Lambs to Slaughter

In 2001, when Sam's violent tendencies landed him in a juvenile court, Doherty wrote a letter on Sam's behalf. He began by listing his curriculum vitae — his master's in divinity, psychology training at Harvard and at Loyola of Chicago, as well as counseling work at Catholic Charities and part-time private practice with Fort Lauderdale psychiatrists. He also said that over his adult life he had adopted five boys aged 6 to 12 and that all had become productive citizens.

Rescuing troubled boys was Doherty's lifelong holy mission. Sam's parents, he wrote, "can rely on me trying to be a 'good neighbor.' In this particular instance, I have become a sort of 'mentor' to their son."

The rest of the letter is full of psychological jargon about personality disorders that might be the cause of Sam's mercurial behavior and about treatments Doherty could recommend. The tone is humble, deferential, and sensitive. Doherty credits Sam's "intelligence" and calls him "a unique human being." More therapy, Doherty writes, might help Sam in "discovering and accepting his true inner self." Doherty had been happy to provide that therapy, for free.

It was the year before the sex abuse scandals erupted in the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston. To most, priests were still trustworthy figures.

In retrospect, Sam's parents and social workers might seem naïve. You can't say the same about the Catholic Archdiocese of Miami. By the time he wrote his letter about Sam, Doherty had accumulated some 30 years' worth of abuse complaints, each of which followed the same arc: A troubled boy meets Doherty for counseling and later accuses the priest of giving him drugs and then abusing him.

Sam is allegedly one of Doherty's most recent victims. By ignoring reports that Doherty was a sexual predator, the archdiocese, victims allege, made it possible for Doherty to strike again. And again.

North Miami attorney Jeffrey Herman has filed civil suits against the archdiocese on behalf of 11 of Doherty's alleged victims. Dozens of Miami archdiocese priests have been accused of sexual abuse, but none have so many victims. And considering the many boys that Doherty has counseled over the years, Herman expects that still more will surface.

If you were a parent and "your kid was having drug or behavior problems and you called the archdiocese," Herman says, "they sent your kid to Neil Doherty — which was the worst place he could go."

A native of coastal Massachusetts, Doherty moved with his family to Lake Worth in the late 1950s. After graduating high school, he enrolled in the St. John Vianney Seminary in Miami. At six foot three, Doherty made a towering figure at the altar. He seemed even taller in the vestments of a Catholic priest, with all the authority they conferred.

Before Doherty became a priest, his superiors questioned whether he had the qualities necessary to lead a parish. In June 1968, as Doherty neared his subdioconate — the order necessary to become a priest — records show that seminary officials learned of strains between Doherty and his family. They sent him to psychological counseling for his own sake and for the sake of the church. They wanted to be sure he was fit for the priesthood.

Rev. Rene H. Gracida (who would later become the chancellor of the archdiocese), was assigned to evaluate Doherty. He ruled that Doherty was "unsatisfactory." Had the archdiocese followed its own standards, Doherty would have been turned away from the priesthood then. But for reasons unclear from archdiocese records, Doherty remained on his pastoral track.

In February 1969, as Doherty approached his ordination, Gracida authored a memo that contained a grudging endorsement. "I consider Mr. Doherty a very intelligent and complex individual," he wrote. "I cannot ascribe logical reasons for my doubts concerning his fitness for ordination." Gracida cited Doherty's "late hours and heavy drinking," but he wrote that he was most worried about the young seminarian's "obsessive preoccupation with psychology." That, Gracida mused, may have been Doherty's true calling. Though he supported ordination for Doherty, Gracida attached a caveat: "I merely wish to express serious doubts as to his fitness and as to his probable chances for achieving stability and happiness in the priesthood." A few months later, in May 1969, Doherty was ordained.

Soon he'd give his church more reason for doubt. In 1971, police raided a halfway house for troubled youth in Palm Beach County, based on allegations of widespread drug use there. Doherty had a supervising role at the halfway house; he had reported nothing about drug use. But a priest who'd been assigned to share a home with Doherty in Riviera Beach, Rev. Martin Cassidy, contacted higher-ups to advise that Doherty should be kept away from drug rehabilitation facilities.

In April 1972, Cassidy made another report, informing Archbishop Coleman J. Carroll that Doherty, then 29, had legally adopted a "young adolescent" named Gary Davis and that Davis slept in Doherty's bedroom. Judging by church records produced in civil suits, Carroll, who had held his title since the archdiocese formed in 1958, did not order an investigation or take disciplinary measures against Doherty. Shortly after Cassidy reported his concerns, however, Doherty received a new assignment to St. Anthony's Church in Fort Lauderdale.

Currently under house arrest in Palm Beach County, Doherty is awaiting criminal trial on charges of sexual battery. He could not be contacted. His attorney, David Bogenschutz, declined to answer questions about Doherty's case, saying that "his side of the story will be told to a jury."

The Archdiocese of Miami did not respond to a list of questions about Doherty, citing legal concerns about pending cases. Archdiocese spokeswoman Mary Ross Agosta did furnish a statement, saying only that the archdiocese had an "on-going appeal for anyone who has been a victim of abuse by a church member to contact the archdiocese's hotline," and giving a toll-free number.

Most of the boys Doherty counseled are now men, but in the cases of complaints against the priest and the archdiocese, their identities have not been disclosed in public criminal court filings or civil suits.

One of them, whom we'll call Kevin, said he was referred to Doherty through the Catholic Services Bureau, an agency that collaborates with other social services to provide shelter and counseling for troubled children, especially those whose parents have substance-abuse problems. It's not clear from the portions of the court file available to the public how old Kevin was when he met Doherty, only that his mother was an alcoholic prone to violent rages, a source of such stress to Kevin that he had difficulty concentrating at school.

In an interview with Det. Eric Hendel of the Broward Sheriff's Office in 2005, Kevin tells of his first meeting with Doherty in 1973, the year after Doherty left Riviera Beach. Kevin was surprised that Doherty wore "sports clothes," he said, rather than the white collar and black shirt and pants priests typically wear outside church. Doherty told Kevin not to bother calling him "Father Neil," Kevin said, encouraging him to call him Gus, the name Doherty said he used with his adult friends. Kevin was even more surprised when Doherty asked if he was sexually active. "I had grown up with a rather strict Roman Catholic family," Kevin told the detective. "This, to me, was a totally new brand of priest."

The boy met with Doherty twice a week. One day, Kevin said, Doherty took out his car keys and flashed a smile. "We're going to skip a session," Kevin recalled Doherty saying. They drove to a house he remembered being "on the waterways somewhere."

Doherty opened a liquor cabinet and lit a joint. "I took a few puffs of that," said Kevin. "I was drinking bourbon. I didn't have a high tolerance at that time, so after two or three drinks I reached a point where I was getting almost ready to pass out. He directed me toward a large bedroom."

There, Kevin fell asleep, and when he awoke, "I remember feeling sexually aroused... (Doherty) was on the bed with me, performing oral sex on me."

Kevin remembered being "absolutely terrified." But he was too groggy to resist. "I was aware enough that I realized this was a priest," he said. "This was a person who had me in therapy. I was very confused and scared and stayed silent."

He told police that next, Doherty flipped him on his stomach and sodomized him.