Father Quinter’s Essential Journalism Rule

by Susan Matthews

Father Paul Quinter scrawled edits in the margins of my first draft of adult life–correcting and adding clarity. Looking back 30-plus years later, I realize he wrote in indelible red ink.

In 1991, Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua appointed him as The Catholic Standard and Times’ new editor-in-chief. I’d been enjoying my first job out of college as editor of the entertainment and sports sections and wasn’t excited about the change.

The Prince’s Pawns

The newspaper enjoyed autonomy under Cardinal Krol, but Cardinal Bevilacqua saw the Archdiocese of Philadelphia’s official newspaper as a public relations tool.

Would Quinter, who had been his Administrative Secretary, be his watchdog? While that may have been Bevilacqua’s intention, the 35-year-old priest would end up shielding us – absorbing the stress of being our buffer. 

Bevilacqua resorted to having a highly paid media consultant from the Tierney Group review issues with articles about church and school closings before they went to the printer. He objected to the inclusion of negative quotes from disgruntled parishioners. I asked Quinter, who had earned a master’s degree from the Columbia School of Journalism, how he could stand the interference. He explained that archdiocesan priests vow obedience to the Church – to their bishops. His unwavering faith in God’s plan was greater than his anger over Bevilaqua’s directives.

It all seemed very Machiavellian then. However, the most tragic implications of the hierarchy’s manipulation of this vow wouldn’t become apparent until 2011. 

Promises To Keep

My concerns then were generic, and I barraged my new boss with theological questions left over from Catholic high school. Having received two degrees from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, he was often bewildered by what the nuns had told me. With an effortless teaching ability, he’d set me straight without a hint of condescension. Our managing editor, Joe Ryan, recently reminded me of the time I said, “I swear to God I”‘ll learn the commandments” with Father Quinter responding, “That’s one of them.”

During a candid conversation about a priest’s rumored affair, I was surprised to learn that archdiocesan priests do not take vows of celibacy or poverty. These are only promises. Quinter quickly added that these promises are “traditions with a capital T, and priests should keep them.” He saw moral obligations where other priests saw loopholes.

While our editor, he also served as the delegate to pro-life organizations and received a Doctor in Humane Letters from Holy Family College. We’d find him behind a desk stacked high with work late into the night and on weekends. There was no slacking off in his newsroom, but he led by example rather than demands. During his tenure, we won several Catholic Press Awards in various categories. 

We had to be creative when choosing a Christmas present for Father Quinter. Visibly uncomfortable when receiving anything, he’d pass on everything he could to others. His only notable possession was a plastic comb. It was not the thin black barber shop variety—no, it was the brightly colored comb high school girls carried in the 1980s. The oversized, rounded handle stuck out of his back pocket every day. The contradiction still makes me laugh.

Holy Cow!

Thankfully, Father Quinter had a sense of humor. “My nerves,” he’d say when I shared a story or proposed a new idea. He and managing editor Joseph Ryan entrusted me with editorial and graphic design freedom I could not have hoped for anywhere else. 

The best example is “Holy Cow!” – a magazine written for and by Catholic high school students. While my name and some of the content prompted a few prayerful “Dear Lords,” Quinter appreciated my goal of reaching younger people with the added bonus of increasing advertising revenue. 

He never shut down the dicey topics my student journalists covered such as contraception and drug use. Without judgment, he met everyone where they were on their “faith journey.” 

I left The Catholic Standard and Times in 1996 and lost touch with Father Quinter after he was assigned to be pastor at St. Monica Parish in 2001. During that time, I gave birth to my children, Kylie Bea and Declan. When parenting worries beyond my control cropped up, I relied on his workplace advice, which applies to life in general: “Hand it over to God.”

Two years later, I was happy to learn he’d been appointed Director of the English-language edition of L’Osservatore Romana, the official newspaper of the Holy See.

Show. Don’t Tell.

The assignment delivered him away from the horror of the 2005 Grand Jury Report, but he was back serving as Pastor at Maternity B.V.M. when the 2011 Grand Jury Report was released.

As Bevilacqua’s Secretary, did he stumble across secrets or coverups? Did the vow of obedience compel his silence? I’ve wondered over the years, but I never asked. My questions would have reconnected him to his revolting superiors. The compartmentalization was part respect and part selfish. 

With Quinter’s intelligence and experience, it seems odd that he didn’t rise to the ranks of the Church hierarchy. The reason is likely what made him such a beloved boss and priest. He was Christ-like. 

As I continue to revise my life, I’ll remember how he lived by one of the most essential rules of journalism: Show. Don’t tell.