Across the country, white ethnics have fled cities for suburbs. But many have stayed in their old neighborhoods. When the busing crisis erupted in Boston in the 1970s, Catholics were in the forefront of resistance. Jews, 70,000 of whom had lived in Roxbury and Dorchester in the early 1950s, were invisible during the crisis. They were silent because they departed the city more quickly and more thoroughly than Boston's Catholics. Only scattered Jews remained in Dorchester and Roxbury by the mid-1970s. In telling the story of why the Jews left and the Catholics stayed, Gerald Gamm places neighborhood institutions--churches, synagogues, community centers, schools--at its center. He challenges the long-held assumption that bankers and real estate agents were responsible for the rapid Jewish exodus. Rather, according to Gamm, basic institutional rules explain the strength of Catholic attachments to neighborhood and the weakness of Jewish attachments. Because they are rooted, territorially defined, and hierarchical, parishes have frustrated the urban exodus of Catholic families. And because their survival was predicated on their portability and autonomy, Jewish institutions exacerbated the Jewish exodus. Gamm shows that the dramatic transformation of urban neighborhoods began not in the 1950s or 1960s, but in the 1920s. Not since Anthony Lukas's Common Ground has there been a book that so brilliantly explores not just Boston's dilemma but the roots of the American urban crisis.

"The Faithful Departed" traces the rise and fall of the Catholic Church in Boston, showing how the Massachusetts experience set a pattern that echoed throughout the United States as religious institutions lost influence in the face of rising secularization.

Strange as it may seem today, until 1780 it was illegal to practice Catholicism in Massachusetts, and even then scarcely tolerated, the first public Mass not being celebrated until eight years later. By 1808, so much progress had been made that Pope Pius VII created the Diocese of Boston, which then encompassed all of New England. The community continued to grow throughout the 19th century and by the early 20th century was a significant part of the Boston community. The Catholic community had come of age, from newcomers with customs often perceived as strange, to being ever present at public events and in local, state, and national politics. This book traces the evolution of the Catholic community and its relationship with the larger Boston community, from its very humble beginnings in the 18th century through the death of Card. Richard J. Cushing in 1970.

In this engaging work, now available in paperback, Thomas H. O'Connor chronicles the activities, achievements, and failures of the Church's leaders and parishioners over the course of two centuries.

In 2004 the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston announced plans to close more than eighty churches. Distraught parishioners occupied several of these buildings in opposition to the decrees. Seitz tells the stories of these resisting Catholics in their own words, illuminating how they were drawn to reconsider the past and its meanings.

"Herein, we bring you to sites that have been central to the lives of 'the people' of Greater Boston over four centuries. You'll visit sites associated with the area's indigenous inhabitants and with the individuals and movements who sought to abolish slavery, to end war, challenge militarism, and bring about a more peaceful world, to achieve racial equity, gender justice, and sexual liberation, and to secure the rights of workers. We take you to some well-known sites, but more often to ones far off the well-beaten path of the Freedom Trail, to places in Boston's outlying neighborhoods. We also visit sites in numerous other municipalities that make up the Greater Boston region-from places such as Lawrence, Lowell and Lynn to Concord and Plymouth. The sites to which we do 'travel' include homes given that people's struggles, activism, and organizing sometimes unfold, or are even birthed in many cases in living rooms and kitchens. Trying to capture a place as diverse and dynamic as Boston is highly challenging. (One could say that about any 'big' place.) We thus want to make clear that our goal is not to be comprehensive, or to 'do justice' to the region. Given the constraints of space and time as well as the limitations of knowledge--both our own and what is available in published form--there are many important sites, cities, and towns that we have not included. Thus, in exploring scores of sites across Boston and numerous municipalities, our modest goal is to paint a suggestive portrait of the greater urban area that highlights its long-contested nature. In many ways, we merely scratch the region's surface--or many surfaces--given the multiple layers that any one place embodies. In writing about Greater Boston as a place, we run the risk of suggesting that the city writ-large has some sort of essence. Indeed, the very notion of a particular place assumes intrinsic characteristics and an associated delimited space. After all, how can one distinguish one place from another if it has no uniqueness and is not geographically differentiated? Nonetheless, geographer Doreen Massey insists that we conceive of places as progressive, as flowing over the boundaries of any particular space, time, or society; in other words, we should see places as processual or ever-changing, as unbounded in that they shape and are shaped by other places and forces from without, and as having multiple identities. In exploring Greater Boston from many venues over 400 years, we embrace this approach. That said, we have to reconcile this with the need to delimit Greater Boston--for among other reasons, simply to be in a position to name it and thus distinguish it from elsewhere"--

When Jim Wahlberg went to prison the second time at 22 years old, he was sentenced to six to nine years for breaking and entering, bargained down from life for home invasion. He had staggered into a Boston cop’s apartment, helping himself to the sellable stuff and all the beer in the fridge. The cop came home, found Jim passed out at the kitchen table, beat the hell out of him, and arrested him. But Wahlberg, a 130-pound kid from Dorchester, had learned some things from his life on the street and his first prison sentence. He knew how to survive. And he knew that if he wanted to avoid serving the full sentence, he would have to do something. He did what he was best at: He hustled. He would create the illusion that he was trying to change, that he’d become the model prisoner, not a guy hell-bent on getting out while he was still young enough to drink more, steal more, and do more drugs. He didn’t know, though, that the Catholic priest he was trying to hustle was actually hustling him. The Big Hustle is the story of a redeemed life and a family’s healing. This is the no-holds-barred, unvarnished, and sometimes brutal true story of Jim Wahlberg, the fifth of nine kids growing up in a working-class Irish Catholic neighborhood outside of Boston, hustling for attention any way he could get it, which led him to the biggest hustle of his life. Against all odds he got clean, he got out, and he got the girl. Jim dedicated his new life as a former addict to working with addicts, and for years has spread the word that recovery is possible. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next. His discovery that his own son was an addict threw Jim into a crisis—one that led him deeper into his faith and led to healing he never thought possible. This book is a testament to God’s power and an invitation to all of us to hope in the darkest places. About the Author Jim is the fifth oldest Wahlberg. Like his brothers Donny and Mark, Jim recovered from his tough upbringing in the streets of Dorchester to become producer, writer, and director of films, including The Circle of Addiction, What About the Kids?, and The Lookalike. Jim is the executive director of the Mark Wahlberg Youth Foundation, created to improve the quality of life for inner city youth through a working partnership with other youth organizations. Jim and his wife live in South Florida and have three children.