personal, and we were sparsely populated compared to Brooklyn. I was also fearful of attempting anything as big as I had seen. So the ministry began small, with a secretary and myself traveling from parish to parish, listening to pastors tell me what disability needs they had identified. Father Rene Robert served and continues to serve at the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind in St. Augustine — training interpreters so that the deaf ministry could spread throughout the diocese. A subsequent director of the disabilities ministry, Jack Green, developed Camp I Am Special, closely resembling the style of camp that we saw in Brooklyn. For many years certain parents requested a Catholic residence for their sons and daughters with disabilities. As awareness grew, support grew for funding this needed service. Our bishop paved the way by allowing the former St. Mary’s Home, located next to Christ the King Parish, to become a residential property known as Harbor House. It quickly grew to include four homes, a workshop and an extended family of friends that reached beyond the boundaries of the diocese. When issues were raised relating to the philosophy of Harbor House, it was Bishop Snyder who suggested that the Board of Directors spend a year in prayer, to study and discern whether it was best for the homes to join the international community of L’Arche. A year later he encouraged their separation (structurally) from the diocese so it could become a L’Arche Harbor House community assuring a continuity of philosophy and spirit. When Marywood was designed, Bishop Snyder made sure it was fully accessible which meant providing additional financial support. Even today, it is one of the few fully accessible retreat centers in the country. Someone who uses a wheelchair can feel at home there and even enjoy the beautiful view of the St. Johns River from a dock that stretches out over the water for several hundred feet. From the beginning, word spread nationally that persons with disabilities had a home in the heart of Bishop Snyder. He was invited to serve on national boards that represented all areas of disabilities. He not only participated actively on these boards, but also spoke on their behalf to other bishops and influenced the growth of disabilities ministries in dioceses throughout the country. In addition to administrative roles, there are numerous personal stories, and here are just a few. At an early Faith and Sharing Retreat at Camp St. John, a retreatant with Downs Syndrome was feeling sad because Bishop Snyder had not said “Good Night” to her. When he heard this, he excused himself from a group of friends to join her in the chapel. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He sat likewise beside her. She, so comforted by his presence, put her head on his shoulder and fell asleep. When the bishop tells this story he closes with “There I was with a lovely woman asleep in my arms that even my mother would approve.” On another occasion, he was vested and ready for the entrance procession at the Cathedral. Regina, blind and in a clown costume for a scriptural interpretation, told him that she had gotten left behind and had no one to guide her. He suggested she take his arm and walk in with him. She asked, “What will people think when they see you coming in with a clown?” He responded, “Regina, if you could see how I’m dressed, you’d wonder which of us is the clown!” On another occasion, Bishop Snyder was presiding at a liturgy and a person with a mental handicap followed everyone up for communion although she wasn’t Catholic. The Eucharistic minister said to her, “This is the Body of Christ.” She paused for a moment, and then responded, “Well ain’t that something!” Then she received as she’d seen others do. On the way back to her seat, she told her acquaintances, “That’s the nicest man up there — he just gave me the Body of Christ.” The event was shared with the bishop following Mass, and he said, “If only we would all receive with such faith!” We have been blessed with a leader who lives the words of Jesus, “The last shall be first.” And “The least among you will be the greatest.” Sister of St. Joseph Rita Baum now lives at Nazareth Homes for persons with mental handicaps in Boca Raton, Florida.