Note: Each person registered has a place for messages on this site. One can send a message by going to “community”, then to the data base and then clicking on the name of the person. Or if the person has commented on the blog, one can click on his name and it will go to his messages. To check messages click on “my account” and then “messages”. Another note: Next blog on the 15th will be after the Gala/Picnic. Here’s hoping those of you who are able to go to one or both of the events will tell those of us who can’t go about them. Now to our regularly scheduled blog.
As an aspiring genius, the other day I was reading an article on what makes a genius a genius. It gave the example of physicist Richard Feynman (I had never heard of this man) who had an unimpressive IQ, but was very creative in his thinking. I was thinking, in a very creative manner, that sometimes we need to approach religion with a new way of thinking, especially with regard to our celebration of some of the most important days of the liturgical year.
Last Sunday, Father Garcia mentioned that Pentecost is the birthday of the Church. After Mom and I got home, we decided that we should celebrate the Church’s 1980th birthday. We made a chocolate cake, put a candle in it and sang Happy Birthday to Mater Ecclesia. Mom really sang out. There was a lot of symbolism in our little ceremony. The Holy Spirit descended in tongues of fire and there was our little tongue of fire on top of the candle. The Gospel reading at Mass was Christ breathing on the Apostles, giving them the Holy Spirit and the sacramental ability to forgive sins. And Mom and I had used our breath to blow out the candle — and fire certainly has a connection to sin. We didn’t have 1980 candles, but the one represented the One True Church and Her Unity. Our birthday party made Pentecost a little more vivid.
Once I read a story about a monastery electing an Epiphany Queen. The description made the event seem like the greatest in the world. Every household, it seems, should have an Epiphany king or queen or both elected each year in a similar manner. I was thinking, maybe the way a genius without a very high IQ would think, that it would be interesting to write to various religious orders to find out how particular days or seasons are celebrated and make it into a booklet that families could then use to adopt/adapt the customs for their own homes. Does this seem like something people would be interested in? Is there already a book of this sort?
We have Trinity Sunday and Corpus Christi and the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart immediately ahead of us. What will we do to celebrate these days? As it works out, the Gala and the Picnic are on the days following the Universal Holy Day of Corpus Christi (the Thursday after Trinity Sunday). We could see these as extensions of that celebration. Or the Picnic could be a celebration of St. Anthony of Padua’s feast. A picnic is a wonderful way for families to celebrate. Which leads me to tell you a picnic story.
Uncle Ray and Aunt Mary’s family had a great place for picnicking. It was the Old Nile Reservoir (not in Egypt) which was a dry lake bed fed by the almost always dry Bijou Creek (not in France). It was a vast area with nobody around — near Hoyt, Colorado, where my godfather was the postmaster. After a big snowstorm one freezing winter, Uncle Ray decided the family should go on a picnic. So all eight of them piled into the cab of their tractor (this is similar to putting eight people into a phone booth) and they blazed a trail through the snow to the Old Nile. Cousin Betty, who was retelling this story to me via e-mail when she was supposed to be working at her job as parish secretary, said she can’t remember anything about the picnic, only the ride crammed into the tractor cab and how cold her feet were. Our family went on a picnic with Uncle Ray’s family at the Old Nile once, of all times, on a warm summer’s day. On this picnic I learned about animal survival techniques. We surrounded a lizard, and someone was able to grab it, hold it by its tail, and then we watched it wriggle free from its tail. That was great. Then we found a mud puddle with water snakes in it. We decided to grab snakes too, but soon found out that the snakes made our hands smell terrible — 10 times worse than a skunk smell. This was not great and we left the snakes alone. We then played volleyball with a net strung between two cottonwoods. Cows had pastured there a while ago, so cousin Dan designated himself as the sanitation department. The game would periodically have to be halted so the sanitation chairman could come running with his shovel to improve the court when debris was found under leaves and such. That was a fun volleyball game.
Burke Lake Park probably is a little different than the Old Nile, but just in case, could someone bring a shovel to the Picnic?
First one to comment why this entry has the title that it does wins a prize to be determined at a later date. Entry deadline is the 14th.
The title has a subliminal message — to win the prize one must correctly give the subliminal message.
I am submitting a link to a petition that is asking His Eminence Francis Cardinal George, O.M.I. Archbishop of Chicago, President of United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, to consider consecrating the United States to Our Lady of Guadalupe as the first step and our greatest hope, to put an end to the path of destruction President Obama has us on.
Please consider forwarding this link to all the members of Our Seton, since we all hold life dear, even the unborn.
Thank you in advance for your consideration of this petition.
Please pray for Kelly Koehr ’05 and Paul Mooney ’05 who are now engaged to be married
2 quick things. You should scroll down to the next-to-last comment on the first blog — the one from Mrs. Moschetto. She talks about her van pool and the ditto machine. It is very funny. And I have decided to post entries on the 5’s — the 5th, 15th and 25th of each month. (Might skip Christmas.) Try not to get too excited on the 4’s of each month in eager anticipation.
OK, now here is the Gala Guide.
Some of you may not be very accustomed to mingling at lavish affairs, so I want to help out with advice based on my social experience.
First, here are my credentials. I have been in the company of: the heir to the Holy Roman Empire; John Schmitz, the 1972 Presidential Candidate for the American Party who got a million votes; Supreme Court Justice Byron (Whizzer) White who voted against Roe v Wade; President Richard Nixon’s daughter (I think her name was Julie); Sean O’hare and Jim Koehr, sometimes organizers of lavish affairs.
The first thing to rememeber is that people might not remember or recognize you. So be ready to introduce yourself often. (I am told that George W. Bush always introduced himself by name at social events.)
If the person you just introduced yourself to does not reciprocate the info, it is fine to ask. It might be a bit blunt to say, “Who are you?” Try something humble sounding like, “My memory never was too good, and it has gotten worse. Could you help me out with your name, Social Security # and date of birth?” (Try to avoid asking this of the same person twice in the evening.)
Always think of yourself as the host/hostessof the Gala. That is, go to the Gala wanting everyone else to have a good time without thinking so much of yourself. Seek out those who seem to have trouble mingling. If your concern is for others, you will find you will have the best time possible. This also means you should be more eager to find out more about others than to talk about yourself. If you have done something really amazing, such as maybe you have met President Nixon’s daughter, mention it only as passing item. Amazement will naturally follow.
Show your esteem to those being honored. Specific examples are better than generalities. “Mr. Scheetz, I still celebrate Mole Day every October 23rd (make sure that is the right date) with mock apple pie. Thanks for teaching me about those things.”
Congratulate those who put in a lot of time making the evening possible. “Mrs. VW, I hear you were one of those behind the scenes people that every event depends on for success. It’s been a great evening. When do you think the next gala will be?” If she faints at this question, do not call 9-1-1. She will recover quickly.
Now, those of you who were a little dubious about going to the Gala because you felt socially inadequate, go ahead and sign up. There isn’t much time left — the deadline is June 3rd. You are certain to enjoy the company, the program, the music, the food and the surprises.
And remember the Mass Saturday morning at 10:30. Then there is the picnic that follows.
To all of us Catholics who hold life dear,
signing this petition addressed to His Eminence Francis Cardinal
George, O.M.I. Archbishop of Chicago President of United States
Conference of Catholic Bishops, asking him to consecrate the United
States to Our Lady of Guadalupe inorder to end this path of self-destruction
President Obama has us on.
Please forward the link to all your email lists.
Looking back with others who were there almost always is a source of laughter. The hardships, the annoyances and the trials somehow lose their bitterness and become instead sweet nostalgia. What was once regarded as almost unbearable now is worn as a badge of honor. We suffered and survived, and we are proud. We wouldn’t want to return to those days, but we are now glad we lived through them. We see that in some way that what we had to go through has made us better and, perhaps, has made things better for those who have come after us.
There are 34 years of Seton history and 33 years of Seton graduates. There are two opposite ways that those years can lose their full significance. Newer alumni and current students may be unaware of the school’s history: rented classrooms; the “old building” that stood where a parking lot is now; the early teachers, coaches, office staff and parents who could look beyond appearance and see a purpose; the students — some who drove from out-of-state each day, some who boarded from out-of-state and some whose families moved from out-of-state so Seton could be their school. The beginnings, just as the middle and the present, form one Seton.
The other extreme is to have graduated some time ago or a long time ago and not kept up with Seton since then. Maybe some of you still picture the students in jeans rather than uniforms; think students still carry demerit cards; imagine basketball teams practicing on a carpeted half-court; think French class is held in Mrs. Haggerty’s home.
There are some things that have remained, though evolved, perhaps, since the very beginning or very early years: attendance at the March for Life; pro-life speeches; demerits and detentions; Monday Mass at All Saints; the May Crowning; the pilgrimage to Mother Seton’s Shrine; Mrs. Carroll, Mrs. Haggerty, Mrs. Mirus, Mr. Scheetz and Mr.Violett teaching or coaching.
I was thinking of the evolution of the school newspaper that began as The Conquistador, became the 7 Seas, then went through many other names and now is known as the Inquisitor.
The early production of the paper took place in the room above the old carpeted gym. That room is now known as the Cenacle and is Mrs. O’Herron’s office. When it was Seton’s press room, it was, shall we say, climate control challenged. In those variable environmental conditions the paper was typed on manual typewriters or sometimes working electrics; justification of margins had to be figured line by line and appropriate taps of the space bar made to get the alignment right; vinyl peel-off letters were used for headlines; gloves, scarves and hats were worn in the winter — the gloves made typing a little difficult, but it was done; Joe Fegan (now Father Peter, OP) wrote my all-time favorite sports line about a Seton basketball player: “He is improving by leaps and rebounds”; Rob Griffin honed his writing skills before becoming a professional writer; Seton Notes had their beginnings.
In later years we moved to the unheated library. For some reason Wyo-Tech, a Wyoming college featuring a degree in diesel mechanics advertised in our paper. Kathryn McKelvey was in charge of securing the ad, and I kept encouraging her to go there for college. The $100 she got from Wyo-Tech and a similar one from NOVA paid for the paper’s production that year.
I don’t know where the paper is produced now, but it is the work of a volunteer extra-curricular staff. It is a classy looking, well-written monthly complete with color photos. This past school year suscribers read about a Seton freshman winning the regional science fair and a trip to the international fair in Reno (She is there right now — my brother Dave lives in Reno and pixed me a photo of her by her project.); Seton’s swim teams taking state titles; Boomtown chosen as the spring musical; Michael Isenberg’s (’99) road from riches to the seminary. I think all alumni would enjoy reading it. And in next year’s editions you might see names you recognize since there are children of alumni and faculty throughout the school: Skube/Amos; Brien; Vander Woude; Heisler/McCarron; Pogue/Vugteveen; Angsten/Gregory; McCabe; Pennefather; “P”/Brien; Scheetz/Kelly and others.
The plan is for the newspaper to be on-line next year. So between it, ourseton and seton-school.org (a good site to visit often for current info on Seton), we should be able to stay connected and continue to appreciate our Seton.
In a nostalgic mood, here’s some Seton Notes (“notes” is “Seton” spelled backwards) based on this entry.
Father Peter: Order of Preachers! And to think you could have been a sports writer.
Rob Griffin: You have the write to remain a journalist, but no write to let your pen remain silent.
Cenacle Dwellers: Turn off the heat; turn off the air conditioning; turn on the nostalgia.
Inquisitor Staff: You’ve taken off the gloves — this is serious journalism now.
Kathryn McKelvey: If you’d gone there and worked on their paper it would have been: Hunt and peck
Collette: You’re in Reno even though I clearly proved my hypothesis that bean plants grow better with
sunlight and water than without!
Seton State Champs: Lend me your swimmers’ ears for I come to praise you.
To Boomtowners: 5280 feet worth of a standing ovation.
Seminarian Isenberg: Will you be ordained in the Year of the Priest?
Note #1 The first part of this entry is dedicated to all the Seton physics students who had to build toothpick bridges. Special recognition is given to those whose bridges failed to hold even the weight of the bucket despite many hours of glueing toothpicks together.
Note #2 After global warming has run its course and our farm here in Colorado becomes 318 acres of prime Pacific beach front property, I know the next great threat to civilization. Do not fear. I also know the solution.
Note #3 The last part is the important part.
Constructing things is not my forte, so when my high school physics teacher announced that we’d be entering the state-wide building contest, I was not excited. The other four in the class thought it was great. Information was handed out for the balsa wood construction, and I bought the wood and glue and got started. I built a little 12 x 4 x 4 rectangular box that met the dimension requirements. The goal was then to make the box so it would hold a lot of weight. I could think of nothing. I ended up taking a razor blade and making slits along the sides. Not sure why I did that.
The day came to test our constructions. The others were giddy to see how their arches and triangles and other ideas would do. I tried to hide my box and its slits. The teacher, however, asked us each to explain what we had done to make the box strong. So I said, “I put in slits so that the box’s sides would compress and so hold more weight.” To their credit, no one laughed, but their looks of disbelief spoke volumes.
The teacher picked mine to be destroyed first — sure as I was that it was the worst. The amount held was divided by the weight of the box. As it turned out, mine both held the most and was the lightest, so I won by quite a bit. As school winner, I had to rebuild and go on to state. The others could rebuild if they wanted to, and the teacher encouraged them to do so, I think, because he was embarrassed to be sending the slit box as the school’s only entry. The others did rebuild.
One day in class weeks later, the teacher announced that he had the list of those who finished in the top 1/3 of the state in the building contest. Then he said, “One of you made the list and even made the top 20.” I think everyone’s heart was beating quickly except mine. Then the teacher said, “I guess Westhoff’s slits were a good idea.” Never have I been so unjustifiably proud and so undeservingly rewarded.
The next great threat? It’s Global Compression. To all buildings, just add slits and we’ll be fine!
The top project that the alumni is undertaking is a construction project that everyone can be excited about whether or not he or she knows anything about construction. I think it is the Jesuits who put above the entrance to their chapels: House of God and Gate of Heaven. That’s what we are out to build, a bigger chapel for Seton which will house Our Lord and serve as a gate to heaven for students and teachers and all associated with Seton. There are several ideas being considered including renovating a part of the existing school, extending the current chapel onto newly purchased property, or making the chapel a separate building on the new property. I like the current chapel with the statue of St. Joseph that alumna Mary Van Scott sent from Poland; the Fatima statue that was originally a gift to Presdident Reagan; the Stations of the Cross that Mr. Scheetz made in part from the old cedar tree that has itself become a cross outside the school; the altar railing that Mr. Buser made; the renovations that Mr. P made, the stained glass of Mother Seton that a graduating class gave as its senior gift. The list goes on. Most of these parts of the chapel will still be a part of the new chapel, but there are many times when the smallness of the chapel is a handicap. I remember being at several Holy Hours for one cause or another and the closest one could get to the chapel was the hallway.
We can all be a part of the building of the chapel in one way or another. We need to continue to build our association first which is the main purpose of the Gala. Then, together we will be ready to build a House of God and Gate of Heaven.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. This paradoxical cliché can be illustrated by the actions of an alumnus and a current Seton Senior.
The Grape Story. There was once a time when the entire student body ate lunch at the same time in the “Old Building Cafeteria”. This was the building that had a heating system with floor grates which every true Seton student at sometime stood on and melted the soles of his shoes. It was the building that the fire marshal said would burn down in 30 seconds. (Possibly after someone’s shoes were set aflame.) It was the building with funny little heaters that had open flames. (Another possible source of the 30 second incineration.) It was the building of lots of fun events and happy memories for those of us who knew its true charm. It was also the building of the infamous thrown grape.
On the day being considered, Mrs. Carroll spoke to the student body about keeping the lunchroom neater. Soon after it was lunch time and yours truly had lunch duty. (Really in that building it could hardly be considered a “duty” – an overflowing experience of joy and satisfaction more aptly describes the assignment.) Anyway, at some point Inoticed a grape on the floor where no grape should have been. Astutely, I deduced that the grape’s positioning could only have been arrived at by being thrown. So, I asked of the lunching student body, “Who threw the grape?” Silence. I asked again, (some might say yelled) “Who threw the grape? Silence. I then said,”OK, if no one will tell me, then we will eat in silence for this entire lunch period.”
The lunchroom never cleared out so quickly. (It was a clever way to end that pure proctoring pleasure, no?) That question, “Who threw the grape?” became famous in Seton lore. It was the source of humor in skits and a topic of informal conversation. And through the years the perpetrator of the scandalous projectile was kept a secret from me while, it seems, the rest of the Seton world knew.
The Sponge Cake Story. Fast forward to this year’s seniors. At one time they were freshmen, and I was their religion teacher. No longer could the entire student body fit in the old cafeteria. (For one thing it was torn down, for another the student population was now more than 75.) Girls had religion while the boys lunched, then the roles were reversed. At the time being considered the girls were being lifted to near ecstasy by their teacher’s interesting and informative exposition of the Catholic Faith. In rapt attention they listened, the very dropping of a pin would have disturbed their concentration. Then it happened: something came flying into the room through an open window. There was silence. I asked “What was that?” One fo the girls who sat near where the object had landed answered, “It is a twinkie” and the entire room burst into laughter – even their teacher had to laugh. I asked, (more calmly than about the grape) “Who threw the twinkie?” Ten girls rushed to the windows, but, so they reported, could see no one. So the twinkie episode became famous, at least among the freshmen. Questions about it appeared on the midterm and final, but still the perpetrator of the flying Hostess treat remained a mystery to me.
Today I know the answers to these two important questions: ‘Who threw the grape?” and “Who threw the twinkie?” The latter’s answer remained a secret for only a year. Jimmy Powers confessed during a sophomore English class. The grape thrower waited much longer – nearly two decades to tell. It was at Seton’s 25th Anniversary Gala that Steve Egan confessed to me to being the grape thrower, ending many years of speculation.
Events like a gala-gathering have a way of bringing out the stories of the “good old days” They are a carnival of laughter and good cheer, and each person present adds to the festive atmosphere. I encourage any of you who can to be an Alumni Gala-attendee, but leave the grapes and twinkies at home because great food is already planned — food that you won’t want to throw a bit of at anyone.
It would be wonderful to hear from any of you by using the blog if I can figure out how that works or by e-mailing me at: [email protected].
It was the middle of the afternoon on a 65 degree February day when the phone rang. It was Sean O’Hare. After friendly greetings and the like, he got to the question: Would I blog on the Seton alumni website? Here’s how the conversation went from there.
Sure, Sean, that would be great. What is a blog? [Thus began Blogging 101]
It’s like a bulletin board. You put up a message and people respond.
It can be 300 words or 100 words or a couple sentences. [I think Sean was already losing confidence in me.] You don’t even have to use full sentences. In fact, you can just use abbreviations. For example CU ltr. [He had definitely lost all confidence in me.]
If you have things of interest people will respond. You can also expect hate mail from students who flunked logic.
You can write about nostalgic things or current events and when people start posting comments, you can respond to them.
We’d have Mrs. Carroll do it, but she is way too busy. [This was the second time that day and the third time in two days that I was reminded that I am not too busy. A friend had written, “You don’t sound busy.” A neighbor came over and said, “When one is busy the days go by quickly – your days must go by very slowly.” And now Sean from 1800 miles away, could even tell that I am idle.]
How often would I do this?
Might be hard. [Not because I am busy, mind you, but when one is doing basically nothing, during long, dull days, what is there to write about? To make matters worse, we do not watch TV or listen to the radio and do not subscribe to a newspaper, so Sean’s current events idea is hardly possible.]
We then discussed the need for me to have the internet, the March for Life, Sean’s businesses [he is very busy], the economy and then Sean had to go to a conference call, and I had to rest before resuming doing nothing.
But I am a quick learner, I think. Take the abbreviation thing. Let’s say I was finishing a text conversation with a former boxing great. I’d end it poetically like this: C U ltr. M____A__gtr.
Now it is time for a sense of seriousness. I want to thank Sean and Jim Koehr for the work they are doing to unite Seton’s alumni and for inviting me to do this. My 8th grade English teacher said many times through the school year, “The simple are easily amused” so I will be entertaining myself if nothing else. Sean emphasized to me the sense of community that Seton is and that this alumni website is here to promote. With all the attractions and detractions of the world, hope can ebb. So we need not even consider hate mail but instead devote ourselves to increasing the virtue of hope among us. What our Holy Father wrote about in Spe Salvi. Here in Lent, we might consider praying for the Gift of the Holy Ghost known as Fear of the Lord. Fear of the Lord is that Gift which fortifies the virtue of hope and increases our desire for the happiness of heaven by weaning us from the false goods of the earth that might allure us into sin. Besides rendering easy the practice of hope, Fear of the Lord also perfects the virtue of temperance by begetting in us the dread of the penalties and ills issuing from the illicit love of pleasure. With the aid of the Holy Spirit, we will be weaned from false goods and come to detest inordinate pleasure and grow in the hope that Pope Benedict XVI says will enable us to “face our present: the present, even if it is arduous.” Toward this end, I will be praying the noon Angelus for all alumni of Seton and your families. (It will give me something to do.) Please pray for Mom and me.
Please watch over our family and friends
And keep them happy and healthy.