The nuns I knew growing up in the late 1960’s into the 70’s were versatile in means and manners. In that day-in-age if you were in the catholic school realm (as in monarchy) you grew to know the cycles and habits (no pun intended) of the nuns you came in contact with every day. Sure, each and every one of us had a tale to tell to this day about THAT nun who hit us with hands and rulers however our bigger fear was what would happen if our parents found out. It truly was a psychological tug-of-war and they knew it. 

The former Saint Mary Academy on Forest Avenue in Lakewood. New Jersey was a very tight knit community. Parents knew all the teacher and the teachers knew all the parents – period. The teachers (nuns and lay) knew that is discipline was doled out in school, if it got back to your parents’ chances were good that it would be doubled-down on at home. Of course, this was the age where cable television was not even on the horizon much less instant communications such as cell phones that carried instant communication – so the discipliner would have a cool off period so-to-speak before making any call to any home of the discipline-ee. It was a waiting game once the child got home, would the phone ring and when it did, was it Sister So-in-so at the other end. There was less to worry about with the lay teacher. Not to mention they didn’t toll out warranted punishment but in most cases, that’s where it stopped, on the school grounds and in the rarest of cases was a follow-up call made to the home. At one point in my 7th grade year (1974) I openly called our music teacher, Mr. Kline, a drunk loudly and in front of at least 50 people. Of course this would be, rightly so, addressed and Sister Diane on the accompanying piano snatched me from row eight and got me to the door of Saint Joseph hall and stammered, “Sister Harold’s office now” (Sister Harold was the principal)  Of course I considered a detour and a pipe dream that this would be forgotten by recess, but I thought I would play the odds of taking this one on the chin – my parents knew Mr. Kline and did not like Mr. Kline so I did as I was told and made the trip to Sister Harold’s office where I was told by the administrative assistant, Mrs. Groff to sit in the chair outside her office – I did and 30 minutes passed as did an hour and then a second hour. Being inside her office, she knew I was there. <REDACTED NAME> my teacher, entered her office and looked at my pathetic face and entered the principal’s office. Sister Harold, from her office and for my benefit to hear, called <REDACTED NAME> on the internal intercom and said, “please give me the Novozinsky’s phone number” I poked my head and peeked into the office and said “201-363-5166.” At that moment, seeing that I was trapped, Sister and Mrs. Kowit tried to suppress and laugh and failed. I knew I was off the hook and as she left Sister’s office, pointed to the hallway for me to leave with her. As we walked across the yard, she said “did you really say that?” I replied, “yes, but I didn’t mean it.” <NAME REDACTED> simply said, “yes you did and you’re lucky she (Sister Harold) likes you.” That night I rested easily; I knew a phone call would not be coming.

Sister Patricius came to the former Saint Mary Academy in the early 1970’s and while I was there. I have enough verbal and written evidence to stand ground on that she was a vile, abusive and mentally ill individual. She preyed on the younger students at the school almost on a daily, and certainly a weekly basis. She was foul mouthed with a case of halitosis coupled with smokers’ breath. Her pleasant demeanor with parents was in direct contrast to her physical and mental abuse of the students in her charge. If evil had personification, it would be Patricius. Based on interviewed accounts, Patricius had a urophilia fetish which is a strong sexual desire to watch individuals (in this case, children) wet themselves. The essence of this behavior is branding oneself in a position of power by humiliating the individual who must perform while the abuser engages in voyeuristic pleasure while gaining a control over the individual performing the act unwillingly. One may think this is the worst predatory actions that one could display particularly with children and they would be correct, however, no one should “rate” the sexual top 10 list of an abuser, with this individual the control factor went a step higher, she demanded that the prey perform this act in front of her lower-grade classmates when they raised their hands to be excused for the restroom and were denied. Interesting enough, Patricius more-so than not relegated this vile act of abuse to the girls in her charge, for the boys the abuse came outside the classroom and in a side nurses office on the first floor of the main building. 

Boys will be boys and boys will fight and unlike girls (insert snark) boys will shake hands after fighting and it’s back to the schoolyard playground. Patricius sought out the playground monitoring duties. She looked for any given opportunity to dole out punishment that went beyond standing against the fence for the remainder of recess. On two known occasions, when a fight broke out in the school yard, Patricius would step in and break them up and bring the offenders inside to the nurses office where the doors remained closed. She would have them remove their shirts and unbuckle their pants and make them slap each other on the chests and arms. Her reasoning was that she believed (at least outwardly) that this put a close to the fight and the slapping made each feel the pain so not to fight again. This was the reasoning Patricius relayed to a lay teacher who indeed reported it to the principal. 
An expert in fetish studies have been informed of the above. The reaction was an interested look on her face but not even an eyebrow raised or look of shock. I was told that albeit disgusting and a crime, it was a case of voyeurism at its worst level; it was with children. The practice was repeated as well as other forms of abuse at her hands and this projects not only power but gratification sexually as well. 

Then came the mom and the uncle. 

In what I can gather 1970 – 1971 were the years Patricius was at Saint Mary. Researching her was difficult because she would have been what I call a “folder.” This is to mean that her records were not digitalized and her records were in a manila folder somewhere/ someplace.  She taught first grade, which she was ill-suited for but gave her an opportunity to be around the most vulnerable. The beatings she administered were severe and I asked one of her victims that I remembered from to explain. He paused and all he could muster was, the beating was brutal. Criminal.” He didn’t say much more. I was told to talk to Peter* and have him tell his story.

It took all of about 40 minutes to find Peter because I was given his (real) last name, I discovered without much effort that he is an elected northern NJ county officer. I introduced myself and while my ego lifted full-throttle I assumed he would recognize the name - bubble burst, he did not so I immediately brought up Saint Mary Academy. I asked him about the abuse that took place and without a hint of hesitation, Peter acknowledged the situation. He was unaware that someone had started a social media page on Facebook that was a group of Saint Mary alumni and that he was brought up though not mentioned by name on the page which he was grateful for. I offered him a choice, I would use a “Peter” to protect his identity or, if too painful, I would not use his story at all. We hung up and two days later, he called me back and said “fuck it, use my name."

In November of what we all concur on, 1972, Peter came home from school and as a first grader,  and went straight to the bathroom. His mother was home as was his father’s brother, his uncle. At his point I want to make clear, even though Peter gave me the “fuck it okay” to use his name, I opted not to – his story is too personal and I felt as though he would regret one day that it was published. 

The shower in Peter’s house was turned on and remained on for what he says was just “a long, long” time. His uncle noticed and knocked, he knocked again and then pushed the door open. Peter was curled in a ball and nestled in a ball with only his underpants on between the tub and toilet. His back was exposed and so were the bruises – the bruises that covered his entire back. Sensing something wrong, and hearing her brother-in-law yell his name, his mother came running. Peter was wedged and they could not get him out from his protective cocoon he put himself in. His uncle gripped the toilet and pulled the toilet once, twice and on the third pull, pulled it from the floor and freed the boy whose mother wrapped in a towel and was crying. 

Peter was moved to the living room and the bruises were tended to and the two adults agreed to bring him to Paul Kimble hospital as well as call the police and beat the doctors to that call. They were savvy to realize that they would have been blamed by the staff at the hospital and the police would be called as standard procedure. As they arrived the police were already there and stayed a distance away as to not upset the boy any further. Once behind a screen the police, Peter’s mother and uncle recounted the story and according to Peter, the police believed them.

This is where it gets sketchy. 

The police left with what little information they had gathered at the hospital. When Peter told me this, I merely interjected that those were the times. The police believed that there was not home abuse and that was that. Now-a-days would be different and rightfully so.  

When they got home, Peter told his mother and uncle what had happened. Sister Patricius “caught” Peter taking candy from a teacher’s desk when he came to a classroom during recess to take his prescribed medicine he forgot to bring and take at lunch. Patricius told him to remove his blazer and proceeded to beat him on the back with such force that he tried to hide under a row of desks and that is when the slaps turned to punches and that is why his back was bruised. Peter said that after she was done, all she did was leave and he was left to pick up the pills from the open prescription bottle that had fallen from his hands. Crying he simply went back to his classroom and waited for the bell to go home. He was bruised, battered and defeated. He hid in the bathroom at home and turned on the water in the shower because he did not want to hear the phone ring when Patricius called to tell his mother her son was a thief. The call never came.

The boy was put to bed and the great candy heist of November 1972 was not a factor in the decision of punishment; there would no punishment for the boy, her son and his nephew was beat by a psychopath and they would address it – tonight.

The following is a recollection of a former nun that was in the convent that night. She has read the details that will follow (in italics) after I interviewed her and she agrees that this is accurate to her recollection of that evening. “The rapping on the door of the convent at Saint Mary Academy was beyond a knock, it was more the sound of a ballpein hammer and the nuns inside were scared and had reason to be. They considered calling the police. They had no idea what was on the other side. Years/ decades before a nun was shot dead in that very home by a deranged former worker.  Beyond alarmed, one finally called out “what do you want? We are calling the police.” The screech from the other side “my son was beat by a nun today and we want her out here.” The nun that answered (I believe I know who it is, but it cannot be confirmed) told the mom and uncle, to step down off the steps and that she is coming out. After a few exchanges, they couple moved back off the steps and the nun instructed another sister to lock the door behind her when she went out the door and do not call the police, there were too many officers with connection to the school and convent and she wanted to address the matter herself. The nun went down the steps. She was brave and could have stayed at the top of the steps – she was half brave and half foolish but she went, in a bathrobe and no habit on to stand eye-to-eye with the mother and uncle. The tension seemed lifted and the nun invited the mom and uncle inside – they followed. The uncle stood aside, and lit a cigarette. The nun asked him to please put it out, she flexed and he listened. Then it was her turn to listen as Peter’s mother retold the series of events. Now seated and still in the foyer, there was no concern that this would turn physical...” The nun had a ‘presence’ I was told and this reenforced my unconfirmed belief in this nun’s identity. Calmly, the 20-minute encounter was over. The mother and uncle left and within 12 hours, Sister Patricius left Lakewood, NJ as well and forever. 
But where did she go? 

Patricius became a ghost. With no place to go and no means to get there, the morning she was to leave Lakewood, she was given cash from the nun who had her leave and driven to the Lakewood bus station by a groundskeeper. She was in full habit, which may have given her some latitude in dealing for food along the way but she was instructed to go to the Mount Saint Mary in northern New Jersey. Sources say she never made it there. 

Her roots are in Ohio and it was here that folk lore says she dropped the “Sister” title and simply went back to her legal name (nuns that profess vows can change their names but their legal name remains on all public and official records, so her name change was seamless). She was once again Helen O’Connor. She may have taught school in Maryland almost certainly in West Virginia. Today should be in her 80’s. I could not just let this go; dead is dead, but memories haunt and live on. The people that are abused by Patricius are in their 50’s now and still suffer from her hands. I spoke to six of her victims and finally decided to take action.

In the summer of 2022, the Facebook page for the Saint Mary Academy alumni lit up with Sister Patricius accusations. The stories were as heart wrenching and too coincidental to the messages I was receiving in my direct message Inbox on the social media platform and in conversations I was having offline with those abused by the (then) nun. When 11 people tell similar stories, the truth emerges when patterns are formed. I believed each and every one and that, for me, is a rarity.
But what could be done? By my guess, some 50 years later, very little but being a invested as I was to the stories, I believed my only recourse was to write to the leadership of the Sisters of Mercy as well as the Diocese of Trenton since it was within that diocese that this wave of abuse had taken place. Though the Mercy Order was independent of the diocese, they were sworn to the obedience of the local bishop of the See and he (Bishop George W Ahr at the time) would certainly be made aware of any abuse circumstances within his jurisdiction. I passed my intent to write the letter to the Facebook page for the Saint Mary Academy alumni, and seemingly without objection, the following was sent with ‘return receipt requested’ to the sitting governing board of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas in Silver Spring, Maryland.

Bruce Novozinsky
REDACTED

Sister Patricia McDermott                                
Sister Patricia C. Flynn
Sister Judith Frikker
Sister Anne Marie Miller
Sister Áine O’Connor

Sisters of Mercy of the Americas
8403 Colesville Road, Suite 400
Silver Spring, MD 20910
Sisters,

My name is Bruce Novozinsky and I was a student of (then) Saint Mary Academy of Lakewood, NJ from 1968 – 1975.
I am writing on behalf of the students of that time that were alleged to have been physically and mentally abused by one Sister Mary Patricius (fka: Helen O’Conner) in the early-to-mid 1970’s – Sisters, I use “alleged” strictly in the terms of law, let me be completely candid, I believe most (I stress “most”) of those who came forward.  

The allegations are horrid and I consider myself an expert of sexual, physical and emotional abuse by members of religious communities. I have written extensively on the subject and have been called as an expert witness by trial attorneys since 2012, that this individual caused the pain and suffering that lingers decades later in a school I loved to people that I consider friends to this day, making it personal.

So, what is the “ask” here? 

The states have passed laws that have generously expanded and extended the statutes of limitations for filing formal complaints against predators; I firmly believe that Patricius/ O’Conner is one and am going to doggedly pursue her personal and professional life after she left St Mary Academy in the 1970’s. What I am asking is a face-to-face meeting with the Board of officials of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas to layout the facts of what is known to be true and what is internet fodder – I will come to you at my own expense and I will be prepared. This would beneficial to the Board in case of any alleged victims of Patricius/ O’Conner comes forward.
We believe that her last known where-about was anywhere between New Jersey and Ohio and will be filing a letter much as the same as this, via an attorney network for each state that she was known to reside after 1975 to each diocese. I firmly believe that given the current state-of-events within the RCC, giving up a nun from 50 years ago will not be an issue for them. 

I look forward to your reply and please note (in all fairness to you) that this communication will be posted on the internet on several social media outlets. 

Bruce Novozinsky 

Not surprisingly, though the letter was received by all the addressees, I received no reply. 
One October 27, 2022, I received a handwritten letter with a Silver Spring, MD postmark which read, “Mr. Novozinski (sic) the person you wrote to the Sisters of Mercy board about, is unreachable. It would seem as though she left the Order without telling anyone she was leaving the Order, except for a letter that she sent to the Mother Superior in New Jersey in the middle 1970’s. No one followed up with her because she did not leave a forwarding address and the emergency contacts in her personnel record did not reply to inquiries. Please keep in mind that at the time, the emergency contact information was limited to postal addresses. I am sorry I could not be of any more help and my sincere prayers are with those who suffered duress. I am not comfortable leaving my name and I hope you can understand.” I did not understand, but I imagine I would have to. The person who wrote this did not want to get put in a legal bind should something be litigated.

So, Helen O’Connor/ Sister Mary Patricius is in fact, a ghost. She could be living and maybe reformed; she could be dead and serving her afterlife penance. She could be reading this as we speak and wondering what HER next step should be. Sue the author, the claimants or maybe just put it away the way she did some 50 years ago. Personally, I would love for her to come forward and put up a fight against these claims because I would love to see her on the proverbial Stand. 

She is guilty. 

She is transcendent evil.