John Daraban shares his testimony of being a soul so far gone to the point of extreme hopelessness, led back onto the path of Christ through visions at St. Lawrence, an appearance from the Blessed Mother and Solanus Casey.

(00:10) The narrator gives a preface to the story being shared on the Detroit Stories podcast, accrediting the production and hard work all to John Daraban, who will be sharing his testimony.

(2:02) John describes what his home life and faith life looked like in his early upbringing. From his brother’s diverging interests of the faith to sharing his break up with a high school sweetheart, he walks the listeners through the history of his early years.

(04:29) The narrator tells how John’s brother Rick begins to turn his life around for his son, Cody. Tragically, John gets into a devastating car accident, losing his brother Rick, and begins to cling to destructive coping mechanisms. This leads to the destruction of a mentally, physically and spiritually healthy life.

(06:14) As the drugs began to take over, John’s soul became more and more lost. He began tirelessly searching for something to give meaning to his life, but looking in the wrong places--the bottom of a bottle, or the next high. He quickly began to lose everything, submitting to self-induced homelessness as his addiction habits became more demanding.

(08:09) The narrator introduces an intense spiritual experience John has one freezing night spent homeless. John’s life was spared that night and he had a vision that he was inside of St. Lawrence's church. Although he had never been there or even knew how to get there, his heart yearned to find a way and live “to be more.”

(10:54) John’s first impactful spiritual experience led him to desire sobriety, struggling to control his addictions in AA for three to five years. He needed something greater to help him overcome these struggles. One night spent at his parents’ home, The Blessed Mother appeared to him saying, “Your mother cannot lose another son.” From that moment, he never touched drugs or alcohol again.

(15: 58) Sober John was doing better, but still was struggling to return to church, until one day, Fr. Solanus Casey appeared to him in a dream saying, “Come find me.” Shortly after, John saw Fr. Solanus, the monk he dreamt of, appear on TV and decided to venture out to his center in Detroit.

(17:47) The narrator shares that the John that entered the doors of the Fr. Solanus Casey Center church for the very first time was seldom seen outside church after. He elaborates on John’s life going forward and how he strives to live his life “All for Jesus.”

Reporting by Gabriella Patti; narration and production by Ron Pangborn

Listen to ‘Detroit Stories’ on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, or Spotify. Podcasts also will be posted biweekly on DetroitCatholic.com.

Speaker 1:

[Soft acoustic guitar]

Narrator :

The YouTube video you're listening to here is called St. Lawrence Catholic Church: an Uplifting View, sweeping grown shots of St. Lawrence of Utica's bell tower fade into zooming shots of the altar, which pan into shots of the stunning stained glass windows. It is set to the hymn of "All For Jesus." This wasn't done by some production company or marketing team. It was done by an extremely passionate parishioner, John Daraban. This was his passion project and homage to the frail hope he had when he wasn't John, Catholic husband, Knight of Columbus member, father of four, clean and sober, but he was John stoned and drunk, sleeping homeless under the freezing viaduct near the river rouge plant between shifts willing a lighter and a few twigs to create a fire, to keep him alive. This is a tribute to the small whisper of the potential life he could lead. If he left everything behind, it's a memory of when some wild interventions encouraged him to, as this song says, "let my feet run in his ways." Welcome to Detroit Stories, a podcast on a mission to boldly share the stories of the people and communities in southeast Michigan. These are the stories that fascinate and inspire us. This episode is sponsored by Alliance Catholic credit union. Learn how you belong here at alliancecatholic.com. John Daraban describes his Roseville upbringing as a typical one. Mom and dad were high school sweethearts, got married in the Catholic church, and John had two siblings: an older brother, and a younger sister. His mom worked a number of odd jobs while dad worked in the factory. This is John.

John:

The household was probably the typical well-off, not money-wise, but well-off with two parents and working and in love. You know, we had that in the house. Let's see, I did my Communion--loved church, always went to church. Felt I really felt connected with the Holy Spirit. Even as a child, I didn't know what it meant, but I knew that I had it, and I knew I was always guided. Even as a young boy, I knew I was guided by more. So as life progressed, you know, Confirmation--I never went into Confirmation because I had a choice. You can play baseball, you can play with your friends, and I chose that.

Narrator :

As John got older, he grew aware of his brother's diverging interests.

John:

You know, my brother got into a faster lifestyle when I was younger and I always kind of watched him and kind of, you know, seeing that it was heartbreaking a little bit to my mom and dad to deal with it. And you know, booze and drugs and fires or hanging out. And I didn't quite get into that, you know, or, or my sister. But I, I did watch and I kind of knew to steer clear of it. So I learned from my brother, even in his teenage years, in my early years,

Narrator :

High school, John got a high school sweetheart of his own. They got engaged, but we're hardly a match made in heaven.

John:

We split up over the stress of the world and not bringing faith into us; me being out all night, she had her friends, and we loved each other probably to the point to where it hurt for us to be together. It wasn't, it wasn't guided love. We broke up because of, again, we just didn't bring God or spirituality into it. And the world kicked our butts. You know, from no money issues that we had, to work issues, responsibility, who does what, who takes care of things going out, you know, I'm with the guy she's with the girls. So it was the type of endeavors that destroy a relationship.

Narrator :

Meanwhile, John's brother Rick started turning things around. He went to school and sobered up and started working with John in the factory. He had a son, Cody who he loved wildly and was determined to stay on the straight and narrow for. But then, just months after Cody turned three, John was in a devastating car accident. His truck fell off the Mackinaw bridge--for John, that did it. He was ready for any and all destructive coping mechanisms he could get to.

John:

I did a factory blue-collar, Detroit auto worker, on the line, stereotypical story, drank with the guys after work, we did the clubs, we did the strip clubs. I lived a life of, you know, zero church life. I did not attend church at that point at all, nor was it a concern. However, even at that point, I would wear a crucifix on my neck, and then go to a gentleman's club. So I--it made zero sense. But I look at that backwards, and realize just how immature, and silly of a person I was inside at that time. But at the time I didn't. But the drugs came in progressively later in years and had gotten so bad that drinking was ruining relationships.

Narrator :

Eventually, his behavior was ostracizing even the guys from work--he had to find new people--ones that would turn a blind eye to his damaging tendencies.

John:

So my level of friends started declining. I met new friends who could drink as much as I did or who didn't care as much. And they hung out with other individuals that my heart still feels for them. And then the drugs were taking over, and I won't go into which ones, but they were hardcore drugs. It wasn't the drugs that ruined their life. It was my lost soul at that point, that ruined my life, is that infinite or definitive answer. And I was looking for something.

Narrator :

Whatever it was that John was looking for, he sought passionately in the emptying of a bottle of getting high. The habit grew more demanding. It was demanding a fifth of vodka a day and drug use to ramp it up from there. He'd go on benders for days at a time he had multiple court appearances. He lost his license. He lost his house. He stopped making car payments and he moved back in with his parents who would sit by the phone, waiting for him to call when he would disappear for days at a time.

John:

I put myself into self-induced homelessness. I slept under the viaduct for days, I would sleep in the plant you know, along the wall, I'd cover up--put a piece of cardboard in the plant, take a shower in the morning or, or maybe not. And I would put on other people's clothes that were less dirty. If Joe threw a shirt and it was less dirty, then shirt I had on, I would put his shirt on the next day at work. Because I, I couldn't live like that back with my parents. I was homeless. I had people around me that loved me. My parents. They never turned their back on me. I mean, it was sad. I think my mom and dad had realized that they might lose a son, another son.

Narrator :

One particularly dangerous homeless spree, John had an intense spiritual experience.

John:

I remember walking back to the plant along the Schaefer road, this was in the rouge plant--the rouge plant was a big complex and multiple viaducts. And it was--I would end up three or four days, not coming home, and drinking, and drugs. And I was walking back to the plant, and it was not quite snow on the ground, but cold enough to--I don't know why I didn't freeze to death, but underneath the viaduct I had sat and was so fatigued, and drained that I knew I had a, I had to start a fire. And I had a lighter and I gathered up some twigs or whatever it was next to me. I was sitting on my butt with my back against the concrete wall and I was trying to light the fire. And then the next thing you know, I actually visualized myself at St. Lawrence. Now, I didn't know it was St Lawrence at the time, but I could see myself in this big, beautiful church.

Narrator :

John had never stepped foot in St. Lawrence before. Though it's very near and dear to his heart today, the church he saw that night was, for him, a complete unknown.

John:

I just didn't know how to get there. And I remember yearning to get there. Now, again, it was very cold at night. Didn't have a jacket. I was underneath the viaduct, trying to like to fire. And then I remember those visions, and I had fallen asleep. But when I woke up, the fire was made. I don't remember making the fire, ever getting it lit, but yet it was smoldering and it was there. So that's one of those moments that I look at--God intervened. He however, possessed that fire to start whether it was heavenly, or I did it and don't remember. But I remembered in the vision of St. Lawrence and had to be there. So there, there was the calling, like I could see where my spirit wanted to go. And that was to be more, to be more.

Narrator :

You hear this story, that something you need to know about John, he's not some high and mighty holy-roller. He wasn't raised with extremely devoted Catholic parents who told him stories of the miraculous deeds, visions, or stigmata of the saints. He's a very salt of the earth guy. His education about the church was minimal. And at times, opted out for baseball. He's a guy's guy who can talk with just about anyone. So when he tells these experiences, he knows exactly how crazy he sounds--and he doesn't care. He's just trying to tell his story. This particular incident, didn't get him running for a church, but it jolted him enough to desire sobriety.

John:

You know, this is stereotypical AA stuff. You know, beer only, drink after five weekends only, no hard shots, you know, I try to control it, which to no avail. I had spent again, three to five years, struggling trying to control it.

Narrator :

John needed something extreme to encourage him through the next day. He got it.

John:

And I was at my parents' house in the bedroom I grew up in, and I was sober for like a day or two. I mean, it wasn't long. I remember just feeling--I said, "What? This is it? There's there's, there's nothing left." That was drained. I was--there, there was nothing left of anything. Life, me. I don't want to say I was suicidal, but I was at the end of anything I ever could know to what to do. And I was just calling out, and the room I was in, and again, I was sitting in at the edge of my bed, and the room became the most dark of dark. And then there was a faint light. I came from a corner of my room and I have a bedroom window there, but it wasn't from the bedroom window though. It was absolute blackness, except for this glow, white glow, that built up in strength pretty rapidly until it was the most brilliant light ever illuminated everything around me, except I couldn't see nothing but this light. And then the Blessed Mom appeared--it wasn't an image. It wasn't like I'd seen the picture. It was the physicality of her in my room. I thought, well, this is it. What is this? This is heaven? And she looked at me and she said, your mother cannot lose another son. Now, from that moment, I'd never touched alcohol and drugs again. After 10 years, tens of thousands of dollars spent for a year. I quit that moment, but my journey had just begun. That was harder than anything I ever encountered in my life. So I jumped up from the bed as she said that, and I opened the door to my room when the whole house was dark and everybody was sleeping. I had entered into another realm of spiritual existence and it was up to me now at that point, to physically and spiritually die, or to accept what she had delivered. And it was that moment that I accepted.

Narrator :

John's first understanding of that message was that his earthly mother, still mourning for her son Rick, couldn't possibly mourn another son. But as time went on, he took it to mean something deeper. The Blessed Mother was losing her son too--the son who sweetly, marched down an aisle many years ago to receive his first communion. The son who wore a crucifix to strip clubs, despite the hypocrisy, the son who in his darkest moments still cried out for help in his childhood bedroom. And it was that son, however sober he was, who could still be lost.

John:

It wasn't until years later that I realized, and correctly put my spirit back together, that she was talking about me. This is because we're all her children, and there's not a mother who would not cry out for the children. She embraced me, and gave me what I had to hear.

Narrator :

Sober John was a much better John, but he still wasn't inclined to go to church that took some nudging too.

John:

I had a dream of this skinny monk wearing a burka, for the lack of real--burlap outfit. You know, cause I wasn't, you know, I didn't know, I still don't know what they're called actually, but I just--I had a dream of this really old looking monk wearing burlap, holding three cloth crosses with wiry glasses, and he said to me in my dream, "find me."

Narrator :

An odd dream that meant little to a man who'd never met a monk before, but it came back to him years later, about five years into his sobriety when John was scrolling through some channels on the TV and he found a Catholic channel talking about a wiry monk with glasses from Detroit named Solanus Casey.

John:

And I was like, "whoa!", so much I instantly had goosebumps. I almost, fainted. I fell backwards. And if my bed wasn't there, I would've hit the floor. And all my butt, I fell backwards onto my bed and I looked and it was this priest I dreamt about.

Narrator :

John went to learn more at the Solanus Casey center--his first time entering a church since he was young.

John:

I walked down to the Father Solanus center and the big wooden doors. I remember they were the heaviest doors I have ever opened, crying in tears. I opened them up and I walked into the Solanus center and I stood at the front looking at the atrium. And I remember Kathy, the front clerk said, "Hello, welcome to the Father Solanus center!" I said, here I am.

Narrator :

The John who entered church years ago is seldom seen outside of one. Now his persona is one that is passionately in tune with the Holy Spirit, from the random person sitting on the bus that he offers prayers for, to the woman he saw briefly in the mall and instantly knew that she was his wife. He lives tethered to a heavenly realm and fully embracing the whispers of the Holy Spirit. Those a whispers he sees now were always there. The unbathed, shivering man under the viaduct who envisioned St. Lawrence heard whispers of hope of what could be, and what could be was far more beautiful than anything John could have imagined. If that John could have seen everything that it would have come to be at St. Lawrence, it would have been a wife walking down the aisle to marry him after the two went through RCI together, it would be the church, their family clustered into pews each Sunday and the school next door, where they sent their kids. It would be a beautiful life that is every day striving, praying, and seeking to live all for Jesus.

Detroit Stories is a production of the Detroit Catholic and the communications department of the Archdiocese of Detroit. Find us on apple podcasts, Spotify, Amazon music, or wherever you get your podcasts.