Our History & Mission

The hope for a new Catholic school in Utah arose primarily out of need. The discussions for such a space began in the late 1980s when the population of Judge Memorial Catholic High School reached capacity at nearly a thousand students. The daily drive north to the other Catholic grade schools proved difficult for families at the south end of the valley and the coveted few seats at the recently opened Blessed Sacrament filled each year in a matter of minutes.

Parents and administrators agreed, the time had come to add to Utah’s rich tradition of Catholic education. Before the Diocese could get the plan off the ground, however, Bishop Wiegan was transferred. Two years passed before the Diocese of Salt Lake City was appointed a new Bishop, but a handful of educators and Catholic education administrators banded together to ensure that those years did not go to waste. 

Monsignor Fitzgerald, principal at Judge Memorial at the time, and Dr. Galey Colosimo, then principal of St. Francis Xavier, led the charge, preparing their case for the addition of a Catholic K-12 school at the southern end of the Salt Lake Valley as the Diocese awaited the assignment of a new Bishop.

When Bishop Niederauer was ordained in January 1995, a white paper detailing the 30-year future of Utah Catholic education awaited him. The report illustrated the advantages and challenges of establishing a new school and recommended locating it at least 100 blocks away from Judge Memorial to create a natural boundary. The request was approved and the search for the new school’s home commenced. 

Six months later, the answer seemed to arrive in the form of the old Jordan High School.

Built in 1914 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the building was in disrepair and available for a few million dollars less than the $300k it would take to demolish the structure.

The Diocese made a bid, hoping to renovate rather than demolish the school, which sat well with many of the voting board members who once attended the historic high school and wanted to see it preserved. Another bidder, a commercial real estate developer, offered the same price as the Diocese, but with plans to demolish the building and erect a movie theater and several restaurants in its stead.

On August 10, 1995, the board made its decision. Despite everyone’s conviction that the Diocese would win, the board voted in favor of the commercial developer.

The Salt Lake Tribune reported the verdict the very next day: the old Jordan High School would be brought down (so the Jordan Commons Megaplex could one day take its place), and the Diocese would have to begin its search from scratch. With no other real prospects, it was a devastating outcome for the Diocese.

Little did the Diocese know, a far greater plan was unfolding.

It so happened that Sam Skaggs, a Salt Lake-based retail superstore magnate picked up the paper that day. Seventy-four years-old at the time, and a lifelong Baptist, Skaggs was in the process of converting to Catholicism. Some might argue that it was purely coincidental, or simply a serendipitous turn of events, but to Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo, what happened next was nothing short of a miracle. 

It was God’s good grace that set such uncanny events in motion that week, and it was Sam Skaggs’ charitable heart that led him to put down the newspaper and pick up the phone.

Msgr. Fitzgerald heard from the Diocese receptionist later that day. Mr. Skaggs wanted to arrange a meeting, as soon as possible. 

The men met a day later. And so it was on August 11, 1995, that Mr. Skaggs offered the Diocese all of the funds it needed, not to renovate a school, but to build one from the ground up.

Sam Skaggs’ supreme generosity graced the Diocese with the ability to build the school of its dreams, and yet there was one catch. Skaggs did not like working with architects and encouraged Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo to find their ideal in an existing structure that they could replicate instead.

Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo embarked on a two-year journey across the United States and parts of Mexico to find such a building. They toured a hundred schools, old and new, as well as dozens of churches and basilicas. Marveling at the design and construction of so many structures, they ultimately struggled to find the perfect match. Whether it was a matter of size, materials, layout, or simply a difference in building code given the varied regions and environments, none of the plans for the buildings they visited seemed to fit. 

Despite great struggle, their two-year quest, primarily through the deserts of the southwest, led to great discovery. It was during this time of inspiration and reflection that their thoughts and ideas began to coalesce, forming the philosophy and vision for the Skaggs Catholic Center as an institution that not only taught the values of a Catholic education, but embodied them, right down to its very foundation.

What would such a building look like? After two years of searching, and two key trips to Mexico City, Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo were sure of one thing. Such a building did not yet exist. They would have to design and build it, and to do so, they would have to convince benefactor Sam Skaggs to do the one thing he said he wouldn’t. They would have to hire an architect.

Conceding that the ideal would not be found on the road but would need to be brought to life in a collaborative effort at home, Sam Skaggs agreed to work with local architecture firm MHTN Architects. So Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo sat down with one of the architects to capture the vision that had been forming over the previous two years and put it down on paper. The preliminary sketch that came from that very first meeting, which still hangs in the main office, is almost identical to the campus that exists today.

The bell tower, with its shining cross reaching toward the heavens, is the heart of the campus, an axis point upon which the three tenets of Catholic education—Faith, Learning, and Community—are centered. To the north and south of the bell tower, Saint John the Baptist Church and the Chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe invite Faith. To the east and west, the libraries of Juan Diego Catholic High School and Saint John the Baptist Catholic Elementary, champion Learning. Between the Juan Diego library and the Chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Great Hall and auditorium provide gathering spaces that foster Community.

The center would be the first of its kind. Not just a beautiful campus, but a vision brought to life by faith and generosity, patience and persistence. An institution that reflects the core Catholic identity and lives the Christian values it teaches.

As the architects worked on the plans and construction crews brought those plans to fruition, other aspects of the school began to take shape.

A name had to be decided and everyone had a different idea of what the campus should be called. Mr. Skaggs, who was hopeful that his gift would remain anonymous, wasn’t interested in having any buildings named after him. If it were up to him, he’d name the school after Mother Teresa, to whom he was devoted, and be done with it.

But the Diocese was worried that word of the “secret benefactor” would get out and that Mr. Skaggs would feel betrayed once it did.

During breakfast with Mr. Skaggs one morning, Msgr. Fitzgerald suggested that they find a separate name for each of the schools and name the center, as a whole, the Skaggs Catholic Center. With a little coaxing from Dr. Colosimo and Mr. Skaggs’ wife, Aileen, Msgr. Fitzgerald was able to convince Mr. Skaggs of the idea.

Now, they had to come up with three different names. Naming the elementary school was easy enough. Saint John the Baptist linked the school to the nearby mission church of the same name, which had served parishioners at the south end of the valley since 1981. The daycare might as well have named itself, Guardian Angel was so perfect. But the high school was a different matter entirely.

Bishop Niederauer favored naming the high school after Junípero Serra, a Spanish priest and missionary, but Msgr. Fitzgerald and Dr. Colosimo worried people wouldn’t know how to say or spell it.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for an alternative to arrive. 

It came, as so many revelations do, in a dream.

One night, the rain pattering against the window, woke Msgr. Fitzgerald who had left it open. Half asleep, he slid from his bed and crossed the room to close the window. By the time he latched it and made his way back under the blanket, he was fully awake. 

Fragments of a dream floated up from his subconscious and with it, a still, small voice that said “the school should be named after Juan Diego.”