her from afar. I was flabbergasted that Sister was placing items in her cart that were similar to those mother placed in ours. How could this be? We eat the same foods and use the same products as “Mighty Moe?” All of a sudden the theory of parallel universes made good sense because this Sister certainly was not sharing the same time and space as my mother!
Outside of school, somewhere around the third grade, my friends Bob, Skip and I decided to start a local newsletter in our neighborhood. We entitled the newsletter LuCinDa, which was named after who we believed were our ‘girlfriends’ at the time. My girlfriend was Lucy, Bob’s was Cindy, and Skip’s was Diane. I do not remember whether they were flattered or not, but I assume they were; or perhaps they preferred roses or jewelry.
The newsletter shared much about nothing that occurred in the neighborhood. There were no computers or copy machines at the time. So we typed the newsletter on our Smith-Coronas portable typewriters using 10-12 sheets of carbon paper. Now, for those of you who precede carbon paper, it had the interesting quality that the more you used, the fatter, duller, and less readable the type became. You were not sure whether you were reading something or analyzing psychological ink blots. We almost felt guilty about selling these latter copies of the paper to our neighbors for the full 25 cents… almost, for this would cut into our ice cream and soda money; after all, the “profits” had to be split three ways. The neighbors did not seem to mind and enjoyed reading about the going-ons in a very narrow slice of the community while they were working or busy being homemakers. The reader is spared the breaking news events shared in our neighborhood paper, as no known copies have survived the passage of time.
Beyond our community, more noteworthy events occurred in the world from 1957-1965 during our eight years of what was then identified as “grammar school.” Indeed, unbeknown to us at the time, we were living history as much as studying it. There were three chief executives serving our country: Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson. The coronation of three popes as heads of the world’s Roman Catholics also occurred: Popes Pius XII, John XXIII, and Paul VI. The Second Vatican Ecumenical Council (Vatican II), dedicated to The Immaculate, was convened. The First Vatican Council was adjourned way back in 1870. Vatican II was declared open under Pope John XXIII in 1962 and closed under Pope Paul VI in 1965. Pope John hoped that the Council would “…increase the fervor and energy of Catholics, to serve the needs of Christian people.” Locally, two of the worst disasters occurred in our state during that period: a gas explosion blew up the local Coliseum and killed 75 people; and 135 victims lost their lives to a tornado.
By 1964, we all entered our last year in grade school. We were now maturing into young adults—well, a good many of us anyway. This was a year of work that was to prepare us for high school. Boys finally discovered girls and girls seemed to like the idea. Being the less mature of the sexes, there were still some boys whose chief concern about relating to girls was contracting cooties.
At the end of these long eight years, I chose what I thought was my life’s calling and in all honestly had not thought about much else since the second grade. To my family’s surprise, I decided to enroll in a Catholic seminary with the intention to be ordained a Roman Catholic priest. How did I know that at age 13 I was too young to decide what to do with the rest of my life? Yet, it seemed naively simplistic, but so reassuring at the time.
As a young man with a pastoral focus, I spent almost as much time at the parish rectory as I did at home. The rectory is where priests lived and the parish business was transacted. My transportation back and forth to home, which was less than a mile away, was initially by bicycle, then by car when I became of legal age. This worked out rather well until one evening when somebody broke into my car and lifted my cassette stereo deck—right in front of the church! Such incidents were unheard of at the time in this neighborhood. Neither the culprit nor the deck was ever found; however, I suspect the person progressed to bigger crimes and is surely rotting in a jail cell or hell today. At least I hope so because I do not feel particularly forgiving.
Typical tasks that were entrusted to the seminarians at the rectory included answering the door and telephones during the evening hours, and printing the parish Sunday bulletins, newsletters, etc. In turn, we also had free run, more or less, of watching television and raiding the icebox. There was a group of five of us seminarians who were honored with these responsibilities. They were a large part of my life at the time, an important part of my forming adolescent years. Bob, Jim, Joe and Tom (Gris) hold a special place in my heart even though we rarely see each other now as our roads have traveled diverse paths and what relationally bound us then has weakened.
Bob was the bright, intelligent seminarian keen in theological wisdom and Canon Law. Jim was the caring seminarian with a kind and inviting smile for anybody from anywhere. Joe had the most angelic voice whose singing did more for one’s peace of mind than Prozac ever could. Gris— well, we spent so much time together because of our duties and friendship. I was closest to Gris in age and deeply miss those times we had together. Yet, all these men generously shared their friendship and their guidance at a formative time in my young life.
During the years, we saw a number of parish priests come and go from the rectory. Some went because priests were reassigned generally about every five years. Some went because they chose a different path and abandoned their chosen vocation—some to marry. Some went because they were assigned only temporarily to the parish to ‘dry out’ from the alcoholic demons that devoured them.
We also developed relationships with the good sisters of the parish who lived in the nearby convent. Parishes did not have coed dorms that housed both priests and nuns. These relationships, beyond our peer relationships, were highly treasured ones. It was difficult to see them go after being such a big part of our young lives. It was during this period that I could remember first experiencing personal feelings of loss.
Graduating from grade school was another one of those beginnings of the end that most of us commonly share. It was a time when you first gained awareness that you are not just kids anymore. Playtime neither reigned supreme nor could you get away with just playing all the time even if you wanted to do so. This thought was reflected in the address to our graduating class of 1965: “Now you must enter high school, a time only half as long as grade school. This is your preparation for tomorrow that will be here much sooner than you think. Your parents spent the last eight years begging you to study and will probably continue for another four years... The tomorrow has arrived. You soon will be on your way to a career. The years will seem to pass quicker now so enjoy them as you progress through this fine part of your life...” Responsibilities came to the forefront and thoughts about life, life’s goals, and careers became more defined—truly, a beginning of the end
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