Sacristan Sam Barton (far right) meets with the 29th Superior General of the Society of Jesus, Fr. Peter Hans Kolvenbach, SJ, during his visit to Creighton University.

We Belong Here: The Story of St. John’s Church and Its People recounts the history of St. John’s, profiles its notable figures, and describes life in the parish through stories contributed by members. Across 135 pages, historic and contemporary photos depict the beauty of this 1888 landmark Gothic church, which Sarah Emily Creighton encouraged the Jesuits to build.

The excerpt below tells the story of the church’s beloved sacristan and janitor Sam Barton. We Belong Here: The Story of St. John’s Church and Its People is available at www.stjohnschurchbook.com.

Sam Barton: Extraordinary Sacristan

During his decades of service as St. John’s sacristan and janitor, Sam Barton, a tall, quiet African American, became one of the parish’s most beloved figures.

“He’ll be the first to welcome you into the sacristy at St. John’s Church and the first to tell you he’s only the janitor,” said one Jesuit.

Barton and his twin, George, came to Boys Town from an orphanage in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1922 when they were 11 years old. Six years later, Sam Barton got a job in North Omaha and joined St. Benedict the Moor Church. He admired the Jesuits’ work ethic.

“Those men cut wood, they painted, and they dug. You’d see Jesuits walk to St. Benedict’s and back to Creighton University through places I didn’t want to walk,” Barton said.

He served in the U.S. Army in India during World War II. While he was on duty in India, he and Boys Town founder Fr. Edward Flanagan corresponded. After the war, Barton returned to Omaha, where he worked as a taxi driver until 1962 when he and George both became janitors at Creighton. Sam also started helping at St. John’s.

“I cleaned up and scrubbed the church floors. I also served the Mass at 4:30 in the morning then. They called it the hunter and fisherman’s Mass,” Barton recalled.

Although Barton was paid little, he asked to have his salary reduced. Instead, Fr. John Lynch, SJ, pastor, suggested he come in about 7 a.m. for the first Mass rather than at 3:30 or 4 a.m. as he had been doing. One year when he received a $100 Christmas bonus, he donated it to the parish for Mass intentions.

Barton became sacristan in the mid-’60s, and the Jesuits suggested he wear a cassock. He removed it when people mistook him for a Jesuit brother. He also remained active in a charismatic prayer group at St. Benedict’s and sang spirituals for celebrations there. Even after Creighton held a “Sam Barton Day” honoring his service, he refused to retire.

“As long as I can do the work and they want me to stay, I’ll be here,” he said. Barton, who lived in a small room near the sacristy in St. John’s Church and took some meals with the Jesuit community, apparently never did retire. He is buried alongside the Jesuits at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery.

Longtime parishioner Fran Berg, who ironed altar cloths for Barton, recalled his funeral in 1995: “The church was full at the wake, and the Jesuits processed down the aisle singing the old spiritual ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.’”