Diminutive Monsignor Theophile Caudron arrived in Oklahoma in 1907, after his ordination in Belgium, to begin a life of service with an astounding energy and an endearing quirkiness that included 53 years as pastor of Henryetta.
He began as pastor of Langston and built a church in Okemah, then moved to his beloved Henryetta to begin his life-long tenure. Possessing an uncanny ability to coerce the maximum from money collected, his frugality was known far and wide, but he was not necessarily cheap. The Benedictine sisters that operated the school were given the princely sum of $2 (a significant total for the time) each at Christmas with the caveat that they must spend it on themselves.
Due to his concern for finances and his penny-pinching skills, he was able to build a church, school and gymnasium. Even the wealthiest parish in Tulsa did not have a gymnasium at the time. The school was his pride and joy, and he would often times arrive unannounced and begin repairing or painting during the school day, much to the delight of the students. Another concern was the temperature in the classrooms since that entailed heating costs simply stating, “Too hot,” and off went the stoves. He was also known to climb out the window of the senior hall to get to the rectory roof to repair shingles.
Father Caudron had definite opinions on almost everything. He didn’t like swimming pools, as he stated that he “wouldn’t bathe with other people why swim with them?” As for dancing, “Any damn fool can push another around.”
Funerals were seen as an opportunity to remind people of the sin of Adam, and their participation therein. Once he got particularly rambunctious when delivering his hellfire and brimstone homily that his false teeth shot from his mouth. Not missing a beat, he found them, put them back in and continued his diatribe.
Regardless of his eccentricities, it is important to point out that he served his people passionately and protected his flock when trouble was afoot. Henryetta was a mining town and housed an operating glass plant and labor disputes were numerous. Father Caudron confronted unions and companies, whoever was in the wrong, in an effort to keep families working. He was a respected and powerful presence whose sense of justice was admired even by the United Mine Workers president, John L. Lewis.
For years he harbored his unhappiness that he had not been named a Monsignor, especially with all he had accomplished. Lesser lights had received the title, why not him? He lobbied Bishop McGuinness shamelessly to ask Rome to confer the honor. His personnel file revealed that parishioners had extolled his virtue by writing letters to the bishop requesting the office for their beloved pastor. Finally in 1953, he was named a domestic prelate and was conferred the title of Monsignor. He proudly returned home to Belgium in full regalia and is said to have beamed with happiness.
Sister Marie Mundell, whose musings in a 1979 “Sooner Catholic” article were the basis for some of this story, recalled when she was transferred to a school in Tulsa after eight years in Henryetta, “The sensitive, provocative qualities of the big little man were visible in his parting words. ‘Ya, Sister,’ he said, waving his hand and looking proudly over his accomplishments, ‘have you ever seen such a ting? But we are only small potatoes here in Henryetta.’ Then with his chest swelling and his 5’4” stretching to almost 5’8” he added, ‘But tell me frankly, can any big potato in Tulsa match this?’”
Despite never serving in a city parish, Theophile Caudron was anything but a small potato.