03/01/08, 05/24/20 |
St. Patrick's School |
S A I N T P A T R I C K ' S G R A M M A R S C H O O L S A I N T P A T R I C K ' S G R A M A M A R S C H O O L |
St. Patrick’s was said to have been built in 1940. (The first class graduated on June 22, 1951. I was about 2 months old.) The school was close to St. Patrick’s Church and the rectory. The steeple of St. Patrick’s Church burned down in 1932 so the one we saw while at school was not the original. Grades 3-12, later 3-8, were located in plots 3-8 on Prince Street which is also listed as 406 Custom House Street. St. Patrick’s is listed as 416 Custom House St. (Both numbers are postal since those are not the plot numbers.) I attended St. Patrick’s School while living on Queen Cross Street and continued to do so when I moved to the housing project. I began my trek at St. Patrick’s in September 1956 at the young tender age of 5. I remember being teased because I looked younger than 5. In most cases, I may have younger than the other students who because of their date of birth had to start Kindergarten later than usual. Kindergarten was on Prince St. not far from Hill St. and close to the old convent. Grades 1A, 1B and 2 were close to St. Gerard’s Hall and Grades 8-12 were across the street. Grades 8-12 were in a two-story building. For most of the years at St. Patrick’s nuns taught us. We had some lay teachers in first and second grade. My sister Min was a teacher’s aide for a short time. Later on more lay teachers would be added as the nuns began to retire. Since not too many women were joining the order, replacing the nuns that left with other nuns was impossible. I walked to school daily. The nuns were dressed in a black and white habit. I think they were of the Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Heart (I.C.M) order. The only things visible were their faces and hands. Eventually, they were allowed to modify their habit and expose more flesh. [Update, May 2008 - The nun teaching Kindergarten may have been Sister Mary Carlos.] The habit the nuns wore made them look sinister. The veil was black and the rest of the habit was white and it almost touched the ground. A rosary was worn around the waist and hung to the side. These nuns believed in discipline and at no time were afraid to reprimand us, twist our ears, or spank us. The spanking would be done with a belt or ruler. In later years tacks were added to the tip of the same belts to make the punishment more painful and in the nuns’ eyes more effective. For a while, the nuns were called Mother and with the change in the habits came a change in name. They were to be called Sisters, which someone must have felt was more appropriate. I suppose we all have basically one mother but can have more than one sister. Every morning we had to go to mass. After mass we assembled in the back yard/ playground upon hearing the bell beckon us. We formed groups by grade and in rows almost in the same order, as we would be sitting in class. The respective teacher would be standing at the head of every group. We’d then march in by class. I can’t remember if it was in ascending or descending order, by grade, floor or by location of classroom. There is not too much I can remember of Kindergarten. I remember it being on the north side of the convent on Prince Street. I remember that there was a wall around the school and there was a gate. There were a few large flamboyant trees inside the yard. There were large tiles on the ground that created a walkway for us. To the left of the walkway and before getting to the classroom there was an outhouse. I remember we had to raise our hands in order to be able to use the outhouse. There were two first grades, A and B. It was said that the smarter and better students were in A. I was in 1A. Was 1B the beginning of Special Education?? I remember Miss Iris López being my teacher. [Update, May 2008 - The nun in first grade may have been Sister Mary Alida.] In first or second grade, I was given a note to take home. The nun wanted to know my last name. I knew I couldn’t give it to Ma so I gave it to my brother, who is 3 years older. He wrote something on it and the next day, I took it to the nun. She was shocked. My brother wrote that my last name was “Wash The Clothes”. I suppose he was being funny and since Ma washed clothes for neighbors he decided to use that. I remember the nun asking me who wrote the name on the note but I cannot remember if Paco was called or what happened. We still get a good laugh when we recall this incident. (What strikes me as odd now is that we were all in St. Pat’s so why would the nun need my last name? They already knew my family. Did the teacher want to test my knowledge?) One of the things I can remember learning in Catechism classes (religious instructions) was the different levels of the afterlife – Limbo, Purgatory, Hell and Heaven. Limbo was for those children who died before they were baptized. It was assumed that not being baptized was no fault of their own. I think it was said that after serving time in Limbo, these children would then go to Heaven. (At the same time we were learning about a dance known as limbo.) People who committed minor offenses and died without confessing or asking for forgiveness were sent to Purgatory. If I am not mistaken, we were told that Purgatory was a temporary location. I cannot remember what one had to do to move from Purgatory to Heaven. I suppose after serving ones “sentence” one would go to Heaven? Hell was for those who committed mortal sins. Eating meat during Lent was a mortal sin. We were to abstain from eating meat during Lent. Later it would be changed to just the Fridays during Lent and Ash Wednesday. The elderly, and individuals who were ill, were excluded from these rules. Killing someone was a mortal sin. An accumulation of minor sins (called venial sins) could later become a mortal sin if one did not confess the small offenses. Heaven was for those who lived sinless and for those who confessed and asking for forgiveness before dying. After hearing these explanations, we became scared that most of us tried to walk a straight line. These explanations were enough to drive any sane person mad! I remember one day during Lent we had to fast. Was that Good Friday? We’d go to church with only a glass of water in our stomachs and then have to sit through a High Mass, which was about 3 hours long since the Stations of the Cross were part of the service. I would leave the church feeling dizzy and hungry. The incense that was used during the mass made the situation even worse! Weekly, we had to go to confession. It became such a burdensome ritual that we made up sins just to have something to tell the priest. A cousin that was in the same grade would ask other students what they confessed in order to get an idea of what he would tell the priest. As kids, there was no way we could have committed that many sins that made it necessary for us to confess so often! [Ma tells me that my cousin, Felipe Quiñones’ grandmother was my father’s aunt.] In the first grade, I celebrated my First Communion. My records show it was celebrated on May 25, 1958. The same document shows I was baptized on September 23, 1951 by Reverend John V. Caskey, C.SS.R. My sponsors (godparents) were Don Carmelo Belardo (my aunt Titi Paca’s husband) and Doña Guillermina Nieves (one of my aunts, Titi Guilla). I was 5 months old! In the third grade, I celebrated my Confirmation. The date was March 27, 1960. The ceremony was performed by Most Reverend James Peter Davis. My sponsor was someone by the name of Terence Martin and the Confirmation name I used was John. (Why did I always think the confirmation name I used was Anthony? I remember the sponsor placing his arm on my shoulder.) Third grade is a blur. [Update, May 2008 - The nun that taught us may have been Sister Mary Clarisse.] In fourth grade, we had Sister Gonzales (I have also seen her same spelled as Gonzalez). She was also the teacher responsible for teaching us art. We basically took unpainted chalk-like statues (plaster of Paris) and were instructed what colors to use on the arms, face, garment, etc. We did a good job turning the white plaster into a colorful statue! What became of the statues we painted I do not know. Sister Gonzales was short and to get a better view of the class her desk was on a high platform. A similar platform was used in some of the other classes. I think I was in the fourth grade when I was appointed King of Hearts. What is that? I had to dress up like a fool, tied down to a chair that was bolted to the bed of a truck and paraded down King Street waving at all the onlookers. Every St. Patrick’s Day, March 17th, the school had a parade down King Street. The parade started close to what we called Peter Christian’s Corner. Every year someone would be appointed King of Hearts. Who was the Queen? I cannot remember. I think the Queen could have been Graciela Cabret and I imagine she was as scared as I was. The parade usually started by Peter Christian’s corner. Why Peter Christian’s Corner? Mr. Peter Christian owned the building and store on the corner of Prince and Fisher Streets. When we had to meet someone in the area, instead of giving the name of the streets, Fisher going east to west and Prince going north to south, we would say that we would meet at Peter Christian’s Corner. The man did not own the corner! [The building had a porch to the south west corner, closer to Prince St., that was eventually closed in to be used as various businesses. The apartments that are in the back of the yard were not there when we used the corner, nor were the ones overlooking Prince St. During my years in St. Joe’s, we used the corner to wait for the bus.] In fifth grade (1961-62), we had one of the greatest individuals as a teacher. Her name was Sister (Mary) Ingrid. She was young, vibrant, down to earth, full of life, very strict but fair. How many times did I see her roll up her habit and ride bikes with us? How many times did I see her eat a mango she got from one of the students? Mind you, these were things that the nuns were not allowed to do!! And Sister Ingrid had a body on her that made heads turn. The habit she wore was fitted to her slim body. She knew how to make the habit whisper as she moved. She glided in the habit. Sister Ingrid later left St. Croix and at a later date I was told she left the convent. [Recently, I was told that she had passed away. May she rest in peace! She apparently had left the convent and gotten married. I am sorry for not being able to thank her for all the things she did for me as my teacher and for allowing me so see the human side of nuns.] A young handsome priest began working in St. Patrick’s Church at about the same time that Sister Ingrid appeared at St. Patrick’s School. The priest was very athletic and he, like Sister Ingrid, joined us in “earthly” activities. It was rumored that he was sleeping with every available woman in the Frederiksted parish. I doubted it very much. I do not think all the rumors we heard about the nuns/priests were true. Eventually this priest disappeared. Did he go to one of the other parishes in the U.S. Virgin Islands or was he sent to another island? Why was he transferred? I never found out. [Update, May 2008 - Could this young priest have been Father Chessman?] In sixth grade (1962-63) we had Sister Robertine. She was the one in charge of the cafeteria. Daily, a student was assigned to get a head count of how many students would be eating at the cafeteria for that day. That meant going from classroom to classroom. It gave the assigned student a chance to see the other classes and to escape from the room on the 2nd floor for a few minutes. In making the rounds, I got to see my other siblings and friends. We all vied to be picked for the assignment. I happen to do this chore often since I was sort of a teacher's pet in most of my classes. After the totals from each class were annotated, Sister Robertine would tally it up and count chips. Yeah, chips like those used in casinos. These chips were given to each class and each student using the cafeteria that day was given a chip. No student was allowed to enter the cafeteria without a chip. The other good thing about being in the sixth grade was that we were the first to go to the cafeteria since Sister Robertine had to collect her chips and keep track of the students who came and went. It was said that the more students who used the cafeteria the more assistance the school received from the federal government so we were urged to eat in the cafeteria. Most of what was cooked in the cafeteria came in cans from the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The cafeteria was the back part of St. Gerard’s Hall. The front part was used as an auditorium. To get into the cafeteria we had to use a back entrance, though there were doors connecting both portions. During some functions both portions were used. The food in the cafeteria was mostly delicious. Not too many people would have the courage to say so! But some days the food was not even good enough for hogs. From time to time the “fungi” (pronounced foon-gee, cornmeal) came out raw. The green beans were the size of a man’s fingers and always tasted raw. The peanut butter was so thick that it stuck to ones upper palate or in ones throat. The powdered milk that was prepared for us to drink was incredibly bad. The trays our food was served in were divided into various compartments. There were various pots around the cafeteria with plants. By the end of the school year most plants died. Students emptied their glasses of milk into the pots and it looks as if the plants did not like the milk either. Eventually the pots were moved further away from the tables. Those sitting by the northern wall would discard their food through the holes in the wall. I came up with a neat idea. I would drink the milk for the other students in exchange for something that I liked off their tray or they would have to take something I didn’t like off my tray. It could be delicious chicken (some students said the white meat was snake meat), rice, dessert or whatever I wanted. Keep in mind that we were not allowed to leave the cafeteria until our trays were empty! Sister Robertine would tell us that they only served us nutritious food and that eating it would make us healthy and strong. How come I never saw her eating it? By the way since I was always being friendly with most of the cooks I was always served more than the others and was able to avoid getting too much of things I didn’t like. [Could drinking all this milk eventually affect me? My body now cannot tolerate milk.] On one of those occasions that the food was not edible, I remember staying in the cafeteria a long time. My age or grade I cannot remember. I do remember that they served the string beans that had a cut that made them look more like logs than vegetables. Damn things were big! At some point during my ordeal, I was approached by Lillian who asked me what I was still doing in the cafeteria. I explained my dilemma to her. She told me to follow her. I did. The nun at the door didn’t say a word to us as I walked out with food still on my tray. I think they were scared of Lee. I headed to the garbage cans that were outside the cafeteria and dumped what I had from my tray. Nothing was ever said to me about the incident. One day Sister Robertine had taken a day off. A substitute nun was sent in. I cannot remember her name. The class was its normal self, noisy and rude. The nun tried to take control of the class. She couldn’t. Students were talking, running all over the place. She began to cry. The tears ran down her face. She began to pray. We never saw her again. Could we have caused her to retire? Maybe she was transferred to St. Mary’s or a non-teaching position. Jimmie (this is not his real name) was in the 6th grade with me. What a character! Sister Robertine had a fish bowl on her desk with a goldfish. To get even for a beating he had received, Jimmie went up to sharpen his pencil. The pencil sharpener was next to the bowl. He took his time sharpening the pencil. With Sister Robertine watching us, Jimmie took the sharpened pencil and stabbed the goldfish and went back to his desk. By the end of the day, the fish was dead! Another time, Jimmie brought in a locust. Locust is a local fruit that has a hard brown shell with a sweet powdery flesh inside over large blackish seeds. Once the fruit is opened, it gives off an odd scent. Puerto Ricans call it mierda en cajeta or “shit in a box”. That will give you an idea of how bad it smells. However,the fruit tastes great! (Maybe the right term should be miel en cajeta or honey in a box?) To get it open one must hit it very hard. Jimmie could not get his locust opened so he decided to get the assistance of the class. He asked everyone sitting in his row to get up. He then placed the locust under the 2 by 4 that all the desks in the row were screwed into. He placed the locust close to where I was sitting since it was the middle of the row. Jimmie then told us to sit down. Crack! He came, collected his fruit and ran back to his desk. The room stunk. I began to laugh so Sister Robertine thought I was the guilty party. I said nothing. She saw Jimmie eating and went after him. He ran. Sister Robertine was talented with the belt. She wrapped the belt in her hand, swung it low and pulled. She got Jimmie by his ankle and he fell forward. This could have been the beating that caused Jimmie to kill the goldfish. Nuns were not scared of using the belt to discipline us. Usually, we had to stretch our arm to them with the open palm facing up. They would then hit us a few times on the palm. Each offense carried a given number of strikes by the belt. The worse offenses carried the most. Some students pulled their hand back causing the nun to get hit with the belt on their leg. With the force they used to swing the belt, we knew it caused them a lot of pain. Pulling ones hand back was a big mistake. This would mean that 5 strikes would now be 10. Jimmie was one that didn’t mind pulling his hand back. I think he got a kick out of knowing that as he pained so did the nun. At one point in my schooling, I learned to make various objects by folding a handkerchief in various ways. The designs the students liked most were the hammock and the brassier (looked more like tits). One day we were on our lunch break when I began making the designs. I made a brassier. Sister Ingrid was walking across the street towards St. Gerard’s Hall, where we were sitting. Jimmie grabbed the handkerchief from me and put it up against his chest and showed Sister Ingrid. Why did he do that? She grabbed the hankie from his hands and scolded him. He told her that he had not made it. She told him she was not interested in knowing who made it since he was caught wearing it. That afternoon he had to stay after class. I think after sixth grade Jimmie was transferred to a public school, Claude O’Markoe. At a given point Felipe Quiñones was also transferred to another school. (Felipe was quite a character. He enjoyed teasing the girls and played many tricks on them.) At #10 Strand Street, between Hill and Market Streets, there was a store we called the Hobby Shop. What the real name was I can’t remember. The owner sold all sorts of toys, train sets, costumes, etc. We hung out in the store to admire and play with the train set the owner had mounted in the middle of the store. It was a beautiful operational set. One year the Hobby Shop began to sell what was known as Skunk Water. It came in a bottle that looked a lot like Chanel No. 5, but did not come close to the fragrance. Skunk Water stunk!! It smelled like water from a sewer or worse. One student bought a bottle, brought it to school and was playing with it while we waited on line to get into the lunchroom. He sprinkled some on a female classmate and she began to scream. I started laughing uncontrollably. Why did I always find everything funny? Sister Robertine came down to see what was going on. Since I was laughing, I got blamed. Are my ears this big because of all the pulling the nuns did? (No they’re not! Big ears run in the family.) Eventually the girl told the nun who had the bottle and he was punished. Sometime in 1962, the gutters on Prince St. must have been redone because I took it upon myself to write my name in the wet cement. In May 2003, I checked and though the writing is faint, it is still there. If you look closely on the west side of Prince a few yards from Queen Cross St. close to what was once the Evans’ residence, you may still see George R – 1962. [In recent years, the name has faded some more.] The seventh grade (1963-64) was weird. The nun we had was odd. I don’t know what it was but she just was not all there. A priest taught us religious instructions. He came in once a week did his lecture then left. The priest after a while began to get very friendly with the girls. He’d drop his hand around their shoulders in a friendly gesture but what he was really doing, in my opinion, was molesting the girls. He was letting his hand fall on their budding breasts. The girls eventually found out and began to move from one side of the seat to the next in order not to be close to the aisle the priest was walking down and thus avoid his caressing hand. The nun held a meeting and told the girls it was not polite for them to move in their seats to avoid the priest. Was the nun part of the plan or was she unaware of what the priest was doing? Did the priest tell her to lecture the girls? Even after the lecture the girls continued to move from side to side to avoid the priest. [Update, May 2008 - The nun was Sister Mary Willibald.] I think this was the same priest involved in an incident in the rectory. Let’s call him Father Bob. One morning before we headed for assembly, we noticed a police car in the yard. Rumors had it that Father Bob was awaken to say the next mass. Supposedly when the priest of the early mass tried to wake him he pulled out a gun and told the priest that he could do the second mass also! Father Bob disappeared from the parish and I think off the island! [Recently we have heard of various class actions taken against the church because priests have been accused of molesting children. Most of the accusers are now grown men. I think priests have been molesting children for a very long time. Who would have believed us in the 60s had we said that a priest had touched us in a provocative manner? Some priests have recently been arrested. Cardinals have resigned for not having gotten the police involved. Some priests were moved from parish to parish without letting the congregation in on their secret. In some cases, parents were given money by the church to keep quiet. Those affected are now speaking up. Should these children blame the priests or their parents? It’s been a very sad time for the Catholic Church. Would it benefit the church to allow priests to get married? It may be beneficial but it is a known fact that even married men are known to be pedophiles!] In the 7th grade, we were on the second floor of the school in the northwest corner. A second staircase had been built on the north side of the building that provided us a closer exit and made the building safer for all. In 7th grade, I remember a classmate that had gray hair. I think she was related to Miss Iris López, the first grade teacher. [Nilsa recently gave me her name, Gladys López.] In the 8th grade (1964-1965), we had Sister Alban and a lay teacher. The lay teacher was a character. I think her name was Ms. Noah. She always wore a dress known as a Moo-Moo. It was mostly a flowered print, loose, with elastic on the arms and/or neck. Ms. Noah had a habit of placing her pencil or pen in her hair for safekeeping. One day during assembly the pen or pencil fell. Ms. Noah bent over to pick it up and out came her tits. She had no brassiere on!! We chuckled. She grabbed her breasts put them back into her dress and straightened herself as if nothing had happened. The same lay teacher would detain some of us after class but instead of being punished, we were treated to cookies, hot chocolate, etc. The lay teacher would sometimes give me tests from the other students to grade for her. On one occasion, she gave me a ticket to see Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong at the Paul E. Joseph Stadium. It was a great show. As I reflect on what took place in the 8th grade, I must say that I think this teacher had a crush on some of her students. Or maybe she saw something in us that was worth saving and she attempted to keep us on the right track by detaining us and giving us worthwhile projects to do? I will never know. However, keep in mind that some students were punished by being told to clean the room, write a phrase over and over and were not treated to any of the goodies. Sister Alban’s favorite phrase was, “You may leave or you can go.” Either way, you had to leave! She would say this when one did something she did not approve of. When this was said, one had to go to the principal’s office. If one raised his/her hand and asked Sister Alban something like, “Can I go to the bathroom?”, she would respond by saying, “You can go but you may not.” I suppose she wanted to teach us that the correct question should have been “May I go to the bathroom?” We would then repeat the question, “May I go to the bathroom?” and she would tell us it was okay to go. Someone was always assigned to go to the 2nd floor and pull the rope to make the bell ring to let us know it was time to begin classes. One Friday the bell apparently had gotten stuck and no one noticed it or didn’t foresee what could happen. That weekend it rained. When we all assembled on Monday, we all looked up. The nuns and lay teachers were all standing in front of their respective class with their backs to the bell. They could not foresee what was about to happen so they did not turn around to see why we were looking up. The student in charge pulled the cord. It wouldn’t move. The student pulled again, this time harder. The bell began to turn. It was filled with water and the nun standing directly under it got soaked. We all laughed. Immediately, we were told to be quiet. Upon an investigation, the nuns realized that leaving the bell turned up was the cause of the problem. It never happened again. No one was punished. Then there was the female student that was almost asked to leave the school. She looked older than her age. It appears she matured early. One day on the way out of the girl’s bathroom her bag fell. The contents were spread across the floor and onto a nun’s feet. What was in her bag that almost got her thrown out? Condoms! The nun must have been asking herself, "Why would this child be carrying condoms?" Also in the 8th grade we had what we called the air freshener squad. I don’t know how this started. One day the lay teacher was at her desk when there was a stench in the class. Someone had farted. She called one of the male students to her desk, gave him a can of air freshener and told him to go around the room spraying each aisle. It was funny to see the classmate walking down each aisle with the can. Some of us thought it was the teacher who farted. Thereafter, the spraying became an every day occurrence. I think the principal’s name during my years at St. Patrick’s was Mother/Sister Constantina or Constantine. Home Economics classes (cooking, sewing, etc.) were taught in a building (possibly plot #68A) across from St. Patrick’s Church on Prince Street. In this building, the girls were taught various skills (sewing, cooking,etc.) that they would be able to use at home or later in life. No boys were allowed. (Unlike the other buildings on this side of the street, the Home Economics building was a concrete structure.) Close to St. Patrick’s is Lagoon Street, which only ran from the end of Prince St. to King St. was called Pond Bush, pronounced “Pan Bush”. I imagine it got it’s name because the area became a pond during the rainy season. Pond Bush is close to the gut I will next describe. Close to the buildings that housed the first and second grades was a gut. Between the gut and school grounds were a line of trees. I think the area was once called Harden Gut. It cut through James pasture and ended at the Caribbean Sea. (There may have been a gut around known as Tippett Grove Gut but during my youth we only referred to Harden Gut.) We used the area to catch land crabs. When it rained a lot, the gut filled up because it could not empty fast enough into the sea. When it was full of water, we would wade in the water. One Saturday two friends and I decided to go skinny-dipping. We assumed there would be no nuns in the area since it was Saturday. We looked around but saw no one. We took off our clothes, placed them in piles on the concrete walk by the bathrooms and then headed into the water. We had a great time. We were three nude kids enjoying nature. Then it was time to leave. Keep in mind that though we were allowed to roam freely throughout the town, we were expected home at a given time. The boys had more freedom than the girls but we still had a curfew. We headed for the pile of clothes but they were not in sight. We talked to each other. Who could be playing such a dumb trick on us? Why didn’t we see anyone? We must have had our backs to the classrooms. Before you knew it, our clothes appeared in a nun's hands. She lectured us about morality and health. We used our hands to cover our private parts but as the nun talked to us she had her eyes glued on our hands. These nuns surely knew how to make one feel guilty. I suppose after she was satisfied, she gave us our clothes; we got dressed and left never to do that again. We did laugh about the incident for a long time, though! [Today, the area is flat and the gut is not visible. The line of trees no longer exists. Part of this area is now being used as a sport field by St. Patrick’s School.] Close to the school was what we called James Pasture. I remember going there looking for crabs and/or fruits. There was a herd of cattle. I can’t remember if I teased the cow or I got too close to the calf but all of a sudden the cow charged at me. I ran. All of a sudden, I hit something and fell. The grass was high so I was no longer in the cow’s field of vision. I thought she would continue to charge and run over me. She never came. Eventually, I stood up and tried to determine what made me fall. I realized it was a dry lump of dung! I left the cow alone and headed out of the pasture. Before going to our classes and after school, we would hang out at the various candy stores on Prince and Market Streets. On Prince St. was a small grocery store owned by a Puerto Rican man, Don Maldonado. Archie’s candy store (#2 Prince St.) was across the street. On Market St. (#9 Prince) was a small hut-like building that also sold candies. The store was owned by Don Vice (Vicente). We went for such goodies as Squirrel Nut, Mary Jane, Jaw Breaker, and lindies (frozen fruit drink on a stick or in a cup). There were also the packs of sports cards, some of which came with gum. The gum was pink, rectangular in shape and sweet. Lots of the boys were into trading cards with each other. Also on Prince Street, but further away from the school, was Mr. Golden’s candy store. Everyone thought he was a dirty old man. This store was usually our first stop on our way to school, if we hadn’t stopped at Peter’s store or if Peter did not have what we wanted. Later on, we would also be shopping from Ms. Michael. She lived on Fisher St., not far from Hospital St., and there she sold candies, lindies, etc. [The area where Don Vicente had his store is now part of the Fritz E. Lawaetz Housing Complex. It is also called Lagoon Complex.] And then there were the yearly Thanksgiving Bazaar and raffles. The playground area of the school was setup with various booths. Some functions took place in St. Gerard’s Hall. The bazaar was very similar to a carnival but under the watchful eyes of the nuns. The nuns knew how to make money. There were many opportunities to win prizes since there were various games of chance. There was Bingo, wheel games,ring and ball throwing games, etc. The bazaars lasted for about four days beginning with Thanksgiving or the day before and ending the Sunday. The following Monday, we had to return to our studies. I think St. Paul’s also had something similar to the bazaars held at St. Patrick’s. The affairs at St. Paul’s were held at their center on King Cross St. Hill between Hospital and New St., not too far from the church. I cannot remember attending any of St. Paul’s affairs. It seemed like the nuns always needed money for something. We were always selling raffles for, or donating money to, the richest organization in the world. We competed with each other because we knew we would be made to feel guilty if we did not bring in money for the school/church. There were also prizes involved for the students who came in with the most cash. We also had bake sales where we had to supply the baked goods. To be fair, though, some times these sales of baked goods were to help us pay for a class trip. I can remember baking butter cookies for one such bake sale. The nuns also took us on pilgrimages. We would walk to the chapel out in Montpelier. There would be a mass then it was time for lunch and games. In later years we went to the caves at the bottom of the hill of the new convent that was built next to the cemetery. Some kids said that there was a trail in the caves that if followed would exit in Sandy Point. We did not have the courage to find out if there was such a trail. I suppose it was better to be safe than sorry! [The chapel was destroyed by a hurricane. A shrine was built in the area after the chapel was destroyed and in recent years a structure was built which appears to be used for services.] Though the nuns may have been a little heavy handed when it came to discipline, they were superb educators. We were given an education like no other. They did a great job in preparing us for the future. The nuns also taught us to respect books. They advised u s not to write in books nor bend the edges of the pages. To preserve the books, we were taught how to make book covers from brown paper bags. Protecting books meant they would be able to be passed along from one generation to the next in good condition. Some time during my years at St. Patrick’s Paco was transferred to Claude O’Markoe School and Lee was sent to live with Titi Feli in California. Where were you when President John F. Kennedy (May 29, 1917 to November 22, 1963) was assassinated? I was in school. Boy did we pray a lot for his recovery and later his soul! The Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, 1962-1965, changed a lot in the church. The Council was recognized by the Roman Catholic Church as the supreme authority. I think this Council allowed the nuns to change their way of dress, changed the rules about Lent, etc. What I would like to know was what happened to the people who had eaten meat during Lent based on the prior rules and had supposedly gone to hell? Were they now absolved of all their sins based on the new rules? My questioning made me begin to lose faith in the Catholic Church. I realized that those in charge were humans and thus could make errors. I realized that their interpretation of what was considered good and evil was as good as mine. [In the 90s, the Pope gave the Irish Catholics a dispensation of not being able to eat meat on Good Friday because St. Patrick’s Day, March 17th, fell on a Good Friday. What nonsense was this? What bigger sacrifice could have been made than avoiding Corn Beef and Cabbage, the Irish typical meal, on a Good Friday? Couldn’t they have eaten it on a Saturday instead? The Irish had their parade down Fifth Avenue in New York City on a Good Friday while everyone else willingly adhered to the rules of Good Friday.] The grades I did not mention are just a blur in my mind. It appears nothing impressionable happened in those grades. St. Patrick’s eventually became a grammar school only and grades 9-12 were moved to the center of the island. The new high school would be named St. Joseph’s. By the way, the uniform worn in St. Patrick’s was a white blouse and green skirt for the girls and a white shirt, khaki pants for the boys with a green tie to match the girl’s skirts. If I can remember right, the boys wore black loafers and the girls wore black or white and black shoes (Were the black and white shoes called saddle shoes?). I think the girls also wore a tie. On special occasions, the girls had to wear a green vest as part of the uniform. The good thing about going to a Catholic school was that not only did we have off local and federal holidays, but we also celebrated many religious holidays. If a religious dignitary visited the island, we were given an additional day off or the school day was cut short. I don’t know how we were able to attend classes for the required 180 days between September and June with so many holidays. Keep in mind that we were also off if it rained a lot and since September through November were still part of the hurricane season that happened often. (The rain will create a lot of problems at St. Joseph’s since the buildings were so poorly constructed that most roofs leaked!!) The most rewarding experience about going to school, after buying candies and chit chatting with friends, was running into Policeman “Speedy” George (George Washington). He was very kind to us and always encouraged us to stay in school. He always had a smile on his face. He was like a big brother and/or father figure to us. Though there was not that much traffic during my years at St. Patrick’s, he was always there to help us cross the street. If he was not working close to St. Patrick’s, we’d run into him on Fisher St. He also enjoyed teasing us but did it in a very kind way. Some kids were scared of “Speedy”. If one entered St. Patrick’s Church yard from Prince St., one noticed many white crosses on the right side of the entrance. The cemetery of the church is also to the right and almost in the center of the yard. The crosses represented sailors from a US navy ship that died in the tidal wave (tsunami) of November 18, 1867that was produced after a catastrophic earthquake. It inundated the waterfront of F’sted. The Navy ship that was anchored in the harbor is said to have been thrown into F’sted by the wave. Today, the crosses have been replaced with a monument. [The names listed on the white monument are all followed by USN,United States Navy. The last entry on the monument is the dates November 1867 to June 1868.] |
© 2008, Property of Jorge L. Rodríguez. Not for publication in any media without permission Original draft written in 2003. |
© 2008, Property of Jorge L. Rodríguez. Not for publication in any media without permission Original draft written in 2003. |