“I want to talk about a man from my district. He was a priest. He worked in Taiwan. He worked with young people. Some were sad. He went to war. He did not carry a gun. He helped soldiers. He lived like them. He was wounded. He did not get treatment. He kept helping. He died. He got a medal. The church might make him a saint. His story should inspire people.”
“I am honoring Father Vincent Robert Capodanno from Staten Island. He was an unarmed Navy chaplain who died in the Vietnam War while helping wounded marines. He received the Medal of Honor, and the Catholic Church is considering him for sainthood. I hope his story inspires others.”
“Mr. Speaker, I rise today to tell a story of one of Staten Island's most extraordinary sons, Father Vincent Robert Capodanno, who 59 years ago last week gave his life in Vietnam while serving as Navy chaplain. His Medal of Honor citation tells us what he did in a moment of unimaginable danger. But to understand Father Capodanno, we must ask a deeper question: What kind of life prepares a man to walk willingly onto a battlefield under relentless fire unarmed because wounded men are coming for him? The answer began long before Vietnam. His first mission took him to Taiwan, where he served the Hakka people. He learned their language so he could know them, understand them, and better serve them. He administered the sacraments, distributed food and medicine, and cared for their spiritual and emotional needs. He worked with the youth, encouraging them throughout their scholastic challenges and achievements, some battling depression. Service was not something he summoned in one heroic moment, but it was a pattern in his entire life. He carried that same conviction to Vietnam where he carried a cross, not a gun. Father Capodanno refused to minister from a distance. He lived as the marines lived. He shared their brutal conditions because he believed he could not truly serve them without understanding their experience. He earned their trust and made their burdens his own. He prayed for them, and he comforted them. On September 4, 1967, during Operation Swift, he crossed a battlefield under relentless fire to reach wounded marines. Wounded by a mortar blast, he refused treatment, directed the corpsmen to care for the other wounded, and continued his ministry. He was killed just inches from a wounded fellow American he was trying to save. President Nixon posthumously awarded him the Medal of Honor in 1969, our Nation's highest military honor. Mr. Speaker, 20 years ago, in 2006, the Catholic Church gave him the title Servant of God, opening his path for sainthood. Father Capodanno was a priest whose faith and dedication to others led him to make the ultimate sacrifice. His last act did not create the man we honor. It revealed him. May his story inspire people from across our Nation and around the world.”
Mr. Speaker, I rise today to tell a story of one of Staten Island's most extraordinary sons, Father Vincent Robert Capodanno, who 59 years ago last week gave his life in Vietnam while serving as Navy chaplain. His Medal of Honor citation tells us what he did in a moment of unimaginable danger. But to understand Father Capodanno, we must ask a deeper question: What kind of life prepares a man to walk willingly onto a battlefield under relentless fire unarmed because wounded men are coming for him? The answer began long before Vietnam. His first mission took him to Taiwan, where he served the Hakka people. He learned their language so he could know them, understand them, and better serve them. He administered the sacraments, distributed food and medicine, and cared for their spiritual and emotional needs. He worked with the youth, encouraging them throughout their scholastic challenges and achievements, some battling depression. Service was not something he summoned in one heroic moment, but it was a pattern in his entire life. He carried that same conviction to Vietnam where he carried a cross, not a gun. Father Capodanno refused to minister from a distance. He lived as the marines lived. He shared their brutal conditions because he believed he could not truly serve them without understanding their experience. He earned their trust and made their burdens his own. He prayed for them, and he comforted them. On September 4, 1967, during Operation Swift, he crossed a battlefield under relentless fire to reach wounded marines. Wounded by a mortar blast, he refused treatment, directed the corpsmen to care for the other wounded, and continued his ministry. He was killed just inches from a wounded fellow American he was trying to save. President Nixon posthumously awarded him the Medal of Honor in 1969, our Nation's highest military honor. Mr. Speaker, 20 years ago, in 2006, the Catholic Church gave him the title Servant of God, opening his path for sainthood. Father Capodanno was a priest whose faith and dedication to others led him to make the ultimate sacrifice. His last act did not create the man we honor. It revealed him. May his story inspire people from across our Nation and around the world.