A phone call becomes a ticket Down Memory Lane

The phone rang this morning. Little I know it would take me back in time.

In 1968, a recent university graduate, I remember being interviewed for a teaching position at Brebeuf College School in northern Toronto, the boonies in those days.

I was really nervous in the interview, after all it was the first job interview I had ever done for a real job, a career. I remember the interviewees, the school principal, Fr. Robert Meagher and the Vice Principal, Neil Gazeley. Trying to sound ingratiating and full of youthful impetuosity, I boasted to the principal about my attending a Catholic boys school in my old home town, Sault Ste. Marie, St. Mary’s College. “Oh yes, I am very familiar with priests managing schools. I went to a school run by priests, Basilians.” 

Fr. Meagher replied, “I’m a Jesuit.” Gulp!

I taught at Brebeuf for 15 years until 1984, great years, many treasured memories, if only I could remember them.

Some I do and will just rhyme off some names for those alumni and former Brebeuf teachers who might read this:

Fr. Jim Toppings, “Door knob”, French teacher who never had a bad word about anyone;
Fr. Don Beaudois, “Chem lab run by an autocrat” but his bark was his biggest danger;
Fr. Clem Kambeitz, phys ed, coach, lover of football;
Fr. Robert Massie, incredibly articulate but could have starred on TV’s “Mom;”

So many teachers who were dedicated, energetic and devoted to doing the best job they could….and they did:

Lou Puccini, a gentle math teacher, like no other;
Pete Lee, French with sincerity and enthusiasm;
Bob Lato, math, but he couldnt handle a hammer or a screwdriver;
Mike Skebo, an oenologist before his time;
Tom Sullivan, a more well-read man doesn’t exist;
Jim Barry, the world’s best raconteur, always Waiting for Godot!
Bill Kennedy, phys ed head who managed his dept like a business;
Stan Kosior, ya needed a dictionary to talk with him;
Jim Hill, basketball coach who tolerated me as an assistant coach and whose phrase about our lasting impact on life has never left me: “Put your hand into a bucket of water, take it out. That’s what will remain after you are gone.”
Dan Dirocco, ran the best history dept in the school;
Holly Doyle, looked he just came back from dry cleaner’s…every day;
Fr. Winston Rye,  a better school administrator doesn’t exist.


I even remember some of the best secretaries in the world, Eileen, Agnes, Helen, and Carine…great ladies all with wonderful personalities.

There were so many other great teachers, and not all men either. But the memory fades with the passing years. This morning it was jarred back a little by a phone call from Nabil Tadros, a former student, who went on to become a teacher and an outstanding basketball coach. Nabil wanted my permission to use my name and photo on an award. Me? Of all people. 

Here’s a summary of what Nabil said:

I have so much to tell you.
 
When I retired from Huron 10 years ago I reached out and called a few of my former teachers to thank them for not strangling me. You were on that list but I was unable to track you down until now. Thank you, You have no idea what a positive influence you were on me and many of my classmates and how much I appreciate your classes and the time you put into making the yearbooks. I remember seeing you at many of our games taking pictures and never thanked you for it. Your yearbooks have become priceless treasures of the past. To this day I have never seen a yearbook with pictures as clear and sharp as the ones you published.
 
Re: Brebeuf, I have put together a list of the “pioneer coaches/teachers” and we are honouring their work with an MVP trophy named after them. I have been scanning all kinds of pictures for the plaques. I attached the 2 of you. Although I should use the headshot I love one of you saying “close the door on your way out.”

Close the door on your way out!”

This entry was posted in DOWN MEMORY LANE. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A phone call becomes a ticket Down Memory Lane

  1. Love it.
    Great summary of your colleagues.
    Other memories have popped up. You were the first one to ask me if I knew the song “ahab the arab” right after “walk like an Egyptian” came out. By the way Egyptians today still love that song and there are many variations of that in Arabic.

We welcome your comments which help us to improve our site.