These days of living isolated in a pandemic make the days seem like today was yesterday. This is far different with our before-lunch school period at St. Edward’s High School in 1960. Our teacher was Brother Cyriac who did not know how to deal with an undisciplined class. We were so cruel that years later, in our 50th anniversary of our graduation in 1961 held in 2011, my buddy, Buddy (Lee) Lytton andI made sure we went to the nearby on campus Assumption Cemetery to pay our respects and to apologize for our cruelty at his tomb.
Brother Cyriac had been our floor prefect when in our 11th grade we were bunked four to a room. One day we put the two bunk beds one on top of each other (the Old Main had high ceilings). When Brother Cyriac entered our room he went crazy. On other days we dyed our hair blue or green. Such was our behaviour that he left the school probably to have a nervous breakdown.
But those before-lunch classes with him seemed to go
forever. Behind him the big clock seemed to not move. I began to understand what
hell was all about. We would laugh at him every time he used his special expression, "Stop all this hulaballoo." We had these tins that when turned over would make the sound of a cow or a cat. This drove him up the wall.
Now I wish I could make the clock stop and I look at this photograph of Brother Cyriac and again I feel so sorry in how I treated him. Perhaps by doing so I might spend a little less time in hell.