Page 35 - The Gonzaga Record 1986
P. 35
for through that experience, as I wrote at the time of his death, one could
not help but feel closer to one's God.
Fr Willie White, Wally to the boys, was the Prefect of Studies. He
complemented Fr O'Conor ideally, for his strength was at the level of
personal contact rather than organisation or institutional development.
He sustained his fellow masters by his understanding and
encouragement. He has been a trusted and wise counsellor to generations
of his pupils and former pupils. It was his uncongenial task to dispense
corporal punishment which was inflicted for academic failure as well as
misconduct. I recall with undiminished distaste the sound of 'biffs'
resounding from his office through the building. The dread of being
visited with such a sanction added greatly to the anxiety of my life at the
school.
Fr Jack Hutchinson, known as 'Hutch', taught us Irish. The son of an
English father and an Irish mother he was a true 'northsider' and a
mighty nationalist. When we were drawn to play St Columba's in our first
Junior Rugby Cup, he told us that their supporters would be shouting
'Remember your Founders' from the sidelines. He may have found the
snobberies and pretensions of some of our own boys trying but he was
as kind to them as to those who saw the world his way. He suffered from
insomnia and exhibited many signs of stress which may have accounted
for his early death. He ran the Sodality. Sadly it is some of his more
prudish discourses I remember most. It was that time. But as a teacher
he was dedicated, sympathetic and unthreatening. It was always his fault,
never yours. And it was he who made me love the Irish language. I am
sure he would be pleased, and also surprised, to know that. By contrast
Fr Kavanagh, known as 'Frankie' made me dislike French. My accent and
pronunciation were awful and I felt he sneered at my efforts. He probably
thought that I was not doing my best. He was poor at controlling his
classes and there was a lot of disorder during them. This was a pity as
he was a considerable scholar in French and also a devotee of classical
music, a love for which he sought to inculcate in the boys. Fr Keane
taught us Greek and Latin. He was easygoing and did not cajole the
unwilling or reluctant. But if a pupil was keen on his subjects, as I was
in my closing years, he was a fine teacher with an inspiring love of the
antique world. Fr Stephen Redmond taught history. The blood sacrifice
of 1916 appealed greatly to him. He was a gentle person. But paradoxic-
ally my clearest memory of him is an occasion when he became enraged
by the inattention of some boys during the daily rosary which was said
after the morning break in what were then the new buildings at the
bottom of the school. I also remember meeting him near my home in
Merrion one afternoon either when I was near the end of my school days
or shortly after I had left. He told me how lucky I was to have such a
good home and that I should thank God for my good fortune. I don't
think the thought had ever occurred to me before that. But I never forgot
it.
33
not help but feel closer to one's God.
Fr Willie White, Wally to the boys, was the Prefect of Studies. He
complemented Fr O'Conor ideally, for his strength was at the level of
personal contact rather than organisation or institutional development.
He sustained his fellow masters by his understanding and
encouragement. He has been a trusted and wise counsellor to generations
of his pupils and former pupils. It was his uncongenial task to dispense
corporal punishment which was inflicted for academic failure as well as
misconduct. I recall with undiminished distaste the sound of 'biffs'
resounding from his office through the building. The dread of being
visited with such a sanction added greatly to the anxiety of my life at the
school.
Fr Jack Hutchinson, known as 'Hutch', taught us Irish. The son of an
English father and an Irish mother he was a true 'northsider' and a
mighty nationalist. When we were drawn to play St Columba's in our first
Junior Rugby Cup, he told us that their supporters would be shouting
'Remember your Founders' from the sidelines. He may have found the
snobberies and pretensions of some of our own boys trying but he was
as kind to them as to those who saw the world his way. He suffered from
insomnia and exhibited many signs of stress which may have accounted
for his early death. He ran the Sodality. Sadly it is some of his more
prudish discourses I remember most. It was that time. But as a teacher
he was dedicated, sympathetic and unthreatening. It was always his fault,
never yours. And it was he who made me love the Irish language. I am
sure he would be pleased, and also surprised, to know that. By contrast
Fr Kavanagh, known as 'Frankie' made me dislike French. My accent and
pronunciation were awful and I felt he sneered at my efforts. He probably
thought that I was not doing my best. He was poor at controlling his
classes and there was a lot of disorder during them. This was a pity as
he was a considerable scholar in French and also a devotee of classical
music, a love for which he sought to inculcate in the boys. Fr Keane
taught us Greek and Latin. He was easygoing and did not cajole the
unwilling or reluctant. But if a pupil was keen on his subjects, as I was
in my closing years, he was a fine teacher with an inspiring love of the
antique world. Fr Stephen Redmond taught history. The blood sacrifice
of 1916 appealed greatly to him. He was a gentle person. But paradoxic-
ally my clearest memory of him is an occasion when he became enraged
by the inattention of some boys during the daily rosary which was said
after the morning break in what were then the new buildings at the
bottom of the school. I also remember meeting him near my home in
Merrion one afternoon either when I was near the end of my school days
or shortly after I had left. He told me how lucky I was to have such a
good home and that I should thank God for my good fortune. I don't
think the thought had ever occurred to me before that. But I never forgot
it.
33
