The thin, grey-haired man lurched forward, his shirtsleeved arms outstretched, his face askew with horror. With a cry of pain he pointed to a small boy in the silent group before him. "Get out!" he shouted. "Get out!"
Father Eugene O'Malley was rehearsing the Paulist Choir of Chicago's St. Mary's Church, and the sound and fury was something his 100-odd choristers took in stride. He ranged up and down the basement rehearsal hall like a restless spirit, his ears stretching for sour notes and his eyes for inattention. "Watch me!" he shouted. "If you don't watch me, you'll go flying out of...
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