03/01/08, 05/24/20 |
St. Joseph's School |
S A I N T J O S E P H 'S H I G H S C H O O L S A I N T J O S E P H H I G H S C H O O L |
S A I N T J O S E P H ' S H I G H S C H O O L S A I N T J O S E P H H I G H S C H O O L |
X. St. Joseph’s School St. Joseph’s opened its doors in 1964. My sister’s class was the first class to graduate from St. Joe’s. María graduated in 1965. She left for New York City soon after graduation. Originally, I think the school was going to be named St. Joseph’s Central High School but with the public high school being built with the name Central High School, the name was changed to St. Joseph’s Catholic High School. St. Joseph’s Chapel was close by. [Recently, the St. Joseph’s Church was built to the west side of the chapel.] St. Joseph’s and Central High brought the two towns on St. Croix together. Before this, we hardly knew anyone in the other town. New friends were made and the island felt as one rather than two separate communities. Before this the only reason we’d go to Christiansted was to go see a movie at Alexander’s Theater or to enjoy the beach at Cramers Park. Most of the times the farthest east we went was to Estate Coble to visit Titi Guilla. I began St. Joseph’s in 1965. We were the second class to attend the full four years at St. Joe’s. We had to be bussed to school since it was almost in the center of the island. We were picked up at various points throughout the island. One of the pick up points was at Peter Christian’s Corner. The school was in Mount Pleasant, surrounded by sugarcane fields. The campus was called the Octagon because the walks that connected the classrooms formed an Octagon. We ended up with some great teachers and one tough principal. Mr. Ferreira was tough. It was said that he had been in the seminary but had left it before taking his final vows. What the man lacked in height, he had in character. However, he was fair and once you got to know him, he was a cool guy. Mr. Ferreira would wait for us at the stairs of the staff building and check us as we got off the bus. We were reprimanded or sent home if we were not dressed properly, groomed, etc. I was sent home to shave in my senior year because I had too much fuzz on my face and he didn’t like it. I promised myself on that day that as soon as I finished high school would never shave again. Shaving was painful! [I still sport a beard. Now it’s mostly gray. I shaved in 1989 after 20 years of not shaving and again in 1999. I shaved to surprise Ma. Every time I v isited St. Croix, I would be compared to Paco. Relatives would say that he was better looking since he had a clean-shaven face.] Mr. Caso (pronounced Kay-so) was to me the best teacher I ever had. He made learning History fun. He was a superb actor. Some days he’d come in dressed like one of the characters in the chapter we were going to discuss. At other times he’d present the dry history lesson as if he was reading poetry. Ms. Snyder was a young knowledgeable teacher but always appeared to be scared. I suppose she thought we would cause something to blow up in her Chemistry class. Ms. Hopewell was a great English teacher. She made me want to read. One of the nuns that taught in St. Patrick’s also taught in St. Joe’s. She was the sweetest person you ever wanted to meet. She was understanding, compassionate, funny, strict, fair, and everything else. During her St. Pat’s day, we called her Sister Allyde (possibly Alyde) and in St. Joe’s she was Sr. Paul or John Paul though many of us continued to call her Sr. Allyde. I don’t know what became of her after I graduated from St. Joe’s. In St. Patrick’s and St. Joe’s, I remember being involved yearly with what we called science projects. One year, I gathered leaves from the most common trees on St. Croix, dried them, had them posted on cardboards with an explanation of the type of tree, where this tree could be found on the island, etc. I remember one student doing something with the various soils found on the island. He had a map of St. Croix and labeled it to show where each sample of dirt could be found. I thought that project was neat. Another time my display was about the symbiotic relationship between birds and the animals they follow. A prize was given to the best project. I can’t remember if I ever won any prize. Most of the classrooms leaked. It was a problem from day one and no matter what repairs were done the leaks continued. Buckets were placed throughout the rooms to catch the water and thus prevent it from flooding the rooms. It became a joke. I continued to be a teacher’s pet in high school. Everyone said I had an innocent looking face and because of that, I got away with things others could not. In one class we were reading from a book and the teacher assigned a different student to read portions of the text. I was told by the class to raise my hand at a certain point. I was told to mispronounce a particular word. I raised my hand and was called. I began to read and when I got to the word I pretended to have difficulty with it. By doing this, I wouldn’t give myself away. I pronounced the word twat and the class began to scream. The word was taut. The teacher smiled. He asked me if I knew what I had said. I said no so he gave me the right pronunciation. No punishment. Another time the word was fork and I was told to pronounce it as fuck. I got away with it, too. In an English class, I had to read “Gulliver’s Travels” in order to do an oral book report. Who doesn’t know about the Lilliputians? We had to get in front of the class and give the report. I was told to say Lili Putas when I got to the word. I did. The class laughed. Ms. Hopewell turned red. I continued with my report as if I had no idea what I had done. No punishment here either! At one point, I was almost expelled from school. We had had a conversation before Religious Studies (Theology) about Christ’s sexuality. Some members of the discussion group argued that Christ had to have been gay because he never got married and was always walking around with men. Others felt he was just too dedicated to His teachings to get involved with a family. Someone told me to ask the priest, who came once a week to teach us, what he thought about what we had discussed earlier. As soon as I got the opportunity, I raised my hand and asked the question when I was recognized by the priest. The priest was furious! He told me to wait for him after class. I cannot remember what we talked about but he came close to expelling me. I don’t know what made him change his mind. Could it have been my innocent looking face? A gym and the cafeteria were eventually housed in a building to the west of the Octagon. The food here was better than that of St. Patrick’s. Again, I got lots to eat because most of the cooks knew me and liked me. I continued to drink the milk for the other students but not for too long. The cooks decided to add vanilla and/or a little peanut butter to the milk and that made it tastier and easier to swallow. Eventually, some of the students started their own experiments with the milk. They emptied miniature bottles of liquor into the milk and drank it that way. Most returned to the afternoon classes high! The gym was used for our sports and exercise classes and some evenings for record hops and other social functions and events. There was a basketball court. Though I participated in all the sports, I was not into sports that much. I did like track and field, though. The record hops at the gym were a lot of fun. I liked the music and I liked dancing. It was great hanging out with my classmates though at times I felt out of place. Most of what we danced to was the sounds of Motown, the latest hits, and the hits of the Caribbean. At one of the hops a student danced the Mash Potato to all the songs. The other dances were the Twist, the Watusi, the Locomotion, and naturally all the slow numbers. [The songs we listened to back then are now called Oldies but Goodies.] At some point while attending St. Joe’s, I joined the Glee Club. It was fun learning new songs, and singing at various ceremonies at school and around the island. I remember songs like “Some Enchanted Evening”, then there was the song about “…someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah, someone’s in the kitchen, I know…”, “Climb Every Mountain”, etc. Listening to the group sing the songs in various harmonies was interesting. There were the altos, the sopranos, the tenors, and the basses. I don’t know what I was since my voice was changing and at times I could sing like a bass, a soprano or an alto. In 1965, I visited my grandparents in Vieques. I enjoyed my first flight very much but my mother and aunt, Titi Catalina, were not too happy because they were not fond of planes. The plane carried about 6 to 8 passengers. I was told that sometimes one of the passengers would have to sit in the co-pilot’s seat. I was looking forward to that but it did not happen. Landing on Vieques was an experience since the airfield was in what looked like a pasture. We circled the airport a few times until the cattle on the field were moved. It was a bumpy landing. Vieques was quieter than St. Croix. However, when the Navy planes flew over the houses everything shook. It was worse than an earthquake. My grandfather yelled at me because he heard me referring to Mamá Lola as tú, the informal way to refer to others. I should have used Usted. After Papá Leo left, Mamá Lola called me over and comforted me by telling me to refer to her as Usted only when Papá Leo was around. She was a doll. [Today, Puerto Ricans are trying to get the Navy out of the island. It is said that the cancer rate is very high on the island and it could be due to the live ammunition used in the naval exercises. The federal government denies it. President Bush has promised to get out of Vieques in 2003. I have always said that the residents of Vieques are the only ones that should decide what should become of the Navy. Those that are not living on the island should keep out of the island’s internal affairs. I have a feeling that if and when the Navy leaves rich individuals and big corporations will take over the lands and exclude the locals from the development plans. I wrote the governor of Puerto Rico to see if my family would be able to get back the land where my mother and father lived before the Navy took over. Update: The U.S. Navy ceased operations on the island on May 1, 2003. Part of the lands used by the Navy will be turned over to the Puerto Rican government but the lands that are contaminated will be controlled by the Department of Interior. I suppose after the lands held by the Dept. of Interior are cleaned they, too, will be turned over to the PR government. I was informed that though my mother lived in the area when the Navy took over the lands, she has no documents to prove it so the land cannot be returned to her. The tracking station on St. Croix was closed down since they are no longer needed to assist the military maneuvers on Vieques.] When someone took a trip everyone in the family went to see him or her off. The airport would be packed with people but only a few would be traveling. Non-Hispanics would ask me why we do this. First of all, since some of us hardly went out going to the airport was treated as a day out. Secondly, we were close and I suppose we wanted to see each other off in case that would be the last time we would see each other. If a Hispanic was asked where so and so was, we would be told en Los Nueva Yores (in the New Yorks) as if there were more than one, or en los estados (in the States). They just meant that the individual was some place in New York. The non-Hispanic locals called the Continental United States the States. Which state? If asked they would then tell you which state the person was in, usually New York or Florida. St. Croix has always had a nice airport. The Alexander Hamilton Airport (now the Henry E. Rohlsen Airport) was a two-story building with a small restaurant on the second floor and an area for viewing the planes landing and taking off. For a while, passengers had to go through Customs in Puerto Rico or in the Continental U.S. but that was eventually changed. Performing the customs and immigrations formalities on St. Croix made it easier for passengers. The airlines that came into St. Croix were Caribair (I think most of these planes were DC-3’s), later came Prinair, Vieques Airlines (now Vieques Air Link), Eastern, Pan Am, Trans-Caribbean and a few other small airlines. After Trans-Caribbean had an accident on St. Thomas its routes were taken over by American Airlines. After the accident, most passengers holding Trans-Caribbean reservations changed to Pan Am or Eastern. I flew on the last Trans-Caribbean from St. Croix to New York. The plane was extremely empty so the passengers on board were allowed to sit in any seat. That day the alcoholic beverages were on the house. Sometime during my freshman year (1965-1966), I began working at La Crosse Laundry and Cleaners (located in what I think is part of Stony Ground, a plot or two north of Delgado’s home and store). A classmate who was working there suggested I apply for a job. At first I worked in the summer and then later I worked part time all year. The classmate who suggested I apply for the job was not retained after the first summer we worked together. At first, I was hired to help pack the clean laundry that was being returned to the various hotels and guest houses (Buccaneer, Tamarind Reef, Pink Fancy, Queens Quarters, Grape Tree Bay, etc) on the island and as time progressed I was given more and more responsibilities. I was trained to operate the industrial size washers, the various machines that ironed and/or steamed clothes and eventually even operated the cash register. There were two entrances to the laundry, one on the Centerline Road (Queen May Highway) side and the other on the dirt road. There was a big tree on the premises with a few benches where we sat down for lunch. The huge boiler room was closer to Centerline Road and on the north side of the building. People dropped off clothes at a window close to the dirt road which was considered the front of the building. A ticket was made up and a copy was given to the customer. Each article was tagged with a plastic number if it needed to be washed. The machine that was used to place the tags worked with heat and pressure. Most tags never came off and most of the time had to be removed when the same item came back for cleaning or washing. For the items needing to be dry-cleaned, a number taken off the ticket was pinned to the article. There were various steam presses to iron pants, shirts and the like, washers of different capacities, dryers and wringers, a machine that was fed wet sheets and which exited at the other end dry and almost completely folded. There was a machine that folded shirts that was great to see in action. One would stick the collar in a niche then intertwine the sleeves in the metal bars at the side. At a press of a button the shirt would be folded. All one had to do was place it in a box! Above our heads was a conveyor belt system that moved the clothes from one department to the next and eventually to the area responsible for bagging the clothes. The heat in the building was incredible! La Crosse had two Laundromats, one in each town, where clothes could be dropped off for dry cleaning and later picked up. The truck driver stopped at the branches and the various hotels to pick up clothes that had to be washed/cleaned in the main laundry or to drop off clothes that had already been washed/cleaned. The majority of the items cleaned and/or washed at the main laundry were for the hotels. The Laundromats had washers/dryers for use by the public. I liked working at La Crosse. The people were very friendly. I think there were only about 2 other Crucians (Ms. Sarauw, Mr. Jimmy Lucas) working at the plant. Miss Sarauw was the cashier, a very friendly lady that I think was very involved with a church. She was always humming or singing. Most of the workers were immigrants that were mostly bonded by Mr. La Crosse. There were two women that were quick to go on a rampage for any reason. They’d cuss other workers out in a second. Everyone enjoyed gossiping and these two women knew how to spice up a good gossip. One of these women was from Antigua and the other from St. Kitts. It was said that the Antiguan had placed a curse on Mr. La Crosse. How can that be? I was told that as soon as the Antiguan became friendly with me, I was to ask her if she had kids. I was told to look for a picture of the boss in her wallet, which would be upside down. I’ve never believed in this. I never saw the picture of the boss in her wallet! There was a St. Lucian woman, let’s call her Camelia, who was as beautiful as they came. She had a cinnamon complexion and was very soft spoken. She was very interested in what everyone was doing and feeling, and had a great sense of humor. She acted as if she had no cares in her life. I think eventually she was made a supervisor. [I ran into her on September 29, 1989 on the American Airlines flight to St. Croix after Hugo. She told me she had moved to upstate New York but was on her way down to assess what damages the hurricane had down to her property.] My favorite part of working at La Crosse was being able to help the truck drivers. Helping them meant I would travel all over the island. I got to see parts of most of the hotels. We were only allowed to use the delivery entrance so we didn’t get to see the lobby, rooms, etc., but I got to know where the hotels were and in sodoing got to see most of the island since we delivered laundry from Clover Crest (Ham’s Bluff) to Grape Tree Bay (C’sted). It was amusing to see all the white tourists sitting in the sun trying to get tanned. One driver commented on how strange it was that they wanted to get as dark as we were and would pay thousands of dollars to visit the Caribbean to do it yet they disliked us for our color. How true! Most of the money I made at La Crosse was used to pay for my education at St. Joseph’s, buy clothes and buy things for Ma. I bought her the first Osterizer blender that came out. [The glass container eventually broke and Ma replaced it. Ma still has the base (motor) with the blade and with the new container the blender works like new! Years after leaving St. Croix, I inquired about Mr. La Crosse and was told that he had supposedly taken all the money from the business and fled to Canada. I do not know if the information is true.] On the dirt road behind La Crosse, about a block north from the laundry, there was a big almond tree on the south east corner. It was fun picking up the big fruits and eating the maroon looking color skin which was very sweet. Once the skin was eaten, I’d take a stone and break the shell to get to the fruit that was in the center. It was delicious. During my high school years, I also helped Javier out at Fountain Valley Golf Course (Now part of Carambola). He was responsible for taking care of the greens. He would fertilize the greens and then use the sprinkler system to water the grass. It was a neat job, especially riding up and down in the cars, some of which were electric. The electric cars had to be plugged in at night to recharge the batteries. Before leaving the place, we would use the shower in the garage area where the cars were stored and repaired, and where the fertilizer, etc., was housed. Some nights two Puerto Rican men came by to shower. They lived in River. These men would appear out of the darkness and would later leave the same way. One night these men and I decided to ride around in the dark in the cars. The moon and stars gave us enough light to see where we were going. Though the cars had lights, we avoided turning them on. The cars were all white so they were easily seen in the dark. One night, we crashed into each other and broke the front of one of the cars, which was made from fiber glass. We parked the car and said nothing. Javier was pissed. No one from the golf course said anything about the broken car. They must have assumed it was done by one of the golfers. I once tried to play caddie for someone and it was a disaster. The person hit the ball; it went into the air and disappeared. Where did it go? I had no clue. I realized then and there I would not make a good caddie. We also walked around looking for balls left behind by the players to sell them back to the golf course for a few pennies for each ball. Fountain Valley was an 18-hole golf course while the one at Carlton was, I think, nine holes. I remember going to Carlton to look for balls that were left behind by the players, wash them in a machine that was found on the course close to the club house and then sell them back to the store on the premises for pennies a ball. We kept some balls to play with. Some balls were cut open to get the small ball that was covered by what seemed like a never-ending rubber band. I also worked for a while for two elderly white ladies that lived on the east side of Dorsch beach. They were moving back to the continent and needed someone to help them pack. Some of their smaller items would be mailed via the post office while the larger items were being prepared for shipping. They wanted me to help them with the smaller items. I started off working with Willie Cruz but he didn’t last long. The ladies demanded that each package be wrapped perfectly! The paper had to be the perfect size to fit the item and the tape had to be placed just right. After a few errors, I learned. Willie couldn’t get it. I didn’t understand why it was that important to package the items the way the ladies demanded. Each box looked like a piece of art!! After all the items were packed and mailed, I did not return to the ladies’ home. Where were they moving to? I remember them talking about a daughter. Were the ladies related? I don’t know. Up to this day, I take pride in the way I package items to be mailed! During the year, after the sugarcane was processed, the sugar was transported via ship off island. The sugar was placed in big black rubber containers and placed on flatbed trucks. To avoid accidents, the trucks inched their way from Bethlehem to the dock. It was fun watching the whole process. The Bethlehem Sugar Factory closed its doors in 1966. Because sugar was being made from other sources (like beet) there was no longer any need for the sugar cane plantations in the Caribbean. Most of the Caribbean turned to tourism in order to survive. It was rumored that St. Croix would turn to planting oranges but that never happened. On or about March 31, 1967 there was a big shindig on St. Croix and the other islands. We celebrated 50 years of being under the U.S. rule. The streets were decorated; there were parades and all kinds of ceremonies. [In 1992 there was also another celebration for the 75th Anniversary.] In 1968, my brother joined the US Army. He was in the Airborne Division. Eventually he was sent to Vietnam. Why were we fighting there? Why were we sending our men so far away to fight a war no one understood? It was all so damn crazy. My brother got hurt in 1969 and it devastated Ma. At that point I decided that I no longer wanted to join the Navy. I did not want to end up in a war I did not agree with. Yeah, I know we have to protect our country but to me this was not the way. The French pulled out of French Indochina (Vietnam) because they realized they could not win the war they were fighting. America took it over to stop “communism” but look at what cost!! [Does the US have any idea what Agent Orange did to the people and vegetation of Vietnam? What are the long-term effects of all the Agent Orange that was used to de-leaf the trees? What long-term effect did it have on the US soldiers? A recent report stated that Agent Orange does cause problems and if I am not mistaken, they mentioned leukemia. During the Viet Nam war, the American public was fed a lot of wrong information so they would think the U.S. was wining the war. In 2003, the U.S. started a war in Iraq based on misinformation. Though President Clinton was almost impeached for lying to investigators about a personal affair, no one has talked about impeaching Bush for lying to the country and world! Go figure!!] The shirt/blouse we wore as part of our uniform was cotton and very thin. One could see everything that was being worn under the shirt/blouse. One day in an English class this girl sat in front of me with a big X showing through the back of her blouse, which was created by the straps of her bra. I began to ask her about the damn thing and why the straps were so different. I grabbed it and let go. The next thing you know she screamed grabbed her chest and ran out of the classroom. The teacher asked me what was wrong. I said I didn’t know. She came back with a smile. After class, she told me that when I pulled the straps the bra came loose. Months later, another student tried to get fresh with the same girl. She slapped him. He couldn’t understand why she slapped him and didn’t do so when I pulled her bra strap. She explained to him that she knew I knew when to stop but if she’d let him get away with what he had done he would have continued to do it day after day. The guy never tried it again. Blacks on the island were wearing dashikis and sporting their hair in Afros. Because of what was taking place in the Continental U.S., Blacks took on a new pride. However, I felt that the Blacks from the other islands were being excluded from the movement. St. Joe’s accepted the immigrants and they were not mistreated on campus but once off campus it was a different story. I talked to them and hung out with them because I knew what it was like to be called names, ridiculed, etc. The Civil Rights movement brought a lot of justice for minorities, especially Black Americans. The force behind it all was Martin Luther King, Jr. What a great inspiration. However, he did not live long to see his dream come true. Mr. King was assassinated on April 4, 1968. It was a blow to the Civil Rights Movement. Why was he assassinated? Who was really behind the assassination? On June 5, 1968 another great individual died. Robert Kennedy, President Kennedy’s brother, was assassinated in California on his campaign trail for the presidency. Another great person shot down! Why? At St. Joe’s, the girls wore a blue plaid skirt and a white blouse while the boys wore khaki pants with a white shirt and a tie that matched the girls’ skirts. Shoes we wore had to be black loafers. Before we graduated seniors were allowed to come to school without having to wear a tie. We also assigned the flamboyant trees at the western end of the building housing the administrative offices as the hang out for seniors. While in high school my classmates tried to find me a nickname but none ever stuck. For a while, I was called Geo (pronounced Gee-o), short for George. The nuns had taken it upon themselves to change my name from Jorge to George. Later I was called GeoRod, the first 3 letters of my first and last names. That didn’t stick either. I suppose I was not meant to have a nickname. Some classmates signed their greetings in my yearbook “to GeoRod”. On the island nicknames were common. We had such colorful names as Panty Smeller (or Sniffer). It was said he took women’s lingerie off the clotheslines and sniffed them. I would say he was more into the fragrance of the detergents and/or fabric softener used since the panties that he took were washed! We also had Three Seed, Driller (Or was it Thriller?), Big Wheel, Turkey Bam-Bam, Goof, Papá King, Horse Teeth, Red Head, Blanco, Los Ratones (The Rats), Pachanga Cloth, Chasey Poo (but could be Poop), Don’t Do It, Micey, No Lo Vimos, Mongoose, Bahn to kill (Born to kill), and many, many others. Some names referred to individuals while others to families as a whole. Calling some people by their nicknames could mean trouble. Some individuals/families found their nicknames to be offensive since the name was used to tease the individual/family. Sometime during my high school years, I lost all trust I had in the church. I did not, however, ever lose faith in God. God was always in my thoughts, my prayers, etc. The church had begun to move too fast for me. Latin masses were now said in English and Spanish. There were folk masses with guitars, tambourines, etc. But that’s not what bothered me. I began to question further the role the priests played. I found them to be as human as I was and thus could make mistakes and thus sin. If God could forgive them why wouldn’t He forgive me? If God was in every place every time, why did I have to confess to a man who wore a black robe? I began to feel that I could talk to God directly instead of going through an intermediary. I also found that the words in the Bible were open to many interpretations and that which was being fed to me was not the only correct one. If God created everyone in His likeness, am I not part of it also? I refrained from going to confession and reduced my Sunday worships. I made the Honor Society but when I realized the amount of responsibilities I would have and the ceremonies I would have to attend, I slacked up in my studies to drop my point average. I just didn’t want to be placed in the Society’s limelight. However, being selected would have meant better choices in colleges/universities. Almost every year I was recognized for my perfect attendance, good grades, etc. To honor the better students, the teachers gave out certificates at an assembly in the Octagon. One year I was teased so much for receiving a certificate every year that I decided to miss one day of class not to get too many certificates. Peer pressure? The class of 1969 consisted of 63 students, 38 females and 25 males. The graduation was held at St. Patrick’s Church. When Mr. Ferreira gave me my diploma, I thanked him. He whispered in my ear that there was no need to thank him since I was the one that did all the work. True. [The first class reunion was held in 1999. Due to the small number of students, we joined forces with the class of ’69 from Central High. The turn out was not what I expected. Years later the class took a cruise but I did not make it.] I did not attend any of the other functions held by and for the seniors. The main reason was that Ma could not afford to buy me a suit. The secondary reason was that I did not know which girl to invite. It appears they were all taken! I was asked to sing “The Impossible Dream” at Class Night since I was always singing the song on campus. I think I learned the song from one of the Supremes albums I had. I think if I had learned to play a musical instrument, I would have ended up in the entertainment field since I enjoy music so much. |
© 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. |