Keeping up with Ron Genini - an interview with the esteemed Central HS history teacher

I thought at this time you might also like to stay in touch with another classmate - Ron Genini - he was interviewed by a TV station in his Fresno area as a very well liked and respected history teacher.  See the interview here: https://youtu.be/eeBOdvKpTJs . Ron had a really hard bout of nerve pain that was just this past year treated and he is relieved of the pain.  Let him know you had a chance to view this interview. I know he would appreciate it.

I regret that I did not get a chance to post this note from Mike Flaherty That I received over a week ago as I was away from my computers.....

We have another passing to report: Mike Pickard. The note from Mike Flaherty that he wanted me to pass on to everyone is as follows:
Michael McCoy Pickard, a resident of Dunsmuir, CA. passed away at 9pm on Tuesday, September 1, 2015 at the Mercy Medical Center in Mount Shasta, CA., due to heart failure. He was born in Oakland, CA M...arch 25,1946. Mike worked for Southern Pacific RR as a conductor for 30 years. In retirement, he loved fishing the Sacramento River in Dunsmuir. A celebration of life was held on September 26, 2015 in Mt. Shasta. 
 

One more piece of information from Mike Flaherty that I see has now passed (apologies to all!)
Also...Si Wrigley, class of 64, will have a funeral celebration of life in Chico, CA at the Church of the Devine Savior at 1:00pm on October 10th, this Saturday.

I will try to find the families to see if there is a way for anyone to communicate their condolences.
I have updated the Class of 64 Facebook page and I will attend the BLOG page as well shortly.
https://www.facebook.com/SMCHS64

 

Jim Stewart bring his story to the Blog....How did that happen???? Thanks Jim!!

A message from Jim Stewart after I "shamed" him into spilling his life story!  Thanks Jim it reads terrific!!!

I promised Brian I would submit my boring history to the blog site so here goes.....

I was born when I was very young, the sun didn't shine, and I was raised in the canebrake by an ol' Mama lion...oh..wait..that's another story.

I was born in Berkeley, Feb. 5, 1946. My father was (soon to be) a jeweler in San Francisco and my mother was a sales person at Capwell's in El Cerrito. I had a very normal childhood. No medical problems (physically that is). Some might say I was a bit crazy, but, hey, aren't we all a little bit crazy? Anyway, good parents got me into St. Mary Madeleine's and there I received my first experience in parochial schools. I guess I did OK as I made it all eight years and graduated in 1960. On to St. Mary's. The most educational 4 years of my life as well as the most fun. We all know what all of us did at St. Mary's so I can skip over most of it. Suffice it to say it was a great four years and the memories will last forever and the lessons I learned there served me very well. I  had several jobs during High School. Pharmacy delivery, detailer in a used car lot, etc.

OK, after  successfully completing 4 glorious years at St. Mary's I found the freedom from mandatory attendance too much to pass up. So, my tenure at Oakland City College was short and sweet. I entered the working world with Standard Oil, working as an attendant at a station at Carlson Blvd. and Hwy 80 in Richmond. I even had a little white Chevron hat. Along about the spring of 1966, I was approached by my sister's former husband, and he asked if I would be interested in working with him on a summer job. It was to be a handy man at a Girl Scout camp north of Placerville. He had met my sister at a Girl Scout camp when she was a counselor, and he was a handy man, in the early 60's. They married, but it was short-lived. So, now he was going to work a summer gig at this new camp, and needed an assistant. Sounded good to me. I mean, really, two guys, and about 18 to 20 college-aged counselor gals, stuck in the woods, under the stars, etc. Yeah..I was all over it. I tended my resignation with Standard Oil (Later to become Chevron U.S.A.), and packed my bag for the piney woods  of the California gold country. It was a great job and there was gold, "in them thar hills". Met some wonderful ladies, kept busy keeping the camp going and got paid for it. Somewhere in the middle of the summer, it was determined we needed additional help in the kitchen. My long time pal, Greg Schifsky, came up and finished the summer working in the mess hall.  It was a summer to remember. All went well that summer of "66 aside from one little hitch...the draft board. They finally caught on to my not being in school, and my draft notice came in July of "66. I was able to finish the camp job, but had to report two days after camp closed to the Oakland Army induction center. Thus began my military career.

I reported to Oakland on Aug. 16, 1966. I avoided being sent to the Marine Corps, and was promptly put on a bus to that seaside resort near Monterey, Ft. Ord ! Now, this was not so bad. Ft. Ord has a decent weather pattern, and is in one of the most beautiful spots in California.  We saw a lot of sand and bushes, and spent a good deal of our time down by the ocean firing our M-14's, the WOD (Weapon of the Day).  I figured if I could get through 4 years at St. Mary's under the watchful eyes of the Christian Brothers, Basic Training and the Drill Instructor's  (D.I.'s) would be a snap. Well, it was not a snap, but I was able to complete the 8 weeks. Looking back, probably the best 8 weeks I ever endured physically. One learns a lot of one's self in Basic. I have no doubt the discipline I learned at St. Mary's carried over into my military service. I completed Basic in Oct. of 1966. During basic, I was told I qualified for Officer's Candidate's School (OCS) never did find out just how I qualified, I think it was because I was a warm body. I said sure, I'll go. At the end of Basic I received orders for my next Advanced Training and it assigned me to a light vehicle drivers company. Cool, I was going to be a truck driver.  However, those orders were rescinded since I was on the list for OCS. I was now to go to infantry for the next 8 weeks. I did not like the change and opted out of the OCS offer, but I still ended up in infantry - bye bye truck driver job. It was during that 2nd 8 weeks that they offered those of us who opted out of OCS a shot at Drill Sgt. school, which was on the Ft. Ord post. I did some checking and it turned out that if you passed D.I. School, you would be "stabilized" in a training center somewhere in the U.S. for at least 18 months. Now, I saw that as an opportunity stay Stateside for the length of my hitch ,(two years).I accepted the offer for D.I. School and  I was assigned back to a Basic Training unit and worked there until I started my D.I. school.  I finished D.I. school in June of 1967. I was assigned back to the unit where I had been working prior to D.I. school and finished my hitch there, never leaving Ft. Ord in two years. Thus, was my military career.

During that time in the service,  I married my high school sweetheart, Barbara, not too long after I was in the Army.  We lived off post in an apartment along with a bunch of other G.I.'s and their wives.  Our son, James, was born in late November of 1967.  We lived a happy life, me working at Ft. Ord and Barbara being a wife and mother. Upon my discharge in August of 1969, we moved back to the Bay Area. We found a good deal on a town house apartment complex in Richmond, near the El Cerrito border off Carlson Blvd. Yes, there I was again, back on Carlson Blvd (remember, I worked at the Standard Station only a few blocks away in 1965-66). Funny how things work out. We knew we did not want to live in Richmond, or the Bay Area for that matter. We were looking for a quieter place.

I had landed a job with Chevron U.S. A.  as soon as I left the service which is why we started out in Richmond. I applied and was hired to be a tanker driver. Since the loading terminal was in Richmond, the Richmond apartment was handy, but not to our liking. As soon as we could, we began looking for homes outside of the Bay Area. We settled on Napa. It was still a relatively unknown area, not too far from our families but away from the congestion and confusion of the Bay Area. It was a 40 minute commute to work, so not all that bad. The only thing most people knew back then about Napa was it had a very well known mental hospital. Although a well known wine region at the time, the "wine craze" had not started quite yet. We moved to Napa in Sept. of 1969. Our daughter, Jennifer, was born April 22, 1970 at Queen of the Valley Hospital in Napa. And there we were,  Dad, Mom, son, daughter, dog, cat, rabbits, rats, hamsters and whatever else critter found a nest in our home. I commuted to Richmond, drove tanker trucks, from the biggest Truck and Trailer rigs to the small bobtails,  and dispatched trucks for Chevron from 1968 until 1977. I maintained a First Class license with Haz Mat, full truck and trailer endorsements until about 5 years ago.  In 1977, I was then I was offered a job by the brand new Chevron distributor for the Bay Area.  The distributor handled the smaller deliveries of Chevron products, things the Company would not do. I took that job as a Operations Manager and worked with that company from 1977 to 1995, going through 3 owners in the process. I had been  driver, Opns. Mgr. Salesman, Sales Mgr.  and the Division Mgr. for the company. In 1993, when the third owner took over, it was clear he was going to just peel all the accounts into his existing distributorship and close the doors of the company I was managing. He still kept most of us on, but in different capacities. After about a year and a half with the new owner, I opted to work for another distributor of Chevron products. I spent 3 years working for them as a reserve driver, mostly salesman and then inside to Customer service.  In 1998  I went on my own and became an independent representative for a line of high quality lubricants, i.e., expensive oils with special performance additives. Thus was born that Mega-World Wide Consortium- Norcal Enterprises. Norcal  had an employee list of one, me. But, I now had a name on the books.

Meanwhile,,,,backing up a bit..

My first marriage ended in 1994 and we parted on friendly terms. We are still on good terms  to this day. She remarried as did I, but more about that later. The kids were grown and were making lives and families of their own.  In 1996, Cameron James Stewart was born and I had my first grandchild.  Olivia Diane Stewart was born, January 10, 2000, our own little Millennium baby. My daughter Jennifer married in 2003 and her husband, Bill,  had a son from his first marriage, Corey, so I now had a third grandchild. Then, on August 18, 2004, Madison Marie  was born to Jennifer and Billy. So, a grand total of four grandchildren.

OK, back to my fascinating work history....

As an independent rep, I worked out of my home and had a 6 county territory, all nearby.  I had a lot of freedom, made my own schedule and traveled the six counties around Napa County. I was now single and living the bachelor life. Still in Napa, I had a great roommate who also used to work at the oil company with me. I was doing the independent oil rep job in 1999 when I happened to meet a lady from Sacramento. She was a Licensed Private Investigator. We started dating and I became very curious about her line of work. It was quite fascinating to say the least. We started working together on a few cases and turns out I was pretty good at it. We did witness interviews, pre-text work, research work, skip tracing (finding people who usually don't want to be found), surveillance and the works. I went for it like a hobo on a hot dog. Our relationship lasted about 18 months and we parted in late 2000. However, prior to our separating, she showed me how to get my foot in the door in Napa and said she would give me a referral if needed. I did some ground work in Napa, met a P.I. who needed some help and a friendship/partnership was born. I have been doing work for Greg Stuchman Forensics of Napa since 1999. I did a lot for him from 1999 to 2003 or so.  It was then when his former assistant finished school and came back to work for Greg. I knew about all this when he hired me in 1999. I still did work for Greg and even obtained my Process Server's License in 2002.  Then, in 2002, a new opportunity presented itself. I  entered the Worker's Compensation investigation field.

It was all doing interviews of claimants who had come under suspicion for one reason or another. I was assigned to learn about the how, what, why, when, etc. of their claims. The company I worked for, Stewart Investigative Services (no relation) out of Rancho Cucamonga  (yes, there is such a place) specialized in Worker's Comp cases. They had a complete team of surveillance guys as well as up front investigators (we called ourselves "interviewers", sounds less threatening) like myself. It was a good deal from 2002 to 2006. Got to travel all over the state, meet all kinds of, shall we say, "unusual" people and really liked it. The work got a little thin in 2006 due to some changes in the Worker's Comp laws. It was not to the employer's advantage to investigate claims as it had been in the past.  It was easier to pay off the claimant now than fight them. So, that work sort of dried up. But between Stewart's, Stuchman and my own cases, I was doing fine.

Now, it had been about 10 years since I ended my first marriage and I was getting a little discouraged that I had not met someone I felt would be my new life partner. Then, along about April of 2003, I met Linda. She is one great lady. Sweet, smart and independent and a wonderful sense of humor. We hit if off pretty darn quick. We loved to travel, go to ball games, lounge on weekends, movies and all those things. We just went with the flow and it was a great feeling. We married on July 11, 2009 at Brix's Restaurant and Gardens north of Yountville. I have been one very happy camper ever since we met. Linda is still very active and is a business analyst and work various projects on a contract basis. When one ends, there are always more in the wings. We get to Hawaii about every other year. We have been to  Italy twice, cruised the Mediterranean  (twice) and cruised the Mexican Riviera. We love to go to Spring Training in Scottsdale and meet some S.F. Giants every year, fly to Vegas or drive to Tahoe or Reno,  and all that kind of stuff. Before meeting Linda, I had been to England, Ireland and Scotland. Made several trips to Mexico, Cancun, Guaymas, Baja, Acapulco and some other places.  I did a cruise up the inland passage to Alaska many years ago.

I mostly do just the court filing now. It's a great daily part-time job that gives me something to do. I still do work for Greg Stutchman and have also been doing occasional investigative work for the Napa County Public Defender's office. So, just enough work to keep me out of trouble. Linda and I are looking for a smaller place as this house is getting a little big for us. We have plans for Hawaii again this year and plans to travel even more in the years to come.  Australia is on our "bucket list". 

I have been to some great places over the years, however, there is still no place like the Napa Valley.  For climate, convenience and comfort, there is no place like home. I moved here on a whim and have never regreted that decision. 

That's a brief synopsis of my life. Not too exciting but not too boring either.

I will always attribute, to a great degree, whatever successes I had or have yet to accomplish to my years at St. Mary's. Even if I was not known for practicing discipline, I eventually  understood what it meant and that served me very well all these days.

Thank you St. Mary's, faculty, administrative staff and fellow students, for helping me become what I am today.

Jim

Pictures:  Linda and I with Family for our  5th Anniversary in 2009 

 My daughter Jennifer and her family

 My son James and his family

 Linda and I in a quiet moment....(Brian comment:  not a bad selfie, JIm!)

We had a great weekend and it appears I have sufficiently pushed Brother Michael Avila into revealing his story! -- UPDATED

Brian,

See what you have unleashed!  I began this story because you and my other classmates shamed me into it.  But somehow, it got away from me and turned itself into an epic, perhaps too large to put into our class blog.  Nevertheless, I’ve done my part and I’ve washed my hands of it.  The ball is in your court and you are free to do whatever you deem best with it -- even hit the “delete” key. 

Thank you once again for your kind persistence and to those of our classmates who opted to share their lives with the rest of us.  So, let me begin my tale with a quote from Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, which I believe best captures for me the era we grew up in and experienced together. 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

                                                                                                            - Charles Dickens                                                                               

My story begins on the worst of days, Friday, November 22, 1963, the day that President Kennedy was assassinated and the world was reeling in the shock and horror of disbelief. That was the day that I had arranged with Brother Timothy Edwards to be driven after school, to the Christian Brothers’ novitiate at Mont La Salle in Napa for a weekend visit.  As we drove up to the monastery at the top of Redwood Road, little did I realize the countless times I was destined to drive up and down that winding, tree-lined road in the course of the next 50 years.

On Sunday, early in July 1964, I packed my belongings into two suitcases and was driven by a three car family escort to Mont La Salle to enter the Christian Brothers’ Novitiate as a postulant.  Once there, I met the other 14 high school candidates, including Michael Oborne and Bill Macaskill from our graduating class.  Since I never received the much prayed for “sign” from God, I decided to take matters into my own hands and prove that I didn’t have a vocation so that no matter what happened to me later in life, I would never be able to say: “I should have been a Brother!” 

Truth be told, it didn’t take me long to realize that I had made a terrible mistake.  I didn’t unpack for two weeks because I was convinced I was returning home.  I had unwittingly entered into a monastic environment wherein every second of the day was governed by the ringing of a bell.  I desperately missed my friends back home, the late nights and the continuous weekend parties.   One night, I planned my escape; I slipped out of my bedroom and down to the novice director’s office with the intention of calling home.  As I stood there in the dark, I was confronted with a problem.  I realized that if I pressed any of the buttons on the phone to get an outside line, every phone in the novitiate, juniorate and the retired Brothers’ communities (the entire Mont La Salle complex) would light up - - including the phone in the novice director’s bedroom. After much thought, I chickened-out, returned to my bedroom fully determined to seek the assistance of an older novice the following day.    

I vividly recall the moment, not long after our arrival, when Michael Oborne approached me, to tell me he had decided to leave the novitiate.  I couldn’t believe how sure he was of himself and wondered what divine revelation he had received and that I missed?  I was the one who was supposed to be leaving!  But my opportunity finally arrived about a year into the formation program.  By then, I was fed up with everything, the schedule, the 5:20 AM rising, the incessant ringing of bells summoning us to prayer and various exercises throughout the day.  I had had it, I had reached my limit, I just wanted out! 

The novice Director, Brother Paul Figueroa, could see that I was unhappy.  He asked me if I wanted the day off, or if I wanted to take the car for a spin.  I was adamant; the only thing I wanted was to go home.  He took me to his office, presented me with that annoying phone and told me to call home.  I remember my mom responding, “Why not wait until the weekend?” to which I replied, “Now!”  Furthermore, I was fully expecting Brother Paul to tell me that by leaving, I was invalidating the canonical year of novitiate and would not be allowed to return.  He never said a word.  Had he done so, I would have had a different tale to tell. 

I remember the relief I felt as I drove down Redwood Road and away from Mont La Salle.  I had given it my best shot and I felt free at last!  I stayed away for about a week, went out on a date and looked up some of my old friends only to discover that what Thomas Wolfe had written was true: “You can’t go home again.”  All of my friends were engaged and working full time, or like my two brothers, had gone off to the war.  The life I had known as an innocent high school student had vanished forever. 

I returned to Mont La Salle and picked up where I left off.  The schedule was no longer a nuisance and I was forever grateful that Brother Paul had the wisdom and insight to give me the space I needed to work things out for myself.   When I questioned him about why he had allowed me leave, or what would have happened if I had stayed away longer, he simply remarked, “Whatever is good for you.” Eventually, Brother Paul became a trusted friend, mentor and revered spiritual father whom I mourned deeply when he passed to his eternal reward in 1983.  

In January of 1965, I set aside the clothing of a postulant, and Brother Timothy Edwards, my robing sponsor, helped me don the grab of a Christian Brother.  At the robing ceremony, as I knelt before our Brother Provincial, I received a crucifix, a New Testament, a six decade rosary, the Rule of the Christian Brothers and it was announced that henceforth, I would be known in religion (and the “world”) as Brother Justin Lawrens  (after Vatican II, we were allowed to return to our baptismal names). Of the 15 candidates that entered in July of 1964, only six remained to commence the year of novitiate.

In January of 1966, I completed the novitiate, pronounced “First Vows” and along with my companions assigned to Saint Mary’s College to begin our undergraduate studies as Student Brothers or “scholastics”.  At the time, there were two houses of formation on campus comprised of nearly 60 Student Brothers.  St. Mary's College opened up new vistas and a whole new world of learning for me. I became enthralled with our World Classics Seminar Program (earning a Masters’ degree from St. John’s College in 1976) and fell hopelessly in love with the Greek Classics, particularly the Dialogues of Plato and the person of Socrates whom I have tried to emulate throughout my teaching career.  I loved the intellectual life and the new friendships I made among the other Student Brothers. We bonded as a band of brothers and I was proud to belong to this extraordinary group of men.  

On December 12, 1969, I bid farewell to my fellow scholastics as well as my Director and mentor, Brother Edmund Dolan, and reported to my first teaching assignment at De La Salle High School in Concord.  These were without question the most difficult years of my teaching career.  I was so inexperienced, the Vietnam War was in full swing, and protests were raging everywhere and impacting the comportment of our students.  I found the students unruly and difficult to discipline -- nothing like the students we had been at St. Mary’s High School.  I often began each morning wondering how I would make it through the day.  Fortunately, I wasn’t alone.  I lived in a community of Brothers that proved to be both a blessing and a shield from the chaos that was raging around us and throughout our schools. 

After four and a half years at De La Salle High School, I accepted the invitation from our Brothers in Mexico to teach there.  Mexico proved to be a lifesaver and renewed my flagging spirit.  The students in Mexico were so much more civilized, respectful and grateful to have an American Brother teaching them English.  I stayed there for two years, requesting a third year with a view to transferring provinces and spending the rest of my life in Mexico.  But the new Provincial saw where I was heading with this and requested that I return to California under my vow of obedience.  Leaving Mexico in 1977 weighed heavily upon me (as did that vow of obedience!).  I was leaving behind so many of my Brothers, colleagues, friends and students whom I had come to love and cherish.  One of those students claims I was his inspiration for joining the Brothers.

I was assigned to Sacred Heart High School in San Francisco, my hometown, and the following year to St. Mary’s Grammar School (which by then had been transferred from Berkeley to Mont La Salle in Napa). I was particularly enamored by this assignment because besides teaching, I was the prefect of boarders and having been a boarder myself, I identified so much with them and their life experiences. 

Not long after this, I was permitted to continue my graduate studies earning a second masters’ degree and doctorate in Formative Spirituality from Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, PA.  For the past 29 years, I have been assigned to Saint Mary’s College teaching a variety of subjects such as Spanish, Collegiate Seminar (at the undergraduate and graduate levels), Formative Spirituality and, for 26 years, I directed the January Term Christian Service Internship Program where over 800 students were sent across the nation and to 16 countries around the world to work with the underserved. Their lives were profoundly transformed by these opportunities and I felt so privileged to help them process their experiences when they returned.  I called it “holy ground”.  I also served for 9 years as a Co-Director for the Maryknoll Cross-Cultural Training Services for interested missionaries, and as a group facilitator at the School of Applied Theology in Berkeley - - not too shabby for a quiet and retiring Latino boy who felt too insecure to join a club while in high school. 

I could add more to this list, but truth be told, like St. Paul, I consider these titles and positions of little worth compared to the relationship I have developed with my students and the awe I feel at what God has wrought within me and through me.  I owe so much of who I am and what I have become to God and to the Brothers who have instructed and nurtured me throughout my career (from the 5^th grade), and upon whose shoulders I stand.  Furthermore, I often find myself reflecting on our Founder, St. John Baptist de La Salle, who at the end of his life wrote: “If I had known in the beginning what I was getting myself into, I would never have started the Congregation.  But God, who does not force men’s wills led me step by step to take the direction of the schools.”  Had he not taken those first steps, St. Mary’s High School would not exist nor would we be meeting for our 50^th anniversary. 

Like our Founder, I also claim to have been led mysteriously, step by step against my natural inclinations, and if I had known in the beginning, what I was getting myself into, I can assure you that I, like the prophet Jonah, would have fled as far away as possible from the Lord.  But then I find myself asking: What would have happened to the countless students whose hearts were touched and whose lives were so radically altered because I was there for them as a teacher and a Brother?  And what would have happened to those students hell bent on ending their lives, who in their last moment of anguish and despair sought my counsel?  I stand humbled by their confidence and trust in me and I find that being a Brother has given me entrée into countless lives and many worlds I never dreamed existed.  It has allowed me to see and experience the light and shadow side of life, as well as the good and seamy side of the world of academe.  I was delivered from my inability to speak and given the words I needed to speak truth to power in a way that I would have considered inconceivable had I a mortgage to pay, or a family to protect, as most of my classmates.

                                                                                                                         

Fifty years have elapsed since we parted company and I went to Mont La Salle to wrestle with God and to prove to myself that I didn’t have a vocation.  We no longer wrestle as much as we used to do in my youth.  We’ve grown old together and treat each other much more gently - - but we still banter.  Nevertheless, like the prophet Jeremiah, I still maintain that I was duped, but it’s also true (as he said), that I allowed myself to be duped.  Besides, even if I wanted to wrestle or run from Him, I no longer have the strength to do so.  But one never knows... Perhaps in years to come, you may hear it said of me that in some inspired quixotic moment, a disheveled and demented Brother Michael slipped from the Brothers’ retirement home, under the cover of darkness and down Redwood Road in one last insane attempt to once again subvert his destiny. . . or perhaps… to finally fulfill a secret, unspoken dream harbored in the recesses of his heart, to take a lover in Mallorca and live on the outskirts of contemporary morality (as a novelist once wrote). 

As age continues weigh me down, I find myself echoing the sentiments of Carl Jung toward the end of his life:  “I am satisfied with the course my life has taken.  It has been bountiful, and has given me a great deal.  How could I ever have expected so much? Nothing but unexpected things kept happening to me.  Much might have been different if I myself had been different.  But it was as it had to be; for all came about because I am as I am.” 

 As a child, I was always fascinated with the Spanish galleons of old that roamed the world freely in search of treasures and adventure.  As I think of our class, I have this image of a great armada comprised of 131 ships that set sail 50 years ago to explore and conquer the world.  And what made each of our ships so unique is that we were being built even as we sailed -- not when we were in port.  Each time we returned to port to celebrate our anniversaries, we arrived fewer in number and a bit more tattered and battered by our explorations and experiences.  But we have been on amazing journeys and we’ve returned to port each time, overflowing with the precious cargo of our lives, after numerous discoveries, storms, and exotic destinations, to tell our stories and share the wealth of our lives.  Some of our companions are not in port this evening because of unavoidable commitments, while others are still lost at sea trying to find their way back home.  Eventually, each one of us will sink into the sea of God as those of our beloved classmates and friends who have gone before us, leaving their treasures for others to find. 

As to the future, “I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence:  Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”  - Robert Frost

It has been such a privilege and a blessing to be part of our class in that “best of times and worst of times” when, “we had everything before us, and nothing before us, when we were all going direct to heaven, or all going direct the other way.”  Thanks for the memories, and be assured that each of you (and your families) continue to be in my heart and prayers.   Let us continue to grow old together for we have been promised that the best is yet to come.

God bless each of you.

Brother Michael Ávila, F.S.C.

Class of 1964

Graduation Mass and The Class of 1964 Reception - what a lot of fun!

We had our 2014 and 1964 Graduation Mass, Class of 1964 Reception and a lot of frivolity and friendship. Table after table was filled with great memories, friendships and "remember when"....Here are the tables.... Great people sit in these seats! It was also a joy to see two of our former teachers, Hugh Lauderback and Tom Brady, address our class ...and they still are teaching us the St Mary's Way. Great teachers! Great men!   Remember that ALL the Grad event piuctures are on the Smugmug site http://bmoyernh.smugmug.com/SMCHS64Grads/n-5KFnv/    Visit the site and see a great Class.

Hey Grads...Played golf with Phil Wanlin yesterday and he sent in his 50 year story!

Phil and I drove in the same golf cart yesterday and what a great time we had bot in golf and just talking about old times....  Here is his story!

Here is a quick snapshot of my past 50 years. After leaving S.M. I skipped my dream of traveling the United States for a year or two and  instead attended Contra Costa College to avoid the military draft. While there I played football and baseball, which led to a scholarship to the University of San Francisco. 

Again, I played two sports and after my senior year tried out unsuccessfully as a quarterback for the Cleveland Browns. I married during my junior year at U.S.F. and became the only parent on the team during my senior year at the age of 21. I went back to U.S.F. as a student assistant for the football team and graduated in 1969. The next year I took a teaching and coaching job at Salesian High School in Richmond, CA and after seven enjoyable years and two more kids moved to a public high school in Albany. 

I made a decision to stick with teaching and coaching as a career and except for a serious on the field accident in 1991 which prematurely shortened my coaching tenure I completed 35 more years at Albany High teaching history, government, and economics and retired three years ago. I have been living in Hayward since 1993. I have five wonderful grand children including two identical twin girls who are seniors at the University of Tenn.

I remarried in 1983 to Deborah  and we are now both retired from teaching and enjoying life with our two Labradors in Hayward.

Phil Wanlin

Here are two  photos, one with me and Barkley and the other with my wife Debbie and our therapy dog Posey.

The Reunion Weekend is here! Come one...Come all .....to the encampment called Peralta Park!

Well...Everyone...Class of '64 Grads.....It is finally here....THE 50TH REUNION!!!

 We may have left the grounds of Peralta Park 50 years ago but I dare say the "earth" that we were planted in did not. It continued to nourish and to lead us to our paths ...whatever they were....where ever they were ....and with whom ever we cherished to be with on our individual journeys.

 Now we get to be together again and relive some of those early times as "children" ...really young "men" ....and we all thought we had it all "together" ...we had "Made It!"....and we did. All of us.

 Our stories in this Blog have been touching, enlightening, inspiring, tragic, and filled with elation....That my friends is "life" and we ...as a group....have lived great lives.... I am proud to be a St Mary's alum...and proud to be greeting all of you this weekend as my classmates and as 50 year (and some longer) friends.

 Come and be part of the crowd....in the shadow of a great University ...and really in the shadow and history of a great 150 year old High School......our Valedictorian and each one of you are about to address our Class.....see you all very soon: