Loyola College - Review Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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There was tremendous interest in Sports. The “Field Day” was the Gala Sports Event of the year. It was generally held in late May or early June. But at the first sign of Spring in March or early April, our runners would be out in scores, training for the great event. You had to stay off the Campus till it was day, but there were roads and trails through the woods behind the Loyola grounds up to and through Cote-St-Luc where you could run to your heart’s content. Amateur coaches, like Ned and Frank Kearns, would give their services free to bring along to their peak the young enthusiasts. Most of the parents and their ‘“‘cousins and their sisters and their aunts” would be on hand to cheer the lads along. And a good time would be had by all. There are many other things, persons, and places I should recall and write about, but my object was to give a glimpse of the Loyola I knew and loved from 1916 to 1920. True, I was back here teaching in 1929-30 but that will have to be another chapter. You will note, Jim, I have not made any comparisons with the Loyola of today. Like all living things, it had to grow, evolve, fit into new patterns. That’s right, that’s fine. We are all for growth and development, but perhaps a little remembrance is in order of what it grew from; a little savouring of the fragrance of pastoral days in Arcady. Boug Cas pisieueriereilaes Henry Francis Douglas Smeaton ry 4 Panels “Grad Who Got the Mostest From Loyola” by Andy O’Brien °31 It seemed incredible. 1971 — and 40 years since our graduation from Loyola. Nineteen of us had gathered at the University Club, swapping exaggerated tales of our days and nights together so very long ago. One of us had made a million dollars. We had a Jesuit, we had lawyers, doctors — even a newspaperman. But as the lies grew thin and the chatter lessened, we got to talking about those who had gleaned the most from Loyola. People such as that late beloved Governor General Georges Vanier were naturally mentioned, only to be dropped from the topic. After all, no matter how much Loyola must have helped him, becoming army general had to be something of a boost, what ? Finally we could only agree on one person as the “‘grad who got the mostest”: Pedro R. Suinaga y Lujan. Education, particularly classical higher education, is often criticized these days as having little practical value — ‘So your mind’s been well trained” they say, “with things that you can’t remember and nobody else cares about ! What good is that ? ” This makes the case of Pedro, who was fed the old-fashioned stuff, all the more intriguing. He truly demonstrated the possible attainments of a sincere student who is willing to reach out for what is there. In 1920, when Pedro enrolled at the Loyola College High School, his experience with English was limited to Mexico City’s elementary school system. Six years later he had become one quarter of the Loyola team that won Canada’s intercollegiate debating championship. 20 Not only did he have complete command of the language, but his Mexican heritage had injected his speech with a dynamic quality that made listening a delight. He was also rather a hotshot academically, graduating magna cum laude. What’s more, Pedro decided to take up football. True, he had never even seen a game of our bashing version of soccer. True, he weighed only 138 pounds and stood five feet, six and one-half inches. But so what if you can kick the ball with either foot ? That peculiar skill, of course, had been developed in kid soccer play down Mexico way, but as Pedro saw it, the ambidextrous ability would help him adjust to tacklers coming from either direction. He figured it right, of course, and was permanently recorded across the street among the first ten inducted to the Loyola Sports Hall of Fame. By way of proving that brains and brawn can go together in education, Suinaga’s name had been a unanimous choice of the selection panel. The citation commented that he starred on the 1922 team which copped the Canadian junior intercollegiate title and, in 1923, both the intercollegiate and (then) Dominion Championships. It was in a losing playof game though, on Nov. 1, 1924, against Queen’s University at Molson Stadium in Montreal that he established a Canadian record with what the Montreal star described as “‘the longest drop kick ever.” For the benefit of those younger folk who came in late on the football scene, the ball used to be fatter — not so pointed. The kicker would drop it to the ground and time his kick so that foot connected with ball while it was momentarily poised on end. In other words, the booter was making like kicking a field goal with nobody holding the ball. In the case of this record kick, Loyola scrimmaged from the Queen’s 50-yard line. Suinaga received the ball directly from the centre, some 12 yards back of the scrimmage line and took two steps forward before kicking from a spot between 50-yards (mid-field) and 60 yards out. The kick went all the way, bouncing off the crossbar and over for three points. Later he attempted another drop kick — from 50 yards out — that went wide of the uprights but bounced to deadline for a single. He kicked all five points as Loyola lost, 10-5. In 1926, equipped with the Bachelor of Arts degree which so many kids regard as meaningless today, Pedro’s mind was tuned for the world ahead. He returned to Mexico City to study law at the National School of Jurisprudence. As a veteran sports editor, I like to stress the importance of blending brain and brawn in building men. In Pedro’s case the sport bug had bitten and he was restless with books alone. There was no Canadian version of football being played in Mexico so he returned to the soccer of his teen days. Typically, he devoted such energy to it that he became captain of the 1928 Mexican Olympic soccer team.

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In response to a request from the yearbook staff, for information concerning Loyola 50 years ago, Rev. Henry Smeaton was kind enough to send this letter: Mr. Jim MacDonald Dear Jim, I did not know Old Loyola on Drummond Street, except for an occasional visit to see Bill McGee or the three McGarr’s or the Lyon’s brothers, who had all done their primary school with me at Notre Dame College where Brother Andre was still Porter and St. Joseph’s Oratory was only a little tin and wood construction on the mountain side. I took my matriculation exams at McGill in 1916 from Catholic High. That was the year the New Loyola opened, the Loyola you know at almost the western end of Sherbrooke Street. I came in 1916. The grounds were just about the same size as now, but there were only three buildings. Two were complete — the present High School, without the recent addition, and the Refectory Building. The Administration Building on Sherbrooke Street was two stories high with end wings of one storey. And in the whole place there were two hundred and twenty five students. It was during World War II that it reached four hundred and a holiday was given for its startling growth. I don’t want to ramble too much, Jim, but Montreal itself was a completely different sort of place. When I first went to school, we lived at No. 17 Northmount Avenue in the Village of Northmount. Its boundaries were the Cemetery Fence, Decelles Avenue, Maplewood Avenue, Bellingham Road. All that is now the University of Montreal. In the winter we bob-sledded, tobogganed and skied over the trails on the mountain side. None of the streets were paved, but there wasn’t much traffic. The sidewalks were fine springy wood. In fact the first extended motor drive I had was on a rather splintery wooden road, the King Edward Highway heading south towards New York State. Cote des Neiges Village, the west side of Decelles was almost completely French speaking. My sister, my brother (both living) and I learned French by osmosis as did anybody else who didn’t actively oppose it. After that, French in school was an introduction to a new literature and the marvelous precision of French Grammar. Education was different. As far as I can judge, looking back a good number of the kids I knew in the Cote des Neiges just quit after grade school. But remember 1916 was the very heart of World War I. The war factories were clamouring for willing workers. My own first summer job was time keeper at Peter Lyall’s munition plant about where the tennis courts are near the Q.E. Hospital and the youngsters who left school then became the skilled machinists and mechanics of the twenties. But back to Loyola. In my four years there, I had only one lay teacher, a Mr. Savoie, who taught French and Mathematics. There were two other laymen in Prep classes (pre High School). All the rest of the teachers were Jesuits. I remember some years ago ata dinner at Dr. Roland Viger’s home that Dr. Neil Feeney said that three of those Jesuits were among the best teachers he had had in his life. And remember Neil knew some of the greatest in the world at McGill, Johns Hopkins and the Leahy Institute. These were Father D. Lema, Joseph. Keating and Edward de la Peza. I’d agree with him but would add that I was fortunate enough to have superb teaching also at Notre Dame and at Catholic High. There were some bright boys around. Probably the one that has most effectively proved himself to be an intellectual star of the first magnitude was and is Bernard Lonergan. At the last count, apart from his earned degrees, he has, I think, some thirteen honorary ones. And his published works, though like St. Paul’s somewhat difficult to understand, are indeed rated of monumental importance. Bernie wasn’t here many weeks before his peers had nicknamed him “Brains” Lonergan. He did his High School in two years, being regularly promoted at Christmas time to a higher class to keep him interested. The amazing thing about Lonergan to me was that as the years rolled on he became a harder and harder worker. I saw him do it and his books and long teaching career prove it. I’m glad, Jim, you asked me to say a word or two about Father Lonergan’s youthful years at Loyola, because this year is his Jubilee Year (fifty years) in the Order. I attended the celebration at Regis College in Toronto last September. One of his younger brothers, Father Greg. Lonergan, S.J. preached the sermon at the Jubilee Mass. It was an amazing performance. I have never before seen a very sophisticated congregation or audience so swept along in enthusiastic applause. It was not only a great tribute to Bernie, but a clear proof that genius in the Lonergan clan is not confined to Bernie alone. The three Lonergan Brothers, Bernie, Greg and Mark, from Buckingham, Quebec, were all at Loyola and Mark’s children kept up the fine tradition. The curriculum was the typical classical college course. There were no options. You took Latin, Greek, French, English, Mathematics, Chemistry, Physics. I know that the Science men of today would, with good reason, smile at the Science courses prescribed then. But it is interesting to note that the oldest living graduate of Loyola, Leo Lynch, is an Engineer. And, looking back now as he did when Father Breslin and I went to visit him, he seemed to have been well-prepared for his professional career. Essentially, it was an eight-year course, and when you came to Loyola you were in College, whether you were in Rudiments or in Philosophy. The High School division as a more or less separate entity came I believe in the early twenties. But at least up until that time, if you were a sufficiently good baseball player, you played on the College team. And so with hockey, football, running, swimming, tennis. Certainly Gerald (Irish) Lonergan from Quebec City, no kin of the ones from Buckingham, was playing Senior Amateur Hockey with the best in Montreal and with the fabulous Sons of Ireland of Quebec City before he reached what we could call College years today. Incidentally, those of us that saw him play in those days consider him the greatest hockey player that ever played for Loyola. One who played with him told me that it was only when Bobby Orr came along that he saw again in perfection the moves that “Irish” Lonergan made fifty and more years ago. To show the class of hockey that Loyola was playing at that time (1916-17) they were invited to ice a team in the City League. This was the Senior Amateur League in Montreal. They played ten games, won seven, lost two and drew one, for a total of 15 points. They beat Shamrocks twice, McGill once; the 224th Battalion twice; Laval twice; National once. They won the Desey Cup and the Dandurand Cup. In a play-off with the Stars of the Montreal League, Loyola won in overtime 5 — 4. In Exhibition Games, Loyola lost to the New York Americans in New York; won from Dartmouth College; lost to Sons of Ireland of Quebec City for the Art Ross Cup. Harry Hyland, professional player with the Wanderers, was the Loyola Coach. Harry died within the last two years. I had the honour of giving the sermon at his funeral Mass. He was a life-long friend of Loyola.

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In 1930 he was named to the Mexican World Cup soccer team but his father, rancher-businessman José Suinaga Arias, died and his mothe r told Pedro “It is time you stopped kicking a ball and concentrate on your new law degree.” Pedro, an obedient son, stopped kicking a ball but, he adds, “Luckily, my mother said nothing about hitting a ball with a club.” He found that golf and legal business blended serenely. Golf trophies began accumulating. He managed a six handicap and knocked on the championship door several times. He became President of the Mexican Golf Association. During this period he proudly negotiated and signed a tri-partite agreement with the Royal Canadian Golf Association and the United States Golf Association for biennial matches among teams of the three nations. He married an ex-athlete, beautiful Luz de Lourdes Lanz Duret Sierra. They had a daughter and two sons, all of whom married and (at last count) made Pedro a grandfather 13 times over. 21 In 1965, Pedro returned to Canada — this time with the awesomely formal tag: “His Excellency Pedro R. Suinaga y Lujan, Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, Mexican Embassy, Ottawa.” Translated freely, he had become Mr. Mexico in Canada. As the head-of consulates in Toronto, Vancouver and Montreal, and honorary consulates in Winnipeg and Quebec City, his basic job, as stressed by President Gustavo Diaz Ordaz, was to ‘“‘sell”” Mexico t o Canada and foster good relations — also, of course, while doing all he could to encourage the multi-million dollar trade flow between the two countries. It was fun for us who had known the pre-dignified Pedro to bait His Excellency at affairs of state and posh dinners. Casual criticism of such Mexican pastimes as the bullfight would cause Pedro to rise in wrathful defence of the “savage sport”. He looked upon this centuries-old spectacle as tauromachy, an art, rather than a sport. One night over a third Scotch and water he blasted at me: “The Anglo-Saxon and American appreciation of life, in a sense, is limited. We find among the arch-critics of such an art men who ride behind the hounds in high society to chase a wee fox to its death. We find alleged sportsmen who shoot a timid deer and leave it to die slowly in lonesome hiding. We find a beauteous milady donning, without hesitation, mink slaughtered to adorn her. What else, she will ask, is a mink for ? We of Mexico come right back about 1200 pounds of seething bull fury and ask what else is a fighting bull for ? ” During the intervening years Pedro made two memorable trips to Loyola. Just as his father had done with him when Pedro first came up to Loyola (then five and one-half days by train), Pedro brought his eldest son, Pedro Junior (this time by plane) for registration at the old alma mater. A year later he followed the same procedure with his second son, Pablo. Both have long since graduated from Loyola, going on for law degrees and now practicing in the firm of Suinaga Luna. The addition of his sons gave senior partner Pedro time to author three books on Mexican Jurisprudence. He was appointed to the Board of Governors of the Mexican Bar Association and, for 15 years, lectured in law at the National University of Mexico. How, I once asked, did this faraway Mexican boy come to Loyola in the first place. Pedro replied: “My father thought it would be wise for me to study in a foreign country, to become fluent in English as well as Mexican. He also wanted education to include character moulding and felt the Jesuits were the best in the world at this development. Together, my father and I, pondered long and exhaustively over the Jesuit Schools and finally agreed on Loyola and Canada as the happiest combination.” Pedro Suinaga sighed happily: “I have had a golden life thanks to that start. I wonder if the young students of today fully appreciate how vital is the foundation upon which they are building, the importance of what has for so long been proven sound instead of what appeals just because it’s different ? Before accepting what is new, what has been proven good in the old should always be given a fair hearing. Many harsh mistakes may be avoided.”