*Winter 2001 Magazine CR - Webpages at SCU - Santa Clara ...

150th Anniversarypresident) my grandfather used tohaul the Santa Clara football team’sequipment to the train station in hisdump trucks, for his buddy, “Smitty.”And in late May 1965, I headed a groupof students who organized our ownVietnam War “teach-in” at the old SantaClara Theatre on Franklin Street. Seemedpretty radical at the time—seems prettytame now.—BOB HOLDERNESS ’65Road WearyAs the class of ’92, we were the lastfreshmen to experience cars drivingthrough campus on The Alameda,although I was not able to experiencethe now-unifying landscape until aftergraduation. What an amazing milestone—andit sure beat dodging trafficon the way to class from Campisi!—SCOTT A. HARTUNG ’92Kenna Hall MemoriesWhen I walked through the doors ofKenna Hall in the fall of 1949, myfreshman year at Santa Clara, I feltelated about finally escaping the restrictions ofparents and high school. I soon realized, however,that the freedom I anticipated from collegewas not to be. For the class of 1953, the reality offreshman life in an all-male environment meantmandatory study in the room from 7 to 9 in theevening, a brief escape of 45 minutes to dash tothe campus co-op for a Coke and quick game ofpool, then back to the room until lights-out at 11.Friday nights, we were allowed out until 10:30,then a big Saturday night awaited us until midnight,when the Kenna doors were slammedshut. Since cars were forbidden to freshmen,Saturdays often meant visiting Father Schmidt’syouth club across the street, and ogling the localgirls—much to the anger of their male counterparts.As a class, we grumbled, complained, andswore at the deprivations of our freedom, withthe only consolation that life as sophomores hadto be better.—WILLIAM G. WIEAND ’53Senior PrankDuring the winter of their senior year in 1963, Ernie Giachetti,Ed Dolan, Reno Di Bono, and Rich Morrissey commandeeredLoyola’s official school banner. “Right after we grabbed the banner,we were chased by 10 or 15 Loyola guys who apparently sawthe SCU window decal on my car and traced the license number,”Ernie Giachetti, DDS, recalls. A week later, Giachetti wascalled into the office of Fr. Wilfred H. Crowley, SCU’s vice president ofstudent affairs, and told to return the booty in order toavoid ongoing retaliation between the schools. Giachetti says, “Discretionbeing the better part of valor—and wanting to graduate—wedecided to comply with the request.” But not before they took thisphoto in front of the Mission Church.Those Were The DaysReflecting, as I often do, on those halcyon daysat SCU—1947–51—a flood of memories overwhelmsme. It was a period of acceleratedgrowth, a veritable leap from childhood to manhood.Moral and intellectual disciplines weredefined, demanded, and enforced—it was quitesimple, not the least bit vague or complicated.And whatever successes came my way, significantcredit must be shared with the social andacademic environment to which I was fortunateenough to be exposed throughout those fourhappy years.—LAWRENCE P. JOHNSTON ’51Like Father, Like SonMy memory is having my son attend my graduationin 1959 and then me attending his in 1980.—RICHARD R. CALLAHAN ’59Blind LuckI was having lunch in the Benson cafeteriawhen I noticed a young lady enter.She appeared to be in a rush to receiveher lunch and leave. She managed toget in and out quickly and before I couldfinish swallowing my food, she wasgone. When a mutual friend asked if Iwould consider a blind date for theSenior Ball, I knew that my prayers hadbeen answered. Ten years after graduating,that blind date who was also theyoung lady I had spied in Bensonbecame my wife. Her name is MarthaTeresa Sanchez-Cortez ’83, and I loveher dearly.—MANUEL CORTEZ ’83Goofs and HoopsI remember listening to Fr. O’Sullivan’sjokes in metaphysics class (and) thebasketball team’s upset of USF at theSan Jose Civic Auditorium in 1956–57.—RICHARD B. CLARK ’58Haze-y MemoriesI remember playing in the “powderpuff” championshipgame with my team, “Purple Haze,” underthe lights at Buck Shaw Stadium. Even though welost, it was quite an experience.—CATHLEEN N. COBB ’74Fired UpI remember watching the UCLA/SCU basketballgame in Swig during my freshman year. Needlessto say, the Broncos came through. But the bestpart was the school spirit that erupted from campus:we watched from the ninth floor as hundredsof students poured onto Market Street, screamingand dancing around bonfires until the firedepartment arrived. It was just awesome! A truetestimony of school spirit.—AIMEE CABRERA ’99SANTA CLARA MAGAZINE/SUMMER 2001 3