Occasionally, I meet someone associated with Saint Ignatius and Holy Family Church who is not familiar with THE ghost story. Actually, I know three (or four or five, depending on how you count them) ghost stories, but the most renowned pertains to Father Damen, who was the founder of both Holy Family Parish and Saint Ignatius "College". This is certainly an instance where one story easily morphs into another. I'll try to keep myself under control.
I should probably also make the disclaimer that I did no research on what I tell you. This is a part of the oral tradition passed along to me very early in my career...kind of like the Old Testament before they discovered paper. As a part of that "tradition", I understand that Fr. Damen, a German Jesuit and the man after whom Damen Avenue is named, founded the church and the schools to serve the Irish immigrants in the mid-1800's.
Here's the version of the story that I heard: One day, sometime in late 1800's, after saying mass, Fr. Damen was approached by two altar boys who asked him if he would come to their house and give their mother the last rites. She was gravely ill. He said that he would, and they told him where they "lived". Father did not recognize the boys, but that was not unusual since Holy Family was a very large parish.
When he had finished putting his vestments away, he went to the address he had been given. There, he found a very old lady who was clearly near death, and he gave her the last rites, what we used to call extreme unction. When he finished the blessing, he stayed briefly to visit with the lady, and she asked him how he knew to come there. He told her about the two altar boys and their request. He said he thought that they said their mother was ill, but they must have said "grandmother". She asked him to describe the boys, and when he did, she began to cry. She told him that she did have two sons...only two sons...and they both died in a drowning accident when they were about the age of the boys Father indicated.
He firmly believed he had been sent to her by the ghosts of her dead sons. To commemorate his experience, Father Damen commissioned two statues of the altar boys to be placed above, and looking toward, the altar in the sanctuary, where they can be seen to this day. Next time you're there, take a look. Rumor has it that the boys eyes follow the priests as they move around the altar.
Three final points: 1) Phyllis Myers, recently retired secretary in the principal's office, has a book written by Richard Crowe, the Chicago ghost hunter, which has a slightly different version, but the main theme is the same.
2) I probably shouldn't say this until I'm completely retired, but I'm not much of a ghost-believer, and I've never seen a ghost in either Ignatius or Holy Family...but...
3) I know others, whose veracity (look it up!) I respect, who say that they have had super-natural (ghostly) experiences here.
Just saying!
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Reflection #17 (Only 1059 to go!): The End of Times
Do you recognize the name Harold Camping? If not, he is the man who predicted that the world would end on May 21, 2011. Actually, he said that the "rapture" and Judgment Day would be on that date. While I didn't believe that it would happen, I also didn't write my June 1st blog until May 22...just in case.
Harold seems like a genuinely nice man who truly believed what he predicted. Afterward he expressed embarrassment and apologized for the miscalculation. My thought was, "No apologies necessary; I'm pretty happy that it didn't happen." I think for most of us, life is like a poor restaurant; no matter how bad the food was, the worst complaint is that there wasn't enough. (FYI, he has since had a stroke, as a result of stress that followed his prediction; for that I feel a little sorry for him.)
Harold's prediction and its failure to materialize prompted this recollection. In October of 1962, we had our own brush with "The End of Times". If anyone reading this blog is old enough to remember that month, I want to bring you back to the "Cuban Missile Crisis". I was in my 2nd year of teaching at Saint Ignatius High School...not College Prep.
The set-up: At the end of World War II, the U.S.A went from being a nervous ally of Russia to being the vanguard against Russia's apparent desire for world domination. For four years, there was a contentious relationship between Russia and the U.S.A., Then one day in Sept. of 1949, we found out that the Russians had “the bomb”. Through the early ‘50’s, there was paranoia, the "red scare", bomb shelters in homes, the Strategic Air Command and, perhaps most terrifying of all, the "Dooms-Day Clock"...always set a couple of minutes before midnight.
By 1962, the Russians had already launched rockets capable of carrying atomic war-heads long distances, and they were starting to erect them in Cuba, which was the first official Communist country in the western hemisphere. There was no question about their intent. Those rockets could reach every city in the U.S.
[Me being a smart a--: Luckily, we had mastered the technology of atomic bomb-resistant school desks. In case of a nuclear attack, the students were to get under their desks. We can only imagine how much longer the War-in-the-Pacific would have lasted if the Japanese had developed that technology.]
The Result: The story is longer and more complex, but toward the end of October, 1962, President Kennedy ordered a blockade of Cuban ports. For seven days, Russian cargoe ships carrying rocket parts approached Cuban waters. The long-awaited war was at hand. There had been no bill-boards warning us of the end, or radio preachers to tell us how to spend our waning moments, but we all knew we were all going to die. The "Dooms Day Clock" had mere seconds to go. Both sides had enough nuclear weapons to wipe out humanity many times over, and this was it.
On October 28th, the Russian leader, Nikita Khrushchev offered to remove their missiles from Cuba if we would remove ours from Turkey.
The Ignatius connection: During one of those days, as I was teaching one of my classes, there was a sudden loud "booom" from the direction of the lake. That's it. It's all over. Then we were told that naval pilots were practicing their super-sonic flights over Lake Michigan; it was a so-called sonic-boom. I know that the story sounds like it "fizzles", but, to those of us who experienced it, it was a high-anxiety snap-shot moment that illuminated our mortality.
Some have said that the reason the good old days were good was because we know that we have survived them. I survived the missile crisis, but I don't feel those days were all that good. At 23-years-old, I wasn't ready to "leave this vale of tears", if you get my drift. Ya know! At 72, I'm still not ready. As with the poor restaurant, life isn't perfect, but there still hasn't been enough.
Harold seems like a genuinely nice man who truly believed what he predicted. Afterward he expressed embarrassment and apologized for the miscalculation. My thought was, "No apologies necessary; I'm pretty happy that it didn't happen." I think for most of us, life is like a poor restaurant; no matter how bad the food was, the worst complaint is that there wasn't enough. (FYI, he has since had a stroke, as a result of stress that followed his prediction; for that I feel a little sorry for him.)
Harold's prediction and its failure to materialize prompted this recollection. In October of 1962, we had our own brush with "The End of Times". If anyone reading this blog is old enough to remember that month, I want to bring you back to the "Cuban Missile Crisis". I was in my 2nd year of teaching at Saint Ignatius High School...not College Prep.
The set-up: At the end of World War II, the U.S.A went from being a nervous ally of Russia to being the vanguard against Russia's apparent desire for world domination. For four years, there was a contentious relationship between Russia and the U.S.A., Then one day in Sept. of 1949, we found out that the Russians had “the bomb”. Through the early ‘50’s, there was paranoia, the "red scare", bomb shelters in homes, the Strategic Air Command and, perhaps most terrifying of all, the "Dooms-Day Clock"...always set a couple of minutes before midnight.
By 1962, the Russians had already launched rockets capable of carrying atomic war-heads long distances, and they were starting to erect them in Cuba, which was the first official Communist country in the western hemisphere. There was no question about their intent. Those rockets could reach every city in the U.S.
[Me being a smart a--: Luckily, we had mastered the technology of atomic bomb-resistant school desks. In case of a nuclear attack, the students were to get under their desks. We can only imagine how much longer the War-in-the-Pacific would have lasted if the Japanese had developed that technology.]
The Result: The story is longer and more complex, but toward the end of October, 1962, President Kennedy ordered a blockade of Cuban ports. For seven days, Russian cargoe ships carrying rocket parts approached Cuban waters. The long-awaited war was at hand. There had been no bill-boards warning us of the end, or radio preachers to tell us how to spend our waning moments, but we all knew we were all going to die. The "Dooms Day Clock" had mere seconds to go. Both sides had enough nuclear weapons to wipe out humanity many times over, and this was it.
On October 28th, the Russian leader, Nikita Khrushchev offered to remove their missiles from Cuba if we would remove ours from Turkey.
The Ignatius connection: During one of those days, as I was teaching one of my classes, there was a sudden loud "booom" from the direction of the lake. That's it. It's all over. Then we were told that naval pilots were practicing their super-sonic flights over Lake Michigan; it was a so-called sonic-boom. I know that the story sounds like it "fizzles", but, to those of us who experienced it, it was a high-anxiety snap-shot moment that illuminated our mortality.
Some have said that the reason the good old days were good was because we know that we have survived them. I survived the missile crisis, but I don't feel those days were all that good. At 23-years-old, I wasn't ready to "leave this vale of tears", if you get my drift. Ya know! At 72, I'm still not ready. As with the poor restaurant, life isn't perfect, but there still hasn't been enough.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Blog #16 (only 1060 to go): On Being German
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 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”
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Reflection #15 (Only 1061 to go!): Getting Back On The Horse
Reflection #15 (Only 1061 to go!): Getting Back On The Horse Just as singers must sing and dancers must dance, so teachers must teach...brace yourself. I was prompted to write this reflection because of an email that I received yesterday from an alumnus. We’ll call him "Bob" (not even close to his real name). In a previous note, he had disclosed a couple of bad turns his life had taken...loss of job and end of his long marriage. Yesterday, his follow-up note was positive and up-lifting. (Wait! Do those two words mean the same thing?) The problems still existed, but he had a “Life is what it is!” attitude as he sets about the task of dealing with them.
In the late summer of 1969, Carmen Pintozzi had taken his team on a retreat...a pretty standard practice in those days...to help build team spirit. He was a history teacher at Ignatius, and he was also the cross country coach. Since I was the A.D. at the time, I joined them, and one afternoon Carm and I were walking around the retreat house grounds chatting. He was 30 years old with a wife and 3 kids, all under six years old. While we walked, he was telling me his long range plan for the future. Carm loved to paint (pictures; not walls) and he was pretty good at it. When he retired, he wanted to move to Wisconsin, near a lake, and devote himself to that passion. In January of that school year, Carm passed away unexpectedly from leukemia.
Carm's widow was understandably heart-broken with the loss of her wonderful husband, and frightened by what dangers might lie ahead, but she focused her attention on her children and created for them a rich and full life. They learned well from their mother and have, in turn, each have met their own challenges head-on and persevered in a manner that has made their parents very proud.
At the age of 20, Pat O’Mara contracted polio and was wheelchair bound for the next 30-plus years of his life. Pat went on to become an outstanding teacher of math at Saint Ignatius, held many jobs at school, all the while being a loving husband and the father of six children.
A favorite saying of mine (compliments of Jillian Luzzi) is: Define your life; don’t let your life define you. If there had been a poster made with that saying, Pat’s picture would surely have been on it.
I close with a quote from the Raispis/Spalding Clichés To Live By. This was originally penned by a newspaper columnist, Sydney J. Harris: Life is the art of riding a horse backwards without reins, and learning to fall off without being trampled. There would be fewer personal catastrophes if we spent less time practicing the art of riding and more time practicing the art of falling. I would add ...and getting back up on the horse.
In the late summer of 1969, Carmen Pintozzi had taken his team on a retreat...a pretty standard practice in those days...to help build team spirit. He was a history teacher at Ignatius, and he was also the cross country coach. Since I was the A.D. at the time, I joined them, and one afternoon Carm and I were walking around the retreat house grounds chatting. He was 30 years old with a wife and 3 kids, all under six years old. While we walked, he was telling me his long range plan for the future. Carm loved to paint (pictures; not walls) and he was pretty good at it. When he retired, he wanted to move to Wisconsin, near a lake, and devote himself to that passion. In January of that school year, Carm passed away unexpectedly from leukemia.
Carm's widow was understandably heart-broken with the loss of her wonderful husband, and frightened by what dangers might lie ahead, but she focused her attention on her children and created for them a rich and full life. They learned well from their mother and have, in turn, each have met their own challenges head-on and persevered in a manner that has made their parents very proud.
At the age of 20, Pat O’Mara contracted polio and was wheelchair bound for the next 30-plus years of his life. Pat went on to become an outstanding teacher of math at Saint Ignatius, held many jobs at school, all the while being a loving husband and the father of six children.
A favorite saying of mine (compliments of Jillian Luzzi) is: Define your life; don’t let your life define you. If there had been a poster made with that saying, Pat’s picture would surely have been on it.
I close with a quote from the Raispis/Spalding Clichés To Live By. This was originally penned by a newspaper columnist, Sydney J. Harris: Life is the art of riding a horse backwards without reins, and learning to fall off without being trampled. There would be fewer personal catastrophes if we spent less time practicing the art of riding and more time practicing the art of falling. I would add ...and getting back up on the horse.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Reflection #15(Only 1061 to go): Flying Under the Radar, Deux!
Reflection #14 (Only 1062 to go!): Flying Under the Radar, Deux 2 I was prompted to write about Ray Kizelevicus after I read an article in the Chicago Tribune. No, it wasn't an article about Mr. K (Forgive the informality, but I’m too old to write his whole last name every time I refer to him. I also don’t buy green bananas any more.), but it was written by Chris McNamara, class of ‘92. Chris is the Media Manager for Lincoln Park Zoo, and he has often written articles for the Trib. I sent Chris a note complimenting him on the article. He thanked me and added that Mr. Kizelevicus had been a big influence on his becoming a professional writer.
About the same time, Tony D’Sousa, also of the class of ‘92, showed up to speak to one of Ray’s classes. Tony had spent some time in the Peace Corp, and wrote a book about his experiences, receiving several awards for his work. In conversation with Ray, other authors' names came up, all of whom had been his students and all of whom were now earning a living, and some acclaim, as writers. A few continue to stay in touch with him.
I was beginning to sense a "theme", and I wondered what there was about Ray Kizelevicus that had this effect on so many of his students. So I asked Chris for some help. He said,"...Mr. Kiz's straight forward approach, and his wry sense of humor helped make some of the dryer material more interesting." (Thanks, Chris.)
That made sense, but I had the feeling that there must be more. I tried to think of a word or description that would encapsulate what I knew of Ray. I think I have it: GOOD! Ray is a good guy, a good teacher, a good Ignatian, a good family man. In each case, the word “good” could easily be replaced by “great”. The sum total of all of these “goodness’s” made me conclude that Ray is just a good person. Ray, the “good guy” is a man with whom I feel comfortable sitting and chatting, but also someone I know that I could go to if I needed help. He would extend himself far beyond all reasonable expectations. Over the years, several times he has been asked to step up to deal with problems that have developed at school. For example, a few years ago, he was asked to step in as moderator for the yearbook which had been neglected. As usual he took over the recovery effort and did a masterful job.
Though Ray didn't go to Ignatius, I still consider him the “good Ignatian”. In addition to his official job as English teacher, at one time or another, he has served as coach for the freshmen baseball, the bowling team and the chess team. He has been the moderator of the photography club, coordinator of Open House and the Walk-For-Ignatius, and he was the uniform manager for the Athletic Department. If other teachers are considered “corner stones” of the school, Ray is definitely the “mortar”...really good mortar. He has often been called on to fill in many of the gaps in order to hold things together.
Evidence of Ray, the “good man”, combined with Ray the “good family man”, is his commitment to the service projects. In 1993, he was “recruited” by his daughter, Laura, to be as a moderator on a school-sponsored service project to a poor community in Pennsylvania. Since then, he has gone on 15 more service projects in the United States and gone to Guatemala six times, including three times on his own. His daughters, Laura and Cheryl, have accompanied him as chaperones several times.
Only his wife, Barb, knows if under his “Clark Kent” outfit, he has a red cape and a capital “S“ on his chest, but she isn’t telling.
Ray, thanks for all you mean to Saint Ignatius.
About the same time, Tony D’Sousa, also of the class of ‘92, showed up to speak to one of Ray’s classes. Tony had spent some time in the Peace Corp, and wrote a book about his experiences, receiving several awards for his work. In conversation with Ray, other authors' names came up, all of whom had been his students and all of whom were now earning a living, and some acclaim, as writers. A few continue to stay in touch with him.
I was beginning to sense a "theme", and I wondered what there was about Ray Kizelevicus that had this effect on so many of his students. So I asked Chris for some help. He said,"...Mr. Kiz's straight forward approach, and his wry sense of humor helped make some of the dryer material more interesting." (Thanks, Chris.)
That made sense, but I had the feeling that there must be more. I tried to think of a word or description that would encapsulate what I knew of Ray. I think I have it: GOOD! Ray is a good guy, a good teacher, a good Ignatian, a good family man. In each case, the word “good” could easily be replaced by “great”. The sum total of all of these “goodness’s” made me conclude that Ray is just a good person. Ray, the “good guy” is a man with whom I feel comfortable sitting and chatting, but also someone I know that I could go to if I needed help. He would extend himself far beyond all reasonable expectations. Over the years, several times he has been asked to step up to deal with problems that have developed at school. For example, a few years ago, he was asked to step in as moderator for the yearbook which had been neglected. As usual he took over the recovery effort and did a masterful job.
Though Ray didn't go to Ignatius, I still consider him the “good Ignatian”. In addition to his official job as English teacher, at one time or another, he has served as coach for the freshmen baseball, the bowling team and the chess team. He has been the moderator of the photography club, coordinator of Open House and the Walk-For-Ignatius, and he was the uniform manager for the Athletic Department. If other teachers are considered “corner stones” of the school, Ray is definitely the “mortar”...really good mortar. He has often been called on to fill in many of the gaps in order to hold things together.
Evidence of Ray, the “good man”, combined with Ray the “good family man”, is his commitment to the service projects. In 1993, he was “recruited” by his daughter, Laura, to be as a moderator on a school-sponsored service project to a poor community in Pennsylvania. Since then, he has gone on 15 more service projects in the United States and gone to Guatemala six times, including three times on his own. His daughters, Laura and Cheryl, have accompanied him as chaperones several times.
Only his wife, Barb, knows if under his “Clark Kent” outfit, he has a red cape and a capital “S“ on his chest, but she isn’t telling.
Ray, thanks for all you mean to Saint Ignatius.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Blog #14: Loose ends
Reflection #14 (Only 1062 to go!): Loose Ends
Loose end #1
I'm sorry that I didn't make it to the 4th floor for the class of '86. Some of my favorites are in that class, but, as I was about to get on the elevator, I saw Frank Raispis and he looked pretty worn out. Us (or is it "we") old-timers don't have much of a 2nd wind to catch. I was Frank's driver, so I chose to "err on the side of the angels" and we left.
Loose end #2: Following "Reflection #13", about football ending and baseball beginning, someone encouraged me to write why I thought that Fr. Koch dropped football. My opinion is based on surmise and conjecture. There are others still around who have a far better handle on that, but I will (sort of) state my opinion.
We did not have a very successful football program for the first two years that I was at Ignatius. No blame game here; remember, if I point one finger at someone, three are pointed back at me...probably pretty well aimed. But what if Father had held out one more year? There was a new coach with a new system. The junior varsity had been somewhat more successful. Who knows?
What happened before that fateful decision? Around 1958, several of the Christian Brothers high schools had pulled out of the Catholic League and formed the Chicagoland Prep League. My understanding was that they left the Catholic League in order to ratchet down interscholastic sports (not to do away with them) and improve intramural sports. I heard that they had decided to spread the use of the facilities and the expenditures more equitably through the student body by up-grading the intramural program, but I don't really know that.
Perhaps the cost of having football at St. Ignatius, combined with the fact that we weren't doing very well, lead to the decision. I was not privy to that information.
Loose End #3
I couldn’t help but think of that when I was reminiscing about Fr. Koch deciding to drop football. In “string theory*”, which I don’t understand at all, there could be an infinite number of universes in which every possible event and out-come is played out. Maybe in one of them, Ignatius didn’t drop football, and there was a different result. Just a thought. Wait! I just gave myself a head-ache.
(*It has something to do with particle physics, black-holes and 11-dimensions. I saw it on the Science channel; I think I need to get a job.): After blog #11 which included the cliché "Raispis/Spalding Clichés to Live By", someone asked that I include some more of the tenets. Perhaps at a later time, but one rule that stuck in my memory was frequently posited by Dr. Mailliard, not by Frank or me. Those of you who ran for him may have heard him say, "When we quit, we quit one day too early." If it isn't obvious, his point was that if we hung in there one more day, we would succeed.: I was very happy to see the alumni who came to the reunion(s) on April 9th. While I have to admit that my memory isn't as good as it once was (and probably never was), I was excited to hear how those of you that I knew "back in the day" were doing. Whether you're successful in your career, dealing with set-backs in a career, still training for a career, or raising a beautiful family, it's always interesting. I was talking with one alumna who, after college, spent a year in Hawaii (as a waitress) and a year in Australia. Now she’s back working for an advanced degree in her profession. At 28, she's had way more adventures than I've had at 72.
Loose end #1
I'm sorry that I didn't make it to the 4th floor for the class of '86. Some of my favorites are in that class, but, as I was about to get on the elevator, I saw Frank Raispis and he looked pretty worn out. Us (or is it "we") old-timers don't have much of a 2nd wind to catch. I was Frank's driver, so I chose to "err on the side of the angels" and we left.
Loose end #2: Following "Reflection #13", about football ending and baseball beginning, someone encouraged me to write why I thought that Fr. Koch dropped football. My opinion is based on surmise and conjecture. There are others still around who have a far better handle on that, but I will (sort of) state my opinion.
We did not have a very successful football program for the first two years that I was at Ignatius. No blame game here; remember, if I point one finger at someone, three are pointed back at me...probably pretty well aimed. But what if Father had held out one more year? There was a new coach with a new system. The junior varsity had been somewhat more successful. Who knows?
What happened before that fateful decision? Around 1958, several of the Christian Brothers high schools had pulled out of the Catholic League and formed the Chicagoland Prep League. My understanding was that they left the Catholic League in order to ratchet down interscholastic sports (not to do away with them) and improve intramural sports. I heard that they had decided to spread the use of the facilities and the expenditures more equitably through the student body by up-grading the intramural program, but I don't really know that.
Perhaps the cost of having football at St. Ignatius, combined with the fact that we weren't doing very well, lead to the decision. I was not privy to that information.
Loose End #3
I couldn’t help but think of that when I was reminiscing about Fr. Koch deciding to drop football. In “string theory*”, which I don’t understand at all, there could be an infinite number of universes in which every possible event and out-come is played out. Maybe in one of them, Ignatius didn’t drop football, and there was a different result. Just a thought. Wait! I just gave myself a head-ache.
(*It has something to do with particle physics, black-holes and 11-dimensions. I saw it on the Science channel; I think I need to get a job.): After blog #11 which included the cliché "Raispis/Spalding Clichés to Live By", someone asked that I include some more of the tenets. Perhaps at a later time, but one rule that stuck in my memory was frequently posited by Dr. Mailliard, not by Frank or me. Those of you who ran for him may have heard him say, "When we quit, we quit one day too early." If it isn't obvious, his point was that if we hung in there one more day, we would succeed.: I was very happy to see the alumni who came to the reunion(s) on April 9th. While I have to admit that my memory isn't as good as it once was (and probably never was), I was excited to hear how those of you that I knew "back in the day" were doing. Whether you're successful in your career, dealing with set-backs in a career, still training for a career, or raising a beautiful family, it's always interesting. I was talking with one alumna who, after college, spent a year in Hawaii (as a waitress) and a year in Australia. Now she’s back working for an advanced degree in her profession. At 28, she's had way more adventures than I've had at 72.
Friday, April 1, 2011
# 13 :The Great Transition or How We Got Baseball
Reflection #13 (Only 1063 to go!) The Great Transition of '63 or How WE Got Baseball
In the spring of 1963, the football coaching staff was invited to dinner at school following an afternoon of spring practice. After that, we were to meet with Fr. Koch, the president of St. Ignatius. It was a good meal, but it didn't make up for what was to follow. At that meeting, Fr. Koch told us that St. Ignatius was leaving the Chicago Catholic League and would join the Chicagoland Prep League in every sport but football. The most obvious question was, "In what league would we be playing football, Father?" Surprise, Surprise!!! We weren't going to play football in any league. Father had decided to drop football.
Over the years, there has been much speculation about why Fr. Koch made the decision to drop football, but no "official" reason was ever given. (I have my own theory!) Father Arimond, in his book about Loyola Academy football, says that there was a tradition, in earlier years, of Ignatius being a true powerhouse in football, but, by the time I got here, that tradition was something of a distant memory. For the 40 years following that fateful meeting in the spring of '63, Ignatius had NO football team.
I loved teaching at Saint Ignatius, but I had decided to teach in high school because I wanted to coach football. What now? While not all of the coaches taught at Ignatius, we all shared a love of the sport, and our reactions were some combination of confusion, sadness and anger.
While I was still licking my emotional wounds, Carmen Pintozzi had adjusted by taking the job as the cross-country coach and assistant track coach. I still refer to that as one of the great examples of casting against type in all of coaching, comparable to Kristi Yamaguchi becoming a defensive line coach in football, but he was very good at it. (Who knows? Maybe Kristi would be good too.) I still claim that some of the boys ran "cross" because they thought that they might turn out to be like Mr. Pintozzi.
One of the other coaches, Don Lucas was a most interesting guy. I would say, with admiration, he was a character, probably worthy of an article all his own. He told me that he had asked for, and received, permission from Fr. Koch to start a school baseball team. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that's when baseball started at Ignatius, and "Luke", as he was affectionately nick-named, started it all. Now, I can't be sure that Ignatius didn't have a baseball team earlier. If that's the case, for the sake of accuracy, then that's when baseball returned. I had played a fair amount of baseball in my earlier life (by that time I was nearly 24), and I told Luke that if he wanted, I'd be happy to help. Truth be told, I had played very little "baseball", but I had played a tremendous amount of softball.
Don was the varsity baseball coach for 3 years. He was the type of person who saw few, if any, limitations to what he might try. I've always admired people like that. He was not arrogant, but he also never concerned himself with the possibility of looking foolish if he failed.
He bought the teams' uniforms on Maxwell Street, and when he coached, he would wear his Ignatius uniform except for the wing-tip brown shoes that he continued to sport on the field, even while he was hitting fungoes. In bad weather, he would hold practice in the "4th floor gym" (which is now the school library), and the players would practice batting, using wiffle balls. But despite his "unusual" style, Don's teams did quite well.
Following the 1965 school year, Don left Ignatius to take a job with the city. His roll was
filled for the next 4 years by Bob Gabric, followed by me for one year, then Greg Klatecki. I'll leave the research on the succession of baseball coaches after that to others.
PLAY BALL!!!
In the spring of 1963, the football coaching staff was invited to dinner at school following an afternoon of spring practice. After that, we were to meet with Fr. Koch, the president of St. Ignatius. It was a good meal, but it didn't make up for what was to follow. At that meeting, Fr. Koch told us that St. Ignatius was leaving the Chicago Catholic League and would join the Chicagoland Prep League in every sport but football. The most obvious question was, "In what league would we be playing football, Father?" Surprise, Surprise!!! We weren't going to play football in any league. Father had decided to drop football.
Over the years, there has been much speculation about why Fr. Koch made the decision to drop football, but no "official" reason was ever given. (I have my own theory!) Father Arimond, in his book about Loyola Academy football, says that there was a tradition, in earlier years, of Ignatius being a true powerhouse in football, but, by the time I got here, that tradition was something of a distant memory. For the 40 years following that fateful meeting in the spring of '63, Ignatius had NO football team.
I loved teaching at Saint Ignatius, but I had decided to teach in high school because I wanted to coach football. What now? While not all of the coaches taught at Ignatius, we all shared a love of the sport, and our reactions were some combination of confusion, sadness and anger.
While I was still licking my emotional wounds, Carmen Pintozzi had adjusted by taking the job as the cross-country coach and assistant track coach. I still refer to that as one of the great examples of casting against type in all of coaching, comparable to Kristi Yamaguchi becoming a defensive line coach in football, but he was very good at it. (Who knows? Maybe Kristi would be good too.) I still claim that some of the boys ran "cross" because they thought that they might turn out to be like Mr. Pintozzi.
One of the other coaches, Don Lucas was a most interesting guy. I would say, with admiration, he was a character, probably worthy of an article all his own. He told me that he had asked for, and received, permission from Fr. Koch to start a school baseball team. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that's when baseball started at Ignatius, and "Luke", as he was affectionately nick-named, started it all. Now, I can't be sure that Ignatius didn't have a baseball team earlier. If that's the case, for the sake of accuracy, then that's when baseball returned. I had played a fair amount of baseball in my earlier life (by that time I was nearly 24), and I told Luke that if he wanted, I'd be happy to help. Truth be told, I had played very little "baseball", but I had played a tremendous amount of softball.
Don was the varsity baseball coach for 3 years. He was the type of person who saw few, if any, limitations to what he might try. I've always admired people like that. He was not arrogant, but he also never concerned himself with the possibility of looking foolish if he failed.
He bought the teams' uniforms on Maxwell Street, and when he coached, he would wear his Ignatius uniform except for the wing-tip brown shoes that he continued to sport on the field, even while he was hitting fungoes. In bad weather, he would hold practice in the "4th floor gym" (which is now the school library), and the players would practice batting, using wiffle balls. But despite his "unusual" style, Don's teams did quite well.
Following the 1965 school year, Don left Ignatius to take a job with the city. His roll was
filled for the next 4 years by Bob Gabric, followed by me for one year, then Greg Klatecki. I'll leave the research on the succession of baseball coaches after that to others.
PLAY BALL!!!
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