THE EARLY YEARS AT MY CATHOLIC HS IN BOSTON, MA

Reads: 192  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Here is one of my favorite true stories as a freshman at Christopher Columbus Catholic HS in Boston, MA.
My homeroom priest was named Father Brennan. We were being taught exclusively by Franciscan Fathers. Father Brennan was a tall, young thin man and probably gay, now that I think of it. He also had it in for me because I played ice hockey at this small private Catholic school and received special treatment from the principal who by the way, became a taxi driver in Boston some years later.

Submitted: August 31, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 31, 2010

A A A

A A A


THE EARLY YEARS AT MY CATHOLIC HS IN BOSTON, MA

Here is one of my favorite true stories as a freshman at Christopher Columbus Catholic HS in Boston, MA.

My homeroom priest was named Father Brennan. We were being taught exclusively by Franciscan Fathers. Father Brennan was a tall, young thin man and probably gay, now that I think of it. He also had it in for me because I played ice hockey at this small private Catholic school and received special treatment from the principal who by the way, became a taxi driver in Boston some years later.

Father Brennan would come to our Friday night hockey games in Boston at the old Boston arena on Mass Ave, now Northeastern’s hockey arena. He once came into the locker room and said to me, “Hourihan you had a goodgame but you failed a religion test and won’t be playing the next week”. He once told me that he and I would eventually become good friends and that I would probably be a pallbearer at his funeral. I told him if that happens, I will tip the casket over so he would roll out on the aisle. As you can surmise, we never became close friends. A real bunch of buttes those Franciscan Fathers. 

It was my freshman year when this happened. We were taking those individual class pictures. You remember those. Well, I got this idea to change my appearance for the pictures. So, I took a pair of glasses from the resident geek, put on a bow tie and parted my hair with Vaseline like Alfalfa. The kids were going crazy with laughter. By the time I got to the photographer everyone was pretty much out of control. The photographer didn't want to take the picture with me looking like that...I had to think quickly so I told him that I really looked like this and the kids always made fun of me. He bought it, felt bad for me and took the picture.

Months went by and we all forgot about the pictures. Well, one day I'm in homeroom with Father Brennan and the rest of the class when a big box with all the pictures arrived. Everyone remembered at the exact same time what I had done. Now no priests or any authority figures were present when we took those pictures. The whole class turned and looked at me. I almost died because I knew those pictures would destroy this priest, who already hated me and get me in big trouble.

Brennan took the individual boxes with each students picture on the front for identification. Trying to be cool, (he wasn't at all cool) he would pick up each box and make some crack to the student. You know, "Georgie Rossi, your poor mother, too bad you look more like the dog".  He would then give then pictures to the student so their parents could buy the ones they wanted.

Now I'm sitting in my chair just waiting for him to get to me. It became very clear when he came to my Alfalfa picture. The look on his face was something to behold. He turned bright red with anger. Got up, and pointed to me and shouted, "I want your parents down here tonight". He never showed the class the pictures. This wasn’t so funny now.

The school was in the North End of Boston and in those days not a very safe place at night. That night I dragged my Italian mother Angie by train and bus, all the way to the school. Mom always handled this stuff because Dad was probably drinking. He did work hard at a meat-processing factory called Swift and Co in Cambridge. Free bacon and Seagram’s 7 for everyone.

On the way there I tried to tell her what to expect. She was more concerned about our safety and really wasn't listening to me. Every now and then she would give me the evil eye, which made her look like Charlie Calis, the comedian.

We arrived at the school around seven and there he stands, Father Brennan, still pissed, pacing back and forth. I guess he never got in touch with God. Now don’t forget, this was hours later...He immediately let in on my mother, "How disrespectful your son is etc. I have never seen anything like this before”. We still haven't seen the pictures.

At some point during his rant, he turned the box around and showed the large 5x7 cover picture to Angie. Well, she couldn't control herself and started to laugh hysterically while becoming a bit embarrassed as well while focusing that evil eye on me. Although she wasn’t very religious, she punched me and called me a stinker (her pet name for me) while giving me a little wink as if to say that was pretty funny Ronnie. As we were leaving, she said that she almost peed herself. That seems to run in the family as my sister Annie does that quite often when laughing. 

As the story goes, I almost got expelled except for a few other priests who thought the pictures were funny and don't forget, I played ice hockey, so it got pushed under the rug. That's my story and I’m sticking to it.

Needless to say, Brennan pretty much gave up on me at that point and never bothered me again. I hope you enjoyed my true story.

In my next short story I will tell you about a time when I was in the fifth grade with the nuns at St Joseph’s in Somerville, MA. It has to do with those rubber fake throw-up gags.


© Copyright 2018 Hap. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Unknown

avatar

Author
Reply