Blog: The AlleyCat Speaks
Seven Conversations on Black Catholic Memory, Brotherhood, and Hope
Inspired by a conversation with
Fr. Ken Hamilton, SVD, and James Watts
in anticipation of the
Father Chester P. Smith, SVD
National Black Catholic Men's Conference.
By Andrew Lyke
I didn’t set out to write these reflections.
I set out to produce a podcast.
The plan was simple. I had invited Fr. Ken Hamilton, SVD, and James Watts to join me on The AlleyCat Speaks for a conversation about the upcoming Father Chester P. Smith, SVD National Black Catholic Men’s Conference. We met on Zoom. We prayed together. We laughed. We remembered. We challenged one another. We told stories that stretched back decades.
When we finished, I thought I had everything I needed.
Except I didn’t.
Somewhere between the opening prayer and the final blessing, the recording failed.
Whether it was my mistake or Zoom’s, I still don’t know.
What I did have was the transcript.
At first, I was disappointed. I had imagined people hearing the warmth in Fr. Ken’s voice, James’s contagious laughter, and the easy rhythm that comes only from brothers who have walked together for years. A transcript seemed like a poor substitute.
But the more I read it, the more something unexpected happened.
I stopped hearing what we said.
I began hearing what the conversation meant.
Freed from the pace of a podcast, I found myself lingering over sentences. A passing comment became a theological insight. A memory opened into history. A laugh gave way to lament. Before long, I realized that this conversation was asking for something different.
Not an edited interview.
A series of reflections.
What began as a technical disappointment became a spiritual invitation.
The transcript forced me to slow down. To listen more carefully. To notice the wisdom hidden between the words.
Looking back, I can honestly say that if the recording had worked, these reflections probably would never have been written.
The podcast would have been heard once.
These conversations, I hope, will be read and reread for years.
Perhaps that is one of the quiet ways grace works.
Not by rescuing us from every mistake.
But by redeeming them.
So I have stopped thinking about the recording that was lost.
Instead, I have become grateful for the conversation that remains.
This series is my attempt to honor that gift.