Marists All: Issue #94 November 2008
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ISSUE # 94
November 2008
http://academic2.marist.edu/foy/maristsall/
61 Golf View Drive, Little Egg Harbor, NJ 08087; 609-294-2148;
vtpoisella@yahoo.com
24 Prestwick Court, Poughkeepsie NY 12603; 845 454 1393;
richard.foy@verizon.net
65 Muirfield Court, Poughkeepsie NY 12603; 845 454 6116;
gusnolan@aol.com
476 La Playa, Edgewater, FL 32141; 386-426-6349;
jkammer1@cfl.rr.com
1013 Hollywood Avenue, Des Plaines IL 60016; 847-824-1073;
RJDB@comcast.net
▲
click on email address to send email
▲
▼click on correspondent or topic to go to that item
▼
Correspondents
William Byrne
'52
Roger R Fernandez
'54
Patrick Gallagher
'53
David Kammer
'42
Br. John Klein
'66
Jim "Ray" Morrissey
'50
Gus Nolan
'48
Joseph Pagano
'54
Br. Michael Sheerin
'74
Anne Sheridan
'55h
Topics
Marist Vocation work
grandchildren at Marist College
remembering Marist College after 50 years
memories of Tyngsboro
John Reynolds
Clem Martin
In Memoriam
Br Luke Driscoll
Br Vincent Damian
René St. George
Thomas P Mullen
* * *
Photo album - recent postings
Related websites
From BR. MIKE SHEERIN (’74): With “collaboration” a “buzz” word these days, I am
happy to write about a collaborative effort which bore initial good fruit. I am presently
beginning my second year as a “recycled” vocation director for the USA Province, a post I held
once before from 1994-2000 for the former Esopus Province. A few months ago Br. Rene Roy
emailed me about a high school senior with a possible Marist vocation. Rene found out about
this young man through John Reynolds. After an email or two with the senior, Rene asked him if
he could forward his name to me, the vocation director. The senior agreed, and I began to
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electronically communicate with him. The mode of operations of any vocation director is to first
try to assess an inquirer’s seriousness, then move to phone calls, and finally personal visits if
all goes well. The young man about whom I am speaking, Sam, in many ways is a typical
eighteen year-old and at the same time atypical. One minute he can talk about high school
scouting experiences and the senior prom, and the next, about the spirituality of Thomas
Merton or Teresa of Avila. His interest in religious life is real, as real as any eighteen year-old
young man can be. When I asked him about joining our new initial process called
“Accompaniment” (“Contact Program’s” successor), he expressed strong interest. He has read
Water From The Rock about Marist Spirituality, and we have discussed it over the phone.
I mentioned collaboration earlier, and I am grateful to John Reynolds for his collaborative
vigilance of Sam and his recommending him to us. Who knows where Sam will end up? But for
these moments in his young life, he is being exposed to a charism that might become one of
the best gifts he has ever received. Hasn’t this been true for so many of us? Sam sensed the
Marist charism in John Reynolds at Powers Catholic High School in Flint, and at John’s
prompting has thrown himself into Marist’s wide net.
I am quite impressed with Sam and have not even met him face to face. I will travel to
meet him this year at John Carroll University where he is matriculating. To you, John, on behalf
of us all, I thank you for noticing Sam and being his first “vocation director.” I hope I will be as
vigilant. Indeed, it is a collaborative Marist effort. If any of our Marists All readers know of a
young man and sense he might benefit from initially talking about the possibility of Marist
religious life for himself, please feel free to let me know. Many thanks. (26 First Avenue,
Pelham, NY 10803; 914-751-9735;
bromikes@gmail.com
)
<<=== return to index
From JIM “Ray” MORRISSEY (’50): Over Labor Day weekend one of our grandsons
entered the freshman class at Marist, the third generation. This event triggered my reflection
concerning the influence of the Marist community in my life and that of our family.
My young world was dramatically changed in the spring of 1947 when Br. Aidan entered
my geometry class at Cardinal Hayes High School and told us of a better world with the
Brothers starting at the fabled estate called Esopus. Events followed that shaped my entire
life: such as going to college and studying mathematics which led to a life-long
teaching/administrative career; meeting my future wife Jean through her good friend Sheila
Casey, sister to Br. Frank Casey; three sons attending Marist College and later marrying three
ladies from Marist.
One of our sons, J.R., majored in fashion design at Marist and is now a member of that
Board and has had interns from the college work with him in Manhattan. In June of this year,
Jean and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary attended by our five children, their
spouses, and ten grandchildren. I do believe that Br. Aidan with his tassel-twirling cincture was
responsible for this grand Marist life. (
oakledge47@aol.com
)
<<=== return to index
From ROGER R. FERNANDEZ): In everybody’s life, there are memorable points whose
luster neither years nor distance will ever erode nor erase. One of those precious moments
was, for me, this year’s fiftieth reunion of the 1958 graduation class at Marist College. Such
occasion, on a diamond-pure sun-glittering day, was much more than just “a nice reunion
event”: it truly became an uplifting and inspiring experience.
I was deeply touched and profoundly moved to meet some of the men with whom I had
prayed, studied, worked and played for four years during my scholasticate at Marist. Except for
Kenneth Mannix, whom I saw at the New York Harbor last year at the return of a cruise through
New England, I had my first encounter since our graduation with Brothers Richard Shea, Joseph
Maura, and Daniel Grogan, and with John Carroll, William Maher, and Robert Toole. I was
overcome with joy and truly honored when Br. Richard and Kenneth joined me, my wife Lucille,
and our two guests Wally and Corinn at our table for the tasty and delicious dinner at the
Student Center Cabaret.
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College President Dennis Murray presented each one of us, the celebrants, with a watch
that bears the inscription “Marist College, Poughkeepsie,” and the big Marist “M,” which in turn,
is crowned with the motto, Orare et Laborare. Also engraved under that inscription appears
“1958.” For its part, the Alumni Office provided us with a copy of “our” yearbook. I enjoy
reviewing it frequently nowadays, not only because I assisted Brothers John Regis and Jude
Robert in its production, but especially, because it rekindles so many memories. And that was
not all there was to overwhelm us with emotion and feelings. Robert Toole brought to this
unforgettable gathering an 11x8 picture of our class taken in front of the basement of the old
library building. He showed it around. A few days later, I received from him a copy in the mail.
It is, to be sure, a most relished souvenir that I fondly plan to frame and display on a wall in
my office.
Many people had warned me that I would not recognize the place. Sure enough: at first, I
did not know where I was. As my guest Wally drove through the campus I was in awe at the
breathtaking beautified reconfiguration of the grounds. Some thoughts roamed through my
mind…. Here I read, more than half a century ago, Milton’s “Paradise Lost” in Dr. Schroeder’s
literature class. Half way between then and now, I visited Portugal’s Sintra, which Lord Byron
described as “Glorious Eden… that contains beauties of every description natural and artificial…”
On that sunny Saturday of October 4, 2008, as I entered and toured Marist College, I thought
of it as a heavenly abode of wisdom that overlooks the Hudson River and can capture the idyllic
love of nature and provide a pleasant environ to satisfy the need of learning.
Then I saw a building I well remember: Our Lady Seat of Wisdom chapel. I entered to
pray at the pew I used when I was a scholastic there. That pew was removed and replaced by
the organ, which was moved a few feet left from its original place. I did not dare to play the
organ as I did then during some breaks. I knelt at a pew between the organ and the altar and
did my praying before visiting its surroundings. I liked in particular the statue of St. Marcellin
Champagnat and his small monument with students on the chapel grounds. An observation
came to my mind… “When I first was here, I had two names: ‘Benedict Marcellin.’ Now, fifty
years later, when I return to visit and celebrate, there is a Pope, ‘Benedict,’ and a saint
‘Marcellin,’ and I am neither….” For those of you who remember me, I continue to be
“Benedicite.” (
rlfincas@sbcglobal.net
)
<<=== return to index
From JOSEPH PAGANO (‘59): When I left the novitiate, I worked for a year and
then enrolled at Iona College from which I was graduated in ‘63. I taught a couple of years at
Iona Prep, then ended up taking a position as a French teacher in the Ogdensburg
school district where I taught until my retirement in ‘98. I got my masters at Potsdam State
University.
I have to say that when I left the novitiate I fell completely away from my religion. But
“The Hound of Heaven" wouldn't let me be. When we got married, Lynne kept going to church
and taking the children. I knew I had to get back to God!
Now I'm quite active in our small country church, St. Raphael, where I'm a trustee, a
lector, a Eucharistic minister and many times a parish council member. I'm also a member of
our recently formed K. of C. council. So I've come full circle and cannot live without my faith,
much of which I attribute to St. Agnes and St. Joe's.
A funny thing about Lynne and myself is that we're both from the metropolitan area
(she's from Yonkers), but we met up here in northern New York. We happened to meet at a
wedding of her friend. She was a student at SUNY Potsdam, and I was teaching up here.
The other night while I lay thinking, I started to remember things about the novitiate. I
remember having to pick potatoes in the field and actually enjoying it. Some other things I
thought of:
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Br. Peter checking on us to see if we were talking
Peeling potatoes
Climbing a mountain
Skating on the frozen lake
Hanging on for dear life on the back of the truck when Br. Peter drove
Opening the summer camp in not-so-summery weather
Helping build the road
Visiting the quarry: the real one
Swimming in the quarry
Eating our meals in silence while someone read aloud
Drinking boiled coffee and getting used to it
Walking in circles after dinner
Ice skating in the meadow
The beautiful colors in the fall
Sorting the laundry
Salve Regina in the morning
Having to go to the bathroom every morning during meditation
Replacing the ropes in the windows with chains
Being asked to wash the windows on the top floor but too afraid
Helping in the kitchen and dining room
Playing all the different sports and pool
Helping Br. Mark in the barn one morning
Making the markers for the football field
But probably the best thing was being close to our Lord every day with mass and prayers
and meditation.
The most difficult thing was coming to the realization that being a Brother was not for me
and having the feeling of guilt.
Sorry that I rambled on so much, but I couldn't resist the flood of memories. Que Dieu
vous benisse! (630 County Route 4, Ogdensburg, NY 13669; 315-393-7103;
joelynne@localnet.com
)
From DAVID KAMMER (’42): I just finished reading the interview of Gus Nolan by the
archivist at the library of Marist College on the site
<
http://library.marist.edu/archives/oral history.html
> Thanks, Gus. Great contribution to
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all of our causes! I can't wait to read the interviews with Rich Foy, Richard LaPietra, and Joe
Bel.
<<=== return to index
In Memoriam: Br. Luke Driscoll FMS
From The Newsletter of the Marist Brothers of the Province of the
United States of America (Br. Hank Hammer (’75), editor): Luke’s
recent wake and funeral mass were celebrations of the life of a wonderful
man and Marist Brother. Testimonies at the wake and eulogies at the
funeral mass described a man who had a profound effect on the lives of
so many people with whom he came in contact.
Luke retired to the Champagnat Hall community (at Mt. St.
Michael) where he lived until his death on September 9, 2008.
Unlike most Marist Brothers who received two religious names,
Luke was one of the few to receive only one. As a result, many knew
him as “J.P. Luke” or “Just Plain Luke.” Anyone who came in contact with
Luke knows that there was nothing plain about him. He was an extraordinary man who had the
ability to influence the lives and hearts of so many people.
Luke loved his immediate and extended families and all his “cousins.” He loved his Marist
Brothers as much and was a wonderful example of what it meant to be a brother with a small
“b.”
The conversations about Luke will continue for a long time, for he will be missed by so
many. While there are many appropriate Scripture passages that one could quote when
thinking of Luke, it’s so wonderfully Irish and so wonderfully Luke to think also of “When Irish
Eyes Are Smiling.” Rest in peace, Luke!
click here
for J P's assignments as a Marist Brother
From WILLIAM BYRNE (’52): In 1948, I roamed the halls of Cardinal Hayes High
School with, among others, Regis Philbin and the controversial Father Louis Gigante. Like all of
the other 2000 students there in those days, I brag on how we were close classmates. Untrue
of course, but it makes good copy. In those days, diocesan priests made up most of the
faculty, with a smattering of Xaverian, Irish Christian, LaSalle and Marist Brothers. The Marists
were in charge of the math department and late report card retrieval. (Does anyone know what
became of the Fifth Avenue mansion the monks occupied?) It was at Hayes that I first came in
contact with the Marist monks, both for poor math grades and poor report card maintenance.
Afraid as I was of Brother Vincent Dominic, then department chair and report card warden, I
remember being intrigued by the talk and tassel-twirling routine Brother Aidan Francis gave
us. I was quickly corralled into the Marist Juniorate at Esopus in my junior year. Regis and Lou
would have to do without their “good buddy.”
At the juniorate, all of us teen Marist aspirants came under the influence of Brother Luke,
“J.P.” as he came to be known. For me, and similarly for others, I’m sure, he was the “father
figure” that replaced my own recently departed father and the “”big brother” that some of us
left at home. The genuine interest he took in each of us went a long way to helping us on the
Marist way. I can say with my own certainty that had it not been for him, who knows how I
might have turned out?
I spent two years in community life with him at Molloy and honestly found that strange.
How do you rub elbows with someone who was a hero and mentor to you? How do you
pretend that he was “just another monk” when in reality he meant infinitely more to you? I
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tried to express my gratitude in a short note to him when I found out he wasn’t feeling well in
his last years. I have this idea, garnered from reading too much fiction or seeing too many
“Notebook” type movies, that someone will find that note as they go through his remaining
artifacts and return it to me: a comforting fiction, but ultimately an unnecessary one. I’m sure
he knows now how much I, and others, appreciated him; how grateful we are for his interest in
us and his efforts on our behalf. We also know he will never stop interceding for us, his “old
boys.” <
davbakou@yahoo.com
>
From PATRICK GALLAGHER (’53): Brother Luke Driscoll died just short of 92 years of
age, and for 58 years, to a varying degree he has been a part of my life, a friend as he was to
so many others, and the exemplar of a humble man, a saintly man, an extraordinary teacher,
and a remarkable Marist Brother.
I first met him when I was 14, in my sophomore year of high school when I entered the
Esopus Juniorate. With the few faculty and their multiple preparations, I was lucky enough to
have him as my teacher for Latin, French and English during those two years. He was a
fantastic teacher, so very well organized epitomizing the qualities that I wanted to develop as I
moved closer to teaching as my profession. In those juniorate days, he also stood before us as
a great hockey player and an imperturbable referee in basketball games. Most importantly, he
was a very real Marist Brother.
I never taught alongside him, but in the intervening years, especially after I formally left
the Order, I saw little of him but heard of the variety of commitments to various apostolates.
About twelve years ago, Mary and I visited Ed Cashin in Augusta and also stopped in to see
Luke, who while in "retirement" was still very active with hospital work.
Then about a year later, like Msgr. Bill Sears, while driving up the east coast, he stopped
in and stayed with us for three enjoyable days while we had the b-n-b in the Blue Ridge
Mountains of Virginia. In long conversations we sensed the dimensions of this wonderful
person.
We had a custom of asking our visitors to select a tree from the property that would be
their tree and that they were to come back and see it again. Others had chosen the tall oaks or
the massive tulip trees. Luke selected a gnarled old dogwood in the middle of a field. It had
been right close to an old farmhouse that we had to tear down. I grasped the significance of his
choice: nothing of the towering offerings, but the comparatively tiny dogwood, with its beautiful
white flowers. Every time I came by with the riding mower to cut the grass I thought of Luke; I
sent him pictures of his tree in bloom. And it was a very fitting image of Luke, for it stood out
so much from its taller neighbors; it flowered so beautifully, and it endured. He was a valued
speaker at the Marist weekends at the college every July, talking of a deep yet practical
spirituality. I, and legions of others, will miss him. (
gpatrickgallagher11@verizon.net
)
<<=== return to index
From ANNE SHERIDAN (wife of FRANCIS X. SHERIDAN (’55): When I think of
Luke, the word “leprechaun” always comes to mind. His broad smile, twinkling blue eyes, and
wonderful Irish sense of humor are engraved in my heart.
I learned recently -- at Luke’s wake, actually – that he was known for the vast number of
“cousins” he had. Apparently, he referred to all the women with whom he worked or associated
with in any way as his “cousins”!
I once told Luke that he was truly “blest among women,” because we would always seek
him out, elbowing each other to sit next to him. For that reason, I suggest that he be
remembered as Luke Driscoll, FMS/BAW. (
fxsheridan@hotmail.com
)
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From GUS NOLAN (‘48): The death of Bro. Luke Driscoll touched the hearts of many
Marists and the extended families of Marists. The family of a former
Marist, Clem Martin, was particularly moved by the occasion. Bro Luke
was always close to the Martin family. Let me give you a little
background.
Clem Martin came to Esopus in the fall of ‘46 from the Bronx where
he attended Mt. St. Michael and had Br. Luke as a teacher. Clem (as Br.
Luke Anselm) went through training, was graduated from Marian (Marist)
having majored in Spanish, and taught at St. Ann's Academy,
Christopher Columbus High School, and Brownsville (TX). I lost close
contact with him for a few years during which time he left the Brothers
and married. Next time I saw him – this time with his wife Socorro and
their four children Ali, Mani, Clem, and Sam -- was at Cold Spring for
one of the early GMC picnics. We were in close contact for the next few years, but Clem was
suffering from diabetes and passed away in July 1988 and was buried on July 26 of that year. A
group of us who had visited him in his ailing years formed a contingent of Marists, including
Richard LaPietra and Br. Stephen, to sing at Clem Martin's funeral Mass. It was a beautiful
farewell to a wonderful husband, father, a very talented teacher, a gifted and competitive
athlete, and a very great friend of so many.
The family grew and went to various colleges and moved away from Rockland County.
Young Clem Martin came from Chicago for Br. Luke Driscoll's wake and funeral. On that
occasion he learned of Marists All and has written to me. I asked for an update of the family.
The oldest, Ali, lives in North Carolina, has two children, and teaches fourth grade. Mani is a
guidance counselor in Holliston, MA, also with two children. Clem graduated from Holy Cross
and is now principal of St. Frances of Rome in Chicago, and Sam graduated from West Point,
did his military duty, and is now living in Quincy, MA with his wife, a lawyer. He and Clem
must be in excellent health as they ran in the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC this
past October.
<<=== return to index
In Memoriam: Brother Vincent Damian FMS
From BR. JOHN KLEIN: Last evening Br. Vincent Damian passed away at Lawrence
Hospital in Bronxville, NY. Since this past July he had undergone several hospitalizations, a brief
stay at Clark Rehab, and most recently lived with the Champagnat Hall community. These have
been difficult days for him and now we believe and know that he is at peace with the God he
truly loved.
His years as Secretary in the Provincial Office, his leadership as Principal at both Roselle
Catholic and Marist High School, and his years of service on the Provincial Council speak
volumes of his dedication, talent, faith and his love for his Brothers. Whatever he did, he did
with sensitivity and class. We will always remember his role in preparing the 100
th
Anniversary
Celebration of the Marist Brothers in the United States in 1986.
Br. Vincent Damian was a good and decent man, a wonderful Marist Brother who
embodied the charism of Father Champagnat. In so many ways he helped shape the life of the
Marist Brothers in the U.S. during the past five decades, and we will always be in his debt.
In Memoriam: Rene M. St. George
Rene M.
St. George, a former Marist Brother, 82, a resident of the Pleasant View Nursing Home
in Concord, NH, died November 6, 2008, following a period of failing health. He held positions
as principal of Central Catholic High School in Lawrence, MA, principal of St. Joseph's High
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School in Lowell, MA, and assistant principal of Central Catholic High School in
Wheeling, WV. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to Catholic
Charities.
<<=== return to index
In Memoriam: Thomas P. Mullen
From THE MIAMI HERALD, SEPTEMBER 6, 2008, BY
ELINOR J. BRECHE AND CAROL MARBIN MILLER: Thomas P. Mullen, the
one-time Marist Brother and social worker who founded the Passageway
Program -- a Miami halfway house for mentally ill offenders -- has died
unexpectedly at 64. Mullen was revered in South Florida mental-health
circles and beyond for his dedication to a widely reviled population:
defendants found not guilty by reason of insanity who had been released
into the community from psychiatric hospitals or treatment centers, most
with a paranoid schizophrenia diagnosis. To his endeavor, Mullen brought the social conscience
of a 1960s activist. Influenced by the pacifist Catholic Worker movement of the mid-20th
century, he nonetheless wore the cynicism and irony of a man accustomed to battling prejudice
and bureaucracy. A Marist College graduate and member of the religious order that founded it,
he earned a master's degree in social work at Barry University and taught at Columbus High
School. (
ebrecher@MiamiHerald.com
)
click here
for obituary on Thomas P Mullen
<<=== return to index
* * * * *
(Thanks to those who have recently sent contributions to Marists All: Tom Murphy
(Binsky)’51, Dennis Hartnett ’63, Richard Foy ‘45, Joe Hores ‘49, and Paul Maloney ‘59.
Also, we have chosen to send paper copies of Marists All by postal mail to our friends
whose e-mail addresses have not been updated in our database. As a result the number
of our postal mailings has increased notably ... and the cost of mailing becomes somewhat
of a problem. Please send your updated e-mail address to Rob Schmid or to one of the
other of the Marists All team. Thank you. Editor)
Now a note from the web site editor, Rich Foy. I experimented this issue
with placing some photos to help you identify the persons, either writers or
subjects. They are not perfect, but they are a start. Perhaps you can send
us a better photo of yourself when you write something for publication. We
can scan it here and return the photo. Or else computer savvy writers may
send us a *.jpg. I would prefer a current photo. No sense sending one from
the '60s or '70s. Readers remember what you looked like in your teens and
twenties; they want to find out how well or ill you've aged.
<<=== return to index
return to ===>>
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ISSUE # 94
November 2008
http://academic2.marist.edu/foy/maristsall/
61 Golf View Drive, Little Egg Harbor, NJ 08087; 609-294-2148;
vtpoisella@yahoo.com
24 Prestwick Court, Poughkeepsie NY 12603; 845 454 1393;
richard.foy@verizon.net
65 Muirfield Court, Poughkeepsie NY 12603; 845 454 6116;
gusnolan@aol.com
476 La Playa, Edgewater, FL 32141; 386-426-6349;
jkammer1@cfl.rr.com
1013 Hollywood Avenue, Des Plaines IL 60016; 847-824-1073;
RJDB@comcast.net
▲
click on email address to send email
▲
▼click on correspondent or topic to go to that item
▼
Correspondents
William Byrne
'52
Roger R Fernandez
'54
Patrick Gallagher
'53
David Kammer
'42
Br. John Klein
'66
Jim "Ray" Morrissey
'50
Gus Nolan
'48
Joseph Pagano
'54
Br. Michael Sheerin
'74
Anne Sheridan
'55h
Topics
Marist Vocation work
grandchildren at Marist College
remembering Marist College after 50 years
memories of Tyngsboro
John Reynolds
Clem Martin
In Memoriam
Br Luke Driscoll
Br Vincent Damian
René St. George
Thomas P Mullen
* * *
Photo album - recent postings
Related websites
From BR. MIKE SHEERIN (’74): With “collaboration” a “buzz” word these days, I am
happy to write about a collaborative effort which bore initial good fruit. I am presently
beginning my second year as a “recycled” vocation director for the USA Province, a post I held
once before from 1994-2000 for the former Esopus Province. A few months ago Br. Rene Roy
emailed me about a high school senior with a possible Marist vocation. Rene found out about
this young man through John Reynolds. After an email or two with the senior, Rene asked him if
he could forward his name to me, the vocation director. The senior agreed, and I began to
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electronically communicate with him. The mode of operations of any vocation director is to first
try to assess an inquirer’s seriousness, then move to phone calls, and finally personal visits if
all goes well. The young man about whom I am speaking, Sam, in many ways is a typical
eighteen year-old and at the same time atypical. One minute he can talk about high school
scouting experiences and the senior prom, and the next, about the spirituality of Thomas
Merton or Teresa of Avila. His interest in religious life is real, as real as any eighteen year-old
young man can be. When I asked him about joining our new initial process called
“Accompaniment” (“Contact Program’s” successor), he expressed strong interest. He has read
Water From The Rock about Marist Spirituality, and we have discussed it over the phone.
I mentioned collaboration earlier, and I am grateful to John Reynolds for his collaborative
vigilance of Sam and his recommending him to us. Who knows where Sam will end up? But for
these moments in his young life, he is being exposed to a charism that might become one of
the best gifts he has ever received. Hasn’t this been true for so many of us? Sam sensed the
Marist charism in John Reynolds at Powers Catholic High School in Flint, and at John’s
prompting has thrown himself into Marist’s wide net.
I am quite impressed with Sam and have not even met him face to face. I will travel to
meet him this year at John Carroll University where he is matriculating. To you, John, on behalf
of us all, I thank you for noticing Sam and being his first “vocation director.” I hope I will be as
vigilant. Indeed, it is a collaborative Marist effort. If any of our Marists All readers know of a
young man and sense he might benefit from initially talking about the possibility of Marist
religious life for himself, please feel free to let me know. Many thanks. (26 First Avenue,
Pelham, NY 10803; 914-751-9735;
bromikes@gmail.com
)
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From JIM “Ray” MORRISSEY (’50): Over Labor Day weekend one of our grandsons
entered the freshman class at Marist, the third generation. This event triggered my reflection
concerning the influence of the Marist community in my life and that of our family.
My young world was dramatically changed in the spring of 1947 when Br. Aidan entered
my geometry class at Cardinal Hayes High School and told us of a better world with the
Brothers starting at the fabled estate called Esopus. Events followed that shaped my entire
life: such as going to college and studying mathematics which led to a life-long
teaching/administrative career; meeting my future wife Jean through her good friend Sheila
Casey, sister to Br. Frank Casey; three sons attending Marist College and later marrying three
ladies from Marist.
One of our sons, J.R., majored in fashion design at Marist and is now a member of that
Board and has had interns from the college work with him in Manhattan. In June of this year,
Jean and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary attended by our five children, their
spouses, and ten grandchildren. I do believe that Br. Aidan with his tassel-twirling cincture was
responsible for this grand Marist life. (
oakledge47@aol.com
)
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From ROGER R. FERNANDEZ): In everybody’s life, there are memorable points whose
luster neither years nor distance will ever erode nor erase. One of those precious moments
was, for me, this year’s fiftieth reunion of the 1958 graduation class at Marist College. Such
occasion, on a diamond-pure sun-glittering day, was much more than just “a nice reunion
event”: it truly became an uplifting and inspiring experience.
I was deeply touched and profoundly moved to meet some of the men with whom I had
prayed, studied, worked and played for four years during my scholasticate at Marist. Except for
Kenneth Mannix, whom I saw at the New York Harbor last year at the return of a cruise through
New England, I had my first encounter since our graduation with Brothers Richard Shea, Joseph
Maura, and Daniel Grogan, and with John Carroll, William Maher, and Robert Toole. I was
overcome with joy and truly honored when Br. Richard and Kenneth joined me, my wife Lucille,
and our two guests Wally and Corinn at our table for the tasty and delicious dinner at the
Student Center Cabaret.
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College President Dennis Murray presented each one of us, the celebrants, with a watch
that bears the inscription “Marist College, Poughkeepsie,” and the big Marist “M,” which in turn,
is crowned with the motto, Orare et Laborare. Also engraved under that inscription appears
“1958.” For its part, the Alumni Office provided us with a copy of “our” yearbook. I enjoy
reviewing it frequently nowadays, not only because I assisted Brothers John Regis and Jude
Robert in its production, but especially, because it rekindles so many memories. And that was
not all there was to overwhelm us with emotion and feelings. Robert Toole brought to this
unforgettable gathering an 11x8 picture of our class taken in front of the basement of the old
library building. He showed it around. A few days later, I received from him a copy in the mail.
It is, to be sure, a most relished souvenir that I fondly plan to frame and display on a wall in
my office.
Many people had warned me that I would not recognize the place. Sure enough: at first, I
did not know where I was. As my guest Wally drove through the campus I was in awe at the
breathtaking beautified reconfiguration of the grounds. Some thoughts roamed through my
mind…. Here I read, more than half a century ago, Milton’s “Paradise Lost” in Dr. Schroeder’s
literature class. Half way between then and now, I visited Portugal’s Sintra, which Lord Byron
described as “Glorious Eden… that contains beauties of every description natural and artificial…”
On that sunny Saturday of October 4, 2008, as I entered and toured Marist College, I thought
of it as a heavenly abode of wisdom that overlooks the Hudson River and can capture the idyllic
love of nature and provide a pleasant environ to satisfy the need of learning.
Then I saw a building I well remember: Our Lady Seat of Wisdom chapel. I entered to
pray at the pew I used when I was a scholastic there. That pew was removed and replaced by
the organ, which was moved a few feet left from its original place. I did not dare to play the
organ as I did then during some breaks. I knelt at a pew between the organ and the altar and
did my praying before visiting its surroundings. I liked in particular the statue of St. Marcellin
Champagnat and his small monument with students on the chapel grounds. An observation
came to my mind… “When I first was here, I had two names: ‘Benedict Marcellin.’ Now, fifty
years later, when I return to visit and celebrate, there is a Pope, ‘Benedict,’ and a saint
‘Marcellin,’ and I am neither….” For those of you who remember me, I continue to be
“Benedicite.” (
rlfincas@sbcglobal.net
)
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From JOSEPH PAGANO (‘59): When I left the novitiate, I worked for a year and
then enrolled at Iona College from which I was graduated in ‘63. I taught a couple of years at
Iona Prep, then ended up taking a position as a French teacher in the Ogdensburg
school district where I taught until my retirement in ‘98. I got my masters at Potsdam State
University.
I have to say that when I left the novitiate I fell completely away from my religion. But
“The Hound of Heaven" wouldn't let me be. When we got married, Lynne kept going to church
and taking the children. I knew I had to get back to God!
Now I'm quite active in our small country church, St. Raphael, where I'm a trustee, a
lector, a Eucharistic minister and many times a parish council member. I'm also a member of
our recently formed K. of C. council. So I've come full circle and cannot live without my faith,
much of which I attribute to St. Agnes and St. Joe's.
A funny thing about Lynne and myself is that we're both from the metropolitan area
(she's from Yonkers), but we met up here in northern New York. We happened to meet at a
wedding of her friend. She was a student at SUNY Potsdam, and I was teaching up here.
The other night while I lay thinking, I started to remember things about the novitiate. I
remember having to pick potatoes in the field and actually enjoying it. Some other things I
thought of:
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Br. Peter checking on us to see if we were talking
Peeling potatoes
Climbing a mountain
Skating on the frozen lake
Hanging on for dear life on the back of the truck when Br. Peter drove
Opening the summer camp in not-so-summery weather
Helping build the road
Visiting the quarry: the real one
Swimming in the quarry
Eating our meals in silence while someone read aloud
Drinking boiled coffee and getting used to it
Walking in circles after dinner
Ice skating in the meadow
The beautiful colors in the fall
Sorting the laundry
Salve Regina in the morning
Having to go to the bathroom every morning during meditation
Replacing the ropes in the windows with chains
Being asked to wash the windows on the top floor but too afraid
Helping in the kitchen and dining room
Playing all the different sports and pool
Helping Br. Mark in the barn one morning
Making the markers for the football field
But probably the best thing was being close to our Lord every day with mass and prayers
and meditation.
The most difficult thing was coming to the realization that being a Brother was not for me
and having the feeling of guilt.
Sorry that I rambled on so much, but I couldn't resist the flood of memories. Que Dieu
vous benisse! (630 County Route 4, Ogdensburg, NY 13669; 315-393-7103;
joelynne@localnet.com
)
From DAVID KAMMER (’42): I just finished reading the interview of Gus Nolan by the
archivist at the library of Marist College on the site
<
http://library.marist.edu/archives/oral history.html
> Thanks, Gus. Great contribution to
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all of our causes! I can't wait to read the interviews with Rich Foy, Richard LaPietra, and Joe
Bel.
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In Memoriam: Br. Luke Driscoll FMS
From The Newsletter of the Marist Brothers of the Province of the
United States of America (Br. Hank Hammer (’75), editor): Luke’s
recent wake and funeral mass were celebrations of the life of a wonderful
man and Marist Brother. Testimonies at the wake and eulogies at the
funeral mass described a man who had a profound effect on the lives of
so many people with whom he came in contact.
Luke retired to the Champagnat Hall community (at Mt. St.
Michael) where he lived until his death on September 9, 2008.
Unlike most Marist Brothers who received two religious names,
Luke was one of the few to receive only one. As a result, many knew
him as “J.P. Luke” or “Just Plain Luke.” Anyone who came in contact with
Luke knows that there was nothing plain about him. He was an extraordinary man who had the
ability to influence the lives and hearts of so many people.
Luke loved his immediate and extended families and all his “cousins.” He loved his Marist
Brothers as much and was a wonderful example of what it meant to be a brother with a small
“b.”
The conversations about Luke will continue for a long time, for he will be missed by so
many. While there are many appropriate Scripture passages that one could quote when
thinking of Luke, it’s so wonderfully Irish and so wonderfully Luke to think also of “When Irish
Eyes Are Smiling.” Rest in peace, Luke!
click here
for J P's assignments as a Marist Brother
From WILLIAM BYRNE (’52): In 1948, I roamed the halls of Cardinal Hayes High
School with, among others, Regis Philbin and the controversial Father Louis Gigante. Like all of
the other 2000 students there in those days, I brag on how we were close classmates. Untrue
of course, but it makes good copy. In those days, diocesan priests made up most of the
faculty, with a smattering of Xaverian, Irish Christian, LaSalle and Marist Brothers. The Marists
were in charge of the math department and late report card retrieval. (Does anyone know what
became of the Fifth Avenue mansion the monks occupied?) It was at Hayes that I first came in
contact with the Marist monks, both for poor math grades and poor report card maintenance.
Afraid as I was of Brother Vincent Dominic, then department chair and report card warden, I
remember being intrigued by the talk and tassel-twirling routine Brother Aidan Francis gave
us. I was quickly corralled into the Marist Juniorate at Esopus in my junior year. Regis and Lou
would have to do without their “good buddy.”
At the juniorate, all of us teen Marist aspirants came under the influence of Brother Luke,
“J.P.” as he came to be known. For me, and similarly for others, I’m sure, he was the “father
figure” that replaced my own recently departed father and the “”big brother” that some of us
left at home. The genuine interest he took in each of us went a long way to helping us on the
Marist way. I can say with my own certainty that had it not been for him, who knows how I
might have turned out?
I spent two years in community life with him at Molloy and honestly found that strange.
How do you rub elbows with someone who was a hero and mentor to you? How do you
pretend that he was “just another monk” when in reality he meant infinitely more to you? I
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tried to express my gratitude in a short note to him when I found out he wasn’t feeling well in
his last years. I have this idea, garnered from reading too much fiction or seeing too many
“Notebook” type movies, that someone will find that note as they go through his remaining
artifacts and return it to me: a comforting fiction, but ultimately an unnecessary one. I’m sure
he knows now how much I, and others, appreciated him; how grateful we are for his interest in
us and his efforts on our behalf. We also know he will never stop interceding for us, his “old
boys.” <
davbakou@yahoo.com
>
From PATRICK GALLAGHER (’53): Brother Luke Driscoll died just short of 92 years of
age, and for 58 years, to a varying degree he has been a part of my life, a friend as he was to
so many others, and the exemplar of a humble man, a saintly man, an extraordinary teacher,
and a remarkable Marist Brother.
I first met him when I was 14, in my sophomore year of high school when I entered the
Esopus Juniorate. With the few faculty and their multiple preparations, I was lucky enough to
have him as my teacher for Latin, French and English during those two years. He was a
fantastic teacher, so very well organized epitomizing the qualities that I wanted to develop as I
moved closer to teaching as my profession. In those juniorate days, he also stood before us as
a great hockey player and an imperturbable referee in basketball games. Most importantly, he
was a very real Marist Brother.
I never taught alongside him, but in the intervening years, especially after I formally left
the Order, I saw little of him but heard of the variety of commitments to various apostolates.
About twelve years ago, Mary and I visited Ed Cashin in Augusta and also stopped in to see
Luke, who while in "retirement" was still very active with hospital work.
Then about a year later, like Msgr. Bill Sears, while driving up the east coast, he stopped
in and stayed with us for three enjoyable days while we had the b-n-b in the Blue Ridge
Mountains of Virginia. In long conversations we sensed the dimensions of this wonderful
person.
We had a custom of asking our visitors to select a tree from the property that would be
their tree and that they were to come back and see it again. Others had chosen the tall oaks or
the massive tulip trees. Luke selected a gnarled old dogwood in the middle of a field. It had
been right close to an old farmhouse that we had to tear down. I grasped the significance of his
choice: nothing of the towering offerings, but the comparatively tiny dogwood, with its beautiful
white flowers. Every time I came by with the riding mower to cut the grass I thought of Luke; I
sent him pictures of his tree in bloom. And it was a very fitting image of Luke, for it stood out
so much from its taller neighbors; it flowered so beautifully, and it endured. He was a valued
speaker at the Marist weekends at the college every July, talking of a deep yet practical
spirituality. I, and legions of others, will miss him. (
gpatrickgallagher11@verizon.net
)
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From ANNE SHERIDAN (wife of FRANCIS X. SHERIDAN (’55): When I think of
Luke, the word “leprechaun” always comes to mind. His broad smile, twinkling blue eyes, and
wonderful Irish sense of humor are engraved in my heart.
I learned recently -- at Luke’s wake, actually – that he was known for the vast number of
“cousins” he had. Apparently, he referred to all the women with whom he worked or associated
with in any way as his “cousins”!
I once told Luke that he was truly “blest among women,” because we would always seek
him out, elbowing each other to sit next to him. For that reason, I suggest that he be
remembered as Luke Driscoll, FMS/BAW. (
fxsheridan@hotmail.com
)
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From GUS NOLAN (‘48): The death of Bro. Luke Driscoll touched the hearts of many
Marists and the extended families of Marists. The family of a former
Marist, Clem Martin, was particularly moved by the occasion. Bro Luke
was always close to the Martin family. Let me give you a little
background.
Clem Martin came to Esopus in the fall of ‘46 from the Bronx where
he attended Mt. St. Michael and had Br. Luke as a teacher. Clem (as Br.
Luke Anselm) went through training, was graduated from Marian (Marist)
having majored in Spanish, and taught at St. Ann's Academy,
Christopher Columbus High School, and Brownsville (TX). I lost close
contact with him for a few years during which time he left the Brothers
and married. Next time I saw him – this time with his wife Socorro and
their four children Ali, Mani, Clem, and Sam -- was at Cold Spring for
one of the early GMC picnics. We were in close contact for the next few years, but Clem was
suffering from diabetes and passed away in July 1988 and was buried on July 26 of that year. A
group of us who had visited him in his ailing years formed a contingent of Marists, including
Richard LaPietra and Br. Stephen, to sing at Clem Martin's funeral Mass. It was a beautiful
farewell to a wonderful husband, father, a very talented teacher, a gifted and competitive
athlete, and a very great friend of so many.
The family grew and went to various colleges and moved away from Rockland County.
Young Clem Martin came from Chicago for Br. Luke Driscoll's wake and funeral. On that
occasion he learned of Marists All and has written to me. I asked for an update of the family.
The oldest, Ali, lives in North Carolina, has two children, and teaches fourth grade. Mani is a
guidance counselor in Holliston, MA, also with two children. Clem graduated from Holy Cross
and is now principal of St. Frances of Rome in Chicago, and Sam graduated from West Point,
did his military duty, and is now living in Quincy, MA with his wife, a lawyer. He and Clem
must be in excellent health as they ran in the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC this
past October.
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In Memoriam: Brother Vincent Damian FMS
From BR. JOHN KLEIN: Last evening Br. Vincent Damian passed away at Lawrence
Hospital in Bronxville, NY. Since this past July he had undergone several hospitalizations, a brief
stay at Clark Rehab, and most recently lived with the Champagnat Hall community. These have
been difficult days for him and now we believe and know that he is at peace with the God he
truly loved.
His years as Secretary in the Provincial Office, his leadership as Principal at both Roselle
Catholic and Marist High School, and his years of service on the Provincial Council speak
volumes of his dedication, talent, faith and his love for his Brothers. Whatever he did, he did
with sensitivity and class. We will always remember his role in preparing the 100
th
Anniversary
Celebration of the Marist Brothers in the United States in 1986.
Br. Vincent Damian was a good and decent man, a wonderful Marist Brother who
embodied the charism of Father Champagnat. In so many ways he helped shape the life of the
Marist Brothers in the U.S. during the past five decades, and we will always be in his debt.
In Memoriam: Rene M. St. George
Rene M.
St. George, a former Marist Brother, 82, a resident of the Pleasant View Nursing Home
in Concord, NH, died November 6, 2008, following a period of failing health. He held positions
as principal of Central Catholic High School in Lawrence, MA, principal of St. Joseph's High
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School in Lowell, MA, and assistant principal of Central Catholic High School in
Wheeling, WV. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to Catholic
Charities.
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In Memoriam: Thomas P. Mullen
From THE MIAMI HERALD, SEPTEMBER 6, 2008, BY
ELINOR J. BRECHE AND CAROL MARBIN MILLER: Thomas P. Mullen, the
one-time Marist Brother and social worker who founded the Passageway
Program -- a Miami halfway house for mentally ill offenders -- has died
unexpectedly at 64. Mullen was revered in South Florida mental-health
circles and beyond for his dedication to a widely reviled population:
defendants found not guilty by reason of insanity who had been released
into the community from psychiatric hospitals or treatment centers, most
with a paranoid schizophrenia diagnosis. To his endeavor, Mullen brought the social conscience
of a 1960s activist. Influenced by the pacifist Catholic Worker movement of the mid-20th
century, he nonetheless wore the cynicism and irony of a man accustomed to battling prejudice
and bureaucracy. A Marist College graduate and member of the religious order that founded it,
he earned a master's degree in social work at Barry University and taught at Columbus High
School. (
ebrecher@MiamiHerald.com
)
click here
for obituary on Thomas P Mullen
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* * * * *
(Thanks to those who have recently sent contributions to Marists All: Tom Murphy
(Binsky)’51, Dennis Hartnett ’63, Richard Foy ‘45, Joe Hores ‘49, and Paul Maloney ‘59.
Also, we have chosen to send paper copies of Marists All by postal mail to our friends
whose e-mail addresses have not been updated in our database. As a result the number
of our postal mailings has increased notably ... and the cost of mailing becomes somewhat
of a problem. Please send your updated e-mail address to Rob Schmid or to one of the
other of the Marists All team. Thank you. Editor)
Now a note from the web site editor, Rich Foy. I experimented this issue
with placing some photos to help you identify the persons, either writers or
subjects. They are not perfect, but they are a start. Perhaps you can send
us a better photo of yourself when you write something for publication. We
can scan it here and return the photo. Or else computer savvy writers may
send us a *.jpg. I would prefer a current photo. No sense sending one from
the '60s or '70s. Readers remember what you looked like in your teens and
twenties; they want to find out how well or ill you've aged.
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