By Kevin Wells, Crisis Magazine - All was forgotten anyway when Fr. Jeff Norfolk stepped down from the altar to move down the line of the quiet men with cracked hands—ranchers, mechanics, deer hunters, cattlemen, hog and grain farmers, linemen, marines, and the like—who had dropped to their knees to receive the Sacrament on their tongue like pheasants shot from the sky. The priest knows he can’t fake it here, these people know reality; so he’s surrendered his priesthood to Mary, where, like de Montfort, he’s become her slave in prisons, on poverty-ravaged Indian reservations, and at snakebitten farms.