THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, March 24, 1995 TAG: 9503230146
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: Medium: 83 lines
When it comes to ceremonies, nobody does them better than the Navy. All that red, white, blue, gold and gray is guaranteed to make the heart beat faster, the throat get tight and the eyes mist over just a bit.
Such was the case last Saturday morning when Bill and I joined hundreds of others at the Norfolk Naval Station's Pier 12 to see the USS Laboon join the Navy as a ship of the line.
In Navy parlance what we were there to witness was a commissioning ceremony, celebrating the wedding of a ship to the Navy in which she will serve.
No bride was ever any more beautiful on her wedding day than Laboon was last Saturday. Even the boxy, utilitarian lines of her sophisticated weapons system couldn't hide the fine lines of her ancestors, the lithe destroyers that for generations have surrounded and protected the much larger cruisers, carriers and battleships.
Decked out in red, white and blue bunting, signal flags snapping against a brilliant blue sky in the brisk north wind, she captured the hearts of crew and guests alike.
Laboon is not only beautiful, she is also special to many people.
Named for the late Capt. John Francis (``Father Jake'') Laboon, she is one of only a handful of American warships named for chaplains.
Among the honored guests was a large contingent of proud, spirited Laboons. Brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews were sprinkled throughout the audience.
Father Jake's brother, Father Joe, a chaplain with the Veterans Administration, gave the invocation and benediction.
Father Jake's three sisters, the ship's sponsors, gave the command that highlights all commissioning ceremonies.
Speaking joyously and in unison they ordered the ship to be manned and come alive. At their command the entire ship's company burst from behind the guests to march double time down the aisles, up the brows and down the length of the ship to stand single file, shoulder to shoulder until they manned every inch of the ship's rails.
The joy, unison and act of issuing orders appeared to come easily to the three Laboon ladies, who are sisters not only of Father Jake, but in the Catholic Church as well.
Among them, Sisters deLellis, Rosemary and Joan Laboon have racked up an impressive list of their own career achievements as teachers, administrators and human resource professionals in the Sisters of Mercy order.
Beautiful white-haired ladies, the trio and their brother, Father Joe, give a hint of the lively spirit that obviously pervaded the home of the family that produced two priests and three nuns.
Father Jake didn't start out to be a priest. In high school he was noted for his good looks and athletic ability.
Starting his college years at Carnegie Tech, now Carnegie Mellon University, he transferred to the Naval Academy just before World War II. After graduation in 1943 he trained as a submarine officer at New London and joined the crew of the USS Peto.
While on Peto he earned a silver star for swimming through mined waters under intense enemy fire to rescue a downed airman.
Only after the war did he decide to become a Jesuit priest. He returned to the Navy in the Naval Reserve Chaplain Corps in 1957 and was recalled to active duty in 1958. He saw service around the world, including a tour in Vietnam for which he received the Legion of Merit with Combat RVS for his work as a battlefield chaplain with the 3rd Marine Division.
He retired as Fleet Chaplain of U.S. Atlantic Fleet in 1980 and passed away in 1988.
There was little doubt Saturday morning that Father Jake was there in spirit as the ship bearing his name became a part of the Navy he loved.
Cardinal John O'Connor of New York, Father Jake's friend and former shipmate, had given the principal address when the ship, christened by the Laboon sisters, was launched two years ago at Maine's Bath Iron Works.
``He was both Mr. Navy and Mr. Church,'' the cardinal said in his remarks on that cold winter morning. ``He treated a seaman as respectfully as he treated an admiral.
``May you of Laboon be assured,'' O'Connor said in his benediction later that day, ``that if Father Jake has the influence in heaven that he had in the Navy, you will always be blessed with fair winds and following seas.''
There is little more that a ship of the line, a bride of the sea, could ask. by CNB