Please tell your friends the new address for this classmates site is pascalalumni-nyc.net

Along the south end of the school, on 113th Avenue, there was a hedge... and halfway down was the stage entrance to the auditorium... and if you went in there you could go up behind the stage (tall, heavy wine-colored curtains, ropes and pulleys to operate them - definitely a mysterious place)... or you could go into the auditorium, or down the stairs into the basement... 

I walked that way to and from my home on 201st Street, passing the convent door a couple of times every school day, and each time wondering what went on in there.  I didn't know if it would be a good thing or not to get a look inside.  Probably bad news.  Most adults weren't a lot fun and big women in black uniforms ... well, best to stay out here where you can break into a run if you have to. 

What am I saying?  I don't know - just trying to get the juices flowing.  The problem is: I have a pretty poor memory.  Oh sure, I have a picture of the building - the rough brick, the fortress-like top, the schoolyard, the steps into the school and down into the lunchroom.  But right about here it gets pretty hazy.  I really can't recall much about the classrooms or, gawd help me, any of the nuns! (Except, I remember some of them filled the aisles as they walked up and down looking over our work.) 

So, this is where you come in.  It would be great if some of you could "put your thinking caps on" and tell us what you saw from your desk, from your pew, or from your street.  Details would be nice, but please don't worry about writing style (if it is really bad you can always claim it's avant-garde  or stream-of-consciousness)... and if you just squeaked by in the grammar department - not to worry.  We can get one of our volunteer word nerds to straighten it out before it goes online, if you want.  The important thing here is for you to have your say.  I'm sure the little kid that is still inside of you still wants to squirm in your seat, look around that classroom, throw one more spitball or, just for the hell of it, raise your hand and "ask permission to leave the room."  Come on, give it a try - tell us what you remember and send it in.

I for one, want to know what secret stuff you had squirreled away in that schoolbag... or what you were doing in the cloakroom that time when...

'Til we meet again - best wishes,
Frank Fitzgerald
Class of 1/54