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.