Faithful Servants
Celebrating the lives and legacies of our senior priests

Msgr. Edward Surwilo

Fr. James Grosso

Fr. Bob Uzzilio

Msgr. Robert Crofut

Msgr. John Sabia

Msgr. Edward Surwilo

Fr. James Grosso

Fr. Bob Uzzilio

Msgr. Robert Crofut

Msgr. John Sabia
“The people make the priest. They call us to do what we’re called to do by Christ… And their affirmation keeps us going.”
Msgr. Edward Surwilo
61 years as a priest
When Monsignor Edward Surwilo was a newly ordained priest, he anointed a woman who had been in a car crash near his rectory in the early hours of the morning. Then, he went back to sleep. Forty-five years later, his mother met the woman’s daughter, who remembered the name Surwilo with gratitude. “That was a message to me: we don’t know what good is happening through us,” says Msgr. Surwilo.
Reflecting on fifty years of ministry in the Stamford area—where he also grew up—the 88-year-old priest says that the main theme is presence: “I was always present to people’s lives. I was very available,” he said. As chaplain for Stamford Catholic High School for ten years, then pastor of Our Lady, Star of the Sea (OLSS) for thirty, he got to witness countless milestones in the same families, from baptisms to weddings to funerals—once, even officiating all three for the same person.
Funerals stand out to the retired priest, particularly those for the victims of untimely deaths. One family lost two sons as teenagers: one to cancer, another to a car accident. Msgr. Surwilo supported the family through both tragedies. He remembers visiting the first son in the hospital and giving him a badge with an emblem of the Holy Spirit. “People don’t forget those things,” he says. “I was there, that’s all. But that means a lot.”
Of course, he attributes all the good he has done to Christ, and to his flock: “The people make the priest. They call us to do what we’re called to do by Christ. They are responsible for our priestly formation and growth, by asking us to do those things, even when we’re tired. And their affirmation keeps us going.”
Even in retirement—and after an open-heart surgery—Surwilo keeps going. He serves as the chaplain of the Stamford Knights of Columbus, celebrates Mass at several parishes each week, and substitutes for the current pastor at OLSS when he travels. He also continues to celebrate funeral Masses upon request. He says, “I’m retired, but I’m still working!”
Msgr. Edward Surwilo
When Monsignor Edward Surwilo was a newly ordained priest, he anointed a woman who had been in a car crash near his rectory in the early hours of the morning. Then, he went back to sleep. Forty-five years later, his mother met the woman’s daughter, who remembered the name Surwilo with gratitude. “That was a message to me: we don’t know what good is happening through us,” says Msgr. Surwilo.
Reflecting on fifty years of ministry in the Stamford area—where he also grew up—the 88-year-old priest says that the main theme is presence: “I was always present to people’s lives. I was very available,” he said. As chaplain for Stamford Catholic High School for ten years, then pastor of Our Lady, Star of the Sea (OLSS) for thirty, he got to witness countless milestones in the same families, from baptisms to weddings to funerals—once, even officiating all three for the same person.
Funerals stand out to the retired priest, particularly those for the victims of untimely deaths. One family lost two sons as teenagers: one to cancer, another to a car accident. Msgr. Surwilo supported the family through both tragedies. He remembers visiting the first son in the hospital and giving him a badge with an emblem of the Holy Spirit. “People don’t forget those things,” he says. “I was there, that’s all. But that means a lot.”
Of course, he attributes all the good he has done to Christ, and to his flock: “The people make the priest. They call us to do what we’re called to do by Christ. They are responsible for our priestly formation and growth, by asking us to do those things, even when we’re tired. And their affirmation keeps us going.”
Even in retirement—and after an open-heart surgery—Surwilo keeps going. He serves as the chaplain of the Stamford Knights of Columbus, celebrates Mass at several parishes each week, and substitutes for the current pastor at OLSS when he travels. He also continues to celebrate funeral Masses upon request. He says, “I’m retired, but I’m still working!”
“The people make the priest. They call us to do what we’re called to do by Christ… And their affirmation keeps us going.”
“All my assignments were wonderful experiences. I can’t think of one where I wasn’t happy.”
Fr. James Grosso
In 1960, when James Grosso was seven years old, his family moved to Stamford and joined St. Leo parish, which was just being founded. Forty-three years later, he would become the pastor.
“If anyone had told me in the sixties that one day I would be the pastor of St. Leo’s, I wouldn’t have believed it,” says Fr. Grosso.
To the now-retired priest, there’s something beautiful about pastoring people whose parents and grandparents he knew as a child. “I used to tell a joke at St. Leo’s: if you’ve been in this parish long enough, I can tell you who your grandmother went to the prom with!” he quips.
St. Leo’s was his last and longest assignment, after working at several other parishes all over the Diocese of Bridgeport. Reflecting on his years of ministry, Fr. Grosso uses the word “fun” often: living and working with his brother priests, interacting with the faithful, and providing the sacraments are all enjoyable to him.
“All my assignments were wonderful experiences,” he says. “I can’t think of one where I wasn’t happy.”
Fr. Grosso has been retired for two years now and lives at the Queen of the Clergy Residence. He says priests in the diocese of Bridgeport are lucky to have this option. “Many dioceses don’t have a wonderful place like this where we can go to be together and help each other. In difficult times or when we’re having health issues, we’re there for each other,” says Grosso. “It’s an absolute blessing. I’m very grateful to the people who have made that possible.”
Another blessing of retirement? Freedom from the administrative tasks of being a pastor, which gives him more time to provide the sacraments. Fr. Grosso still goes out to several parishes for Mass, confessions, baptisms, funerals, and weddings. He says with a smile, “I still do all the fun parts of being a priest!”
Fr. James Grosso
In 1960, when James Grosso was seven years old, his family moved to Stamford and joined St. Leo parish, which was just being founded. Forty-three years later, he would become the pastor.
“If anyone had told me in the sixties that one day I would be the pastor of St. Leo’s, I wouldn’t have believed it,” says Fr. Grosso.
To the now-retired priest, there’s something beautiful about pastoring people whose parents and grandparents he knew as a child. “I used to tell a joke at St. Leo’s: if you’ve been in this parish long enough, I can tell you who your grandmother went to the prom with!” he quips.
St. Leo’s was his last and longest assignment, after working at several other parishes all over the Diocese of Bridgeport. Reflecting on his years of ministry, Fr. Grosso uses the word “fun” often: living and working with his brother priests, interacting with the faithful, and providing the sacraments are all enjoyable to him.
“All my assignments were wonderful experiences,” he says. “I can’t think of one where I wasn’t happy.”
Fr. Grosso has been retired for two years now and lives at the Queen of the Clergy Residence. He says priests in the diocese of Bridgeport are lucky to have this option. “Many dioceses don’t have a wonderful place like this where we can go to be together and help each other. In difficult times or when we’re having health issues, we’re there for each other,” says Grosso. “It’s an absolute blessing. I’m very grateful to the people who have made that possible.”
Another blessing of retirement? Freedom from the administrative tasks of being a pastor, which gives him more time to provide the sacraments. Fr. Grosso still goes out to several parishes for Mass, confessions, baptisms, funerals, and weddings. He says with a smile, “I still do all the fun parts of being a priest!”
“All my assignments were wonderful experiences. I can’t think of one where I wasn’t happy.”
“Pray for us priests. And take a stand for the Gospel, especially for the poor and immigrants. Words of encouragement help, but even more, it helps to see a witness.”
Fr. Bob Uzzilio
Father Bob Uzzilio “retired” nearly fifteen years ago, but he is still hard at work. Every Saturday, at St. Aloysius parish where he resides, he hears many confessions.
“I find great consolation and joy in being available for the Sacrament of Reconciliation,” says the 90-year-old priest.
Fr. Uzzilio’s background makes him a good confessor. As a new priest and member of the Salesian order, he earned a masters in counseling. Later, after transferring to the Diocese of Bridgeport, he attended a workshop on the Sacrament of Reconciliation that formed how he sees the confessor’s role: “Confession is a sacrament of forgiveness, but also of healing.”
During confession, he listens for words and phrases that indicate an emotional wound in the penitent, then asks questions to uncover the wound. Several times, he has been rewarded with a note or message from someone who confessed to him, saying they experienced healing they didn’t know they needed. “That’s one of my greatest joys,” says Fr. Uzzilio.
Another great joy was his involvement in the Worldwide Marriage Encounter movement. Early in his time in the diocese, he met a wonderful family who got him involved in providing marriage retreats. On top of his official assignment, Fr. Uzzilio traveled widely, even to Europe and Africa, for marriage retreats. “I didn’t get a day off for years,” he says, “but those were the best years of my life.”
At another time, Fr. Uzzilio stumbled into giving retreats for priests through the Institute for Priestly Formation. Someone from the Institute initially contacted him because of a mistaken identity, but Fr. Uzzilio rose to the occasion. “I guess I was given a grace of availability,” he says.
Uzzilio’s love for reconciliation shines through when he looks at the state of the world today: “It’s hard for American priests who are working in a very divisive culture. It’s hard to preach the Gospel message, especially the message of forgiveness.”
But, Uzzilio says that lay people can help: “Pray for us priests. And take a stand for the Gospel, especially for the poor and immigrants. Words of encouragement help, but even more, it helps to see a witness.”
Meanwhile, Fr. Uzzilio will keep hearing confessions, offering healing to one person at a time: “I see that as my ministry now.”
Fr. Bob Uzzilio
Father Bob Uzzilio “retired” nearly fifteen years ago, but he is still hard at work. Every Saturday, at St. Aloysius parish where he resides, he hears many confessions.
“I find great consolation and joy in being available for the Sacrament of Reconciliation,” says the 90-year-old priest.
Fr. Uzzilio’s background makes him a good confessor. As a new priest and member of the Salesian order, he earned a masters in counseling. Later, after transferring to the Diocese of Bridgeport, he attended a workshop on the Sacrament of Reconciliation that formed how he sees the confessor’s role: “Confession is a sacrament of forgiveness, but also of healing.”
During confession, he listens for words and phrases that indicate an emotional wound in the penitent, then asks questions to uncover the wound. Several times, he has been rewarded with a note or message from someone who confessed to him, saying they experienced healing they didn’t know they needed. “That’s one of my greatest joys,” says Fr. Uzzilio.
Another great joy was his involvement in the Worldwide Marriage Encounter movement. Early in his time in the diocese, he met a wonderful family who got him involved in providing marriage retreats. On top of his official assignment, Fr. Uzzilio traveled widely, even to Europe and Africa, for marriage retreats. “I didn’t get a day off for years,” he says, “but those were the best years of my life.”
At another time, Fr. Uzzilio stumbled into giving retreats for priests through the Institute for Priestly Formation. Someone from the Institute initially contacted him because of a mistaken identity, but Fr. Uzzilio rose to the occasion. “I guess I was given a grace of availability,” he says.
Uzzilio’s love for reconciliation shines through when he looks at the state of the world today: “It’s hard for American priests who are working in a very divisive culture. It’s hard to preach the Gospel message, especially the message of forgiveness.”
But, Uzzilio says that lay people can help: “Pray for us priests. And take a stand for the Gospel, especially for the poor and immigrants. Words of encouragement help, but even more, it helps to see a witness.”
Meanwhile, Fr. Uzzilio will keep hearing confessions, offering healing to one person at a time: “I see that as my ministry now.”
“Pray for us priests. And take a stand for the Gospel, especially for the poor and immigrants. Words of encouragement help, but even more, it helps to see a witness.”
“A little gentleness can go a long way when people are hurting.”
Msgr. Robert Crofut
53 years as a priest
When Monsignor Robert Crofut reflects on his fifty-three years as a priesthood, he acknowledges that the vocation requires sacrifice.
His ministry included many assignments—most five years long, some ten. He shared that it’s difficult for a priest to become comfortable in a parish and then have to move on. “I’m an only child, so especially once you lose your parents, the parish becomes even more of a family,” he says. Though he found it hard at times to leave and take a new position, his attitude was, “If there’s a need, I’ll go.”
Msgr. Crofut feels God was able to use him to impact people, particularly in times of sickness and death. “Some people are unchurched, and hopefully you can bring them back,” he says. “A little gentleness can go a long way when they’re hurting.”
The seventy-nine-year-old priest is grateful for the chance to live at the Queen of the Clergy Residence. “The staff is phenomenal,” he said. And living with his fellow priests provides a sense of community. “In retirement, it becomes important to have some type of connection,” he said.
Just as the priesthood requires sacrifice, Msgr. Crofut gratefully acknowledges that this community is only possible because of the sacrifice of the people. “After twenty-five years, you can imagine how many priests have come through here or spent their final days here, and hopefully, it will continue,” he says.
Msgr. Crofut had to retire several years ago because of worsening arthritis, but he remains as active as he can be. He celebrates Mass regularly for the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Watermark and the lay people who attend their chapel. But sometimes, he says, his ministry is just to be a listening ear for someone who calls.
“When I wake up in the morning now as a retired priest, I say, ‘Lord, there’s a lot of things I can’t do now. Just show me what you want me to do today.’”
Msgr. Robert Crofut
When Monsignor Robert Crofut reflects on his fifty-three years as a priesthood, he acknowledges that the vocation requires sacrifice.
His ministry included many assignments—most five years long, some ten. He shared that it’s difficult for a priest to become comfortable in a parish and then have to move on. “I’m an only child, so especially once you lose your parents, the parish becomes even more of a family,” he says. Though he found it hard at times to leave and take a new position, his attitude was, “If there’s a need, I’ll go.”
Msgr. Crofut feels God was able to use him to impact people, particularly in times of sickness and death. “Some people are unchurched, and hopefully you can bring them back,” he says. “A little gentleness can go a long way when they’re hurting.”
The seventy-nine-year-old priest is grateful for the chance to live at the Queen of the Clergy Residence. “The staff is phenomenal,” he said. And living with his fellow priests provides a sense of community. “In retirement, it becomes important to have some type of connection,” he said.
Just as the priesthood requires sacrifice, Msgr. Crofut gratefully acknowledges that this community is only possible because of the sacrifice of the people. “After twenty-five years, you can imagine how many priests have come through here or spent their final days here, and hopefully, it will continue,” he says.
Msgr. Crofut had to retire several years ago because of worsening arthritis, but he remains as active as he can be. He celebrates Mass regularly for the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Watermark and the lay people who attend their chapel. But sometimes, he says, his ministry is just to be a listening ear for someone who calls.
“When I wake up in the morning now as a retired priest, I say, ‘Lord, there’s a lot of things I can’t do now. Just show me what you want me to do today.’”
“A little gentleness can go a long way when people are hurting.”
“Be with your people. Be a model for them. I was always out there…I felt like one of the apostles.”
Msgr. John Sabia
When asked about the fruits of his priestly ministry, Monsignor John Sabia points to vocations: while he was pastor of St. Jude parish in Monroe, five young men from the church became priests, and three young women became sisters.
“I often tell the younger pastors, ‘Be with your people. Be a model for them,’” says Sabia. “I was always out there. When there was a celebration in the parish, I was there. I felt like one of the apostles.”
In addition to the consecrated vocations, Sabia feels he impacted many lay families in the parish. The proof? They stay in touch with him, even eleven years into his retirement.
“When they grow up and get married, they want me to do their weddings. When there’s a first Communion in their family, they want me at the party,” he says.
Of course, the life of a priest isn’t all celebrations. “Many priests pray the Divine Office every day, recite their Rosary every day, and just try to walk with Jesus,” says the Monsignor. “I want to grow closer to Jesus every day, and I hope people will see that.”
The ninety-one-year-old priest says he never really wanted to retire. He was allowed to stay active longer than most priests, but as he was turning eighty, he finally stepped down as pastor. Still, he continues to celebrate Mass every Sunday at St. Matthew parish, even after suffering two strokes. He says “retirement” is a misnomer: “I’m still very active.”
He is grateful to family members who initially took him in upon retirement. But, as they passed away, and his niece needed to sell the family home, he was grateful to move to the Queen of the Clergy residence.
Reflecting on decades of work as a priest, Sabia has just one hope for his flock: “I hope I was part of their life, and I hope I inspired them to really try to get closer to Jesus.”
Msgr. John Sabia
When asked about the fruits of his priestly ministry, Monsignor John Sabia points to vocations: while he was pastor of St. Jude parish in Monroe, five young men from the church became priests, and three young women became sisters.
“I often tell the younger pastors, ‘Be with your people. Be a model for them,’” says Sabia. “I was always out there. When there was a celebration in the parish, I was there. I felt like one of the apostles.”
In addition to the consecrated vocations, Sabia feels he impacted many lay families in the parish. The proof? They stay in touch with him, even eleven years into his retirement.
“When they grow up and get married, they want me to do their weddings. When there’s a first Communion in their family, they want me at the party,” he says.
Of course, the life of a priest isn’t all celebrations. “Many priests pray the Divine Office every day, recite their Rosary every day, and just try to walk with Jesus,” says the Monsignor. “I want to grow closer to Jesus every day, and I hope people will see that.”
The ninety-one-year-old priest says he never really wanted to retire. He was allowed to stay active longer than most priests, but as he was turning eighty, he finally stepped down as pastor. Still, he continues to celebrate Mass every Sunday at St. Matthew parish, even after suffering two strokes. He says “retirement” is a misnomer: “I’m still very active.”
He is grateful to family members who initially took him in upon retirement. But, as they passed away, and his niece needed to sell the family home, he was grateful to move to the Queen of the Clergy residence.
Reflecting on decades of work as a priest, Sabia has just one hope for his flock: “I hope I was part of their life, and I hope I inspired them to really try to get closer to Jesus.”
