About a month ago, I recieved an e-mail and then a phone call from a classmate, Ed Chiosso, whom I've seen off and on over the years, about the early and unexpected death of another classmate, John Leslie, who I hadn't seen in forty years. I don't know what shocked and saddened me more, his death or my being out of contact for forty years. Not to beat myself up over it, for I realize many of us went our separate ways, for all sorts of reasons, as people do after high school. Yet that doesn't mean there are not those old feelings for those we grew up with, and the circumstances of those formative years.

Anyway, Ed and I, collaborators as we were when we worked on the Campus Crew at St. Joe's, prepping the sports fields, thought to collaborate once again. I wonder if all this collaborating is sort of an Italian thing. We thought it would be nice to communicate some way with our fellow classmates, either via a newsletter, e-mail, or something over the internet, since that was a fairly easy way of doing this. Since I taught web page design, I thought that would be a nice way to reconnect.

Yet I still have to ask myself, other than the death of John acting as a sort of catalyst in this, "Why am I proposing this web page to reconnect?" You have to ask a similiar question "Why might you be interested in contributing?" I think that these are fair and important questions to ask and to answer before we delve into this. Bear with me as I think out loud, for you may have some of these thoughts and feelings also.

I spent eight years of my life in the seminary, form 1961 to 1969. That experience had a profound affect on my life, some good, some not so good. It was definitely during our formative years. Coming of age any where, any time is profound experience, frought with the agonies and ecstasies of youth. Coming of age in the seminary, as you well know, is something else entirely. For one, we lived with each other. Nothing excaped notice. Boarding schools are notorious for that. Secondly, the whole experience of signing up to be leaders and servants of an institution, the RCC, (I have difficulty spelling out the words), which would change itself when were in the middle of it, was both exhilerating to some, and traumatic to others, and both to many of us.

That experience had a profound affect on my life, for me mostly good. There were friends and experiences, good and challenging, which come with the excitement, the innocence, and the wonder of youth. We learned to learn, to endure Latin and Greek, and the challenges of sports, hazing, and living up to (or circumventing) The Rule. It was a character building experience. Here I learned to study, to learn, and to deal with myself and others.

Can we revisit those times? Can we transcend the oft frightening images of ourselves struggling to grow up, of the foolish mistakes we made in front of our peers--and in that setting, our peers noticed everything. Can we face the foolish youths we once were? Such a reconnection will undoubtedly be bitter-sweet, both as times past and youth lost are, but also because of the turmoil experienced by many of us in the turbulent 1960's, for our country and for the Roman Catholic Church (there, I said it), with whom we all thought, at one time or another, we had a calling to serve. There was something there, a generosity if you will, which still I believe, set, and sets, us apart.

Seeing our dreams change and/or our institutions crumble (literally in the cast of St. Joseph's whose tower was felled by the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake) were, to say the least, painful. To lose our dreams, to have them changed by the violent shaking of the changing church was for many of us equally traumatic. Some of us may have never recovered.

And yet most of us have rechanneled our dreams to run a different course, but the source of that new vocation is probably the same: a belief and a willingness to make a difference. And somehow, most if not all of us have survived, and in some way have, I believe, made a difference.

Can you relate to any of this, or am I just projecting myself all over the place?! Paul Page once told me that I overthink everything. Maybe he's right, but it strikes me as some what strange that we haven't made more of an opportunity to reconnect, after all these years. But maybe time is what is needed for us to work up the courage to revisit our youth, and our old friends. Time and reflection. Such is probably true with any reunion.

The hope and the premise of this web page is that we are ready to revisit our youth, and reconnect with our classmates, heal if necessary, and recognize that those years we spent together, however many, were not spent in vain. As we grew older, we rebuilt ourselves, found new careers, maybe raised families, and met our responsibilities; I hope time has healed any wounds, and fulfillment has whetted our desires to reconnect with our past friends and classmates.

His dictis (sorry, I couldn't resist), if you support the concept of trying to reconnect with your classmates, let Ed or me know via e-mail (jobarlives@yahoo.com or echiosso@earthlink.net ). If you want to give us a little update on what you been doing for the past forty years (wow, tempus really does fugit), or even attach a photo of yourself or your family, or pictures you have of St. Joe's--really needed; please do so. If you want to mail copies of photos which I can scan, you can send them to me at 1227 Foothill Street, Redwood City, Ca.,94041. Thanks. I hope we can make this happen. I believe it's well worth the effort.

.--Joe Barile, November 22, 2005