St Francis College - Franciscan Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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BROTHER URBAN, O.S.F., President of St. Francis College, and the Most Reverend Bishop of Brooklyn, Bryan J. McEntegart, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, at annual Alumni Dinner. the year in review by tom keller JS y job ' s to report the just passed year, I’m what you’d call a backward seer. To tell what went on about the school A pen or a pencil is my single tool. For this work I shan’t seek the muse Nor other spirits like old Irish booze. Because I’m the kind that seeks aid for knowledge I’ll go no further than the doors of this college. For humor and wit handled with guile What could be better than to ask Brother Giles? A serious note will pervade these refrains; Please Brother Leon, make them safe and yet sane. Whether you’re alone or in a crowd The enjoyment is better if you read this aloud. So onward I go with this ponderous task; Please view with compassion—that’s all I ask. September began with orientation; Freshmen were told of their school’s reputation The official version to them was presented And the sophists thought it daft or demented. Registration came next—speed was the goal; That goal fell flat like pins when you bowl. Then Sargent Slo wer the Peace Corps’ top Spoke to teachers at the Prof Workshop. 6

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what is the death of a teacher? REV. BROTHER COLUMBA, O.S.F. BORN: DECEMBER 29, 1878 DIED: AUGUST 13, 1961 MR. WILLIAM AMANN BORN: FEBRUARY 28, 1913 DIED: JUNE 5, 1961 REV. EDWARD SALERNO, O.F.M. BORN: OCTOBER 13, 1903 DIED: OCTOBER 23, 1961 MR. THOMAS SWEENEY BORN: SEPTEMBER 28, 1915 DIED: JANUARY 6, 1962 The death of few men affects so many as that of a teacher, for few men ' s sphere of influ¬ ence is so vast. A teacher’s influence extends to all three branches of the academic family. The Administration is first to feel the loss of a teacher. It is forced to reconcile itself to the departure of a dedicated aide who has done much to further the principles of the College, to put into effect those precepts for which it was established. The Faculty, closely unified by bonds of mu¬ tual respect, a sense of mutual purpose, temper- ment, scholarship, is most directly affected by the death of a colleague. The constant inter¬ change of ideas is altered by the absence of a man whose advice, learning and friendship had come to be relied upon. But it is the Student Body which suffers the greatest loss. Those who have had the opportu¬ nity to study under him realize the void left when a source of learning and inspiration is withdrawn; they must console themselves with his memory. But to the students of the future belongs the major tragedy, for they will never know what he was, what he would have meant to them, what they themselves have lost. St. Francis has lost four such teachers in the past year. Each was a teacher in the fullest sense of the word, and each will be deeply missed: Father Edward Salerno, Brother Columba, Mr. William Amann, Mr. Thomas Sweeney. Fran¬ ciscan , 1962 , recognizes the immeasurable debt owed to them, and urges that this debt be par¬ tially repaid in the only way now available to us: A prayer that now, after the time of their labor, they may rest forever in peace. 5

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SEPTEMBER Two days in church made a winning retreat; For some those two days ivere quite a feat. This, the last year at the Butler corral, Had some people worried about morale. Students were mooning at an unheard rate; Loving Butler, they bemoaned their fate. But words were used in a better sense To get needed money for the Saint Francis pence; Remsen Street wasn’t bought with nought And money to pay was eagerly sought. Students and Alumni were asked to give To help patch up our financial sieve. They were begged to donate what they could To give what they would as all students should. The final tally well never hear— We guess it was good; we’re down there next year. The first day of class saw the new Dean of Men; We hoped he’d perform with some acumen For cuts ivere something to him very dear And those overcut had plenty to fear. Frank M. was the Council prexy this time; We’d give his last name but it just doesn’t rhyme. Each one of you can spot him like that; He looks like LaGuardia without a hat. The Council’d be lively, not half dead, And those in the know would hear what they said. With Brother Alphonsus the students’ man. We had a powerful faculty fan. With Frank at the helm and Brother to steer, The student body, they could cheer!! We won’t list the leaders of the school; Most ivere quite sharp, some not too cool. In the first week Freshmen were hazed; Some overdid, and feelings were grazed. The Soph-Frosh hop was a real blast As hazing’s ill feeling went into the past. They ponied, twisted, rocked and rolled Dancing the night till curfew tolled. The baseball team won their first game, Nevermore did they do the same; They tried so hard and gave their all But how can you practice with a rubber ball? October’s the month of World Series Pools, Of fraternity dogging, of dogs who are fools. The paddles are hung in frat houses with care In hope that some victims soon will be there. Phi Rho came first, ahead of the rest For hazing’s the thing at which they are best. They brandished their bats high in the air; They use ’em so much they split into pairs. Omega Delta came next on the scene Last but not least—in numbers ive mean. This is the frat like Kennedy’s son, For both have existed in years only one. Lastly, Pi Alpha came out of their mold Wearing their sweaters of black and gold. Descending on all from fraternity house Dogging their pledges like cat and mouse. Does a fraternity pledge in order to cheer Chug-a-lug glasses of eggs and beer? Falsehood’s cried; our frats have virtue; A dog knows well they’d never hurt you. Intramurals began in various sports Like boivling and volleyball and things of that sort. We took to the courts, played chess in the lounge; One thing ivas lacking—equipment to scrounge. The baseball team played their last game A trip to Siena their claim to fame. As was written before, they didn’t do ivell But the fall is just practice—so what the hell. Yearbook group pictures were finally taken Amid much confusion and photographer hatin’; For he’s the guy who’d jostle and move Putting each group in his frame’s little groove. Then, frosh class elections were held and won By a son of old Erin name Gregory Dunn. These frosh ivere learning the college ivay; In three more years, they’d hold sway. The feast of Saint Francis was a day given off; We took to that like a horse to a trough. When the Science Club had a fishing date, They’d little luck using beer as their bait; That’s the bait seniors used as their lure To attract loiver classmen, formerly pure, To visit their dance at St. Thomas Aquinas And observe the state of college highness. A more serious group was the I.R.C. Who invited speakers all wanted to see;