Remembering Father B.
He had a greater responsibility; to help students in whatever way he could and where possible
It is September 24, 1968. I find a seat in the front of a classroom in Main Building, St. Dunstan’s University. I am here for a course on the history of P.E.I., and am anxious and excited to meet my new professor. Father Francis Bolger’s reputation as an orator and teacher extraordinaire has brought me here.
He bounds into the classroom hailing students by name as he makes his way to the front. He is a small man, nimble and graceful, trim and tidy, wearing a black suit and his cleric’s collar. His keen blue eyes miss no detail as he surveys the room of eager faces. He welcomes all of us, exchanging quips with many. Identification of students completed, he begins.
“The history of P.E.I. gives us an understanding of Canada itself by the role P.E.I. played in the building of the Nation. In a sense, we are Canada in miniature...the problems that beset Canada have been problems in the history of the Island itself.” His voice is loud and commanding, sometimes shrill with his own excitement. His enthusiasm is contagious.
It is clear that this man loves history but it is more than that. As he becomes engrossed with his subject, he becomes more animated — not for him the droning of old legends or the citing of musty, uninteresting details.
He races around the front of the class and up and down the aisles with a twinkle in his eye, his quick wit always at the ready as he brings the story of his beloved province to life before our very eyes.
That ‘Father B’ is enjoying himself is evident and what is equally apparent is how engaged and attentive his students are. He doesn’t just tell us the historical “facts”, he acts them out. With one quick leap he jumps on top of his desk, waves his arms theatrically and says, “So ladies and gentlemen, on a single afternoon on July 23, 1767, all of P.E.I. was cut-up into sixty-seven lots and assigned to British aristocracy, restricting the social, economic and political development of P.E.I. for more than 100 years. Imagine ladies and gentlemen what might have transpired otherwise.”
He is also a master of humor and innuendo. “The early Governors of P.E.I. were very busy for a number of reasons,” he says with a mischievous smile. “In addition to the administrative functions, one of those governors, Walter Patterson was believed to have had a romantic alliance with one Mrs. Stewart.” His voice drops to a whisper, then, to cap it all he says in his authoritative, highpitched voice, “The seal of the confessional is on all of you in this classroom,” suggesting humorously that we were not to repeat what we had just heard, knowing full well, of course, that we would.
Remarkably, he knows each student by name, and can situate Island students in their communities of origin. He knows many of their parents. He also knows much about the personal lives of his students and not-infrequently interrupts his own lecture.
“Miss MacDonald, the light from that new ring on your left hand is all but blinding, and I am delighted that Mr. MacEachern has such good taste.” And again, “Mrs. Duffy (who has eight children) it looks like you will soon be having your full baseball team?”
In his 35 years of teaching (1959 to 1994) to some 15,000 students, Fr. B managed to create an Island community within his classroom . . . a culture of caring and neighbourliness where stories were more important that the facts. He also engendered a love of P.E.I. history by encouraging students to pursue what was of personal interest to them for their research papers — there was no list of topics for his classes. His extensive and detailed knowledge of Island history excited imaginations while his positive feedback and assistance in identifying additional sources for obscure areas of interest seemed limitless.
His association with his students outside the classroom was on-going and continues. He has married many students, as well as their children and grandchildren, and what is amazing is that he still remembers their names.
And when the hockey Panthers are in town, Father B, their number one fan, can still be found in his familiar place, where he continues to greet former students.
His door was always open. Although his job was teaching history, he believed he had a greater responsibility; to help students in whatever way he could and where possible, to find their path.
That Father B. knew and loved his students was obvious, and remains his greatest legacy.
Thank you Father B.
This edited version of a story written by Sylvia Poirier of Charlottetown, a former student of Rev. F.W.P. Bolger’s Island history class, was published in Red Magazine in 2013.