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ISSUE # 80
June 2005
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click on email address to send email
click on correspondent or topic to go to that item
Correspondents
George Bagnell '58
Greg Ballerino '57
John Brady '57
Bill Deschene '53
Bro John Dunning '63
Don Edwards '57
Tom Fahey '58
Patrick Gallagher '53
Br Hank Hammer
Br John McDonnell '59
John O'Connell a '58
John O'Connell b ' 58
Br Kevin O'Neill '53
Ron Pasquariello '57
Tom Potenza ' 73
William Quinn ' 44
Robert Schmid
Br Michael Sheerin '74
Topics
Danielle Block (rip)
John Cherry '59 (rip)
Eugene Connolly '44 (rip)
Jo Beth Marie Gross (rip)
Rene Lozada '58 (rip)
Br. John Murray (rip)
Br James Redunski '68 (rip)
Marist Family Institute of Spirituality
July 2005
GMC Picnic at MSM
OB/bWAT
Invitation
Eleventh Annual Greater Marist Family Spirituality Weekend
Marcellin’s ‘Beatitudes’ and His Happy Gang
Marist College July 8 – 10, 2005
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Prayers and talks will focus on themes emphasized by Father
Champagnat. In the evenings we will celebrate our friendship and
camaraderie – in memory of the good times Marcellin and his
classmates had while in the seminary. Speakers for the weekend
include: Br. Brice Byczynski, Dr. Martin Lang, Br. Vito Arresto, and Br.
Joseph Belanger. Meals, insurance and fees: $120 per person; housing:
single occupancy, two nights with linens: $75 per person; double
occupancy, two nights with linens: $135 per couple. To reserve a place,
send a $25 deposit to Maurice Bibeau (4 Van Wert Place, Hyde Park, NY
12538; 845-229-0879). Make the check payable to the Marist Brothers.
Registration begins on Friday, July 8th at 4:00 pm in the Rotunda,
Student Center at Marist College. Dinner is at 6:00. The weekend ends
Sunday, July 10th at noon. Participants are encouraged to attend the
celebration for Br. Joseph Belanger’s 80th birthday until 3:30 pm.
Please come and renew the Marist Spirit with us.
* * * * *
The GMC Picnic at Mount St. Michael will be held on Saturday,
September 10th. Mark your calendars. As is our custom, bring your own
beverage and a potluck dish for a shared meal. People generally arrive
around noon and stay until about five pm. As in other years, the picnic
will be held rain or shine. Continue the tradition!
From WILLIAM QUINN ’44 (David Marcellin): It was with heavy heart
that I read of the passing of Br. Patrick Eugene and Br. Simeon Gerald.
Br. Patrick and I were in the Novitiate in 1943-44. He was a novice and
I, a postulant. Whenever we met all the years after I left, he always
took time to talk and inquire about my well-being. As for myself, I am
doing well. I was in Rome in 1999 for Father Champagnat’s big day and
had a wonderful time. In 2001 I spent eighteen days in Russia and went
back again in 2003. What a beautiful country! On March 21st I retired
after twenty-four years of government service. To all the monks of the
United States Province: “Many years.” (143-15 26th Avenue, Apt 6C;
Flushing, NY 11354-1759; 718-353-5304)
From BILL DESCHENE ’53: Just felt a hankering to get in touch with
Marists All: cabin fever, I guess. We occasionally return to what is
referred to as the “real world” participating in peace demonstrations
and vigils with the Eastern Maine Peace and Justice Committee in
Bangor. They are a fine group of the most unlikely people you would
expect to be standing against the tide. You get the feeling that they
know that someday the tide will be reversed and there will be peace
and justice in the world. We like their spirit. I have enclosed a few fond
recollections of some of the old Brothers. I always liked the old people.
Somehow, I feel related to them. Maybe that’s why I’m so anti-modern.
I remember vaguely a course given on the lives of the early Brothers as
part of the training we received in our novitiate years. The modeling
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that was supposed to be given by these biographies was concretely
enhanced by the living models of the older Brothers who made up the
bulk of the novitiate staff. Sometimes, without any forethought, their
words and example help me get grounded when upset or stay grounded
when at peace.
Recently, when I spilled half the juice needed to make five gallons of
banana wine, I let out a scream that would have made any Penobscot
or Passamaquoddy take notice. The mess that had to be cleaned up,
plus the several bottles of really fine wine that would not be made –
aargh! As Margie helped calm me down, Br. Paul Acyndinus came to
mind. That little Brother, who looked like the original Sleepy of the
Seven Dwarfs, stood there in my mind, with his arms folded and his
hands tucked into his sleeves, his droopy eyes resigned to his
“imperfections” – a little “poof” came to his lips: “If you don’t do
anything, you won’t do anything wrong.”
Br. Paul had told us to fill as many pots of water that we would need for
supper as he was going to fix the pumps that brought us delicious well
water during that Saturday’s work period. No problem. Trouble was, he
forgot to turn on the pump when he finished his work. Scullery was
delayed and the regularity of the schedule was disrupted. Horrors!
Hence, Br. Paul was duly reprimanded, and we received those words of
wisdom. (184 Bryant Ridge Rd, Grand Falls Plantation, ME 04417)
back to index ===>>
In Memoriam
Rene Lozada ’58: died 27 December 2004
From the EDITOR: Rene came to the Novitiate in Tyngsboro along with
Bernardo Ortuoste and Felipe Cruz from the Philippines. Despite the fact
that cultural adaptation was difficult for him, his classmates remember
him for his hearty laugh and a heart that went along with it.
Eugene Connolly (Kieran Matthew ’44): died 3 March 2005
From BR. KEVIN O’NEILL ’53: My niece had Dr. Connolly at Northern
Essex Community College in Haverhill (MA). She sent me this note: “Hi,
Uncle. I just read in the paper that Dr. Eugene Connolly died on March
3rd. I remember writing you about him and that you knew him. I had
him for only one semester and have to say he was the best instructor of
all that I’ve had. He had such a wonderful way of teaching. Sue.”
(mhsbko@juno.com
)
(
Click here
to view obituary page for Gene Connolly.)
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Br. James Redunski ’68: died 11 March 2005
From TOM POTENZA ’73: Jim had spent his entire religious life in the
diocese of Newark, working in a number of the Catholic high schools as
a teacher, counselor, and administrator, as well as in the superintendent
of education’s office. He was a Bayonne boy who never wandered far
from home and suffered from various ailments in recent years. Jim had
a witty personality and wry humor that was not lost on his Brothers –
especially during the years of great change in religious life and Marist
life.
(Tompo47@aol.com
)
Br. John Cherry ’59: died 28 March 2005
From BR. JOHN MC DONNELL ‘59: Bigger than life – one of a
kind – a gentle giant. John Cherry marched to the beat of a
different drummer. Surprised smiles would always fill a room as
John entered, shouting your name, enveloping you in a hearty,
heartfelt bear hug. John Cherry made me laugh. Not polite giggles
but rib-tickling, side-splitting, breath-taking belly laughs that got
both of us through our comps at the University of Notre Dame.
How I loved you, John Cherry! (johnmcdonnell58@hotmail.com)
From BR. JOHN DUNNING ‘63: John blazed a trail with the Lay
Volunteer Program, expanding Marist community and our
understanding of collaboration. His optimism was often
indomitable. If he was dismissed as naïve or as a Pollyanna, he
wasn’t discouraged. He knew his heart early on in life and followed
it steadfastly. As a pastoral minister, his own back problems
helped further sensitize his understanding of suffering and made
him an even more compassionate person. He accompanied our
friend, Br. Ronald Marcellin, at the end of his long journey with
cancer. John lightened the load for countless others in his years as
a guidance counselor and pastoral care minister. Through it all, his
love of life, people, laughter and music was contagious. When
John sang “The Impossible Dream,” he shook the room. The world
is a better place because of you, John. You’ve reached your star;
may you rest in peace with the Lord.
From BR. MICHAEL SHEERIN ‘74: John was always a pleasure to
be with, and I’m grateful I was able to grow through these past
thirty-five years with a mentor and friend like him. John was
always there to listen to my impossible dreams. I miss him. May
he rest in peace. (sheerinm@stjohns.edu)
(The above three comments were excerpted from the April-May
newsletter of the United States province of the Marist Brothers.
Editor)
From JOHN O’CONNELL ’58: In our less mature days in
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Tyngsboro we referred to John as “Modesty-of-the-eyes Cherry.”
However, John did have a significant influence on us, and he was
destined to be a helpful and affirming influence on the many
whose lives he touched.
From TOM FAHEY ’58: I remember Br. John Cherry from 1956; a
tall string bean, always smiling and so gentle. May he rest in
peace. I look forward to his welcome one day, not too far down
the road, along with Vinnie Hall, Bill Reffelt, and so many
wonderful humans…saints we have known! (faheytj@aol.com)
Special Remembrance: Some of us found out about the effect of
a tragedy on the Marist community in McMechen, West Virginia,
through an article appearing in the New York Times (written by
Alan Feuer) on Wednesday, May 25, 2005. We offer our prayers
and deepest sympathy for the families and friends.
There were two empty chairs among the rows of seniors graduating from Bishop
Donahue High School on Tuesday night. Instead of being occupied by two young
women in polyester robes, they were draped with white cloth.
The graduates who should have sat there, Danielle Block and Jo Beth Marie
Gross, both 18, died on Saturday in Brooklyn when their single-engine
sightseeing plane dropped from the sky above Coney Island and crashed on the
beach….
“This is no doubt a night of mixed feeling for you, for all of us,” Brother Rene Roy,
the principal, told the graduating class. “We are attempting to make the sun
break through the clouds of sorrow. We will all rise again as a family stronger
than ever in the values that really matter.”
Bishop Donahue had only 80 students, and before graduation many gathered in
the rain, drawn to the makeshift shrine that had grown in the last few days. There
were teddy bears and flowers, candles and some hand-written cards. There were
a basketball and a baseball bat attesting to the young women’s athletic prowess.
There were a pen and a dog-eared notebook alluding to their love for classes at
the school.
“The school itself is paying for the funeral arrangements,” Brother (Dan)
O’Riordan said… Brother O’Riordan took the podium at one point to announce that
Ms. Gross had just won the Bob Shaw Memorial Service Award and Ms. Block, the
Father Raymond Jablinske Memorial Scholarship.
“It’s their graduation,” he had said that morning. “It’s more important to celebrate
their lives than their deaths.”
back to index ===>>
From PATRICK GALLAGHER ‘53: To the many who never knew
Bill Sears (Msgr. Sears and formerly Br. William Mary ’52) they
missed a unique experience, for his rather gruff exterior hid a
great heart. While I spent four years combined in the juniorate,
novitiate and college following him, after being out of touch for
close to thirty-five years, he walked back into my life in typical Bill
Sears fashion. I had written to Marists All about having the “B and
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B” in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, and it happened that I
drove up to the old general store that now served as a post office.
(The gas pumps outside, long unused, registered 28 cents per
gallon.) I started to enter the store, when a bearded guy standing
there, in sharp tones said: “Where in the hell is the damn Wild
Geese Inn?” Startled, I turned toward him and noticed something
familiar in the eyes. He then slapped me on the back and said:
“Bill Sears, remember?”
Well, he came back to the place, and along with another couple,
friends from Texas, decided to stay the night. Just before dinner,
he asked whether he could say Mass at the dining room table. He
asked Les’s wife if she were Catholic, and she said no. “Do you
love God? Do you love Jesus? Do you love your neighbor?” Positive
answers were enough for Bill to give her First Holy Communion.
Her husband, raised a Catholic, had some problems and to Bill,
they were minor. Just the five of us participated in this wonderful
Mass, and then dinner. Afterwards Mary, my wife, and Bill spoke to
Les for close to two hours, sparking Les to say later that it was
one of the most moving and intimate times in his life.
When they left, Bill talked more about himself: his ordination in
1962 and his work in the Brooklyn diocese. Vietnam was the issue
at the time; we were sending more and more troops over there,
and Bill wanted to join as a chaplain. The diocese balked at this,
so Bill’s answer was that if they didn’t let him join as a Navy
chaplain, he was going to enlist as a “grunt.” The diocese relented
and Bill spent two tours in Nam. His time there came to a halt one
afternoon when a number of Marines were critically wounded in
the jungle. When a call went out for a minister, a Presbyterian
chaplain started getting ready. Since the other chaplain was
married and had a family, Bill offered to go in his place. They
reached the Marines and started transporting them back on an
Armored Personnel Carrier. A mine destroyed the vehicle, killed
the Marines and seriously wounded Bill. One of the medics
reaching the scene examined Bill and said to his companion: “Get
a body bag for this one!” Another medic intervened and saved
Bill’s life.
We stopped a couple of times in Englewood (FL) where Bill spent
the last ten or so years of his life, on a street named for him:
“Padre Lane.” On one occasion, Bill, knowing that because Mary’s
first husband was still alive when we were married in 1980 in a
civil ceremony, decided to give us a “church wedding.” So, at his
kitchen table, Bill went through the Catholic marriage ceremony
for us, and we went out to a local restaurant for our reception
where everyone seemed to greet him with, “Hi, Padre!”
Mary and I regarded him as a unique person who cared so much
for others, who was impatient with anything or anyone that stood
in the way of helping others. He was a good, caring priest, a warm
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and committed person, and a remarkably true Marist in his spirit
through all the experiences of Nam, the military, high school
teaching in Florida, parish work and the loving attitude he had
toward all in his community. (P.O. Box 310, Springtown, PA
18081; 610-346-7463;
marycaroline@verizon.net
)
back to index ===>>
From ROBERT SCHMID: It is with great sadness that we note
the passing of Br. John Murray. In September of 1967, five scared
young men began a lifetime of commitment at 4821 South Ellis
Street in Chicago. Four graduates of the charter class of Marist
High School – Brice Byczynski, Mark Hirschman, John Murray, and
Robert Schmid – were joined by recent Marist College graduate,
John Scileppi, for an adventure in inner-city religious formation.
The house on Ellis Street was owned by the Archdiocese of
Chicago and had once been the residence of Chicago mayor
Edward Kelly. The house was located in the Hyde Park/Kenwood
area of Chicago, the home of the University of Chicago. The Black
Muslim headquarters was two blocks away on Woodlawn Avenue.
Our local parish of St. Ambrose was home to Father Andrew
Greeley. Our neighborhood was one of the few integrated in
Chicago in the mid 1960’s. We had no idea the effect our religious
formation and this haven for free thinkers, communists, and other
undesirables would have on our personal development.
To guide us on this adventure were Br. Patrick (Martin) Harte,
Br. Lawrence Keogh, and Australian Br. Ronald Fogarty. Later in
the year Matthew Snowden joined us. We made note of the fact
that Martin Harte, Matthew Snowden, and Pius Xavier (first
principal at Marist High School) were all members of the same
group. We “affectionately” referred to them as Matty, Patty and Pi.
John Murray was the theatrical member of the group. Brice
was the jock. Scileppi was our intellectual and pharmacist. Mark
saw the world through the lens of his camera, and my role was to
keep Pat Harte busy at the Scrabble board. He slaughtered me
almost every time that we played.
During our Christmas break in 1967 we drove east to visit our
confreres in Tyngsboro. We stopped at Mount St. Michael en route
and had a free day to tour Manhattan. Murray was dying to see a
Broadway play, but some of the more obstinate members of the
group, including me, did all we could to thwart his wishes. Now,
thirty-eight years later, we wonder why we didn’t each go our own
way.
The spring of 1968 saw the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther
King and a period of heightened tension in our integrated
neighborhood and the surrounding ghetto through which we
needed to travel to commute to school. That summer we worked
in the recreation program at St., Ambrose. Murray put on a mini
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Hello Dolly production while Brice, Mark, and I played ball with the
kids on 47th Street.
These things all come to mind now that Murray has left us.
Mark, John Scileppi, and I had left religious life. But those years
did leave a lasting mark on us. Murray’s passing reminded us all
that we are still brothers. John Scileppi is on the faculty at Marist
College and very active in the Marist community. Mark is engaged
in the counseling profession and on the faculty at a nursing school
in Milwaukee. I “help” people as an auditor for the IRS but
continue to do my spiritual reading by teaching CCD classes. With
these early formation stories in mind, we remember Murray and
offer thanks for his presence in our lives.
(RJDB@comcast.net
)
back to index ===>>
(From the EDITOR: You may have been following John
O’Connell’s efforts to bring together those who were in the
juniorate and the novitiate back in the late ‘50’s. He initiated the
new terminology of “big B” and “little b” B/brothers and set up a
specific e-mail address for the large volume of correspondence:
OBbWAT@aol.com. The acronym stands for Oh, B/brother, Where
Art Thou? The following communiqués concern some recent
meetings on the West Coast as well as at Esopus. After the
California trip, Oke sent a short message: “Stupendous California
“gatherings”: in memoriam, Vinnie Hall and Bill Reffelt.”)
From RON PASQUARIELLO ’57: If observed by the Cotati (CA)
police, the following incident would have been reported as follows:
Thursday, March 10, 2005, 6 pm, a tan pick-up truck with Arizona
license plates pulled up in front of the residence of Ronald
Pasquariello. Four senior males jumped out of the truck, wrapped
their arms around Mr. Pasquariello, and forced him into his house.
Later that evening, neighbors reported a loud bang emanating
from said residence, along with sounds of shattering glass.
Pasquariello was held captive for two days. No ransom demand
was made.
“A good time was had by all,” is the way it would have been
reported in The Angelus, erstwhile juniorate newsletter. The “all”
in this case were: Oke O’Connell, George Conboy, Bernie Ortuoste,
Richie Shaw, and I. And the good time was a day and a half of
eating, touring, and reminiscing at Pasquariello’s house in Cotati
(CA) just south of Santa Rosa in Sonoma County.
They had driven seven hours north along California’s
superhighways. Pasquariello spent the day blowing up air
mattresses, baking bread, brewing tomato sauce, defrosting
meatballs, assembling dessert. Immediately on their arrival, we
began to recollect. Charles Schultz (native of Sonoma County)
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once said: “Just remember, once you are over the hill, you begin
to pick up speed.” We proofed that statement. Who knew
reminiscing could be such a wonderful experience? It expands
one’s being and brings out dimensions of one’s self that have been
submerged for years by one’s own personal selective amnesia.
It was forty-six years or more since Pasquariello had seen these
folks. And they were a sight to behold. But his dog Chipper loved
them anyway. One of the first things Richie Shaw (who grew up
within a few blocks of Pasquariello in the Bronx) offered is that he
had his first bagel at Ron’s house on a visit from the juniorate and
has been eating them ever since. Ron cried a little, finally realizing
that he had made a difference in someone’s life.
We chit-chatted into the wee hours of the morning, piggy-backing
on each other’s memories, riding herd on the long-winded, batting
stories around, eventually going off to count sheep after we got
dog-tired. Most of the stories were humorous and reminded us
how much fun our lives were together. Some memories were
momentous. All made an impact. One of the many observations:
the high degree of marital longevity among, not only those
present, but also all former Marists in general. Someone ought to
take a survey. Another: the aptness of Champagnat’s perspective
for guiding one’s life: humility, simplicity, modesty – very
Buddhist!
And we had, literally, a shattering experience. At the beginning of
the first evening, Ron had a fairly large coffee table in his living
room, with twelve pieces of ceramic on it. He had dusted off a
bottle of champagne to celebrate the reunion. Busy listening and
jabbering, he let the bottle of bubbly slip from his hand. He
immediately found out that the tabletop was made of safety glass.
It shattered into a thousand small pieces (which Ron is still busily
gluing back together). Ron now has a whole batch of chipped
ceramics to dispose of as Christmas presents!
On Friday Richie woke everyone with a Laudetur, Jesus Christus.
Oke intoned the Salve Regina. George intoned the solemn Salve.
After breakfast we toured wine country and took in the captivating
Sonoma Coast. Upon returning we continued to eat and drink and
walk the talk. The four mighty Marist marauders took off on
Saturday morning to repeat the road show at Kevin Finn’s, south
of San Diego.
Just think, if it weren’t for reunions like these, we would go
through life thinking we were perfect young gentlemen; that we
had not made a difference. We would go through life forgetting
how much we owe to one French priest and his followers. (8550
Larch Avenue, Cotati, CA 94931-4455;
1ron1@sbcglobal.net
)
back to index ===>>
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From GREG BALLERINO ’57: Time Travel! Round trip! March 13,
2005. All in one day: what an experience! Newport Beach, CA to
Esopus, to Tyngsboro, to Poughkeepsie: a non-stop adventure
with delayed action episodes revisited and re-lived. Never did I
think I would or could find my way back there. But today I did!
“Oke” O’Connell, George Conboy, Bernie Ortuoste, Richie Shaw
and Kevin Finn created a safe place so that I could return to visit
Richard Ballerino (Dickie Bal, as some called me). It was safe
enough to look at and experience feelings still rooted in the
teenage years at Marist Prep.
I could not go back forty plus years and judge my possible
relationships at this gathering through the eyes of an adolescent.
So I let the memory be just that: a memory. Today I could relate
to these men as I am, accepting them as they are. No checklist,
no remarks, no faults, and no hidden agenda. What a relief: each
of us seeing the other as if for the first time. Each of us
authentic.... We no longer had to project the “image” of a Brother.
Rather, we are once again brothers on a cellular level that grew
from the Marist Prep experience.
Long ago, it seems in reflection, it was so important to adopt the
“image” of a Marist Brother. That meant a deliberate, careful
deconstruction of each one’s personality to become the larger-
than-life historical “image” of Marist Brother. For those of us
experiencing adolescent crisis of self-esteem and weak self-image,
adopting a new Marist image – one valued for its spiritual
personality and not its human personality – offered hope, escape,
and a future with purpose.
But back to the journey of that day: The truck had just pulled into
the garage at Kevin’s waterfront home. When I stopped in front of
the garage George and Richie turned, smiled and came to the car
window to greet me. Wow! Who were these men? I remember
them as mere teenagers. The sound of each voice connected me
with the teenage image I remembered. Now I saw and heard that
voice come from a man in his sixties. Time travel – forty plus
years – in an instant!
It didn’t take long to realize that we all connected on such a deep
level. Not even forty years absence could have broken that link.
What was happening to me, to us? Oke had called me out of the
blue, sent me an e-mail to announce his West Coast trip with
George and the planned meeting with Richie, Bernie, and Kevin. I
was invited to join them. Why did they want to see me? During
those early years I felt unknown, unrecognized and tried so hard
to fit in. Why reach out now? All my mind-chatter judgments
didn’t matter to these men. We were all there together on Kevin’s
boat and they wanted to hear what I had to say. Not only did I
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want to speak, but I also wanted to hear their voices and their
stories. And so it happened. I relived highlights of the past forty
years. And they did too. Pauses, questions, laughter, more stories,
anecdotes, more laughter, sober truth of loss, failures and
successes: the more we talked, the more I felt loved, accepted,
and respected “as is.”
Long ago, each of us silently slipped away to an unknown
adventure. Usual social courtesies like, “Good-bye, good luck…I’ll
miss you…take care…keep in touch if you need anything” didn’t
happen. It was never part of the Marist training. As each of us
spoke, I felt more proud to know these men today, more
concerned about them, more willing to be a friend and adopted
brother. What a gift I received!
For dinner we met at Kevin and his wife Madeline’s home. They
treated us royally in the most elegant home I have ever visited.
Kevin and Madeline opened their hearts to us and gave us a safe
place to be, to talk, to eat, to laugh, to ask questions, and to be
heard.
At one point in the evening, Madeline asked what prompted us to
join the Brothers and not become priests? As for me, I never
wanted to become a priest. From my initial experience at St. Ann’s
Academy, it was the model of a young man, energetic, intelligent,
friendly, caring, teaching, belonging, living life with a purpose and
career – that’s what I wanted to become. In time, I learned that
there was more to the model of Marist Brother. The other parts of
discipline, denial, religious life, giving up ownership of anything
material, sublimating the feelings of anything sexual, accepting
and blindly following authority, would now shape my most
vulnerable adolescent formative years. And I survived it!
Late in the evening I said goodbye. Not wanting to leave, not
knowing if and when I would see any of them again, I promised to
renew contact. I experienced both closure and a beginning. On the
two hour drive home my mind couldn’t leave the safe place of
love, friendship, caring, acceptance, and mutual respect that I
lived the past ten hours with Oke, George, Bernie, Richie, Kevin,
and Madeline. I traveled back in time to Esopus, to Tyngsboro, to
Poughkeepsie, and found the adolescent Richie Ballerino. Now I
can embrace and love that young adolescent, forgive the adult
Greg that made so many assumptions and had judged him
critically. In these final years, I will live with the fullness of who I
was, who I am, and who I will become. Thank you, my brothers.
(gregoryr38@earthlink.net
)
back to index ===>>
From JOHN O’CONNELL‘58: The Third Annual “Oh,
B/brother,Where Art Thou” gathering was held in Esopus, April
8/9/10 dedicated to the memory of Br. John Cherry ’59, RIP, who
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was to be among us that weekend, but not “just” in spirit, and of
b. Vinny Hall ’58 RIP (whose “anonymous passing stimulated our
search for those once pre-screened for us to join with in
friendship, now a friendship of over four decades, and of b. Bill
Reffelt ’58, RIP (whose last months among us prompted so many
of us to re-connect and acknowledge this special bond of
friendship as the gift it most certainly was, and still is. The
“OB/bWAT” grouping is primarily composed of those of us who
actually lived together, especially during our formative years in
“training,” but also “out” in community, excluding no one who
shares our interest in re-connecting these many years later, a
most amazing transcendence of 40+ years. Anyone interested in
obtaining an updated “directory” of the high school grades of ’56,
’57, ’58, and ’59, who either became, or almost became Marists,
e-mail
OBbWAT@aol.com
.
Gathering together in April were: b. George Bagnell ’58 (NY); b.
John Brady ’57 (NJ); b. Jerry Byrne ’59 (NJ), B. Nick Caffrey ’57
(NY); b. George Conboy ’58 (AZ); B. Joe DiBenedetto ’59
(Esopus); b. Don Edwards ’57 (CT); b. George Farrell ’59 (NY); b.
Jim Friel ’54 (NY); b. Jim Gargan ’59 (NY); B. John Herrmann ’59
(NY); b. Pete Kuveke ’58 (FL); b. John McGalagly ’59 (NY); b. Paul
Maloney ’59 (MD); b. Pat Murphy ’58 (MD); b. Jim Murray ’55
(NY); B. John Nash ’59 (Poughkeepsie); B. Don Nugent ’59
(Esopus); b. John O’Connell ’58 (ME); b. Bernie Ortuoste ’58 (CA);
b. Joe Picciano ’59 (NY); b. Vin Poisella ’58 (NJ); b. Bob St. Amand
’58 (NJ); b. Bill Shannon ’58 (NJ); B. Jim Stevens ’59
(Poughkeepsie); b. Russ Therriault ’58 (FL); and b. John Wilcox
’57 (CT); brothers all! (15 High Street, Boothbay Harbor, ME
04538)
From JOHN BRADY ’57: A word about the April 9th OB/bWAT
gathering in Esopus: The whole atmosphere was one of respect
and appreciation of each other. Everyone was caring, supportive,
and genuinely comfortable with each other. That said so much
about us as individuals then and now, and about our common
experience and training as Marists over forty years ago. (3
Brookside Avenue, Hazlet, NJ 07730-2224; 732-739-3911;
jejpbrady@aol.com)
From GEORGE BAGNELL ’58: When first meeting some of my
B/brothers, only a few were recognizable to me. After all, it has
been forty years of receding hairlines and expanding waistlines.
But as soon as I heard the voices, saw the smiles and the look in
their eyes, old acquaintances were instantly renewed. The
weekend was filled with the sharing of one’s life history over our
separated years – stories of school assignments, jobs we’ve had,
families we raised. There were many reminiscences of our shared
times in the past, mixed with a lot of laughter and some tears. We
all shared a sense of revival, a renewed bond of togetherness,
friendship, and ONE BROTHERHOOD. I truly mean it when I say
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that it is really great to be back with you guys once again.
(gbagnell@optonline.net)
From DON EDWARDS ’57: The OB/bWAT “gathering” in Esopus
over the April 9th weekend was very special, and our lives are
richer for it. The mutual friendship of the little b’s and big B’s is a
gift of the Lord Himself. I still get teary-eyed thinking of some of
the life stories. We never know what people carry in their hearts
and souls. The command of the Lord that we don’t judge one
another becomes more meaningful each day. My life is richer now
because I walked away from our gathering feeling affirmed,
realizing how hard we all are on ourselves: and yet we live deeply
spiritual lives. This is the Spirit that binds “Marists All,” even when
some don’t know it yet. I can’t continue right now because of the
depth to which I have been moved by the weekend’s celebration
of lives and friendships. (Donald.j.Edwards@snet.net)
From BR. HANK HAMMER ‘75: I was reading the February
Marists All recently (I’m a bit behind!) and read about David
Kammer’s Christmas message and the e-mail he received from
“Doris” to “Carmel.” “Doris” is Doris Reischach, the secretary in
the Province Office, and Carmel is her friend. Doris is a wonderful
lady to work with. She was very impressed with the Christmas
message. (hankhammer@hotmail.com)
(Continue to remember in your thoughts and prayers: Br. Denis
Hever. Barney Sheridan, Don Schmidt, and all those who are
called to share in the Passion. And thanks to all those who made
written contributions to this issue of Marists All and to those who
sent a check to cover expenses: Bill Deschene and Pat Keilty. The
next issue should appear in early September. Please write! Editor)
return to ===>>
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ISSUE # 80
June 2005
www.ecommerce.marist.edu/foy/maristsall/
24 Brooklyn Mt Rd, Hopatcong NJ 07843; 973-398-5477;
vtpoisella@yahoo.com
717 Washington Ave, Chappaqua NY 10514; 914-238-8001;
foy@telutopia.net
65 Muirfield Court, Poughkeepsie NY 12603; 845-454-6116;
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499 East Pond Rd., Smithfield ME 04978; 20-362-2019
kammer@tds.net
click on email address to send email
click on correspondent or topic to go to that item
Correspondents
George Bagnell '58
Greg Ballerino '57
John Brady '57
Bill Deschene '53
Bro John Dunning '63
Don Edwards '57
Tom Fahey '58
Patrick Gallagher '53
Br Hank Hammer
Br John McDonnell '59
John O'Connell a '58
John O'Connell b ' 58
Br Kevin O'Neill '53
Ron Pasquariello '57
Tom Potenza ' 73
William Quinn ' 44
Robert Schmid
Br Michael Sheerin '74
Topics
Danielle Block (rip)
John Cherry '59 (rip)
Eugene Connolly '44 (rip)
Jo Beth Marie Gross (rip)
Rene Lozada '58 (rip)
Br. John Murray (rip)
Br James Redunski '68 (rip)
Marist Family Institute of Spirituality
July 2005
GMC Picnic at MSM
OB/bWAT
Invitation
Eleventh Annual Greater Marist Family Spirituality Weekend
Marcellin’s ‘Beatitudes’ and His Happy Gang
Marist College July 8 – 10, 2005
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Prayers and talks will focus on themes emphasized by Father
Champagnat. In the evenings we will celebrate our friendship and
camaraderie – in memory of the good times Marcellin and his
classmates had while in the seminary. Speakers for the weekend
include: Br. Brice Byczynski, Dr. Martin Lang, Br. Vito Arresto, and Br.
Joseph Belanger. Meals, insurance and fees: $120 per person; housing:
single occupancy, two nights with linens: $75 per person; double
occupancy, two nights with linens: $135 per couple. To reserve a place,
send a $25 deposit to Maurice Bibeau (4 Van Wert Place, Hyde Park, NY
12538; 845-229-0879). Make the check payable to the Marist Brothers.
Registration begins on Friday, July 8th at 4:00 pm in the Rotunda,
Student Center at Marist College. Dinner is at 6:00. The weekend ends
Sunday, July 10th at noon. Participants are encouraged to attend the
celebration for Br. Joseph Belanger’s 80th birthday until 3:30 pm.
Please come and renew the Marist Spirit with us.
* * * * *
The GMC Picnic at Mount St. Michael will be held on Saturday,
September 10th. Mark your calendars. As is our custom, bring your own
beverage and a potluck dish for a shared meal. People generally arrive
around noon and stay until about five pm. As in other years, the picnic
will be held rain or shine. Continue the tradition!
From WILLIAM QUINN ’44 (David Marcellin): It was with heavy heart
that I read of the passing of Br. Patrick Eugene and Br. Simeon Gerald.
Br. Patrick and I were in the Novitiate in 1943-44. He was a novice and
I, a postulant. Whenever we met all the years after I left, he always
took time to talk and inquire about my well-being. As for myself, I am
doing well. I was in Rome in 1999 for Father Champagnat’s big day and
had a wonderful time. In 2001 I spent eighteen days in Russia and went
back again in 2003. What a beautiful country! On March 21st I retired
after twenty-four years of government service. To all the monks of the
United States Province: “Many years.” (143-15 26th Avenue, Apt 6C;
Flushing, NY 11354-1759; 718-353-5304)
From BILL DESCHENE ’53: Just felt a hankering to get in touch with
Marists All: cabin fever, I guess. We occasionally return to what is
referred to as the “real world” participating in peace demonstrations
and vigils with the Eastern Maine Peace and Justice Committee in
Bangor. They are a fine group of the most unlikely people you would
expect to be standing against the tide. You get the feeling that they
know that someday the tide will be reversed and there will be peace
and justice in the world. We like their spirit. I have enclosed a few fond
recollections of some of the old Brothers. I always liked the old people.
Somehow, I feel related to them. Maybe that’s why I’m so anti-modern.
I remember vaguely a course given on the lives of the early Brothers as
part of the training we received in our novitiate years. The modeling
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that was supposed to be given by these biographies was concretely
enhanced by the living models of the older Brothers who made up the
bulk of the novitiate staff. Sometimes, without any forethought, their
words and example help me get grounded when upset or stay grounded
when at peace.
Recently, when I spilled half the juice needed to make five gallons of
banana wine, I let out a scream that would have made any Penobscot
or Passamaquoddy take notice. The mess that had to be cleaned up,
plus the several bottles of really fine wine that would not be made –
aargh! As Margie helped calm me down, Br. Paul Acyndinus came to
mind. That little Brother, who looked like the original Sleepy of the
Seven Dwarfs, stood there in my mind, with his arms folded and his
hands tucked into his sleeves, his droopy eyes resigned to his
“imperfections” – a little “poof” came to his lips: “If you don’t do
anything, you won’t do anything wrong.”
Br. Paul had told us to fill as many pots of water that we would need for
supper as he was going to fix the pumps that brought us delicious well
water during that Saturday’s work period. No problem. Trouble was, he
forgot to turn on the pump when he finished his work. Scullery was
delayed and the regularity of the schedule was disrupted. Horrors!
Hence, Br. Paul was duly reprimanded, and we received those words of
wisdom. (184 Bryant Ridge Rd, Grand Falls Plantation, ME 04417)
back to index ===>>
In Memoriam
Rene Lozada ’58: died 27 December 2004
From the EDITOR: Rene came to the Novitiate in Tyngsboro along with
Bernardo Ortuoste and Felipe Cruz from the Philippines. Despite the fact
that cultural adaptation was difficult for him, his classmates remember
him for his hearty laugh and a heart that went along with it.
Eugene Connolly (Kieran Matthew ’44): died 3 March 2005
From BR. KEVIN O’NEILL ’53: My niece had Dr. Connolly at Northern
Essex Community College in Haverhill (MA). She sent me this note: “Hi,
Uncle. I just read in the paper that Dr. Eugene Connolly died on March
3rd. I remember writing you about him and that you knew him. I had
him for only one semester and have to say he was the best instructor of
all that I’ve had. He had such a wonderful way of teaching. Sue.”
(mhsbko@juno.com
)
(
Click here
to view obituary page for Gene Connolly.)
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Br. James Redunski ’68: died 11 March 2005
From TOM POTENZA ’73: Jim had spent his entire religious life in the
diocese of Newark, working in a number of the Catholic high schools as
a teacher, counselor, and administrator, as well as in the superintendent
of education’s office. He was a Bayonne boy who never wandered far
from home and suffered from various ailments in recent years. Jim had
a witty personality and wry humor that was not lost on his Brothers –
especially during the years of great change in religious life and Marist
life.
(Tompo47@aol.com
)
Br. John Cherry ’59: died 28 March 2005
From BR. JOHN MC DONNELL ‘59: Bigger than life – one of a
kind – a gentle giant. John Cherry marched to the beat of a
different drummer. Surprised smiles would always fill a room as
John entered, shouting your name, enveloping you in a hearty,
heartfelt bear hug. John Cherry made me laugh. Not polite giggles
but rib-tickling, side-splitting, breath-taking belly laughs that got
both of us through our comps at the University of Notre Dame.
How I loved you, John Cherry! (johnmcdonnell58@hotmail.com)
From BR. JOHN DUNNING ‘63: John blazed a trail with the Lay
Volunteer Program, expanding Marist community and our
understanding of collaboration. His optimism was often
indomitable. If he was dismissed as naïve or as a Pollyanna, he
wasn’t discouraged. He knew his heart early on in life and followed
it steadfastly. As a pastoral minister, his own back problems
helped further sensitize his understanding of suffering and made
him an even more compassionate person. He accompanied our
friend, Br. Ronald Marcellin, at the end of his long journey with
cancer. John lightened the load for countless others in his years as
a guidance counselor and pastoral care minister. Through it all, his
love of life, people, laughter and music was contagious. When
John sang “The Impossible Dream,” he shook the room. The world
is a better place because of you, John. You’ve reached your star;
may you rest in peace with the Lord.
From BR. MICHAEL SHEERIN ‘74: John was always a pleasure to
be with, and I’m grateful I was able to grow through these past
thirty-five years with a mentor and friend like him. John was
always there to listen to my impossible dreams. I miss him. May
he rest in peace. (sheerinm@stjohns.edu)
(The above three comments were excerpted from the April-May
newsletter of the United States province of the Marist Brothers.
Editor)
From JOHN O’CONNELL ’58: In our less mature days in
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Tyngsboro we referred to John as “Modesty-of-the-eyes Cherry.”
However, John did have a significant influence on us, and he was
destined to be a helpful and affirming influence on the many
whose lives he touched.
From TOM FAHEY ’58: I remember Br. John Cherry from 1956; a
tall string bean, always smiling and so gentle. May he rest in
peace. I look forward to his welcome one day, not too far down
the road, along with Vinnie Hall, Bill Reffelt, and so many
wonderful humans…saints we have known! (faheytj@aol.com)
Special Remembrance: Some of us found out about the effect of
a tragedy on the Marist community in McMechen, West Virginia,
through an article appearing in the New York Times (written by
Alan Feuer) on Wednesday, May 25, 2005. We offer our prayers
and deepest sympathy for the families and friends.
There were two empty chairs among the rows of seniors graduating from Bishop
Donahue High School on Tuesday night. Instead of being occupied by two young
women in polyester robes, they were draped with white cloth.
The graduates who should have sat there, Danielle Block and Jo Beth Marie
Gross, both 18, died on Saturday in Brooklyn when their single-engine
sightseeing plane dropped from the sky above Coney Island and crashed on the
beach….
“This is no doubt a night of mixed feeling for you, for all of us,” Brother Rene Roy,
the principal, told the graduating class. “We are attempting to make the sun
break through the clouds of sorrow. We will all rise again as a family stronger
than ever in the values that really matter.”
Bishop Donahue had only 80 students, and before graduation many gathered in
the rain, drawn to the makeshift shrine that had grown in the last few days. There
were teddy bears and flowers, candles and some hand-written cards. There were
a basketball and a baseball bat attesting to the young women’s athletic prowess.
There were a pen and a dog-eared notebook alluding to their love for classes at
the school.
“The school itself is paying for the funeral arrangements,” Brother (Dan)
O’Riordan said… Brother O’Riordan took the podium at one point to announce that
Ms. Gross had just won the Bob Shaw Memorial Service Award and Ms. Block, the
Father Raymond Jablinske Memorial Scholarship.
“It’s their graduation,” he had said that morning. “It’s more important to celebrate
their lives than their deaths.”
back to index ===>>
From PATRICK GALLAGHER ‘53: To the many who never knew
Bill Sears (Msgr. Sears and formerly Br. William Mary ’52) they
missed a unique experience, for his rather gruff exterior hid a
great heart. While I spent four years combined in the juniorate,
novitiate and college following him, after being out of touch for
close to thirty-five years, he walked back into my life in typical Bill
Sears fashion. I had written to Marists All about having the “B and
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B” in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, and it happened that I
drove up to the old general store that now served as a post office.
(The gas pumps outside, long unused, registered 28 cents per
gallon.) I started to enter the store, when a bearded guy standing
there, in sharp tones said: “Where in the hell is the damn Wild
Geese Inn?” Startled, I turned toward him and noticed something
familiar in the eyes. He then slapped me on the back and said:
“Bill Sears, remember?”
Well, he came back to the place, and along with another couple,
friends from Texas, decided to stay the night. Just before dinner,
he asked whether he could say Mass at the dining room table. He
asked Les’s wife if she were Catholic, and she said no. “Do you
love God? Do you love Jesus? Do you love your neighbor?” Positive
answers were enough for Bill to give her First Holy Communion.
Her husband, raised a Catholic, had some problems and to Bill,
they were minor. Just the five of us participated in this wonderful
Mass, and then dinner. Afterwards Mary, my wife, and Bill spoke to
Les for close to two hours, sparking Les to say later that it was
one of the most moving and intimate times in his life.
When they left, Bill talked more about himself: his ordination in
1962 and his work in the Brooklyn diocese. Vietnam was the issue
at the time; we were sending more and more troops over there,
and Bill wanted to join as a chaplain. The diocese balked at this,
so Bill’s answer was that if they didn’t let him join as a Navy
chaplain, he was going to enlist as a “grunt.” The diocese relented
and Bill spent two tours in Nam. His time there came to a halt one
afternoon when a number of Marines were critically wounded in
the jungle. When a call went out for a minister, a Presbyterian
chaplain started getting ready. Since the other chaplain was
married and had a family, Bill offered to go in his place. They
reached the Marines and started transporting them back on an
Armored Personnel Carrier. A mine destroyed the vehicle, killed
the Marines and seriously wounded Bill. One of the medics
reaching the scene examined Bill and said to his companion: “Get
a body bag for this one!” Another medic intervened and saved
Bill’s life.
We stopped a couple of times in Englewood (FL) where Bill spent
the last ten or so years of his life, on a street named for him:
“Padre Lane.” On one occasion, Bill, knowing that because Mary’s
first husband was still alive when we were married in 1980 in a
civil ceremony, decided to give us a “church wedding.” So, at his
kitchen table, Bill went through the Catholic marriage ceremony
for us, and we went out to a local restaurant for our reception
where everyone seemed to greet him with, “Hi, Padre!”
Mary and I regarded him as a unique person who cared so much
for others, who was impatient with anything or anyone that stood
in the way of helping others. He was a good, caring priest, a warm
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and committed person, and a remarkably true Marist in his spirit
through all the experiences of Nam, the military, high school
teaching in Florida, parish work and the loving attitude he had
toward all in his community. (P.O. Box 310, Springtown, PA
18081; 610-346-7463;
marycaroline@verizon.net
)
back to index ===>>
From ROBERT SCHMID: It is with great sadness that we note
the passing of Br. John Murray. In September of 1967, five scared
young men began a lifetime of commitment at 4821 South Ellis
Street in Chicago. Four graduates of the charter class of Marist
High School – Brice Byczynski, Mark Hirschman, John Murray, and
Robert Schmid – were joined by recent Marist College graduate,
John Scileppi, for an adventure in inner-city religious formation.
The house on Ellis Street was owned by the Archdiocese of
Chicago and had once been the residence of Chicago mayor
Edward Kelly. The house was located in the Hyde Park/Kenwood
area of Chicago, the home of the University of Chicago. The Black
Muslim headquarters was two blocks away on Woodlawn Avenue.
Our local parish of St. Ambrose was home to Father Andrew
Greeley. Our neighborhood was one of the few integrated in
Chicago in the mid 1960’s. We had no idea the effect our religious
formation and this haven for free thinkers, communists, and other
undesirables would have on our personal development.
To guide us on this adventure were Br. Patrick (Martin) Harte,
Br. Lawrence Keogh, and Australian Br. Ronald Fogarty. Later in
the year Matthew Snowden joined us. We made note of the fact
that Martin Harte, Matthew Snowden, and Pius Xavier (first
principal at Marist High School) were all members of the same
group. We “affectionately” referred to them as Matty, Patty and Pi.
John Murray was the theatrical member of the group. Brice
was the jock. Scileppi was our intellectual and pharmacist. Mark
saw the world through the lens of his camera, and my role was to
keep Pat Harte busy at the Scrabble board. He slaughtered me
almost every time that we played.
During our Christmas break in 1967 we drove east to visit our
confreres in Tyngsboro. We stopped at Mount St. Michael en route
and had a free day to tour Manhattan. Murray was dying to see a
Broadway play, but some of the more obstinate members of the
group, including me, did all we could to thwart his wishes. Now,
thirty-eight years later, we wonder why we didn’t each go our own
way.
The spring of 1968 saw the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther
King and a period of heightened tension in our integrated
neighborhood and the surrounding ghetto through which we
needed to travel to commute to school. That summer we worked
in the recreation program at St., Ambrose. Murray put on a mini
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Hello Dolly production while Brice, Mark, and I played ball with the
kids on 47th Street.
These things all come to mind now that Murray has left us.
Mark, John Scileppi, and I had left religious life. But those years
did leave a lasting mark on us. Murray’s passing reminded us all
that we are still brothers. John Scileppi is on the faculty at Marist
College and very active in the Marist community. Mark is engaged
in the counseling profession and on the faculty at a nursing school
in Milwaukee. I “help” people as an auditor for the IRS but
continue to do my spiritual reading by teaching CCD classes. With
these early formation stories in mind, we remember Murray and
offer thanks for his presence in our lives.
(RJDB@comcast.net
)
back to index ===>>
(From the EDITOR: You may have been following John
O’Connell’s efforts to bring together those who were in the
juniorate and the novitiate back in the late ‘50’s. He initiated the
new terminology of “big B” and “little b” B/brothers and set up a
specific e-mail address for the large volume of correspondence:
OBbWAT@aol.com. The acronym stands for Oh, B/brother, Where
Art Thou? The following communiqués concern some recent
meetings on the West Coast as well as at Esopus. After the
California trip, Oke sent a short message: “Stupendous California
“gatherings”: in memoriam, Vinnie Hall and Bill Reffelt.”)
From RON PASQUARIELLO ’57: If observed by the Cotati (CA)
police, the following incident would have been reported as follows:
Thursday, March 10, 2005, 6 pm, a tan pick-up truck with Arizona
license plates pulled up in front of the residence of Ronald
Pasquariello. Four senior males jumped out of the truck, wrapped
their arms around Mr. Pasquariello, and forced him into his house.
Later that evening, neighbors reported a loud bang emanating
from said residence, along with sounds of shattering glass.
Pasquariello was held captive for two days. No ransom demand
was made.
“A good time was had by all,” is the way it would have been
reported in The Angelus, erstwhile juniorate newsletter. The “all”
in this case were: Oke O’Connell, George Conboy, Bernie Ortuoste,
Richie Shaw, and I. And the good time was a day and a half of
eating, touring, and reminiscing at Pasquariello’s house in Cotati
(CA) just south of Santa Rosa in Sonoma County.
They had driven seven hours north along California’s
superhighways. Pasquariello spent the day blowing up air
mattresses, baking bread, brewing tomato sauce, defrosting
meatballs, assembling dessert. Immediately on their arrival, we
began to recollect. Charles Schultz (native of Sonoma County)
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once said: “Just remember, once you are over the hill, you begin
to pick up speed.” We proofed that statement. Who knew
reminiscing could be such a wonderful experience? It expands
one’s being and brings out dimensions of one’s self that have been
submerged for years by one’s own personal selective amnesia.
It was forty-six years or more since Pasquariello had seen these
folks. And they were a sight to behold. But his dog Chipper loved
them anyway. One of the first things Richie Shaw (who grew up
within a few blocks of Pasquariello in the Bronx) offered is that he
had his first bagel at Ron’s house on a visit from the juniorate and
has been eating them ever since. Ron cried a little, finally realizing
that he had made a difference in someone’s life.
We chit-chatted into the wee hours of the morning, piggy-backing
on each other’s memories, riding herd on the long-winded, batting
stories around, eventually going off to count sheep after we got
dog-tired. Most of the stories were humorous and reminded us
how much fun our lives were together. Some memories were
momentous. All made an impact. One of the many observations:
the high degree of marital longevity among, not only those
present, but also all former Marists in general. Someone ought to
take a survey. Another: the aptness of Champagnat’s perspective
for guiding one’s life: humility, simplicity, modesty – very
Buddhist!
And we had, literally, a shattering experience. At the beginning of
the first evening, Ron had a fairly large coffee table in his living
room, with twelve pieces of ceramic on it. He had dusted off a
bottle of champagne to celebrate the reunion. Busy listening and
jabbering, he let the bottle of bubbly slip from his hand. He
immediately found out that the tabletop was made of safety glass.
It shattered into a thousand small pieces (which Ron is still busily
gluing back together). Ron now has a whole batch of chipped
ceramics to dispose of as Christmas presents!
On Friday Richie woke everyone with a Laudetur, Jesus Christus.
Oke intoned the Salve Regina. George intoned the solemn Salve.
After breakfast we toured wine country and took in the captivating
Sonoma Coast. Upon returning we continued to eat and drink and
walk the talk. The four mighty Marist marauders took off on
Saturday morning to repeat the road show at Kevin Finn’s, south
of San Diego.
Just think, if it weren’t for reunions like these, we would go
through life thinking we were perfect young gentlemen; that we
had not made a difference. We would go through life forgetting
how much we owe to one French priest and his followers. (8550
Larch Avenue, Cotati, CA 94931-4455;
1ron1@sbcglobal.net
)
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6/21/2021
Newsletter # 77
https://academic2.marist.edu/foy/maristsall/newsletters/newsletter80.html
10/13
From GREG BALLERINO ’57: Time Travel! Round trip! March 13,
2005. All in one day: what an experience! Newport Beach, CA to
Esopus, to Tyngsboro, to Poughkeepsie: a non-stop adventure
with delayed action episodes revisited and re-lived. Never did I
think I would or could find my way back there. But today I did!
“Oke” O’Connell, George Conboy, Bernie Ortuoste, Richie Shaw
and Kevin Finn created a safe place so that I could return to visit
Richard Ballerino (Dickie Bal, as some called me). It was safe
enough to look at and experience feelings still rooted in the
teenage years at Marist Prep.
I could not go back forty plus years and judge my possible
relationships at this gathering through the eyes of an adolescent.
So I let the memory be just that: a memory. Today I could relate
to these men as I am, accepting them as they are. No checklist,
no remarks, no faults, and no hidden agenda. What a relief: each
of us seeing the other as if for the first time. Each of us
authentic.... We no longer had to project the “image” of a Brother.
Rather, we are once again brothers on a cellular level that grew
from the Marist Prep experience.
Long ago, it seems in reflection, it was so important to adopt the
“image” of a Marist Brother. That meant a deliberate, careful
deconstruction of each one’s personality to become the larger-
than-life historical “image” of Marist Brother. For those of us
experiencing adolescent crisis of self-esteem and weak self-image,
adopting a new Marist image – one valued for its spiritual
personality and not its human personality – offered hope, escape,
and a future with purpose.
But back to the journey of that day: The truck had just pulled into
the garage at Kevin’s waterfront home. When I stopped in front of
the garage George and Richie turned, smiled and came to the car
window to greet me. Wow! Who were these men? I remember
them as mere teenagers. The sound of each voice connected me
with the teenage image I remembered. Now I saw and heard that
voice come from a man in his sixties. Time travel – forty plus
years – in an instant!
It didn’t take long to realize that we all connected on such a deep
level. Not even forty years absence could have broken that link.
What was happening to me, to us? Oke had called me out of the
blue, sent me an e-mail to announce his West Coast trip with
George and the planned meeting with Richie, Bernie, and Kevin. I
was invited to join them. Why did they want to see me? During
those early years I felt unknown, unrecognized and tried so hard
to fit in. Why reach out now? All my mind-chatter judgments
didn’t matter to these men. We were all there together on Kevin’s
boat and they wanted to hear what I had to say. Not only did I
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want to speak, but I also wanted to hear their voices and their
stories. And so it happened. I relived highlights of the past forty
years. And they did too. Pauses, questions, laughter, more stories,
anecdotes, more laughter, sober truth of loss, failures and
successes: the more we talked, the more I felt loved, accepted,
and respected “as is.”
Long ago, each of us silently slipped away to an unknown
adventure. Usual social courtesies like, “Good-bye, good luck…I’ll
miss you…take care…keep in touch if you need anything” didn’t
happen. It was never part of the Marist training. As each of us
spoke, I felt more proud to know these men today, more
concerned about them, more willing to be a friend and adopted
brother. What a gift I received!
For dinner we met at Kevin and his wife Madeline’s home. They
treated us royally in the most elegant home I have ever visited.
Kevin and Madeline opened their hearts to us and gave us a safe
place to be, to talk, to eat, to laugh, to ask questions, and to be
heard.
At one point in the evening, Madeline asked what prompted us to
join the Brothers and not become priests? As for me, I never
wanted to become a priest. From my initial experience at St. Ann’s
Academy, it was the model of a young man, energetic, intelligent,
friendly, caring, teaching, belonging, living life with a purpose and
career – that’s what I wanted to become. In time, I learned that
there was more to the model of Marist Brother. The other parts of
discipline, denial, religious life, giving up ownership of anything
material, sublimating the feelings of anything sexual, accepting
and blindly following authority, would now shape my most
vulnerable adolescent formative years. And I survived it!
Late in the evening I said goodbye. Not wanting to leave, not
knowing if and when I would see any of them again, I promised to
renew contact. I experienced both closure and a beginning. On the
two hour drive home my mind couldn’t leave the safe place of
love, friendship, caring, acceptance, and mutual respect that I
lived the past ten hours with Oke, George, Bernie, Richie, Kevin,
and Madeline. I traveled back in time to Esopus, to Tyngsboro, to
Poughkeepsie, and found the adolescent Richie Ballerino. Now I
can embrace and love that young adolescent, forgive the adult
Greg that made so many assumptions and had judged him
critically. In these final years, I will live with the fullness of who I
was, who I am, and who I will become. Thank you, my brothers.
(gregoryr38@earthlink.net
)
back to index ===>>
From JOHN O’CONNELL‘58: The Third Annual “Oh,
B/brother,Where Art Thou” gathering was held in Esopus, April
8/9/10 dedicated to the memory of Br. John Cherry ’59, RIP, who
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12/13
was to be among us that weekend, but not “just” in spirit, and of
b. Vinny Hall ’58 RIP (whose “anonymous passing stimulated our
search for those once pre-screened for us to join with in
friendship, now a friendship of over four decades, and of b. Bill
Reffelt ’58, RIP (whose last months among us prompted so many
of us to re-connect and acknowledge this special bond of
friendship as the gift it most certainly was, and still is. The
“OB/bWAT” grouping is primarily composed of those of us who
actually lived together, especially during our formative years in
“training,” but also “out” in community, excluding no one who
shares our interest in re-connecting these many years later, a
most amazing transcendence of 40+ years. Anyone interested in
obtaining an updated “directory” of the high school grades of ’56,
’57, ’58, and ’59, who either became, or almost became Marists,
OBbWAT@aol.com
.
Gathering together in April were: b. George Bagnell ’58 (NY); b.
John Brady ’57 (NJ); b. Jerry Byrne ’59 (NJ), B. Nick Caffrey ’57
(NY); b. George Conboy ’58 (AZ); B. Joe DiBenedetto ’59
(Esopus); b. Don Edwards ’57 (CT); b. George Farrell ’59 (NY); b.
Jim Friel ’54 (NY); b. Jim Gargan ’59 (NY); B. John Herrmann ’59
(NY); b. Pete Kuveke ’58 (FL); b. John McGalagly ’59 (NY); b. Paul
Maloney ’59 (MD); b. Pat Murphy ’58 (MD); b. Jim Murray ’55
(NY); B. John Nash ’59 (Poughkeepsie); B. Don Nugent ’59
(Esopus); b. John O’Connell ’58 (ME); b. Bernie Ortuoste ’58 (CA);
b. Joe Picciano ’59 (NY); b. Vin Poisella ’58 (NJ); b. Bob St. Amand
’58 (NJ); b. Bill Shannon ’58 (NJ); B. Jim Stevens ’59
(Poughkeepsie); b. Russ Therriault ’58 (FL); and b. John Wilcox
’57 (CT); brothers all! (15 High Street, Boothbay Harbor, ME
04538)
From JOHN BRADY ’57: A word about the April 9th OB/bWAT
gathering in Esopus: The whole atmosphere was one of respect
and appreciation of each other. Everyone was caring, supportive,
and genuinely comfortable with each other. That said so much
about us as individuals then and now, and about our common
experience and training as Marists over forty years ago. (3
Brookside Avenue, Hazlet, NJ 07730-2224; 732-739-3911;
jejpbrady@aol.com)
From GEORGE BAGNELL ’58: When first meeting some of my
B/brothers, only a few were recognizable to me. After all, it has
been forty years of receding hairlines and expanding waistlines.
But as soon as I heard the voices, saw the smiles and the look in
their eyes, old acquaintances were instantly renewed. The
weekend was filled with the sharing of one’s life history over our
separated years – stories of school assignments, jobs we’ve had,
families we raised. There were many reminiscences of our shared
times in the past, mixed with a lot of laughter and some tears. We
all shared a sense of revival, a renewed bond of togetherness,
friendship, and ONE BROTHERHOOD. I truly mean it when I say
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13/13
that it is really great to be back with you guys once again.
(gbagnell@optonline.net)
From DON EDWARDS ’57: The OB/bWAT “gathering” in Esopus
over the April 9th weekend was very special, and our lives are
richer for it. The mutual friendship of the little b’s and big B’s is a
gift of the Lord Himself. I still get teary-eyed thinking of some of
the life stories. We never know what people carry in their hearts
and souls. The command of the Lord that we don’t judge one
another becomes more meaningful each day. My life is richer now
because I walked away from our gathering feeling affirmed,
realizing how hard we all are on ourselves: and yet we live deeply
spiritual lives. This is the Spirit that binds “Marists All,” even when
some don’t know it yet. I can’t continue right now because of the
depth to which I have been moved by the weekend’s celebration
of lives and friendships. (Donald.j.Edwards@snet.net)
From BR. HANK HAMMER ‘75: I was reading the February
Marists All recently (I’m a bit behind!) and read about David
Kammer’s Christmas message and the e-mail he received from
“Doris” to “Carmel.” “Doris” is Doris Reischach, the secretary in
the Province Office, and Carmel is her friend. Doris is a wonderful
lady to work with. She was very impressed with the Christmas
message. (hankhammer@hotmail.com)
(Continue to remember in your thoughts and prayers: Br. Denis
Hever. Barney Sheridan, Don Schmidt, and all those who are
called to share in the Passion. And thanks to all those who made
written contributions to this issue of Marists All and to those who
sent a check to cover expenses: Bill Deschene and Pat Keilty. The
next issue should appear in early September. Please write! Editor)
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