Not listed in A Prayer-Calendar of Deceased Priests & Deacons in Australia 1788-2009, compiled by W.T. Southerwood, Sixth Edition, 2009.

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Fr David Strong SJ, The Australian dictionary of Jesuit biography 1848-2015, Second Edition, 2017:
Fitzpatrick, Daniel

Teacher, chaplain; born Belfast, 27 October 1910; died Melbourne, 7 July 2001, aged 90.

Daniel Fitzpatrick will be remembered as a good, faithful, cheerful man with irrepressible zeal. He came from Belfast, Northern Ireland. His father, an engineer, died on the famous liner the Titanic, when Fitzpatrick was very young. For his secondary education he went to the Jesuit College at Mungret, Limerick, in the south of Ireland. He had fond memories of his education, speaking with affection of his Jesuit teachers, especially Matthew Bodkin, who had a significant influence on the young Fitzpatrick. He entered the Society of Jesus, 1 September 1928, enjoying the quiet country environment of Tullabeg. After vows in 1930, Fitzpatrick went to Rathfarnham Castle, and University College, Dublin, studying for a Bachelor of Science degree in physics and chemistry, finally graduating with honours. Meanwhile, in 1931, he had been assigned to the newly created Australian vice-province, a decision he did not appear to regret.

Much of his further Jesuit studies were completed overseas. There were three years of philosophy at Valkenburg, Holland, 1933-36, followed by theology studies at Louvain and Milltown Park, 1936-40. He was ordained at Louvain, 24 August 1939, just seven days before the start of the Second World War, and was then evacuated to Dublin. Tertianship was at Rathfarnham Castle, 1941, but it was not until 1943 that transport to Australia became possible.

The journey, with three other Jesuits, to Australia became part of the folklore of the province, as it was an extremely hazardous journey. Because of the ever-present threat of German U-boats in the Atlantic, the ship moved only under the cover of night and kept close to the coast of Africa. It took about five months to reach Australia, every day of the journey tense with stress and anxiety.

When he arrived in Melbourne, he went to St Patrick’s College, East Melbourne, and immediately began to teach. He taught chemistry and religious knowledge, 1943-48. For two years, 1944-45, he was prefect of studies, and for his last two years, he agreed to teach science at Xavier College, Kew, in the afternoons after a morning’s work at St Patrick’s. He rode to and from Xavier on his bicycle. In addition, he taught science at the Presbyterian Ladies’ College, then situated in Victoria Parade. He was always proud of this ecumenical venture, and enjoyed teaching the girls.

Fitzpatrick was very family orientated, and after his mother died, who had married again, he brought his step-brothers and sister to Australia, settled them into accommodation and schools, and kept a kindly, attentive eye on them. After his return from Hong Kong he would visit his sister on Saturday afternoon, stay the night, and return to the community on Sunday afternoon. This was a ritual that both he and his family cherished.

In 1949 he moved to Xavier College, and for the next 23 years taught senior chemistry and physics. He taught six classes a day and had no laboratory assistant. His love of science and commitment to his students was evident. He dressed in a crisp white laboratory coat and would greet his students in a positive and cheerful manner. He was highly regarded as a teacher, thorough, organised, and exhibited the importance of discipline in learning.

His commitment to his students was most evident in his high standards and expectation of hard work. He would not suffer tomfoolery gladly. Not much escaped him. Many will recall his saying his rosary on the top verandah overlooking the chapel. What he surveyed from there was often a basis for his conversations with students. A comment made later, and drawn from that vantage position could stop one in his tracks. He may have been fastidious in his attention to detail, but such dedication prepared many of his students well for scientific studies at the university.

A full weekday ministry did not prevent Fitzpatrick from other forms of pastoral ministry. On weekends he had a regular Mass supply at Ferntree Gully, while school holidays afforded him the opportunity to give Eight-Day retreats.

At the age of 62, in 1972, he embarked on the second stage of his life journey. He had hoped to do retreat work in Asia, possible Malaysia, where the Irish Jesuits worked, but these plans failed when it became obvious that he was unable to obtain a permanent work visa. Undaunted, he went to Hong Kong looking for work. The Catholic port chaplain had suddenly resigned, and he was asked to fill in as temporary chaplain, which became a ministry that lasted 13 years until he was 75 years of age.

With his cheerful, helpful, approachable manner, Fitzpatrick won many friends from among the seafarers from many nations, Filipinos, especially, but also Goans, Poles and Russians. He gave time to all, and enjoyed their company. He loved people. Daily he would set out into the Hong Kong harbour, scaling ladders to board ships, which he later admitted was somewhat dangerous in rough seas. Talking to the men, making them feel at home, he would regularly promise to write to their family, giving them news. This custom he continued for the rest of his life, especially at Christmas time. He even made trips to the Philippines to meet the families of these men, enjoying the free service of Cathay Pacific Airlines or ships belonging to Squires. When off ship, he was to be found in the Mariners' Club, where he socialised with everyone, and presented the Faith in a very concrete and convincing way, talking through people’s doubts and troubles with convincing ease. He was apostolic and ebullient, often breaking into song and poetry. He formed good relations with the Anglican port chaplain and his wife, and they shared common experiences. He revelled in this life.

When it became difficult for him to board ships, it was time to make a third career change. He decided to return to Australia, and began a ministry to the sick and dying at Caritas Christi Hospice in Kew, which he continued until the end of his life. From 1986-89 he lived at Burke Hall, and from then on at Campion House. His compassionate and cheerful disposition endeared him to both patients and staff.

He retired early each night and rose about 3 am, and after prayers went for a morning walk around the paths of the Yarra Boulevard. With rough walking stick in hand, he made this walk again in the afternoon. Visits to the Hospice were from 9am with Mass at 10am, followed by more visiting to those he had missed before Mass. He would return again at 3pm in the afternoon. He was always meticulously regular. His appearance was unique, his diminutive stature, big flannelette check shirt, baseball cap and runners, and baggy shorts in summer. In winter the baseball cap was replaced with a Russian fur fez with earmuffs. He cared not for externals or fashion; he was always himself. Everyone was special, he had time for all, talking, offering the sacraments, or saying prayers where appropriate.

As age increased his eyesight became poor, and just after his 90th birthday he fell and broke his hip while on his hospice rounds. He was well looked after at Caritas and learnt to walk again, once again visiting patients in his pyjamas. He accepted his move to Nazareth House, saying that there would be some ministry for him there. He lived his life to the full, but had no fear of dying. He had an unspeakable faith and he loved to joke that when he got to Heaven he would spend his first days running about looking for his father whom he had not seen since babyhood.

Fitzpatrick loved company, but was never dependent upon it. He enjoyed sharing his theological and spiritual insights gained from the scriptures as applied to his ministry, or reflecting on how the laws of science helped to a deeper understanding of the works of God in the universe. He would often reflect upon the goodness to God towards him, especially in the gift of nature and its wonders. He could see unity in diversity as he gazed at the night sky and felt that however apart, we are together.

He was a genial companion, one with whom it was easy to form friendship. It is claimed that one Irish Jesuit in Hong Kong was a regular visitor to him at the Mariners’ Club. The two men were complete opposites, the visitor rigid and fearfully conservative, and Fitzpatrick easy going. They became good friends. He was also a great letter writer, keeping in touch with many people that had crossed his path during his long life.

In his personal life he was obsessively ordered and clean. His room was spotless and everything in place, with pride of place given to a model of the Titanic. His most characteristic trademark was an infectious chuckle as he held a glass of his favourite tipple in his hand. 'What did the policeman say to the kleptomaniac? You better take things quietly'. Laughing at his own joke, he was seemingly oblivious that he had told it on numerous occasions previously.

Fitzpatrick's joyful, adventurous spirit, at peace with himself, man and God, zealously seeking new ways to minister to people in need with persevering dedicated commitment, combined with a love of family and friends, was a powerful legacy to all who knew him.

(Reproduced by permission of Fr David Strong SJ.)