I'm a little vague about the details but in our senior year the Mentor schools suspended the bus service to St Joe's (as Daryl wrote up, there were buses that transported students from Mentor High and some Junior High Schools to SJ and back) - - I think it was temporary. To resolve the problem, several teachers who lived in Mentor area kindly offered students rides into and back from school. I rode with Mr Seme (who taught tech & architecture) with a couple of other guys - - maybe Rich Myers and Don Moffett? Mr Seme drove a 1967 (68?) Camaro and HE LOVED THAT CAR. So at the outset, he gave us the speech: when we opened the passenger side door, we had to be mindful to carefully curl our fingers under the door latch and lift. DO NOT BUMP YOUR FINGERNAILS UP AGAINST THE PAINT JOB AND LEAVE SCRATCHES. He said that he would not date women with long fingernails. I can imagine that discussion: "Be-yatch, if you scratch my paint job I'm gonna turn you over to Flailing Joe Farrell, and he's gonna paddle your sorry butt. Now hop in!"
Thanks to Shawn O'Malley for adding memorial pages for deceased faculty.
I was moved to record my memories of some of those men who influenced me. Which led me to recall some of my other favorite teachers, and offer them a tip of the hat and some gratitude.
Mr Searson stands out; he taught American Lit. It helps that I enjoyed the material, but I also liked the way that he handled the classes, serious but with some levity. I recall that for several weeks / months (?) of the term the class was taught by Mr Hitch (kind of a Dickensian name) who was doing a student-teacher gig I believe. I remember the rumor that while Mr Hitch was teaching, Mr Searson was driving the tour bus for the Grateful Dead. A long strange trip indeed. (this is not true).
Mr. Hoenigman also stands out for me. Again, I liked the 2nd year Biology class, but Mr Hoenigman did a good job in the classroom. As I recall, for Bio we had "large group lectures" in Room 231. Just like college!
Mr Vick was also memorable, for senior year English. We were reading some of the existentialists and as rebellious Catholic youth we latched on to the idea that "man did not have free will", so man could not be held responsible for sin, so the idea of judgment after death must be invalid. I made some comment about grace and the Holy Spirit and being responsible for maintaining a proper spiritual orientation. Mr Vick wrote in my yearbook "May the Holy Spirit always be with you. Even if you have no choice about it". Heretic!
One of my gratitude's about going to St. Joes is that we were led by extraordinary men. We were just kids with one. Meanwhile, one of the horrific wars our country ever fought going on.
Here we were wondering "should I get used to saying "eh?" or take a chance of getting my arse blown off in Vietnam". I truly believe our teachers were more like life consolers for a group of teenage boys, not quite men, who might be expected to do manly things in the upcoming months. Could you imagine this going on now? Remember, "please pray for this graduate class of 1960 something who was killed in Vietnam?" No wonder we drank so much MD2020 (thank's Ray for the foggy memory)
One of my favorite memories was Mr. Farrell. We had an unusual relationship. I found it rather enjoyable, although it made me wonder if I had masochistic tendencies. For some reason, I just had to wear engineering boots to school. For some unfathomable reason, this was against our already very liberal dress code. That meant a greenie. As Ed and other pointed out, it's either the cricket bat or one hour after school. Since my destiny involved studding snow tires at Lou's Tire Mart in Mentor to pay that exorbitant $450 tuition, I always chose playing the wicket with Mr. Farrell. If I had "Outlook" back in the day, I would have a reoccurring appointment …."get a.. Whack by Farrell, then hitchhike to Mentor". One day it changed up. It was a Friday. St. Joes was playing Mentor that weekend for the first time ever. There was about 20 of us who lived in Mentor. We had to take the bus from Mentor High School to St. Joes. It was a Friday morning. I was called down to the office along with some guys from '72; Tom (Sacarige), Mike (Burgerman) and Rob (Courtney) . Euphemistically speaking, we got into an altercation on the way to the bus. Mr. Farrell expressed deep disappointment for the disgrace that we brought upon St. Joes. Then Rob asked Farrell "the mentor kids had a sign that said, "Bag the Fag's". What were we supposed to do? I swear he had this look of pride in his eyes and said, "Get out of here". What kind of values did he give us that day? A more enduring memory of Mr. Farrell….I was cruising the halls and came across Miss Dolan's Spanish Class going on. It was full of Sophomores. I just had to stick my head in there and flip Miss Dolan off. I left feeling rather big of myself for how I must have impressed those Sophomores. Suddenly I found myself defying physics and flying in the air. This felt amazing until I slammed into the lockers and found out that Mr. Farrell was sitting in the back of the class. I was in Sin-bin for the rest of the quarter. I was called "finger" by Farrell for the rest of my time at Joe's. Thank you, Joe. You were the man. There were lots of them.
I remember the day they tore Tasty Burger down. I was sitting in Mr Wroblewski's Physics class up on the third floor and looked out the window to see the bulldozers. Right after class, I went down to the Yearbook office to get someone over there to take the pictures we used in the yearbook.
Memories. Where do I begin I have my own and also of my classmates.
Let's start off with all the mixers The football games The Assemblies and Rallys The plays. The rolls in the cafeteria that were so good when you put the gravey on them. The fights behind Robert Hall. The single slice pizza at Maxims. The malts and jukebox at Tasty Burger. The Mad Hatter. The Boones Farm wine we all got sick on. And many more I'm sure.
I wish I could have got to know everyone in our class, but that wasn't possible. But with the help and generosity of Frank Zbiegien getting us together at Paninis, we are meeting classmates that we didn't know existed. It doesn't matter if you were a Greeser a Mod or anything in-between, today we are all vikings and nobody has a title.
As we said many times during our Rallies and at games and still do. WE ARE ST. JOES
Does anyone remember B Weiser?? Third row. Second from last. What a great guy!!
Bob Brunozzi putting his hole fist in his mouth freshman year.
Taking a swat from Joe Farrel to leave early or stay in detention for the whole 45 min.
Bob Federico taking a swat from Joe Farrel but got caught with Book in his pants, so Joe gave him 2 swats and those hurt.