There is usually some basis for truth to ethnic stereotypes. I was raised in a 100% German family. My family liked cabbage, dumplings and beer. Another stereotype that was grounded in reality in my family was that emotions were to be kept in check. That was especially true on my father’s side of the family. There are other cultural anomalies, but that will suffice for what I am about to write.
I must admit that, German-wise, I am a washout. I really don’t like cabbage; I’m not crazy about dumplings, and the only beer I like is Guinness. Most of all, I am emotional. I get choked up seeing little babies in TV ads, and don’t get me started talking about my grandchildren. By the end, you may well have to help me to a chair and use a cloth to dab my tears.
Actually, this blog is not about being German; it is about my emotions during the end-of-the-year Mass in Holy Family Church on Tuesday. I’m not sure I can explain why I “choked” up. Certainly some of it was that the church was filled with the glorious sound of the St. Ignatius’ wonderful orchestra and choir, but my emotions were spurred by the recollection of some heart-tugging...at least for me...memories.
Very close to 50 years ago, on the first Friday of the school year, I stepped into Holy Family for the very first time to join in the celebration of the Mass-of-the-Holy Spirit. In those days, there were many priests in the school, and during the masses, most of them were at the altar. That was a majestic sight. The church was filled with the voices of 1150 young men as we prayed for God’s blessings for the coming year. Daily lunchtime masses were held in Holy Family, and they were pretty well attended. In those days, the boys walked through the “tunnel” to church, passing what is now the Treasures Office and the room occupied by the maintenance staff. They did not go outside to get to church, and, of course, they walked in total silence.
On Tuesday this year, there weren’t as many priests, and the student body is now co-ed, but, despite those small differences, the memories of those 50 years, with all of their accompanying emotions, washed over me. Holy Family Church is a gold thread that runs through the fabric of my life at Ignatius.
I can recall Father Moosbrugger giving what was to be referred to as the “greener pastures” homily, in which he said that the Jesuits had decided to stay at “1076” and not relocate on the south-west side, near where St. Laurence High School is now located.
The Baccalaureate Masses were held In Holy Family, and there was always some emotion to seeing the students that I taught as they headed out into the “cold world”.
As the church was falling on hard times, one day Carmen Pintozzi (a great teacher and coach, and a very good friend of mine) and I climbed to the choir loft when the church was empty. As we walked towards the front of the loft, we could feel it begin to sway, and we scampered (as well as two 200-plus pound men can “scamper”) back to the stair-well, trying not to shake the loft any more than necessary, nervously laughing about our “near-death” experience. In itself, it wasn’t a big deal, but a short time later, I stood at the lectern, reading the petitions at Carmen’s funeral mass. (That was tough.) As a side note, the “Junior-of-the-Year” award is named in Carmen’s honor. This years honoree is Robert Nolan, so if anyone who reads this blog knows Robert, please be sure to congratulate him on his award.
A few years ago, my daughter, Jill, was married in Holy Family, and a week later, I attended my last Baccalaureate Mass as I prepared to retire. No single event would explain why I felt as I did, but the sum total of these and many more brought back the nostalgia, both joyous and painful.
There were quite a few years in the middle of that time period when the masses were held in the school gym, because Holy Family had deteriorated so badly, but, thanks to the efforts of Fr. George Lane, SJ, and the generosity of many people, the church has saved.
I have a ghost story that is a part of the Holy Family tradition, but that is saved for a later “reminiscence”
I recall having mass in H.F. maybe twice in four years, so that must have been when the church was in its deteriorating phase. Of course, the school itself also was in that phase during those years.
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