Mich. priest, 94, has no intentions of retiring

• 'Father Tony' has worked at his parish since 1946
• Is motorcyclist, hunter and ham radio operator
• Has lost count of how many confessions he's heard

FLINT, Mich. -- Msgr. Anthony Majchrowski usually goes to bed at 9 p.m., but his birthday, which falls on Christmas Eve, is an exception.

Majchrowski, who was named monsignor earlier this year, stays up to celebrate midnight mass at All Saints Catholic Church in Flint, where he serves as pastor. Then he locks up the church, catches some sleep and gets up for Christmas Day service about three hours later.

"I just keep going," he said.

Majchrowski — the oldest actively working priest in Michigan — turned 94 Monday and said he has no plans to retire.

"I only have one lifetime to give to the Lord," Majchrowski said from the rectory attached to All Saints, where he lives.

Bishop Earl Boyea Jr. of Lansing, Mich., called Majchrowski "one of the saints at All Saints parish."

He said Majchrowski — the longest-serving pastor in the Lansing Diocese, known as Father Tony — is humble and hardworking.

Majchrowski is devoted to his parish and parishioners, said Genevieve Tomaszewski, who has worked as the church secretary and bookkeeper for almost 40 years.

"If they're in need spiritually," she said, "he's there for them."

And as long as Majchrowski has his health, which he asks the Lord for daily, he pledged to keep working.

"I hope to die in my boots," he said.

There was a time — very early on — in Majchrowski's life when he thought about being a firefighter or a police officer, but by the time he was in third grade, his mind was made up. He wanted to be a priest.

Born in Flint the third of five children, he was drawn to offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, forgiveness of sins and administering to the sick and dying, even as a child.

"I thought that was tremendous," he said.

Majchrowski attended All Saints Catholic Church and also went to grade school at All Saints' school, which no longer exists.

He was ordained a priest on June 3, 1944, and spent a year as an associate pastor at St. Mary Cathedral in Lansing before being transferred to All Saints in 1946.

"I could have fallen over," he said when he found out where he was going. "Never heard of a priest going back to his own home parish."

A priest was ill and they needed help, he recalled. Majchrowski asked whether the move was temporary, and Bishop Joseph Albers rubbed his hands and told him, "We'll see."

That was 66 years ago.

He has worked at the church — where about 260 families currently attend — since.

"The whole church is his family," said Rose Cumpata. The 83-year-old from Flushing, Mich., said she has known Majchrowski her whole life.

"He's just a marvelous man."

Majchrowski has experienced many changes over the years.

In 1957, All Saints broke ground on the current building. It opened in 1958, and he was appointed pastor.

He recalled saying mass in Latin earlier in his career, but said that changed in the 1960s.

Up until about six or seven years ago, he had a housekeeper who cooked for him. Now he has taken over. Sloppy joes and hot dogs with onions are regulars on the menu.

When he was growing up, businesses were closed on Sundays, except for pharmacies, he recalled.

"If you needed a quart of milk, you could get it at the drugstore," he said.

Majchrowski, a motorcycle enthusiast, has seen most of the U.S. on two wheels.

In 1995, he converted his Honda Goldwing bike into a trike, giving him two wheels in back and one in front.

"When I get off the bike, I don't have to balance anymore," Majchrowski said.

He still rides it and tallied 33 miles on his motorcycle this year driving on the church parking lot.

His other passions include sailing, hunting and being an amateur radio operator — his call letters are W8QXL. For 57 consecutive years, Majchrowski went deer hunting on Beaver Island, but he stopped about two years ago.

"I'd still be going up there, but I can't get a priest to replace me for a week," he said. "I can always get one for a Sunday, but not for a whole week."

In 1944, when Majchrowski was ordained, there were 113 priests in the Lansing Diocese, and now there are 87, diocese spokesman Michael Diebold said. In 1971 the diocese shrank from 15 counties to 10.

Over the years, Majchrowski has slowed down. He broke his left leg earlier this year and uses guardrails, a walker or help from others to get upstairs.

His hearing also has faded, which Majchrowski said may be partially because of motorcycle riding.

"In those days, they didn't say anything about earplugs," he said.

If Majchrowski was to retire, All Saints would become a cluster parish and tie in with another church in some way, he said. But that doesn't play into his decision to keep working.

"I couldn't picture myself retired sitting around all day looking at a boob tube or out the window," Majchrowski said.

Majchrowski is not sure how many confessions he has heard over the decades, but he listens to them nearly every day.

"I never kept count," he said.

He joked that the thought of retiring has crossed his mind — at 5 a.m., when his alarm goes off.

He is in church by 5:30 a.m. and celebrates mass at 7 a.m. Monday through Saturday. Then it's breakfast and spending time in the office or visiting sick people. He drives his 1988 Chevrolet Blazer, which he joked used to be white but is now two-tone because of the rust spots.

"I'm happy being a priest and wouldn't want to be anything else," he said.

He made that clear in 1986 when he wrote to Bishop Kenneth Povish.

"I am happy to inform you that that I am perfectly satisfied with my present assignment until death do us part," Majchrowski wrote.