“Our group didn’t  
break the rules,
we just tested  
their boundaries  
— extensively.”

And “test the boundaries” we most certainly did! I don’t recall anyone in the photo above getting into any really big trouble during our high school years, but I am confident that we all have stories to share of situations in which we narrowly escaped the wrath of Brother Draper, the Dean of Students at Saint Ignatius College Prep in the 1970s. 

A few such stories were shared yesterday when the fine young gentlemen in the photo above, along with our spouses and significant others, enjoyed an afternoon of food, beverages, lively conversation, friendship, memories, and gratitude for the ability to get together once again this year. Bill and Penny Roche were our gracious hosts at the El Prado Hotel in Palo Alto. 

Growing up in the United States in the 1960’s and early 1970’s was a unique experience, to put it mildly. Doing so in San Francisco was much like a prolonged educational field trip. Throughout these tumultuous years, we had front-row seats to history in the making. From the music of the Beatles, the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Bob Dylan, The Doors, the Beach Boys, Cat Stevens, Santana, and Chicago to the news stories of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the war in Vietnam, the Civil Rights Movement, the assassinations of President John Kennedy, Malcom X, Senator Robert Kennedy, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Neil Armstrong’s first steps on the moon, we were there to watch it play out in real time. 

As students in Catholic schools for both elementary and high school, we were also witnesses to the local effects of the Second Vatican Council. The Catholic Church of our First Communion (1962) changed drastically by the time we reached our high school years. The rigidity of the Baltimore Catechism was tossed aside, but it took many years before effective, high-quality catechetical materials would be available for use in schools. Because of this, our first two years of high school Theology classes were spent making collages and singing Kum-ba-ya, while the teacher passed around his grade book at the end of the semester inviting us to give ourselves our semester grade. 

Somehow we survived those experiences and went on to live productive lives as contributing members of society. Yesterday’s gathering was a blessing for which I am tremendously grateful.