I was recently reorganizing my office bookcase when I came upon something I’ve been saving since our days at 631 Land Title Building – my father’s 1909 Law School Yearbook. It is a small one compared to what we see today, but it is so well preserved that it is remarkable. The binding is of cloth and sturdy hardboard. The pages are glossy and still easily read and the pictures un-blurred with age.
Some surprises were: A section on lawyer’s jokes with cartoons! Advertisements! And lo and behold, in the graduating class of ‘66 there was a woman! Remember, this is the class of 1909, not 1990.
The names of the faculty include one who later was a Supreme Court Justice and others whose casebooks and texts I used in the Class of 1954. There were pictures of their new building at 34th & Chestnut Street – they opened there in 1904. There were names of professors whose names became title to halls in the school by 1950.
A good majority of the graduates listed only high school as their prior education or degrees. It listed the year they were born and the year they graduated or received a degree, some even omitted that. Some of the classmates became the names of firms I remember in the 50s, but are even gone now in the 90s.
Dad’s read: 1886, Central High ’04. So the story about a year in school and a failing and then working was corroborated.
He allegedly flunked his first year, went to work as a stock boy at Wanamaker’s and then was “fired” or he said he resigned when he was ordered to go out into South Penn Square opposite City Hall and unload a truck. He refused to do so. He expressed objections on the grounds that he might be seen by someone who knew him, and that would be demeaning or at least not what he’d like them to know, so he resigned (?). His father pointed out he better head back to law school since it appeared he best be his own boss. Taking orders was not one of his fortes, so in ’06 he began again and graduated 3 years later in ’09, some 89 years ago.
The book was part of his library and now mine. I don’t think in ’54 that there was such a thing, although I do remember them in high school and college. The ones I recall included info about the clubs and activities that were engaged in by the graduate. This one had something similar in that under the graduate’s name there appeared for some a Greek letter indicating the fraternity or society of his choice. It only appeared where it was also indicated that the graduate had a prior degree, such as a B.A., or M.A. Dad’s name had no such indicator. The book also had a picture of the various law clubs and a list of their members. Dad avoided them also; he apparently had to keep busy elsewhere, at the library or work.
I remember the Law Clubs. They worked like a fraternity in that you had to be sponsored in order to be admitted. One that existed in 1909 and 1954 was the Sharswood, which, as recall, was limited to Ivy League graduates and usually only those from Harvard, Yale or Princeton. I was a member of the Hare Club; it allowed graduates from St. Joe’s, LaSalle and other such institutions. All I do remember is that the club had, as others did also, a collection of previous exams for some courses with answers, presumably acceptable ones. I remember in the first year I had a professor, W. Foster Reeves, for contracts. His exams were in the collection. I was encouraged to read them, but I was loathed to do so since I was going to do it on my own, as a student who would “know” the subject, not regurgitate an answer. Sadly, I flunked the exam and being one with heavy credit, put me on probation. I was permitted to continue only after a formal appeal. I learned a lesson however about this particular professor. In my third year I had him for Trusts and I pored over his old exams. I finished first in the class in the exam, and this, plus other fair marks allowed me to win the “Most Improved Student” award at graduation. I had a jump on everyone else for this award because I was at the absolute bottom of the class. I technically had failed the first year by some tenths of a point, so if I stayed I had nowhere else to go but up. I ended up in the middle of the class. Thus the Most Improved Ball Player award, all thanks to my regurgitating Professor Reeves exams.
He, Professor Reeves, even publicly referred to my achievement and privately in the presence of one other student advised him he should read my answers to the exam questions. It was a bit of an embarrassment to be reminded that all I did was memorize the canned answers and the Professor made it sound like I was a real student of Trust Law! So it goes!
The month of August is coming to its halfway mark the 15th. This time it will also mark an end and a beginning. It will be the end of the Avalon retreat and the beginning of the 15th year of marriage. We will enjoy both in different ways.
We were the guest of some 5 other residents and their wives at a dinner. It was held at the Avalon Country Club. We were toasted and toasted to the past and the future. The tribute and thoughts that went with it were heart warming. It is comforting to know you were considered a “good neighbor”. I came across the thought put differently ” …he found comfort in friendship, the true old man’s milk and restorative cordial” (p. 218 Jefferson, Mapp).
The other “restorative cordial” is memory. Good memories are particularly so. Bad ones we must live with and hope time heals all wounds. I have been asked to recall in these scribblings some of the good ones. Lori, Dan’s wife and mother of Meaghan McSorley (has a nice ring to it, no?) sent me a brochure or pamphlet asking the questions a child might ask of his or her grandpop. It is appropriately entitled “Grandpa’s Memories”. It is divided into sections, e.g., “The Early Years”, “Growing Up”, “My Home”, etc., etc. In the first section, “The Early Years” the first question is: “Grandpa, did you have any brothers or sisters, and what are their names and birthdates?” The answer is: Fourteen, six brothers and eight sisters. Their names I could give her, but the birthdates would be tough. One sister, Rita, I never met because she left to go to heaven at the age of only a few months, 10 years before I was born. She was a victim of influenza.
What I could do to answer the question would be to refer to Father Dick’s book on the family, “The More the Merrier” for such details, some of which are subject to a closer look. One of the episodes had Anne and I born in the same year, me in May and she in December. Mother was a “wonderful” woman, but not that wonderful.
The next questions is, “Who were you named after?” The report I received is that Dad and Mother were enamored with a Pope of the 1890s named Leo XIII. He was the author of some famous encyclicals, particularly one called “Rerum Novarum” pertaining to labor, labor unions and working people. It seemed that their 13th child should bear the name of that distinguished Pontiff, but not that alone, or so I have been told.’ Since Mother also liked the name “Paul”, it resulted in Paul Leo. So I was named after a Pope and given a name my mother liked. Besides, being the 13th child made it tough to be named “after” someone. Already the grandparents’ names had been used, as well as father’s also in Dick and Frank.
The next question is, “Who was he?” That is already answered in my answer to the first question.
Memories are the old man’s cordial – sometimes! There are times when they bring thoughts like what did we do in the summer of 1965? Some specifics in the past are impossible to recall. But those specifics fortunately include some we would not want to recall.
The balance of the section “The Early Years” had three other questions:
“Who did they say you looked like?” “How old was your mother when you were born?” “Were you the youngest of her children?”
I never heard whom I looked like and it is obvious from the proceeding paragraphs that I was not the youngest of mother’s children, and Mom was 42 years of age when I was born. A fact that today would be looked upon with derision and disbelief. The facts of Mother’s multi births and caring for us resulted in her being named “Catholic Mother of the Year” in 1948. It also resulted in her being mentioned derogatorily in Margaret Singer’s book on Planned Parenthood. It, as I recall, claimed Mom was able to have all those children because she was married to a wealthy Philadelphia attorney! I met my first case of some wishful thinking being recited as “fact”. It caused a great laugh to both Mom and Dad.
Today is the 25th of August. I am writing this while viewing the Atlantic Ocean from a Myrtle Beach, SC motel. It is the next to last day of our stay and it is also the day we once celebrated by the Atlantic Ocean in Sea Isle and Avalon as the birthday of the McSorley’s Two Beautiful Twins”, Frank and John. They were born on this date 10 years apart. Frank in 1913 and John in 1923. There was a song of the title given above about McSorley’s twins, but I don’t think we ever sang it to either of them. They are both gone and we now celebrate their date of leaving.
John I always have with me, as I seemed to in life. I have his and his son Pat’s memorial cards attached to the visor in my car, they travel with me wherever I go, as they did on occasion in life.
I recall one trip to Canton, Ohio, home of the Football Hall of Fame. John thought Pat would enjoy seeing it and could help as an assistant coach as I ran the Canton Marathon. This was in 1971 or 72, in the fall.
Later I learned that Pat had decided being an assistant was not for him, at least when the runner was his Uncle Paul. An assistant rides ahead of the runner and provides him with water, Gatorade, and time. It as the “time” that caused his change of heart. The runner, Uncle Paul, had certain goals at certain mile marks, to break 3 hours for the run. Things went smoothly enough through the 18-mile mark and then somewhere between there and the end, John took over. The explanation was that at some particular mile mark Pat gave out the time and then the admonition that the runner was so many minutes, seconds, etc., off, or behind his mark for that point. Apparently (he says with convenient memory block) the runner took umbrage with the admonition and verbally indicated the same to his assistant, nephew Pat. After one or two such incidents, Pat resigned, telling his Dad that he didn’t care to advise the runner, Uncle Paul, at the next mark since he was even further behind, and the resultant verbal response was not one he wished to suffer! So it was that John ambled on out to advise brother Paul of his failure to meet his goals. I did 3:06 or so and had ample hills to blame it on.
John is often in my mind. I keep thinking of what he should have done to prolong his life. He knew in 1980 when we took stress tests together that he had angina and blockage problems. He even started an exercise program at the Human Performance Lab at Holy Redeemer Hospital. Exercise was always difficult, but not impossible, because of the injured leg. He did not persevere and so it could be said that he shortened his life span, but really, who knows for sure? He just angered me, in his refusal to try. I became like big brother in this and many other ways. My anger was out of love for him, but was nevertheless, anger.
I can still see his eyes, saying goodbye from the bed in the Veteran’s Hospital in 1990. He was promising to get well so we could come back and play golf in May or June, or whenever. But he left us some 6 days later, still not obeying his “big” brother, I say he looked at June and me and said “goodbye” but I didn’t think of it as that sort when we left the room. I had believed he was being moved to a room and out of intensive care and we would see him in May or June. It wasn’t until after his death that I really felt those eyes saying “goodbye”, so may he rest in peace.
August is over! September has come to its 9th day of this 9th month and I have not put August to rest. It is similar to the Augusts of the past -they were over and we were in mid-September before you realized it. The change of scenery, shore to city, the change of habit, loafing to school rituals, and the change in weather (sometimes, but not in 1995) all made for excuses in leaving projects undone. So, I must bid adieu to August and hope my August rambling has been readable and semi-interesting. See you in September!
Saying for the Month: “I’d like to grow very old as slowly as possible.” (I.M. Selznick)