Memories are made of this

MY FIRST DAY

FRIENDS REUNITED

By Bill Fulton (1964), USA

Although my first day at St Aloysius’ College – or John Ogilvie Hall as it was then - was over sixty years ago, it remains clearly fixed in my memory. On my first day in 1956, I was 12 years old and was assigned to the primary school, Ogilvie VI, which was taught by Miss Butler.

I remember how terrified I was that day; all I wanted was to blend in. I felt that way because I was the first American to be admitted to the College; I knew no one and did not want to be different and draw attention to myself. I also knew that Fr Tracey had told my parents that my younger brothers’ admittance to the College would be dependent on how well I did. I was feeling the pressure.

Just two months before the August start of the school year in 1956, my family had moved from the central part of the United States to Glasgow and it was the first time I had been out of my country. My father was with Caterpillar and we were one of 26 families transferred to Scotland to build a new plant near Glasgow.

At the beginning of class that first day, Miss Butler asked each student to stand and introduce himself, and after I had done so while still standing, Miss Butler announced that she did not want any “Americanisms” in her class. Although I did not fully understand her meaning, I was only too aware that it wasn’t positive, and when I told my father he was quite concerned. The next day he met with Miss Butler and they had a positive meeting of the minds.

As the school year progressed, I quickly adapted, made friends, had success and became just one of the boys, albeit with a different accent. Most remarkably I came to love and appreciate Miss Butler. Even after I had moved to the senior school downtown (in Garnethill) and she had retired, we kept in touch and I would occasionally visit her; quite a change from the first hour of the first day. She was one of the most influential teachers I ever had. And yes, my brothers were later admitted to the College.

I have told that story many times over the years, along with other great memories from my five and a half years in the Green Blazer.

In the days before email and Facebook, when Bill Fulton left the College in the January of 1962 to head back to the US with his family, I don’t suppose he expected to see any of his classmates again. However, one of his friends, Gordon MacBride had other ideas. At the tender age of 16, Gordon’s mother bought him a chartered flight return ticket to New York for the princely sum of £65 as he decided to pay a surprise visit, on his own, to Bill and his family in Illinois. Gordon toured parts of North America using Greyhound buses before visiting his school friend and even wrote about it in the College magazine in 1962 saying, “I spent the most enjoyable week I could have wished for. The hospitality shown me by the Fulton family was out of this world.” Although Gordon and Bill stayed in touch after that, there was a gap of 27 years before they met up again in 1989. Bill and Gordon enjoyed sport at the College, and both were very successful on the Rugby field and in Athletics. Recently we were able to reunite Gordon with the Junior Class Challenge Cup which he won at Sports Day in June 1959 and he’s pictured here being awarded the Cup and again in 2016. Bill and Gordon will reunite in the autumn, but for now, at least they have email!

If you have a “My First Day” memory which you would like to share, please email it to: alumni@staloysius.org with “My First Day” in the subject line, or post it to the Development Office, 45 Hill Street, Glasgow G3 6RJ.

ST ALOYSIUS’ COLLEGE REVISITED

By Brian Milton (1962)

It was with surprise, delight and more than a bit of hesitation that I toured the College in the summer of 2016, having last set foot in it in July 1962 on the occasion of my Prince Hal dismissal by Father Phillipson, or Pip as we called him. Gone were the Jesuits that made such a mark on me. “Completed their mission”, I was told, “to create an educated Catholic middle-class in Scotland”. Modesty was never their strong suit! In their stead were new buildings, doubling the size of the old school: a gleaming new Sports Centre being built on the old playground, a Science building across from the fire-damaged Glasgow School of Art, and a separate Music and Art building. There was also a “Refectory” where the old First Year classrooms had been and surprising me most were the girls, lots of girls roaming the halls where only lonely or rambunctious boys had once been. The Assembly Hall-cum-Gym was still there as was the Discipline Master’s office looking out over it; though it had become a less menacing Reprographics Office.

Standards at the College - academic, athletic, obedience, punctuality - were high and punishment was liberal when I was there in the late 50’s and early 60’s. The College was no ordinary school. The discipline of writing weekly essays honed our writing skills, defending the mysteries of the Catholic faith in Apologetics class sharpened our logic and rhetoric, competing boy to boy in all subjects taught us the thrill of winning and labouring for hours every evening and weekend on homework built our stamina. No wonder St Aloysius was always placed in the top ten of national schools in The Bursary exam. And while my time there was less than distinguished, I subsequently found I could handle most challenges rather effortlessly, something I attribute to the years I spent with the Jesuits. The bar was so high that most things afterwards seemed straightforward: completing a doctorate, becoming a Professor, spending twenty years as a business executive and another fifteen as a founding partner in two successful Internet startups. The crowning irony, given my less than stellar performance and youthful rebelliousness, was a task I took late in my corporate career to establish a major educational foundation for the then retiring Prime Minister of Canada. This too I undertook with relish.

A few years after leaving the College I emigrated to Canada followed by a few years later with a stint in the US, then a few years after that a move back to Canada and finally 15 years ago a final return here to California. Each time it was by no means clear what lay ahead but never did I doubt that it would not work out and that life would not be good. Again I attribute that sense of supreme confidence, bordering on recklessness, to my time with the Jesuits, though sometimes I wonder whether it came from the standards of excellence literally drummed into us or the experience of having survived those five tough years.

Sometime in the late sixties, an uncle of mine asked of me whether he should send his sons to the College. My answer was it all depended on what he wanted for his sons. If it was a good education in terms of academic performance then yes, of course he should send them there as there was likely no better school in the country. However, it was incredibly strict, I warned him and if that was a concern then he might want to think twice. I wonder what I would say today? Undoubtedly the standards are still there and, given all the new facilities, may well be even higher. And with the days of the feared ferula now long gone and girls around to cheer up the halls, I’m tempted to believe that the Jesuits did indeed achieve their mission.

REMEMBERING JOHN OGILVIE HALL

We know how much you love a bit of nostalgia, so last year we posted some photos unearthed by Ken Monaghan (1991) on our OA Connect page on Facebook. The photos were taken when John Ogilvie Hall was on the point of closing, and although the empty corridors and classrooms look rather eerie, there were so many endearing comments that we thought it would be good to share them in AMDG magazine.

Some comments from the happy memories they inspired were: “dingly dell”, “chestnut trees and playing conkers”, “Miss Sweeney and Miss Douds”, “the football pitches and the woods which were out of bounds” and “the drive down from the building was used to lay out ‘A mile of pennies’ – part of the summer fete of 1958/59”.

The sandstone villa at 157 Camphill Avenue, dating from 1875 (and which still stands to this day), sat in splendour in 11 acres on what was believed to be near to the site of The Battle of Langside. The mansion was purchased by the College in 1943 by the then Rector, Fr d’Andria. However, with the ensuing Second World War, the house was requisitioned by the Army, so it was 1953 before building work could begin and on 17 August 1954, the first pupils entered what was known as John Ogilvie Hall Preparatory School to St Aloysius’ College, Glasgow. The formal opening and blessing took place on the Feast of Blessed John Ogilvie on 10 March 1955, presided over by his Grace Archbishop Donald Campbell.

In 1962 a new two-storey block was built which housed a Chapel, Gymnasium, Games Hall and Art Rooms. Since its opening in 1954, St John Ogilvie Hall prepared boys and later, girls, for their secondary education at the College. With twice as many applications as available places, it became renowned for being competitive to win a place.

However, by June 1984, a decision was made to close the

First Staff at John Ogilvie Hall 1954. Front: Miss M. Douds, Fr T. Lakeland, Fr A. Gordon, Fr L. Batley, Miss E. Sweeney. Back: Miss M. Kirkwood, Mr J. Hannah, Mr T. McCrorie, Mr T. Burke, Miss M. Butler, Mr R. Heslin.

doors of ‘the mansion’ and relocate to The Mount Building in Garnethill, and so came the end of an era but the happy memories remain for a generation of Old Aloysians. David Gildea (1988) sent in a photo recently of the first full intake of girls in the College’s history for the P7 Class of 1981 at John Ogilvie Hall. Who can you spot in the picture?