Page 51 - Gonzaga at 60
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GONZAGA AT SIXTY: A WORK IN PROGRESS
of the most engaging impromptu speakers I have ever heard. He remained in Gonzaga almost
unil his death; his presence added greatly to the joy of revisiing the school. In our day tennis
had not taken of as it later did under his tutelage so he was the cricket master. He had learned
his cricket at Clongowes, where, like Fr O’Conor, he had been at school. When I wrote a memoir
of my schooldays for the Gonzaga Record in 1986 staing that I had not been very happy at the
school, he conided to me that he had not been so happy at Clongowes, adding by way of gentle
rebuke that it would never have occurred to him to write about it.
Fr Stephen Redmond taught history. The blood sacriice of 1916 appealed greatly to him.
He was a gentle person. But paradoxically my clearest memory of him is an occasion when he
became enraged by the inatenion of some boys during the rosary, which was said daily ater the
morning break in what were then the new buildings near the garden. I also remember meeing
him near my home in Merrion one aternoon near the end of my schooldays. 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 that the thought had ever occurred to me before that. But I never forgot it. He is the
longest lived of those who taught our class. His presence, aged 90, at the dinner given by Fr Noel
Barber in 2008 to mark the 50th anniversary of our leaving made the occasion magical.
There were only two lay masters in my ime. Signor Volpi, a small trim friendly Roman had
been there from the foundaion and lent a cosmopolitan air. He taught drill and also tried to insil
some appreciaion of art into us. I sill remember him extolling in succulent tones the wonders Fr Joe Veale
of Leonardo and Michelangelo. He regaled his classes with amazing tales of his early life, but not
his role as a spy for Italy in warime Ireland.
Cathal O’Gara came later. He taught us mathemaics. He brought the relaxed ways of the
western countryside into our ‘jackeen’ lives. I shrivel yet when I recall the jests he had to endure,
including crude imitaions of his voice because he did not sound like a naive southsider. But he
took it all in good part.
Fr Joe Veale joined the staf at the beginning of my second year in September 1954. His
signiicance in the early history of Gonzaga cannot be overstated. As an English teacher he
inculcated in us a ine sense of the importance of good wriing. He founded the debaing society
(called An Chomhdhail as a gesture to the contemporary poliical correctness) and took charge
of the Senior VI post-matriculaion course, which was a much vaunted special feature of the
curriculum. His aricle ‘Men Speechless’ published in Studies in 1957 was the deiniive statement
of what Gonzaga was about. He had the indispensible git of a great teacher in that he inspired
pupils with enthusiasm for their work. He gave of himself wholly and was a dominaing inluence
on generaions of boys. But inevitably he had the faults of his virtues. His total commitment
someimes deprived him of the detachment that a person in authority must retain in relaion
to those under him. This was an emoional strain for him and caused problems when paricular
boys crossed swords with him, especially as the Jesuit training of the day did not condiion him
to accept dissent. Albeit that I could never overcome a feeling of shyness in his presence, he
became a wonderful friend in later life. But we did not have an easy relaionship at school. It was
GONZAGA AT SIXTY: A WORK IN PROGRESS
of the most engaging impromptu speakers I have ever heard. He remained in Gonzaga almost
unil his death; his presence added greatly to the joy of revisiing the school. In our day tennis
had not taken of as it later did under his tutelage so he was the cricket master. He had learned
his cricket at Clongowes, where, like Fr O’Conor, he had been at school. When I wrote a memoir
of my schooldays for the Gonzaga Record in 1986 staing that I had not been very happy at the
school, he conided to me that he had not been so happy at Clongowes, adding by way of gentle
rebuke that it would never have occurred to him to write about it.
Fr Stephen Redmond taught history. The blood sacriice of 1916 appealed greatly to him.
He was a gentle person. But paradoxically my clearest memory of him is an occasion when he
became enraged by the inatenion of some boys during the rosary, which was said daily ater the
morning break in what were then the new buildings near the garden. I also remember meeing
him near my home in Merrion one aternoon near the end of my schooldays. 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 that the thought had ever occurred to me before that. But I never forgot it. He is the
longest lived of those who taught our class. His presence, aged 90, at the dinner given by Fr Noel
Barber in 2008 to mark the 50th anniversary of our leaving made the occasion magical.
There were only two lay masters in my ime. Signor Volpi, a small trim friendly Roman had
been there from the foundaion and lent a cosmopolitan air. He taught drill and also tried to insil
some appreciaion of art into us. I sill remember him extolling in succulent tones the wonders Fr Joe Veale
of Leonardo and Michelangelo. He regaled his classes with amazing tales of his early life, but not
his role as a spy for Italy in warime Ireland.
Cathal O’Gara came later. He taught us mathemaics. He brought the relaxed ways of the
western countryside into our ‘jackeen’ lives. I shrivel yet when I recall the jests he had to endure,
including crude imitaions of his voice because he did not sound like a naive southsider. But he
took it all in good part.
Fr Joe Veale joined the staf at the beginning of my second year in September 1954. His
signiicance in the early history of Gonzaga cannot be overstated. As an English teacher he
inculcated in us a ine sense of the importance of good wriing. He founded the debaing society
(called An Chomhdhail as a gesture to the contemporary poliical correctness) and took charge
of the Senior VI post-matriculaion course, which was a much vaunted special feature of the
curriculum. His aricle ‘Men Speechless’ published in Studies in 1957 was the deiniive statement
of what Gonzaga was about. He had the indispensible git of a great teacher in that he inspired
pupils with enthusiasm for their work. He gave of himself wholly and was a dominaing inluence
on generaions of boys. But inevitably he had the faults of his virtues. His total commitment
someimes deprived him of the detachment that a person in authority must retain in relaion
to those under him. This was an emoional strain for him and caused problems when paricular
boys crossed swords with him, especially as the Jesuit training of the day did not condiion him
to accept dissent. Albeit that I could never overcome a feeling of shyness in his presence, he
became a wonderful friend in later life. But we did not have an easy relaionship at school. It was
