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3 • CHAPTER 2 April 2003
Well, the party's over. We had 89 people at the banquet Saturday night. Nicholas Wade, '53, came the farthest - all the way from Oslo, Norway. Ed O'Donoghue, '52, came a fair distance, too, from Alaska. We had lots of Hallorans: Fr. Walter Halloran, '39, was our guest of honor; Jack Halloran, '46, and Mark Halloran, '49, were joined by their two sisters, Mary Harrington (and her son, Tim) and Sr. Ann Halloran, OP to make it a family party. Father Walt was also the oldest alumni there, but that didn't stop him from celebrating Mass Saturday night. The youngest alum was one of three gents from the Class of '70, Fred Nora, Tom King, or Mark Criqui - but I didn't want to embarrass them by asking who was the "baby" of the reunion.
The weather on Friday was sunny and in the 80s; Saturday wasn't as good with temps in the lower 70s and a storm blowing in Saturday night; Sunday was cool and windy - probably didn't get over 60.
The food was excellent, the view from the hotel exceptional, the Naval Air Museum tour extraordinary, and the golfing great - once they found the course.
I'd like to thank everyone who came and especially thank the following alumni who contributed to bringing Father Halloran to the reunion as our guest - all expenses paid. Also had enough money left over to help Sister Ann Halloran defray some of her ex-penses. They are: Lester C. Sentz, '40; Robert Largura, '60; Martin McNamara, '61; Carl A. Nordberg, 53; Patrick J. Holland, '60; Mark Monaghan, '49; Frederick Bransfield, 48; Irv Bruce, '47; Jim & Joe Holloran, '61 & '63; John Dunn, '64; and David Keeney, '47. A gent who was impressed with Father Halloran's teaching tech-niques at St. Louis U High, Lester Hohl, also found out he was our guest of honor and made a contribution. Hope I didn't forget anyone and thanks for your generosity!!
I'd also like to thank the reunion committee for all the help: Fred Nora, '70; Dick Crenshaw, '60; Mike Redmond, '61; Bill Hunter, '55; and Bob Costello '52. Thanks to Fr. Dick McGarrity of the Jesuit Partnership for their assistance with the mailouts, and, of course, I'd like to thank Aaron Huguenard, '47, my mentor and the old cur-mudgeon who had the foresight to organize the first All-Class Reunion and to make it easy for me to follow his blueprint. Chuck Lambeck, '60
Many of us during our time in this vale of sorrows have had loved ones seduced by the vixen alcoholism. We Campion grads are not exempt from this malady. One of our brothers, Henry Kemp '46, has a most interesting and warming story to tell. The following two stories were written by Henry for publication in "The AA Grapevine", a newsletter provided by that organization. The first from the March, 1980 edition, the second from the June, 2002 edition. Text in italics is excerpted from a letter Henry re-cently wrote to an old Campion friend.
hen I was twenty-one years old, going on nine, I was married. That marriage lasted about two and a half to three years. During the course of that marriage, which was blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, I came home drunk on an average of three to five times a week. Part of my life story is the substantial and prestigious contribution I made to elevation of the three martini lunch through the beatitudes to sainthood.
More than a quarter of a century later, there are few details that I remember, but it is certain that on many occasions I came home in a blackout, when I came home at all. On at least two of those occasions, when I woke up in the morning, I saw that my wife's face was badly battered. Obviously, I had gotten violent in the blackout and beaten her. At the end of a couple of years of that, she rightfully took the children and ran for her life and their well-being.
A short time later, she remarried, and the name of her new husband was kept from me. He eventually adopted the children, so that their name was changed, and I did not know what the new name was, or where they were living.
For many, many years, I lived with this guilt. Or, more honestly, I bathed this guilt in copious and generous amounts of John Barleycorn, until, at age forty-two, still going on nine, I arrived in the loving arms and hands of Alcoholics Anonymous.
I tried to follow all the suggestions that were made to me. I was told to use the corny slogans, and I did, and they worked. I was told to join a group and make coffee, and I did, and it worked. I was told to get a sponsor, come early, stay late, clean up, and do all the other things that newcomers are advised to do. I did, and it worked. I found that when I followed my fellow AAs' suggestions, I felt better, and the compulsion to drink left me.
When it came time to look at the Steps, I already had that track record to trust. I did trust, and it worked. Of course, when I came to the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Steps, I was able to deal with the guilt and bathe in the loving and forgiving Higher Power that I had found in AA. If God had forgiven me, surely then, I could forgive myself.
At the Eighth and Ninth Steps, it was clear that I could do little more than forgive myself regarding that early marriage. Since more than twenty years had passed, and I didn't know the surname of the children and their parents, and had no idea where in the world they were living, I let it rest there. I had done the Steps to the very best of my ability, and the tools of the program had given me the comfort that had been promised.
Had I waited until I was "ready," until I was more "comfortable" with the Steps, the joy and relief that came with doing the Steps when it was suggested would have been denied me. But most important, dealing with the Steps when it was time gave me a guilt-free existence. It gave me the room to grow in the program.
It would be misleading to indicate that it was easy and comfortable to do these things when I did. The temptation was very strong to put it off until another day, until I was "ready." But the only real route I could see was to do it immediately, knowing that my faith in the program would somehow or other see me through.
One night a few weeks ago, the telephone rang, and one of those children from a quarter of a century ago was on the line. Subsequently, her brother came into the picture. They had grown up on the other side of the country, and both now had an understandable curiosity regarding their natural father.
Recently, I spent four days and three nights with my son in what has to be among my most rewarding experiences. I had been absent during the early years of his life, but I was now able to show him a whole person, with many years of comfortable sobriety behind me, and the maturity that goes with that.
For my part, I found a mature, excited, contagiously enthusiastic man, with whom I had a great and enjoyable time. It is obviously the beginning of a long and satisfying rela-tionship for each of us.
My son is, among other things, an accomplished glider pilot. At his suggestion, we went to Elmira, in the beautiful Finger Lakes area of New York, where he allowed me to experience the thrill of motorless flight on a brilliant fall day. We shared life experiences, he with his flying and me with my sailing. His marvelous sense of humor allowed us to share many laughs during the visit. Along the way, I have owned several boats and took many of my vacations chartering a sailboat in various regions of the Caribbean.
In 1987, for no reason other than it was another mountain to climb, I decided to write for a United States Coast Guard Master & Navigator license. It is a tough eight-hour exam that I was surprised to pass. It was never my intention to use that license profes-sionally. But today I hold a 100-ton Master & Navigator for steam, motor and auxiliary sail license, good for 200 miles off shore in the Atlantic, Pacific, Gulf of Mexico and all the Great Lakes. I now do some charter and / or delivery work, and it is great fun, but not much money. For the last several years I have owned and sailed a 33' Heritage West Indies sail boat. Much fun. I have also sailed to Cuba four times legally. I have never had the urge to go there illegally. It is an interesting and fascinating island.
Quite unexpectedly, our schedule allowed time for an AA meeting. It was an open meeting, so he accepted my invitation to come along. We were received with AA warmth and love. It was a group where I had never been before, but he was able to see firsthand the love and warmth available to all of us through the program. When I shared the ex-perience that I have told here, there was spontaneous applause. (Before I spoke, another man related stories of grim events, results of his actions during a blackout; today, he is a resident of an upstate New York prison. My son had an opportunity to hear of blackouts from a different perspective.)
Time was running out on his visit, and he had never been to New York City. When questioned, he indicated that the one thing he really wanted to see there was the stock ex-change. He was thrilled by it, but the biggest thrill for me was being able to watch and participate in his excitement and joy during our reunion. The tremendous bear hug that he gave me just before he boarded the plane to return to California was a real fringe bene-fit.
Shortly, I will journey to the other side of the country to visit with my daughter and her new bridegroom. I look forward to this journey with high expectations but, more important, with the absolute faith that practicing these principles in all my affairs will allow me to go to that reunion in guilt free comfort. That comfort comes to me only because I did what I was supposed to do when I was supposed to do it, in terms of the program and the Steps. We are responsible only for the effort, not for the results. But we most certainly are responsible for the effort. We have to show up for life.
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s a public information chair in my district, I have had frequent opportunities to speak about AA in public, middle and high schools. Our committee's presentation describes some AA history, what AA does, how it works, and what AA does not do. It takes about thirty-five minutes, leaving twenty minutes for discussion.
Recently, we were invited to make this presentation at a local juvenile detention center to a group of forty twelve- to fourteen-year-old boys incarcerated there. They were re-spectful during the presentation, and the discussion was lively, interesting, and probing. The attention they gave to our responses was mature, respectful, and absorbing. When the authorities signaled that the session had to end, the group rose and gave me a standing ovation. What an unbelievable experience! Clearly, a major highlight of thirty-one years of sobriety. But the best was yet to come.
About an hour after I returned home, the teacher/moderator called and asked for my mailing address. More than half the young men had spontaneously asked to send me a thank-you note. A few days later, I received a packet of twenty-four poorly written notes with poor grammar, poor spelling, poor sentence structure, but very genuine thanks. Tears of gratitude flowed down my cheeks. We are truly chosen. Suit up and show up and wait for the miracle.
Henry enjoyed a long and successful career with the Ingersoll Rand Company.
Greetings fellow Campion survivors, I apologize for not responding earlier, but time did not seem to permit it. This must be God's timing because I just received the latest newsletter about Fr. Halloran and have time to make my life story (Readers Digest Short Form) available to my classmates and whomever else (?). My name is Bill Barnes, class of 58. My wife and I live at 21430 Fieldcrest Drive, Elkhorn, Nebraska (68022). Elkhorn is a small community adjacent to Omaha which offers the small town quality of knowing almost everyone (we get mail addressed Bill & Virginia, Elkhorn...and it somehow finds its way to our house) and yet be very close to major hos-pitals, shopping centers, Boys & Girls Town, etc.
After graduating from Campion I entered Creighton University in Omaha (another fine Jesuit institution...for those needing an institution) and in what seemed like an exorbitant amount of time received a degree in Pharmacy. My wife and I met on a blind date during our freshman year and will celebrate our 40th anniversary on June 1st of this year. We have 5 children...1 son and 4 daughters...our son is a major in the army and he and his family are stationed in Korea for the next 3 years. Although a Company Commander, he still finds time to fly a Blackhawk helicopter. Our 4 daughters all live in Omaha or in Lincoln, Nebraska (state capital... 53 miles from Omaha).
My professional career consisted of working for the University of Nebraska Medical Center, then owning our own pharmacies, then returning to the University setting, and finally I am now the pharmacy director for one the State of Nebraska veterans administration's nursing home. As a side note, I did run into Bob Listecke (also class of 58) on one of our trips to Chicago. We did not, however, have much time to spend together.
Five years ago I was ordained a Deacon in the Omaha archdiocese and serve at St. Vincent de Paul parish. That is the capsule view of my life. I have really enjoyed reading the "Campion Forever" newsletters. Please keep up the good work.
Thanks for listening. I hope this will establish some dialogue from others...especially classmates. God bless.
Last year the leftist long march through the institutions of higher education trampled un-derfoot the St. Ignatius Institute, an acclaimed great-books program at the Jesuit-run Uni-versity of San Francisco. Now the Jesuits, who gutted the tiny program, have gone one better: They've exiled Institute founder Fr. Joseph Fessio, SJ, to a hospital chaplaincy in southern California. Fessio's crime? Attempting to resurrect the St. Ignatius Institute out-side the confines of USF, renaming it Campion College. The very existence of a school where traditional Catholic humanism is taught was too much for the San Francisco Jesu-its, whose move to rid themselves of this meddling priest is a clear attempt to kill off the nascent college. Fr. Fessio, who may be the last Jesuit on the West Coast who still knows what it means to obey, has accepted his fate; the future of Campion College is uncertain. This is an issue that should concern not just Catholics, but all who fear for true intellec-tual diversity and the Western tradition in higher education.
From The Campionette - December 18, 1930, p.6
There are in this cold world of ours, rays of sunshine which may be hidden from our sight and which will come to our notice indirectly if at all. Yet this particular ray of sun-shine is responsible for part of our happiness and is immensely interested in us.
This is true of our late friend Martin Betzie, who was for twenty years a friend of all Campion boys. He was interested in anything that was at all connected up with Campion, be it sport or otherwise. He was interested in advertising the school among parents. When the parents came at Thanksgiving and Easter he always had the very best as noth-ing was too good for the parents of Campion students.
He started as a mere worker in the refectory twenty years ago, when he was only twenty-three and he worked himself up to his latest job, which was that of Chef. He went through numerous steps to get this high. He was, however, modest and did not push him-self or his handiwork forward. He did his best and was rewarded.
He thought himself personally responsible for all the meals and he always had the meals for the students cooked to the right pitch and he always had them on time. There was no complaint about the meals when he prepared them. And in his quiet unassuming way he went on gathering friends and keeping them. The fellow workmen are grieving his death and in the only way possible, aiding him. They had twenty-four Masses said for him and besides this the faculty said more.
His wife and children, numbering five, still live in the cottage across the tracks on the left hand side of the road. He had his home and a car and they were his own and there-fore his wife will receive them. She, after this chalice shall have passed will continue as a seamstress. And our ray of sunshine will be her fondest memory.
But it is those who are not known to us and who do not obtrude who are really our friends at heart. Of course there are friends who will be prominent but this friend is one that didn't. After twenty years in the basement preparing our meals, and getting our re-fectory prepared without so much as a complaint he surely deserves our thanks and prayers. Our little ray of sunshine will shine down on us from heaven I hope instead of from the kitchen where be worked so hard in our behalf.
Andy Rooney's Thought On Life
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. And then you die. What's that? A bonus? I think the life-cycle is all backwards. You should die first and get it all over with. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young. You get a gold watch. You go to work. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol and party. You get ready for high school. You go to grade school and become a kid. You play. You have no responsibilities. You become a little baby & go back into the womb. You spend your last nine months floating... Then, you finish off as an orgasm. I like it.
His thoughts after a recent reunion:
August 4, 2002
I realized during our time together that we are really more than classmates. The many experiences that we had together makes us more like brothers. That was very evident to me during the weekend. I just wish we had more classmates with us. Maybe at our 50th.
I am writing this on Sunday afternoon. Perhaps like you, I am exhausted, probably emo-tionally more than physically. It is a very good exhaustion! I will have many fond memories of our time together, especially our Mass on Saturday evening. Father Tom and Father Jack had wonderful messages for us. I was very touched and not a few tears came to my eyes.
It was difficult to leave after our get together on Saturday night. Everyone seemed to have such a great time. The bartender mentioned to me "These are very special people. I am very impressed with them." I have to say that I am impressed also. I am impressed with the sense of kindness and spirituality that I noticed over the weekend. Father Jack's remarks about how the Jesuits worked to instill those qualities in us was certainly true. I do not want to get "deprogrammed." I value most highly the opportunities I had at Cam-pion. They gave me much more than I realized. The older I get the more thankful I am that sacrifices were made so I could go to Campion. Thank you all for your great partici-pation. I pray for all my classmates and their families every day.
May God bless you,
This from Tom Doyle '47, who never misbehaved:
There were a number of us who lived in the basement of Marquette Hall - Joe Tighe, Tim McCarthy, Jack Joyce, Gene Eagan and my roommate Gene Sapper. We often had a string of guys coming thru our window after "lights out" to get back after the doors were locked. We even prowled the tunnels one night going to Campion Hall and the boiler room. They locked our room with a key to the lower lock but we just happened to have a skeleton key ourselves so got into our rooms anyway. We did get caught though with five Hail Marys and five Our Fathers as penalty. Lucky we didn't get kicked out which seemed to be the story of our class of '47. A memorable occasion was the combined St. Mary's and Campion choir presentation of "Happy Holidays" our senior year. Mrs. Sweeney and Kohanski directed it and when they were ordained they sent a special remembrance card and letter to all of the choir members. A very thoughtful thing for them to do. Again, thanks for the latest letter and all you efforts. My wife and I spend our winters in Tucson, AZ, so if anyone else is nearby please get in touch.
P.S. My brother in law, John Baumann class of '41,who was listed in the recent mailing passed away three years ago from cancer. For those who may have died you might consider making note of that on your mailing list.
Ed sez... many of you have asked that we publish obits. We are gathering a file at this time. Y'all can help us compile the list if you are so inclined. We will all appreciate it. Thanks.
As a member of the class of '39, I remember Father James O'Connor and James Tainter. I came to Campion because of Father Dan Lord, who was a classmate of my father, Syl-vester McGeevey at St. Ignacius College in 1909, Chicago Ill. Upon leaving Campion in '39, I returned (to) Albany, NY to attend Siera College class of '43.
This never came about. In 1943 I was in N. Africa because of the event of WW II. My address was then APO 520, NY NY 320 Bomb Group; 441st Squad. Before my 23rd birthday, I flew 40 missions in a B-26 and went down five times (I be-lieve this is a record).
I left the service in 1945 as a Capt and returned to Siera and finish(ed) with class of '48 5 years late.
In 1948 I moved to Long Island and invented the Long Island Furniture Co. which I have been running for fifty three years.
Now after sixty three years I am thinking of Campion because of a news letter. I want to advise the alumni of a fact I am sure very few people know about. The #3 fighter pilot of WW II was Col. Francis Giebeski. He flew P 47 planes and shot down 33˝ planes plus five more in Korea. His marriage took place in '43 or '44 at the Campion Chapel. The story is his future wife knew a Brother at Campion. The Col. Died last year in Dix Hills Long Island (age 86). I went to the wake and saw a picture of the Col. And his wife in front of the Chapel.
Hugies • Campion • Forever !!!