On the Brink of Impending Youthiness (again)

This is McAuliffe Hall, the freshman building where, that September of 1956, we began our 4 years at Prep. It was the perfect ediface in which to inhale the first whiff of the rarified atmosphere that was to surround the next four years' education. A huge circular staircase, wide hallways, creaky floorboards, classroom fireplaces, mammoth windows, drafty rooms with floor grates that blew warm oiled air on snowy winter days, our requisite suit or sport coat with buttoned shirt and tie, and those sit-up-straight, clunky wooden chair-desks straight out of British public school lore. As I said...the perfect place.

Fast forward fifty years...it's now 2010 and we'll all be converging on the Prep Campus Friday evening, June 4th, for a reunion reception where we'll see who's still upright, who's got hair, who's got a waistline, who's compos mentis, etc.  Will those long-saved memories of classmates emerge from deep recesses as soon as I actually see who it is I am looking at?

I'm already reminded of the smartness of the boys at this school.  There was Gerard DeF., sort of a precursor of the Fonz, who was smart.  And Charlie B., who kept us laughing, was big and played football, had a heart as big as can be, and was smart.  And Peter S. who always knew the answers because he was smart.  And Bob J. who sat in front of me (alphabetically) for most of the 4 years, who had the compulsiveness of youth, the guile of a prankster, and was smart.  Even Peter B., who smoked like a chimney and had a beard as thick as a middle aged cossack, was smart.  They were all smart, and at first that was scary.  But it was okay to be smart here; it was a noble goal -- to learn, to achieve.  Good study habits were formed early and "stick-to-it-iveness" was an ideal for which many strived.  Still, sadly, some boys did not return each September.  Most of us did whatever we could to keep that from happening to us.  We knew early on that we had an opportunity that was not to be wasted.  We knew that with these 4 years under our belts, we would have chances at further education better than most.  Yes, even at age 15, we knew it was an honor to be among these "prepsters." 

The Book of Recollections I've been working on has now been sent to the University Print Shop. It's a happy-hands-at-home type of thing; probably won't win any prizes, but should add some fun to the 50th Reunion weekend. 

This is a photo of our brave German teacher, Fr. Butler,

 with 6 of us sixteen-year-olds at a restaurant in Mexico City

during a six-week-long trip he chaperoned in the Summer of 1959.

(The only things German we encountered were the Ambassador's wife and her Mercedes Benz)!

The Reunion Committee has been busy these past months led by John S., our more than capable class president.  Woody S. and Jimmy W. have been busy putting together the events of the weekend.  The main event on Saturday evening is a Pig Roast dinner to be held in a huge tent on the Prep Quad.  Tom C. has been contacting all alums across the country to see who's coming.  Ed K. and Nick P. have been working on getting contributions to our class Gift.  The goal of $200K has nearly been reached by the first 50 classmates reached.  A portion of our gift is being set aside for a full 4-year scholarship so a bright young man can experience what we have experienced.  (Our yearly tuition of $315 is now in the $15K range!).  We all get to meet him at some point during the weekend. 

On Sunday, we "graduate" with the Class of 2010.  We receive our "golden diplomas."  Are we now actually peers of Betty White and Bea Arthur?  It'll be "real cool" going up individually to shake the hand of the young President of the school.  Then being set free again!  Free to go out into the world to do good things.  Gimme a break -- I'm 67 years old -- it'll be time for a snooze.

Memories of Young Men in the Great Class of 1960

The weekend of June 4-6, 2010 is fast approaching.  It's the weekend that I get to share with 50 or so fresh-faced, smart, grateful, and still eager 68 year-olds the golden anniversary of the culmination of one of the most important opportunities of our lives.  It's the reunion weekend of Fairfield Prep's Great Class of 1960.  It's the weekend when doctors, lawyers, judges, writers, scientists, monsignori, brokers, educators, and we regular folk get together to honor each other for the part we played, and still play, in each others' lives.

For this event, I've been charged with the task of putting together a book of recollections.  So I've solicited each member of the class to send me some unforgettable feelings, happenings, or events that pop to mind when he thinks of his 4 years at Prep.  Some thing that may have bored the daylights out of family members when Dad got in a story-telling mood over the years.  Some thing that only we, as co-conspirators, would fully appreciate.

I've gotten some wonderful responses.  How nice to be reminded of things I have totally forgotten.  How could I not remember the tale of the firecracker and the beehive?  Hearing about it again puts me right back there on that warm spring day when McAuliffe Hall was closed down for an afternoon due to invasions of nasty yellow jackets.  

Interspersed with the classmates' memories, I'm inserting scans of memorabilia like this calendar that made it through 50 years of cross-country moves stashed in a carton with report cards, reading lists, class notes, programs, and some text books.

I expect I'll write more about all this during the next few weeks.

Getting a Late Start

The raised beds this spring are loaded with volunteers.  So far, I've spied a couple of red lettuce plants, a walnut "sappling," sweet peas, and several California poppies. 

If I don't get the vegetables planted this week, we're talking August or September before we have peppers or tomatoes.  Rain today and forecast again for tomorrow.  Hope Tuesday can be planting day.