Page 16 - The Gonzaga Record 1990
P. 16
THE GONZAGA THAT WAS (BEFORE IT'S
TOO LATE)
by Edmund Keane, SJ
When the Editor buttonholed me and asked for a contribution to Th e
Gonzaga Record I knew he was eyeing me as though I were the Last of
the Mohicans, or at least an Endangered Species. I could read hi s intent.
'Here', he was saying to himself, ' is one who has spent forty years in
Gonzaga, is pass ing into hi s anecdotage and possesses a memory that mu st
soon be tapped before it crumbles and snaps with the onset of senescence'.
After a token resistance I consented, but reserving the right to be as
ec lecti c as I lik ed as I wandered back over the years.
I'm not a trained hi storian and my knowledge of hi story is more or
less confined to the B.C. period of Greece and Rome, but in thi s present
task I am greatl y aided by the fact that I've been keeping some kind of
diary of events: thi s, because on my arrival at Gonzaga in 1951 I was
appoint ed its official hi storian. Of course, what you read here is in no
way an attempt to rival that excellent and comprehensive Hi story of
Gonzaga produced by the Record's first Editor, Fr William Lee, in the
first two issues ( 1985 and 1986). This is more an aiml ess ramble than
a determined walk or, to employ an epic simile, I'm a bit like Aeneas
peering at the friezes as he awaited audi ence with Dido and muttering
to himself 'Quae regio in terris non nostri pl ena laboris?'
One other circumstance has been a great help to me in this literary
outpouring. During the years 1955 -5 7 I was inducted into the my steries
of photography by Fr Richard Brenan (now returned to our community)
and for several years after, arm ed with a moderately effici ent camera ,
I snapped away happily, fiddl ed wi th an enl arger and splas hed around
in my 'cell ' with basins of water, developers and fixers. I used to make
numerous copies and sell them at cost of production: a mere 6d would
get you a full -plate souvenir of a team.
I like to think that many of my efforts st ill grace albums and mantel-
pieces all around Dublin . Alth ough I'm no Fr Browne, I feel that this
passing hobby ha s created somethin g of lasting va lu e. Of course, it was
al l in black and wh ite: colour was beyond me.
It is inevitable that in these pages I'll be doing a certain amount of name-
dropping. I know that peopl e in general lik e to see their names in print
- provided th ere's nothing lib ell ous - but, just as when in our entrance
exam we hav e, say, a hundred appli cants and onl y thirty places on offer
and so arc I iab lc to make seventy enemi es, so, I feel , there will be some
em inent Gonzagians wo nd ering why their names don 't appear. I can't
14
TOO LATE)
by Edmund Keane, SJ
When the Editor buttonholed me and asked for a contribution to Th e
Gonzaga Record I knew he was eyeing me as though I were the Last of
the Mohicans, or at least an Endangered Species. I could read hi s intent.
'Here', he was saying to himself, ' is one who has spent forty years in
Gonzaga, is pass ing into hi s anecdotage and possesses a memory that mu st
soon be tapped before it crumbles and snaps with the onset of senescence'.
After a token resistance I consented, but reserving the right to be as
ec lecti c as I lik ed as I wandered back over the years.
I'm not a trained hi storian and my knowledge of hi story is more or
less confined to the B.C. period of Greece and Rome, but in thi s present
task I am greatl y aided by the fact that I've been keeping some kind of
diary of events: thi s, because on my arrival at Gonzaga in 1951 I was
appoint ed its official hi storian. Of course, what you read here is in no
way an attempt to rival that excellent and comprehensive Hi story of
Gonzaga produced by the Record's first Editor, Fr William Lee, in the
first two issues ( 1985 and 1986). This is more an aiml ess ramble than
a determined walk or, to employ an epic simile, I'm a bit like Aeneas
peering at the friezes as he awaited audi ence with Dido and muttering
to himself 'Quae regio in terris non nostri pl ena laboris?'
One other circumstance has been a great help to me in this literary
outpouring. During the years 1955 -5 7 I was inducted into the my steries
of photography by Fr Richard Brenan (now returned to our community)
and for several years after, arm ed with a moderately effici ent camera ,
I snapped away happily, fiddl ed wi th an enl arger and splas hed around
in my 'cell ' with basins of water, developers and fixers. I used to make
numerous copies and sell them at cost of production: a mere 6d would
get you a full -plate souvenir of a team.
I like to think that many of my efforts st ill grace albums and mantel-
pieces all around Dublin . Alth ough I'm no Fr Browne, I feel that this
passing hobby ha s created somethin g of lasting va lu e. Of course, it was
al l in black and wh ite: colour was beyond me.
It is inevitable that in these pages I'll be doing a certain amount of name-
dropping. I know that peopl e in general lik e to see their names in print
- provided th ere's nothing lib ell ous - but, just as when in our entrance
exam we hav e, say, a hundred appli cants and onl y thirty places on offer
and so arc I iab lc to make seventy enemi es, so, I feel , there will be some
em inent Gonzagians wo nd ering why their names don 't appear. I can't
14
