Stories from 'the old days'.

Scroll down to visit the following articles which appeared in earlier
Newsletters about 'the old days':

(1)  The Tradition Continues - about the early days at Holy Cross, Templestowe and the Traditional Monthly Mass which is now in its 38th year.
(2)  Brothers Rugby Union Football Club - by Fr Brian Traynor CP about the Passionists at Holy Cross playing competition Rugby.
(3)  The Mythical Beast of Templestowe - a poem by Br Jeff Daly CP.
(4)  Reminiscences of the Passionists - by Len Attard, a recently retired barrister and a former Passionist student (1961 - 1963).
(5)  Reminiscences of Presentation Retreat, Mary's Mount, Goulburn 1963 - also by Len Attard about his year in the Passionist Novitiate.
(see also: Len Attard's Private Chapel - Click Here).
(6)  Sun Storm - by former student Simon Salter about the Mural in the Dining Room
at Holy Cross. 

(3)   THE MYTHICAL BEAST OF TEMPLESTOWE

 - by Br Jeff Daly CP  -  Circa 1970?

    In this world of legends, of fantasies, of dreams,
    Of Lock Ness Monsters, of Bunyips, and horrifying screams,
    there exists in this atmosphere, a terrifying foe,
    "That Mythical Beast of Templestowe."

    In the hearts of some older men, (Who's memory sound!)
    This ferocious, destroying beast is found,
    Consuming the hearts, souls and mind,
    Of the poor seminarians and all of their kind.

    The face of this monster is never in view,
    And the description of the same is very vague too,
    But nevertheless it is there without doubts,
    Turning our young men from "Catholics" to louts.

    But the young men departing our place in the south,
    Seem to be learned in mind and with mouth,
    As they preach with zeal, with fervour and prayer.
    To the outsider it seems the beast is not there.

    The teaching of the beast are filled with fear,
    For they allow us to think and come very near
    To a God of Love, dear to our mind,
    A sort of a Vatican Council kind.

(4) Leonard Attard, a former Passionist student (1961 – 1963), has been prompted by recent articles in our Newsletter about ‘the old days’ and has submitted his own ‘Reminiscences of the Passionists’. After leaving the Passionists, Len worked as a Court (Shorthand) Reporter during which time he studied law .He then  practiced as a Barrister for 4 years and later took up an appointment as a Crown Prosecutor, acting as Counsel to the Director of Public Prosecutions NSW.

 Reminiscences of the Passionists.

 I left school at the Intermediate Certificate (Year 10) St Mary’s Cathedral Christian Brothers in 1957. Over the years I felt a calling to the priesthood but in 1961, after 4 years working on the NSW Government Railways, I began considering various religious orders.  I regularly visited a Franciscan, Fr Kiernan OFM at Waverley and a Sacred Heart father at Kensington.

 In mid-1961 I took a trip through New South Wales, Victoria, Tasmania, South Australia and Queensland, mostly by train.  In Adelaide I visited St Paul’s Retreat and met Bro. Richard C.P. (as he then was), now Fr Peter McGrath C.P.  He took me on a tour of the Monastery and gave me a brief insight into the daily life there.  I think it was that evening that I decided to try and join the C.Ps.

 On my return to Sydney I met up with the Vocation Director, Fr Bernard (Kenny) C.P Shortly thereafter I entered St Ives (Pius X Retreat).  This was a whole new world to me.  Fr Brendan (Patterson) C.P was the Director of Students and he left quite an impression upon me.  Fr Stephen (Sleeth) C.P was the rector, and Fr Louis (Tom Earls) C.P and Fr Mark (Nugent) C.P taught. I later discovered the surnames of the various religious but in those days I only ever knew each by his religious name.

Although I was 18 when I first went to St Ives I did not know the term "double adaptor".  One day in 1961 Fr Stephen asked me to go into another class room and bring back a double adapter.  I was too embarrassed to ask (in a style many years later exemplified by Pauline Hanson), "please explain".  I left the class room replete with confidence and searched in vain in the next class room for an item containing two features.  All I could find was an electric heater with two bars. Only those who knew Fr Stephen could view the imagery I might attempt to convey.  He looked dumbfounded and incredulous at the electric heater I handed to him saying something like, "Good God man; good God!!!  A double adaptor, a double adaptor."

 At St Ives there was an elderly gentleman, Mr Carroll, who resided in the room near the stairwell.  Two of the students (Mick Ryan and David McFarlane) told me that he was the man who murdered St Maria Goretti and was doing penance at the Retreat.  I believed them --- until, one day, I heard his broad Irish brogue. Much later, during my office of looking after him when he became ill, I came upon him one morning and found him dead in his room.  He was lying face down on the floor.  I had never seen a dead person before. His face was twisted and contorted. I ran to Fr Brendan and said, “Father, its Mr Carroll.  I think he’s unconscious.”  I later often wondered why I described him as unconscious when he was obviously very dead; it must have been the shock.  Only those who remember Fr Brendan might imagine the demeanour and inflection in his reply, “Unconscious?  Mate, he’s as dead as a doornail.”

 The nurse who sometime called in at the Retreat, attended to Mr Carroll and laid him into his bed. Fr Brendan told me that she suggested that the boy who found him should see him in a state of peaceful repose.

 Fr Bernard laboured so well as Vocations Director that 1962 witnessed a record year for Passionist vocations.  Those in that class included Michael Bracks, John Humphries, Lex Keys (Fr Lex C.P.), John Etheridge (later Bishop Etheridge C.P.), Peter Hummell, Bill Grattan , Ray Reid, Gerry Wall and a cast of so many more.  Gerry Wall (who retired a few years ago as a police sergeant) possessed a peculiar knack of devising nick-names , viz., ‘Colgate’ to one who had buck teeth; ‘Rover’ to John Cleary, ‘Father’ to one Robert Howe who adopted a demeanour of overly mature self-confidence and spoke with knowledge on everything.  Once we enjoyed a ‘gaudeamus’ (picnic day) at Manly beach.  During our ‘clowning about’, and oblivious to others within earshot,  and forgetting the large seminary (St Patrick’s) up on the hill, we probably caused a few heads to turn when addressing Bob Howe as “Father”, passers-by probably believing that he was a priest.

 John Etheridge had been an electrician.  The light switch to my room was faulty, sometimes giving a slight electric shock to the touch and sometimes simply not working.  I asked John if he could fix it and he said he would.  The next time I used it, it worked perfectly.  I thanked him.  He commenced to speak just as the bell sounded for the evening silence.  He paused.  Later that night the switch was back to its cantankerous self.  The next morning after silence I said words to the effect, “Well, there’s something wrong with the switch again.”  John replied that that is what he was about to tell me just as the bell sounded; that he had not had a chance to attend to it yet. Even then, in his very first year with the CPs, John Etheridge was a true Passionist.         Len Attard.

Reminiscences of the Passionists:

    – by Len Attard,  Part 2.

In 1962, a theological student at St Patrick’s Manly caused a slight stir during a segment in Moral Theology, during which the Manly professor referred to the period of gestation.  A student replied, "But it is not always nine months, is it?"  The professor replied, "Well, no not always; it may be even eight and has been know even at seven months."  The student persisted, "But it can be five months."  To which the professor replied, "No, no."  The student replied, "Well, with respect I beg to differ.  And I know because my sister gave birth five months after her wedding.  So I know that it can be five months."

 By the time students reached Manly, they would have already sat their Leaving Certificate and completed three years philosophy at Springwood.  They would normally be at least 20.  There was no connection between Manly students and St Ives students (C.Ps) but news of this extraordinary event reached St Ives and so Fr Stephen (Sleeth) CP considered that if it could occur in the case of a Manly student, having by that stage already studied three years philosophy and was looking to ordination, well, it could certainly happen at St Ives where some students entered straight from school and were younger than 20. So, Fr Stephen called in the entire student body into a large class room to correct, in advance should it recur at St Ives, the Manly episode and delivered a ‘birds and bees’ lecture.

 At the end of 1962 just before we went home for the Christmas vacation, the students put on an end-of-year concert.  Not surprisingly, the teaching staff was bucketed in skit after skit.  The one which has endured in my memory is David McFarlane's (from South Australia) excellent delivery of a 'school master's' admonition to the students as to expected conduct over the vacation, and an announcement of the identity of teachers and their subjects in the following year, including Latin and French. He then said, "And next year Fr Stephen will be taking Russian."

He paused momentarily sufficient for the audience to marvel on the mystery of any possible relevance of Russian to our vocation.  After the pause, he exclaimed, to laughter which almost brought down the roof, "Rushin’ here, rushin’ there, rushin’ everywhere."

To supplement their income, the brothers at St Ives set up a wholesale duck industry, which developed into a very large business.  The ducks had a twelve week cycle.  At twelve weeks they were slaughtered, feathered and presented in hygenically packaged plastic bags for delivery to our customers - usually restaurants. One of the brothers, in all good faith came up with a fancy-sounding French name for the enterprise, but when it was discovered that the name had a double meaning, it was changed to ‘Trés Bon Poultry’.

(5)

Reminiscences of Presentation Retreat, Mary’s Mount, Goulburn, 1963 (or The Class of '63).                                                                                                                    - by Len Attard                    Whether spoken in jest, or calculated to impress students throughout the Juniorate formation at St Ives, there was an impression upon the students to entertain a degree of awe of the Novitiate and the ever-present ogre - the Novice Master - the man who would make soldiers of us in the army of Christ.  However, I found the Novice Master in 1963, Fr Domenic CP, a very caring and holy man.  The Novice Vice-Master (in short Vice Master – the joke being that he ‘mastered’ or controlled his ‘vices’) was Fr Columban CP (Fr Brian Gleeson CP).  Initially, I think the novices (the class of ’63) considered that they could twist him round their collective little fingers all the more so as it was his first term as Vice Master; but his mild manners betrayed a strong personality. 

The class of ’63 consisted of Ken Green , me, Ray Reid, Peter Hummel, John Humphries, David McFarlane, Michael Ryan , Michael Sexton, Warren Elms, and Bill Tonks.  Bill was the last to enter and, thus, became the junior.   He was, however, about 35 or 37 years, and used to boast that he must be the oldest junior Passionist novice in the world. The outgoing class of ’62 consisted of six, the sole current survivor being Fr Aidan Kay C.P. 

The rector at the Novitiate, Fr Leo Fitzpatrick C.P was very quickly nick-named Fr Tex because of his tall, imposing and lean figure coupled with the way that his belt hung from his waist just like a Texan’s gun belt.  Fr Leo was always so swift with a riddle or a joke.  When he discovered that I had been a junior clerk with the Railways he asked if I had heard about the passenger at Town Hall station who presented herself in the queue and, when it was her turn, merely said, “Mary Smith, married.” He allowed the comedian’s pause for his listener to puzzle and ask the obvious question, to which Fr Leo said: “She replied to the railway clerk, ‘well, the lady in front of me said ‘Alice Springs, single’ and you served her with a ticket.”

Our clothing ceremony, or reception of the habit, was full of symbolism.  Each student, dressed in civilian clothes, removed his coat and lay prostrate on the chapel floor.  The Passionist black mantle was placed over him, symbolising a dying to the world.  He later rose and was presented with a lighted candle which signified a re-birth in Christ and the taking of a new name and title in religion.  In 1963 we were permitted to choose a name which, if approved by the Provincial (then Fr Charles Corbett C.P) would thereafter be our religious name.  In Fr Columban’s novitiate year, novices had no choice of name; it was merely chosen for them. 

After the declaration of the religious name, we were ‘clothed’ in the Passionist habit.  There was the traditional singing of the Veni Creator Spiritus which, in combination with the rich symbolism of each progressive facet of the ceremony, proved too much for me and I succumbed to the ‘water works’.  Fr Bonaventure C.P., very much of the Celtic/Saxon genre, afterwards expressed some amusement of the episode.  I took some comfort from an observation of Fr Brendan (Patterson) C.P. who, in describing his own emotive tendency, quoted St Augustine to the effect that:  “It is better to weep and have a heart of flesh than to refrain and have a heart of stone.”  

I have, more than once, unsuccessfully attempted to locate that passage in the writings of St Augustine. 

To balance rising for the night office (Matins and Lauds) at 1.50am to be ready to commence chanting in the chapel at 2.00am, we observed a one-hour  siesta  between, I think, 1.30 to 2.30 pm  I initially experienced difficulty resting at that time of day.  At recreation one evening I made a ‘blindfold’ (similar to the type supplied by some airlines to passengers to keep light out of their eyes.) As he watched my amateurish attempt, Peter Hummel asked what on earth I was doing.  My explanation of a patch to keep light out of my eyes brought howls of laughter from Peter.  About three days later at evening recreation Peter was making a ‘blindfold’.   We looked at each other and laughed. 

Fr Columban (Brian Gleeson) was learning to drive and discovering that I was a licensed driver, he arranged for periodical driving experience with me in the front passenger seat as the licensed driver.  He was, and probably still is, a perfectionist.  He insisted on perfecting each driving manoeuvre before progressing to the next.  One afternoon he worked on hill starts and reversing into a parking spot.  He insisted on completing three consecutive perfect manoeuvres.  On one rear parking he, ever so slightly, clipped the front parking light of the vehicle behind ours.  Of course, we had to identify and contact the owner.   

It turned out to be a lady in a block of units beside the parked vehicle.  He was dressed in his clerical suit and I in civilian clothes. She answered a knock at her door.  Fr Columban said words to the effect, “I understand the [type of vehicle] outside is yours.  I am afraid I have some bad news for you.”  I doubt she heard the preamble about her vehicle, but appeared most apprehensive about the ‘bad news’.  When Fr Columban told her about the damage, she almost collapsed with relief saying, words to the effect, “Oh is that all!!!  Heavens, when I saw your collar I thought my mother in the nursing home had passed away.”  She then invited us into the unit and entertained us with tea and biscuits. 

On another occasion, there was a religious ceremony in the Cathedral in Goulburn.   Fr Domenic decided that we ought to attend but not in habits and certainly not in sandals as it was mid-winter and, after all, what might people think!  Some days after the ceremony, Fr Domenic (who had attended in his clerical suit) learned that some ladies in the congregation that day were very impressed by the well-groomed, well-behaved and fine upstanding group of young men and wondered who they might be.  They were just the type mothers pray that their daughters would bring home to meet the parents! 

Novices took it in turns to perform various routine tasks such as ringing the ‘rattle’ to wake the community at 1.50am for Matins and Lauds.  When a novice undertook this task for the first time, he would be shown its peculiar procedure by the novice before him who, in turn, was shown by the novice before him.  Towards the end of my first turn at waking the community, I was showing Bro Vincent (John Humphries) the procedure.  After walking down the dormitory corridors ringing the “rattle” (which sounded like loud rapid fire from an automatic high calibre infantry weapon), John and I proceeded to the long corridor to the chapel to open it and turn on the lights et cetera.  As we proceeded closer to the chapel, a man ran from the sacristy into the chapel.  John and I stopped in shock and looked at each other in quasi incredulity.  By the time we reached the chapel the man had disappeared.  Of course the police were called and Fr Thom Bonaventure C.P. enjoyed the excitement. 

Over the ensuing week, while Fr Domenic (Morris) C.P was away giving a mission, other odd incidents attracted attention- noises were heard, items seemed to be missing.  A notable missing item was a wonderfully-carved white marble plaque commemorating the erection of a dry stone wall at the rear of the refectory.  The only available rational conclusion was that the plaque had been deliberately removed by human intervention – stolen!  The plaque was simply inscribed “Novices 1961” in a lovely Gothic script. The wall was truly a work of art by ‘builders’ (the class of ’61) with plenty of time and for whom the construction was a labour of love. The class of ’61 was composed of  Joseph Furst (now Fr Joe CP), James Kerrigan, Frederick Carey (Fr Vianney C.P), Gary Crothers, Peter Salmon, Paul Merceica (Fr Paul CP), James Macklin, John Waters, Gary Vidler, Dennis Fisher and Myles Hannan.  

Given the combination of odd incidents, the novices proposed to Fr Columban (Brian Gleeson CP) that we should keep watch, in pairs, of the monastery grounds one night.  Of course, we would each be armed with a wooden club either for protection or to subdue the ‘prowler’ as ‘he’ came to be known.  Initially, Fr Columban was reluctant but somehow we persuaded him, against his better judgment, to permit the proposed covert surveillance/citizens’ arrest operation. 

Considerations of potential litigation of being sued by an injured trespasser did not loom large on the Australian psyche in 1963.  To be sure I think Fr Columban probably had other considerations in mind (i.e., other than the prospect of being sued) when he impressed upon us that, if it became essential to strike the ‘prowler’, then we should exercise extreme caution both as to the force to be used and the location of the impact especially to the head. After about three very cold post midnight hours outside in the Goulburn climate, we reported to Fr Columban that the ‘prowler’ did not appear that night. 

The secret of the missing plaque was revealed when Fr Domenic C.P returned the following week, Father commenting about the ‘mice’ playing when the ‘cat’ was away.  He had removed the marble plaque without telling anyone as he left in some haste for the mission. He removed the plaque because he considered, consistent with traditional thinking at the time, that one class of novices should not be represented or held out to be superior or more memorable than another. 

In preparation of the Easter ceremonies, Fr Domenic C.P assigned various tasks to the novices; and I was to be the M.C.  Father supplied me with three large tomes on Church Rubrics to study.  As the days passed by I began to panic at the amount of information to be digested and, furthermore, how could I possibly remember all the material?  I constantly resorted to a dictionary to look up terms such as “silver salver”.  I made copious notes which I progressively reduced to less and lesser pages.  Eventually, I reduced all the notes to a piece of cardboard 10.5cm x 7.5 cm filled with tiny handwriting, both long and shorthand and dissected into sections and chronologically numbered.  (A couple of years ago I came across the card in a shoebox.  As it was written in pencil it is barely legible.) 

The Easter Vigil and ceremonies went off very well but …. I cheated (or so I considered).  I had placed the cardboard notes in between the two layers of my black belt and I could remove them from time to time, without being observed, and cast my eyes downwards surreptitiously to glance at the notes to refer to the next process in the ceremony.  The priests were amazed at my apparent knowledge of the rubrics and I later received much commendation.  However, after a few days it played on my conscience and I confessed the truth to Fr Phillip (Brosnan) CP whose laughter must have been heard from the confessional.  He assured me that what I did was not “cheating”, and to thank God for my shorthand skill and the perspicacity and wherewithal of the idea. 

Fr Phillip C.P was considered to be a very holy man.  We were told that when he was a student there was a concern that he would not be able to continue with his studies for the Passionist priesthood because of his severe dyslexia.  How wrong could be the fears of humankind:  he progressed to be the most sought-after preacher in the Australian Province. 

I caused a second episode of laughter from Fr Phillip in the confessional.  In 1963 the novices were accommodated in the then new wing.  The floors were concrete with a linoleum covering.  Upon rising for the night office, particularly in winter, sandals felt like a block of ice.  I commenced a practice of wrapping up my sandals in an old pair of trousers and placing them on a chair and off the floor.  That alleviated the cold impact upon contact with warm feet. However, after an interval it played on my conscience that this was not in the spirit of St Paul and was, somehow, wrong.  When I “confessed” this to Fr Phillip he roared with laughter and gave me a little homily on scruples. 

There was a tradition for Goulburn Catholics to attend the Good Friday Stations of the Cross at the Passionist Fathers at Mary’s Mount.  Fr Domenic Morris CP assigned chores to the novices in advance of the day.  He assigned to me the task of cleaning the 14 Carrara Marble Statues - (now located in the Sacred Garden at St Paul’s, Glen Osmond). I became intimately acquainted with their construction as I cleaned each especially getting in between the digits of each finger and toe with a tooth brush. 

In Lent and Advent Passionists in those days observed days of fasting.  Fasting meant a little less but, principally, abstinence from meat.  Bro. Stanislaus C.P (Bro ‘Stan’ who is now at Marrickville) used to prepare a delicious substitute, creamed rice with either prunes or peaches.  To me this was a delicacy every mouthful of which I greatly relished. I did not like meat anyway and I used to secretly look forward to ‘fast days’.  Many years later I discovered why I did not like meat.  My family were so poor that whatever meat we had, it was always the cheapest and so, had the texture of leather.  To observe the spirit of Lent, I took less. 

The Italian origins of our Congregation were reflected in one of the culinary traits, certainly in 1963 – cheese at dinner’s end.  A novice would offer to each religious in the refectory a board upon which was a lump of cheese and a knife.  One day as I cut into the cheese, the handle broke off with the downward pressure of the cutting motion.

Part of the spiritual practices in 1963 was ‘making Culpa’, i.e., the public declaration to the senior priest of a fault in the presence of the assembled community in the refectory at the evening meal. The recitation of culpa followed a set formula, the suffix of which concluded with, “ … especially for …”  In my case, it concluded with, “…especially for breaking a knife” which at that time was strung with cord worn round my neck, and that evening it was before Fr Leo (Fitzpatrick) C.P who was the rector in 1963.  Fr Leo was always one for some mirth, and he seemed to resist the temptation to say or do something but then asked, “How on earth did you do that, Brother?”  I replied, “Cutting a piece of cheese, Father.”  To which Fr Thom Bonaventure C.P, who sometimes benignly joked about the European-ness of the Congregation, responded with laughter.

There was one practice I found most ‘moving’ in Lent and Advent.  On one day, immediately after lunch the novices would proceed to the corridor leading to the chapel, kneel and recite “Of your charity, pray for this poor sinner” as the rest of the community of priests and brothers proceeded to the chapel.  In the evening, the novices would repeat the process but this time lay prostrate as the community proceeded past.

On the other day in the season, it was the priests and brothers who would practice that procedure.  Each time I walked past the priests and brothers, whether kneeling or lying prostrate before me, I always felt most humbled.  No doubt, to the ‘progressivists’  in the Conciliar Church of the modern day (to adopt a term first used by Archbishop Benelli in his ultimatum to Archbishop Lefebvre) such ‘mediaeval’ practices would be considered befitting dinosaurs.  But whilst times may change, people do not, and I am supremely confident in predicting that the Church will one day return to the traditional “Faith of our Fathers”. Furthermore, I know many Sydney barristers and judges who would benefit immeasurably by participating in such ‘mediaeval’ practices.

Another practice which would, no doubt leave progressivists in an apoplexy of self-righteous incredulity is the then penitential practice of the discipline which was introduced into the Rule by St Paul of the Cross.  It was the Lental practice of hitting oneself on the rear, with a small implement made of string or cord while reciting five times, the Hail Mary, Glory Be and Our Father.  I never knew the recitation of these prayers could be said so quickly! One morning at the start of our lessons, Fr Domenic told us that the previous evening, just after the novices commenced the discipline, he answered an unexpected call at the front door.  The visitor, once in the front parlour, asked what the noise was, to which Fr Domenic replied, “Oh, the novices are doing some exercise.”

During a season when we practiced penitential fasting there occurred one or two, or perhaps three, feast days in 1963.  Co-incidentally, just at that point a young man entered to become a brother.  Our ‘juniorate’ frivolity of assigning nick-names did not cease overnight.  This young man was in the style of Friar Tuck – generously proportioned, and we nick-named him “Ralph” after the central character Jackie Gleeson, from a TV series, “The Honeymooners”.  On Feast Days, Bro Stan C.P. always strove to outdo his previous self in preparing and serving up wonderful meals and desserts.  He sometimes even named the desserts, e.g., on one occasion, “Peaches Mons Mariae” (i.e., Peaches Mary’s Mount).  “Ralph” got on well for those two or three days of Feast Days.  However, the next day he simply was not there and we were told that he had left – having formed the belief that every day would be like a Feast Day.

The Novitiate was not all so serious.  For one of the ceremonies, much singing was required.  Fr Columban (Brian Glesson CP) was determined to transform the novices into an ‘angelic’ choir, despite the sad fact that Peter Hummel (Bro. Alexander) possessed the only angelic voice amongst us.  His rendition of the Credo was almost celestial.

Fr Columban spent much time in his transformation of the choir to the day when he recorded our effort on a small recording machine. For those who may not be aware, Fr Columban in those days was partial to the practical joke.  That evening he played it to the priests in the priests’ recreation room initially telling them that it was a recording of the world-famous Solemnes Monks in France.  They believed him!!! (And I am pretty sure that he did not confess that to Fr Phillip - who was probably himself one of the victims who succumbed to the story.)

After the passage of many months we must have abandoned the ‘angelic’ quality of our singing.  Fr Domenic told me that the door to the tabernacle of the high altar (which  currently occupies pride of place in my private chapel) shook from the sound of my basso profundo and that I would need to come up a couple of notes.  To this end he sent me out into the fields to practice hitting higher notes.  Well, the Maltese do not do things by halves and apparently at the next office, sext and none, not even Bro Alexander could match the notes.  Fr Domenic later told us that the Church, “ …not only expects us to live like eunuchs but also to sing like them.”

On 14^th  October, 1963 I turned 21.  For me it was no different from any other day.  At sometime in the afternoon there was a gentle knock at my door.  It was Fr Domenic who later entered saying “Happy birthday, Brother” and placed a piece of paper on my desk.

In 1963 telegrams were a means of communication.  My family did not have a telephone nor did most of my friends.  When a telegram was sent, in the first instance the post office closest to the recipient would, if the intended recipient had a telephone, communicate the contents over the telephone and later deliver the “hard copy”, the physical piece of yellow paper on which was typed the contents of the message.

On the piece of paper, Fr Domenic had written, “Happy 21^st to our darling son and brother.  Mum and Dad, [brother and sisters].”

Some time later, there was another gentle knock at my door followed by the same procedure as before.  This time the message was from friends.

About ten minutes later there was a loud banging at the door.  It was Fr Domenic who later strode into my room and threw down a piece of paper before quickly leaving my room.  On the paper appeared, words to the effect, “To darling Brother Thomas, happy 21^st.  In memory of all those hot, passionate nights with you for which I so long.  Love, Susan.”

I could not wait till recreation time that evening to tell Fr Domenic that I did not know any ‘Susan’ and that it must be a joke from the Goulburn Post Office.  In any event, no confirmation of that third ‘telegram’ ever arrived.  That evening, Fr Domenic appeared in our recreation room armed with a box of soft drinks and lollies with which we celebrated my 21^st.  He also dispensed with the night office.

At Goulburn each year was celebrated the Lilac Festival – or certainly back then.  On one evening, perhaps the closing of the Festival, there was much noise which carried through up to Mary’s Mount, i.e., the Novitiate.  It was my turn to wake the community the following morning at 1.50am.  I woke up about 5.00 am and was most distressed that I had slept through the alarm.  I could not understand how I could have slept through the alarm clock.  However, I noticed that the alarm button had been switched off.  I remonstrated with myself over how that could possibly have occurred.

Later that day the mystery unfolded.  Fr Domenic told us that he decided during the night that due to the noise and kafuffle and consequential lack of sleep in the community, he would dispense with the night office.  He said he had knocked on my door – several times – but was unable to wake me; so, he opened the door, turned on the light, walked up to the clock and turned off the alarm, walked back to the door, turned off the light and left.

Interestingly, he told us that some years earlier someone had proposed that an electronic system of bells be installed to minimise the risk of human failure to rise and thus ensuring that the community would always rise for the night office.  The process of reasoning which decided against the proposal was interesting and ran as follows:  If such a system were installed, that would frustrate the Divine Will which, on some occasions, may decide that the community should sleep in.

I cannot resist repeating a story about Fr Joseph C.P of an event which occurred prior to 1961.  One evening a young woman parishioner at Marrickville called in to the Monastery to obtain documentary evidence in preparation for marriage.  Prior to the compilation of a Baptism Certificate the priest brought out a Parish Register and found the page at which the information was recorded.  He was called away briefly and left the applicant alone in the front parlour with the Register.  Whilst he was away, the applicant looked at the entry and was greatly shocked at what she saw. In the column for the name of the father appeared, “pater ignotus”. The young lady knew enough Latin to know that “pater” meant “father”.  I cannot imagine how “ignotus” could be mistaken for “Joseph” – but it genuinely was by the young lady.  Perhaps the author of the entry missed a vocation and should have become a doctor (the writing must have been that poor).  When the priest returned to the parlour , he encountered a most distressed young lady who, in the interim between the priest leaving the parlour and returning, believed that Fr Joseph C.P. was her real father and that the truth had been concealed from her all those years.

Not one of the class of ’63 made it to ordination though John Humphries (Conf. Vincent C.P.) progressed to the end of his Theology studies, then took twelve months leave of absence and decided not to return.

In my later life as a Crown Prosecutor, most of my working life was spent in the Criminal Courts.  I doubt that any trade, calling or profession could outdo the law and its practitioners in its/their system of bush telegraph.  Like the Biblical story, they seem to hear all things, see all things and know all things.  News of my time in a Monastery did the rounds.  More than once over morning tea in some judge’s chambers have I been asked, “Don’t you think that time in the seminary was a waste of time?”

“A waste of time?”  I ask the questioner what or how they regard my delivery.  Well, I thank the Passionists for voice production lessons.  What or how do they regard my preparation of the case and knowledge of the facts and law:  Well, I thank the Passionists for teaching me how to study.  I ask the questioner how they think I completed a six year law degree in four years part time: Well, I thank the Passionists for teaching me discipline and commitment.  My love of the arts and music particularly the richness of sacred and classical music, I thank the Passionists for that.  Indeed, I would not be who I am today were it not for those three short years with the Passionists and, above all, the discipline of the Passionist Novitiate.

Len Attard.

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Sun Storm – The Carpet Mural at Holy Cross

- Visitors to Holy Cross often ask questions about the Tapestry in the Dining Room and so we asked its artist, SIMON SALTER to explain:

 I joined the Passionists at the beginning of 1978 and left at the end of 1984. When we ate lunch/dinner in the refectory people often commented on how loud it was, with the bare wall and the hard floors. There were probably 30-40 people at Templestowe at the time and Fr Denis Travers kindly considered the option of constructing a carpet mural to assist in ‘noise management’.

 I did most of the mural and any other passing people who showed an interest also made a contribution, particularly Chris McGowan, Tim Horlock and Stephen McGarry. It took about 2 months to construct (maybe more, maybe less). I spent many weeks prior driving around carpet shops getting off-cuts and samples…I was selective in my colours.

 I got the idea of a carpet mural because when I was in high-school in Hobart we got lots of old scraps of carpet and cut them into triangular shapes and glued them to a wall in our common room. That design was fairly abstract (‘design’ being a broad use of the word!). Many of the components of the design of the Templestowe mural are just enlarged components of many of my usual ‘doodles’. I was influenced by artists greater than me when I did the cliffs (I saw a fellow classmate at school once do something similar).

 There is no ‘theme’ as such. It is abstract. I tried very hard to get a notion of perspective – cutting larger carpet pieces with larger/coarser pile for the foreground and smaller/finer carpet for the background. Steve and I often discussed how the simple artistic action of putting carpet on a wall could be dated by people many decades later saying ‘ah, that was done in the late seventies’.  It is interesting to see how such a stamp of a period can be made manifest through me just putting pieces of carpet on a wall. I guess we are all a product of our time much more than we can imagine.

 During construction I scraped back the wall to ensure a secure adhesion of the carpet. I used a marker to mark out the wall for the next section I was going to do. Other students, knowing that the wall was soon to be covered used it as a graffiti board…..some of it not very tasteful! Unfortunately one evening Denis Travers was conducting a tour of the monastery for some dignitaries considering donating to the seminary, and they viewed the partly completed mural with some graffiti not yet covered by the carpet. Denis was furious.

 The glass idea came later towards the end of construction. If I had my way (and budget was not a barrier) I would add three times the amount of glass and make them clear and much longer. I would add more powerful point spot lights to truly refract the light off the glass. The glass was made so that it could be easily taken down and put through the dish washer (have any fallen off??).

 The name ‘Sun Storm’ was Steve’s idea. I thought it was a bit lame, but I was a bit of a rebel then and would have chosen something most likely unsuitable!  - Simon Salter.

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