"LOVE ME, LOVE MY BOOKS" MIGHT BE THE MOTTO OF ANY author, but if I talk too much about my books, it is only that I wish you to love the man about whom all of them were written-St. Joseph. I honestly do not mean by that, that I think of myself as a worthy disciple of St. Joseph, because that is not true. In moments with myself I am almost aghast to think that my wagon has been hitched, as it were, to the star of St. Joseph. Without St. Joseph as my subject, I do not think I would have a single book on the market. The best I hope for is to be called a publicity man for St. Joseph, achieving the purpose of a publicity man to some worthwhile extent.
I was born in Cicero, Illinois, June 4, 1915; it was ten in the evening of a First Friday. My parents were the late Thomas M. Filas, a pioneer Cicero architect and builder whose ideas were two decades ahead of his time, and Emily Francis Seery, a mother who insists that her praises go unmentioned.
While in the fourth grade at parochial school, I was invited to be an acolyte. It is from this attraction to the altar as a boy that I trace my desires for the priesthood. For lack of funds I attended public high school. I had only the vaguest idea I wanted to be a priest. Between freshman and sophomore years I happened to read a newspaper advertisement for Loyola University, Chicago; and thinking in my ignorance that one had to attend Loyola to become a Jesuit, I sent a random speculative request as to what was really necessary. The late Father Joseph Reiner, S.J., told me to come down for an interview, and that was how I met my first Jesuit. At the suggestion of Father Clifford LeMay, S.J., who then took over my direction, I arranged to complete my high school in six semesters in order to have a year off to study Latin.
That year had two side jobs, both leaving strong impressions. I was hired as a garage bookkeeper who was to double as grease monkey. My talents in this field must have been unique. Within a month my employer told me that business was not good enough to warrant such noble tries (among them, mechanical efforts on a three-car "stable" kept by a west side gangster who later died of lead posioning, administered by sub-machine-gun. ) The second job lasted for even less time-laboratory boy for two weeks amid the most immoral atmosphere I ever experienced. The miasma of raw paganism that permeated this commercial laboratory was too dangerous to risk much longer, and it was rather no job than that, even during depression times.
With the whole-hearted approval of my parents and elder brother and sister, I entered the Society of Jesus at Milford, Ohio, on August 12, 1932. My first vows as a Jesuit were in 1934, followed by two years of classical studies called the Juniorate. This period saw my first literary production, a translation of a French pamphlet on the Way of the Cross, which a kindly master of novices had earlier asked me to do as a means of relieving the strain of the novitiate.