Studs Terkel....."Curiosity didn't kill this Cat!"

So farewell then Studs....

When I first came to this country, I was in Borders & there in the discounted books, I discovered a gem...."Will the circle be unbroken...".

In summary, it was a reflective work. Studs doing what he did so best & so effortlessly- putting ordinary Americans at ease & acquiring their lifetime of insight on the topic in hand...this particular topic was on life, death & faith...as we get older we tend to focus on our destiny & ultimate journey.

It was a comment on American Society of that snapshot in time then that such a book be discarded & ignored so easily , to be put in the “marked down” section so soon after publication.

The humanity of Terkel's prose & his ability to let the true America speak....softly, quietly in these pages....away from all the chattering classes & masses, the talk-radio clan - the diatribes, the wingnuts of either side - made me realize and thankful for this country that I am honored to be a resident.

As I began to voraciously read this & his other "tomes"...the Pulitzer prize winner "The Good War", "Hope dies last", "American Dreams", "Working" , "Hard Times"...among others, I found one, "Coming of Age" to be his unbidden masterwork...it was reflections on the 20th century by those who had lived it...It's still a work that I read from time to time...simply for grounding myself & realizing how fortunate we are for the previous generations' toil, effort and sacrifice before us.

We were out (the better half & I) last night - It was our anniversary. On the radio, it was announced that Studs had passed to that "big rally in the sky". As we got out of the car, I said to my wife...how ironic that he should go just before the election on Tuesday to see a son of an immigrant, a community activist from his own town of Chicago be on the ballot of President of the United States. As I said this, I felt a chill , not a chill of cold or some eerie Halloween phenomenon but a shiver no a tremor of emotion on the whole import of the moment of his passing in such a time in our history.

The fact that the candidate is of African heritage would be a celebration of all that Studs believed & espoused about this wonderful, wonderful country. Studs was a light to me & countless others in some dark times...now that he is gone, it's time to pick up his torch & lead on. Studs Terkel was a true American superhero.

Leading is not some ego filled pastime but simply to do good in your life & the lives of others. It's time for our generation to do the same as previous ones and work for our kids & grandkids. Ensure that they have worthwhile lives too!

To those of you reading this, read Stud's work, read it & be filled with hope..the hope that good always wins out in the end.

http://dlv1.matrix.msu.edu:8080/ramgen/terkel/a0/a1/terkel-a0a1i9-b.rm
This is a clip from interviews he did on a train ride to Washington DC for a civil rights march. 54 weeks before I came into the world...a fitting finale before next Tuesday.

"All I remember....

...is dreading September & school"...words from a Mick Hanly song but I have to say, looking back I didn't particularly hate school - I endured it. I have some fond memories. I was just thinking of some of the teachers lately.

"The Horse" was the name of a teacher back in the day, in the Christian Brother's School, Green Street, Wexford. "The Horse's" real name if I recall was Brother Hogan, he had just finished teaching when I arrived there in September 1976, but that didn't stop him from keeping a bit of order in the schoolyard with his walking cane, he was the recipient of at least one stroke which I understand hastened his retirement - why the name "the Horse"? I don’t know but I guess it had something to do with his long face.


Another Brother that was there when I arrived there was "Huggy Bear". "Huggy" was a bear of a man and had a bear of a temper. He had a bombastic hatred of all things British but so over bearing was his personality, it gave one a sympathetic view of all things British. It was a guerilla war between him & his tormentors who would draw a union jack on the step into the first year prefab or on a blackboard, Huggy would not enter the room until it was cleared away. To some of us the Union Jack was the garlic that kept the vampire away as he was wont to lose the head with a youngster who would stutter an answer particularly so if the youngster had an English accent or was of a different faith. He was soon to be retired.


We had some good brothers also, Brother Casey had a quick-fire temper but was an excellent math’s teacher and genuinely cared about the student. Casey set up many initiatives on his own and also with the principle -Brother Shreenan. Youth music groups, computer labs, a fledgling sports set up which included a Championship winning football team and a cross country team. He also started the Friday night Ceili where many a youngster met their future spouse. I heard he had "gotten out"of the Brothers & had married, only to die some years ago at the relatively early age of 53. It knocked me back when I heard of his demise. It was a very sad day indeed for me as he had made a great impact on my life and I had a lot to be thankful to him for.

Brother Shreenan was the principle I remember most. He was a very deep, thoughtful person not scared of giving us discipline should we merit it neither was he afraid of confronting a teacher who he felt was bullying a student or even worse was generally ignoring the student over some personal foible, imagined or otherwise. He had this way of gliding along the floor, (the brothers in those days wore soutains), We called him usually "the boss" though I heard "Vader", "Darth" or "Lord Darth" - I called him "the ghost who walks' in deference to the Phantom Comics that were abroad at the time in the papers.

People are quick to slag off the religious these days, particularly those involved in schooling but where would be without them. They made huge personal sacrifices, giving up promising careers to educate a largely truculent, ungrateful bunch. Some indeed were forced into these orders by pious, sanctimonious parents who felt giving up a child would ease their way into their own Catholic heaven. You cannot force someone to do your will or to subjugate their own existence in deference to yours, there is only one ending in such cases - a bad one. Undoubtedly this is what happened to a lot of these people who we encountered during our school years. My wife's stories of her teachers in the Catholic schools of Cincinnati are almost a mirror image of my own. Some great, some good, some bad plus a host of sad, poignant tales scattered among them.

I look back on the remaining teachers I had and I have to say I am glad to have had them in my life. They were good decent, people who made a difference even if that difference is only coming to fruition now.

"Quack" as the man was known fondly to the CBS or Seamus Quirke was s singularly great teacher. He got the message through to our thick skulls and had a tremendous way of meeting you at your level

"Big John" MicNicholas & his wife Mena, John in particular was a tremendous teacher, in time his youngfella & my brother became great pals as his daughter Niamh & my sister Avril became great friends.

Tom Connon & his wife Angela were wonderful teachers too. Tom was an outstanding Sports teacher and a sympathetic ear. His wife Angela gave a lot of us a good grounding in the basics of French, which helped me when I moved into a "Wagon's" class for the last two years of my time there, as "the wagon" had no interest in teaching those of another's class. Years later I was coaching their kids and fine footballers they were too.


Miko McInerney was a great friend of my family and was a great Irish teacher but in those days I had as much interest in my native language as Joe Stalin had in "Noddy goes to Toyland". This was due to an intemperate w**nker who I had for two years in primary school that literally beat a lifelong resentment of the language into his students. Luckily "Miko" encouraged me to go to his native Connemara on a summer school scholarship where I discovered another side to my psyche and a lifelong love of Gaelic & her lore was rekindled.

"Buzzer" was our Chemistry teacher. I understood he got the name from his droning voice and the ability to put the most insomniac of insomniacs to sleep. "Take this down" he would drone as he entered the room and proceed to make us copy vast steppes nay rolling tundra of text-books, teaching us naught but what it must have been like to have been a scribe in a medieval monastery - poor buggers!

History was my favourite subject & so I read voraciously on the subject. Growing up in the house that I did, it was not a stretch for me to do so and I am glad I had two teachers Maura Coleman & Mick Waddle to encourage me or rather gently prod in certain directions. Basically to take away the blinkers and look at the bigger picture, this was particularly so in the case of Mick Waddle of whom I was poles apart politically but I learned to respect in the years afterwards.

On reflection, we were lucky enough to have some tremendous teachers, most were unpatronizing to us and dealt with us in a fair & open matter. they were mentors who gave us great encouragement for the years ahead.

It is a vocation - teaching, of that I have no doubt and a profession of incredible importance - I think of that old maxim, "the hand that rocks the cradle" when I think of these people. We were lucky enough to have some sound counsel at the most important time of our lives. I thank all of them from the bottom of my heart.