Visions Of Mary Inspire A Catholic Community -- Alabamans Build A Big Nonprofit, A Prayerful Life

STERRETT, Ala. - A bell tolls across a serene valley and dozens of people emerge from the shade of the woods, all walking across a pasture graced with wildflowers.

Rosaries in hand, they kneel before a concrete statue of the Virgin Mary. Everyone, young and old, seems oblivious to the blazing summer sun. Their words flow like water from a spring.

"Hail Mary, full of grace," the group prays as one, "the Lord is with thee . . ."

Thousands have been drawn to this field since 1988, when a Yugoslavian visionary came to Alabama and said she saw Jesus' mother there, near a towering pine tree.

Out of that event bloomed Caritas of Birmingham, a multimillion-dollar Roman Catholic mission, where families live apart from the world. Caritas is also a religious publisher and has a travel arm, arranging charter trips to the site of a vision in Bosnia.

Under the direction of founder Terry Colafrancesco, Caritas has quietly become one of the nation's largest organizations promoting devotion to Mary. Its name means "love" or "charity" in Latin.

No TV, radio, newspapers

There are no televisions at the mission, no newspapers. The day begins at 5 a.m., and the 60 or so residents pray as a group five times daily.

Children ride bicycles and play on the 150-acre compound, the older ones watching the younger ones while their parents work. The youngsters attend a one-room school on the grounds, about 20 miles southeast of Birmingham.

Mike O'Neill, a retired FBI agent and private pilot, moved from Ohio with his small airplane, planning to do a little flying for Caritas. He is still there, six years later.

"I came down here figuring I'd do them a favor," said O'Neill. "I got the favor."

Shannon Obyrnes, 24, went to Caritas at the urging of her mother. What was supposed to be a two-month stay has stretched to more than 2 1/2 years.

"God wasn't calling me to what I was planning in my life," she said.

While virtually unknown in its Protestant-dominated home state, Caritas sends newsletters to about 220,000 people in more than 110 countries.

Contributions pay the way, along with the book sales and arranged flights to Medjugorje, a site in Bosnia where pilgrims have traveled since visions of Mary were first reported there. Caritas trips there cost $1,000 to $1,300 per person.

Donors called "Field Angels" have given Caritas everything from cash to a sawmill, which is producing lumber that will be shipped to Medjugorje for construction.

Church hierarchy not involved

Caritas members attend Mass at a nearby Catholic parish, but the church hierarchy keeps its distance. The official position of the local diocese is that Caritas members are "Catholics in good standing," but it calls the organization a tax-exempt corporation, not a ministry. The view parallels that of the Vatican, which hasn't decided what is going on in Medjugorje.

Still, there is support within the church for both the visions and Caritas. On a recent stop, a priest who last visited the valley a decade ago was surprised by what he saw.

"When I was here in 1988 there was just a field and a house with a white porch," said the Rev. Tom Weise of Phenix City, Ala. "I'm not one given to visions, (but) something is going on."

That something is God, according to Colafrancesco.

A small, wiry man with graying hair, Colafrancesco, 45, grew up in the old steel-mill neighborhoods of west Birmingham. He was raised Catholic in a Baptist world.

A landscaper by trade, he incorporated Caritas in 1987 after visiting Medjugorje. He said he was looking for a way to lead his growing family into a simpler, godly lifestyle.

"I felt there just had to be more to life than just working and fending for yourself," he said.

Visions began in Medjugorje

In Medjugorje, Colafrancesco met Marija Pavlovic Lunetti, one of six young people who, in 1981, said Mary appeared to them in a vision with a message of love and peace. The messages continued, and the little group soon had a worldwide audience.

Marija's brother needed a new kidney and Marija was a suitable donor, so Colafrancesco arranged for them to come to the University of Alabama at Birmingham transplant center.

Marija's visions continued at the Colafrancesco home, where she was staying.

Pilgrims began showing up. Thousands were there on Thanksgiving Day 1988 when Marija said she saw Mary in a pasture beside the house - the same field where Caritas residents now have group prayer.

Some visitors began to stay.

Ruth and Joan McDonald, sisters who made the trip in 1989 from Illinois, were among them. There was just something about Terry and Annette Colafrancesco and their seven children, ranging in age from 1 to 20.

Steve Littiken, a former plumbing contractor in Orlando, Fla., lives with his wife and six children at Caritas.

"I realized my primary role was to be a husband and father. I had to make some really radical changes," said Littiken, 41.

Life at Caritas is austere. Families live in gray mobile homes, and single men and women live apart from each other. Community members receive small stipends, and families are autonomous. They eat from the gardens and get milk from a few cows, but the mission isn't self-sufficient. Members make regular trips to stores.

Travel service, printing press

The centerpiece of Caritas is the stone office building, the Tabernacle of Our Lady's Messages. The $2 million structure houses BVM Pilgrimages, Caritas' travel service, along with a huge printing press and a mailing operation.

Each quarter Caritas publishes a magazine filled with passages from the Medjugorje messages and commentary.

Colafrancesco writes almost everything. One of his books, "Words from Heaven," has made nearly $1 million, he said.

"It all goes to the mission," he said.

The nonprofit corporation had $3.3 million in assets and $1.7 million in revenue in 1996, the last year for which Internal Revenue Service records were available.

Courthouse records show Colafrancesco owns more than 130 acres worth some $540,000, including the 90-acre field where the visions are said to have occurred. Colafrancesco said all the land is for Caritas: He just hasn't deeded it over.

Despite the trailers, the Colafrancesco family still lives across a road from the tabernacle in the same $108,000 home they had before Marija first visited.

"It is open to everyone in the community," Colafrancesco said. "The kids swim in the pool."

`They think we're a little touched'

Nonetheless, Caritas has its doubters.

After the Branch Davidian siege at Waco, Texas, some people questioned whether Caritas was a cult. Even Annette Colafrancesco has faced questions from her family.

"They think we're a little touched," said Mrs. Colafrancesco, raised Primitive Baptist but now a devout Catholic.

The Colafrancescos' oldest child, 20-year-old Kyle, landed in juvenile detention at age 13 following repeated brushes with the law. Two years ago he was accused of punching a girl at a party, breaking her nose.

Today, Kyle works side-by-side with his father and he kneels with everyone else during prayers. His father said the change is from living with God.

"I have one goal here: to be successful in prayer," he said. "The fruit is in your kids."