USD Magazine, Fall 2002

"Bur he made up his mind to do ir," booms his father, Leon, from rhe chair, who fittingly enough for a father of a priest was a fisherman (and who now attends church regularly) . "He was a good priest. We knew he was doing a good job, bur we had no idea it would lead to chis. " Growing up under rhe cloud of Vietnam, Cordi leone considered rwo distinctly opposite career paths - a

vicar for the San Diego diocesean court, which handles annulments and other church– related cases, rhen worked as a parish priest in Calexico for four years before being called to Rome again - chis rime as a member of rhe Vatican's Apostolic Signarura, the highest judicial court in the church. In Rome he helped set up and monitor church tribunals across the globe. While

house near San Diego Scare University. He couldn't wait for Sundays, when dozens of Italian relatives crowded aro und a dinner cable crammed with platters of pasta and chicken, speaking

to him in rhe beautiful cadence of their native tongue.

He was like most boys growing up in San D iego's suburbs during rhe 1970s. He

Cordileone once considered a career in music.

peddled his bike delivering papers ro earn pocket money, dreamed of playing in a band, went steady with his gi rl– friend. On the surface, there wasn't much char indicated young Salvato re - whom everyone called Sam - would someday become a priest. Bur there were signs. On school nights, his mother, Mary, had co call rhe old fo lks on his newspaper route and ask chem co send her son home, because he lost track of rime visiting with chem to chase away their blues. He loved jazz, nor the era's hard rock, and rook up rhe saxo– phone. He brought his gi rlfri end co his neighborhood parish, eventually helping her convert to Catholicism, a religion he found both comfo rting and fascinating. And always, there was an underlying current of fairness in his actions. "Sam was a sensitive chi ld who related to everyone, and he always went by the book on everything," says Mary, perched on rhe couch surro unded by photos of her kids and grandkids. Her 96-year-old Italian mother sirs opposite, silently smiling at her memo– ries of the grandson she watched grow up. "He went with me to church and he always wan red to si r up front so he could see what the priest was doing. When he came home halfway through his first year at San Diego Stare and said he wanted co enter the seminary at USD," Mary adds, nodding coward an easy chair across the living room for emphasis, "I said, 'What? Your father doesn't even go to church."'

musician or a Naval officer. "I knew I wanted to make a difference, and I knew I didn't want to dedicate myself to material things," he says. "Now char I look back, I guess I was religiously inclined as a young man, although I probably didn't chink so at rhe rime. I found catechism classes interesting, bur you didn't want to cell anyone char, especially when you're a boy." While deciding his future after high school, Cordileone attended a retreat at rhe Sr. Francis Seminary at Alcala Park. He learned char joining the seminary was a step coward a vocation, nor an all-or-nothing proposition. Like most who consider rhe priesthood, Cordileone was struggling with the issues of celibacy and loneliness. "I remember he came to me and asked me if rhe priesthood was a lonely life," says the Rev. James Poulsen '65, who at the rime was associate pastor of Blessed Sacrament Church, Cordileone's neighborhood parish. "I cold him being alone doesn't mean you're lonely - char I knew lonelier people who are married. My life is so filled with ministry, I cold him I actually welcome chose moments alone. " Cordileone says rhe seminary provided him with his undergraduate degree in philosophy, the opportunity to be a regular college student ar Alcala Park, and the rime to reAecr on whether joining the priesthood was the right decision for him. Before becom– ing a seminarian, he considered marriage to his high school sweetheart.

serving on rhe San Diego tribunal, he prima– rily officiated over ann ulments, bur did serve as a judge on one penal case he says is similar co chose char are now publicized. Cordileone anticipates he may be involved in preliminary investigations into any new abuse claims, older cases char are reopened, or he may be asked co serve in a decision– making role once investigations are completed. Those who know him say char whatever he is asked to do, he wi ll rake it to heart. "He is very focused and has a sense of pur– pose to his life," says rhe Rev. Larry Purcell '62, rector of Sr. Francis when Cordileone was a semmanan . "Right now I'm quire a bit more at peace wi th it than I was a few months ago," Cordi leone says. "I chink everyone is expect– ing a lot (from me), bur I've received a lot of support from my friends and fami ly. " Signs of a Vocation Family is key to Cordileone's vocation. He grew up the third of four kids in a small

"SAM WAS ASENSITIVE CHILD WHO REIATED AND HE ALWAYS WENT BY THE BOO!( ON -MARY CORDILEONE

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