I’ve some remembrances from my three years at the “Hill of
Happiness” which warm my heart and will no doubt awaken like memories in yours as
you read through this.
Despite having flown in from Saudi Arabia in the Fall of
1961, the oncoming Wisconsin Winter was in no way my first exposure to the
sub-zeros. My father’s work on the
construction of Montreal’s oil refinery in the Winter of ’54 was my baptism in
arctic-like conditions. From where
our family lived, you could watch the ice breakers plow shipping lanes through
the St. Lawrence River.
A year or so ago I read in some SLS alumni organ that
Brother Dismas had passed on to his reward. From the obit, I learned of his having served in the Korean
War as a medic before later joining the OFM Cap.s. So it was inevitable that he should become the Seminary’s
Infirmarian. But what I never
understood was his leading the toboggan charges down through the apple orchards
below St. Mary’s Hall every winter; it was as if he were trying to recruit
patients for his ward from the lower classmen crazy enough to find joy in crashing
along the way…
And then there were the Sunday afternoons spent watching
Vince Lombardi’s Packers whop virtually any NFL team that came along-- of
course they did it in black & white-- don’t ever remember a color TV during
my years on the Hill… But I
remember Bart Starr, Paul Hornung, Jim Taylor, Ray Nitschke, Jesse Whittenton, Max McGee, Herb Adderley, and Elijah
Pitts to name a few.
Speaking of sports, who of us can forget the annual pilgrimage
to Milwaukee for a Braves game in May?
I believe this was some kind of reward for those who toiled away
preparing mailings in Fr. Crispin’s “Loyalty Club” in the Laurentianum
basement. I never spent much time doing
that, but it seemed like the whole student body went to the game. I remember Warren Spahn pitching a rare,
not-so-good game one of those three years that I was lucky enough to attend. I also remember certain seminary mates straying
away from their designated seating areas-- as you could, once inside County
Stadium-- seems they were more interested in encountering the magic of teenage
GIRLS during the brief outing we all enjoyed. I’ll name no names, but you all know who you were!
My Sundays were kind of open format since I never had
family visiting; the only person I came in contact with was the lady who took in
laundry. I spent the afternoon
studying, often squirreling away in my favorite hideaway in the attic over the
St. Thomas Hall stage. There was a
small window up there where you could look out over the whole surrounding
countryside as far away in one direction as St. Cloud. Mostly I tried to catch up on my U.S.
History text so I could joust with Fr. Ronald, one of my favorite teachers on
the faculty. And though you wouldn’t
consider me a Latin scholar, I enjoyed Father [ “O Di Immortalis!” ]
Emil’s Third Year Latin class and the Catalinian Orations we had to slog
through. Hell, I even survived
Virgil’s Anead in our Senior year, but have no specific recollection of
who it was that passed (and/or pitied--) me.
Looking through our ’63 Yearbook-- correct me if I’m wrong,
Dan, it was the first one of its kind-- I see numerous references to Rogers
& Hart’s “I’d Rather Be Right,” the play we performed in our Senior
year. What puzzles me is that
there is no Yearbook reference to the Seminary’s production of Gilbert &
Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore, which we actually “took on the road” to a
theater in Fond du Lac. Maybe that
production was later in the year and beyond the publisher’s deadline for the
Yearbook. Any guesses?
Truth be told, I would say that our band (there weren’t any
strings to make it an orchestra) was marginally on key and up to tempo-- mostly
through the tireless efforts of Eddie DeGroot and Father Myron. I remember Fr. Myron arranging a trip
for us band members to go to Appleton’s Lawrence College to attend the
Conservatory’s choral performance of Handel’s Messiah, which was a real
Advent treat before we broke for Christmas.
Ah, Christmas breaks, and Easter ones as well. I traveled by train to St. Louis where I
spent the vacation with my brother who was in medical school there at the
time. Lugging my suitcase between
stations in Chicago made me feel a little like Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye. Come to think of it, I don’t believe I
ever got Fr. Crispin’s Nihil Obstat to possess-- let alone read-- that book,
but read it I did, by the nightlight at the foot of my bed in St. Anthony’s
Hall dorm after lights out.
Just leaving the seminary for
an afternoon was a welcome excursion into the outer world. I remember the “adventure” of walking
down the Hill to Mt. Calvary for a dental appointment, or for a cholera booster
vaccination before returning to Saudi Arabia for Summer vacation. And who can forget the trips to Fond du
Lac some of us took, with the upperclassman driver having to place the obligatory
Colonel Sander’s KFC order to be brought back to the multitude of seminarians
placing their orders (remember a lot of seminarians had “food lockers”) in the
basement of the Laurentianum. I
don’t think this in any way detracted from the virtuous labor of the Sisters of
Christ the King at our Refectory-- I just don’t recall much about the food they
prepared, except that it was breakfast, dinner, and supper, not lunch
and dinner! Anyone remember
much, or anything, about our food?
All I remember were the army surplus stainless steel trays it was served
on.
I recall the beginning
construction of the new gymnasium in our Senior year (St. ????’s Hall). Maybe someone who returned for their
fifth year can chime in and tell us about how it handled Hilltopper basketball
games or Sunday movie nights as compared to St Joseph’s Hall, which handled
both events rather well and had four bowling lanes in its basement!
Speaking of sports, who can
forget the annual Field Day events, capped with a faculty/student softball match
in which Fr. Vernon invariably hit an out-of-the-park home run; our student
team wasn’t that bad-- didn’t Jim Gilgenbach pitch for us?-- but I seem to
remember a story about Fr. Vernon turning down a tryout offer from the
Pittsburgh Pirates at one time.
But that’s about it for
now. I’d love to hear any of your
recollections of what, for me, were three years of my life well spent.
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