So many old faces in ’67 class reunion
Cast of characters from a half-century past
Long ago, when I still had hair, I was sent to cover the 50th reunion of Burlington High School, Class of 1926, or ’27. Aside from one wry classmate who kept asking, “When are we gonna tie on the feedbag?” all I recall is that everyone looked older than dirt.
This Sunday afternoon in Malden, I may catch myself looking for the same feedbag. The 1967 Class of Christopher Columbus High School gathers at Anthony’s in Malden to observe not just surviving these past 50 years … but outliving our beloved alma mater in the process.
The building on North Bennett Street was split down the middle. On one side of the double doors was Columbus High School for boys. On the other, St. Julie Billiart for girls. The building in the North End is now filled with million-dollar condos. The basement where we ate sub sandwiches is now an underground parking garage for Porsches and Mercedes.
Who was that grim-faced young man at the bottom of page 38 of the “Log 67” yearbook? No doubt he was worried that the photographer wouldn’t be able to airbrush all the zits off his face. He got rid of the zits. And time took care of the hair.
We came from South Boston, Dorchester, Charlestown, Roslindale, West Roxbury, Medford, Somerville and, of course, the North End. Our parents paid a few hundred dollars in tuition, which was a fortune back then. The Franciscan Friars took no guff, but had huge hearts.
To be honest, I might have let this milestone quietly pass if not for the persistent phone messages from Cesidio “Sid” Massaro.
Sid sailed into New York harbor from Italy on Dec. 13, 1958. He is now a project manager on a construction site in Malden, a Wentworth grad, a father and grandfather, who was retired for a little while, got bored and returned to work.
“Do you remember me?” Sid asked in our first conversation. How could I forget? He was one of the few kids at Columbus who actually had a car, a Chevy Impala. I sat in the backseat as we drove into East Boston for the funeral of our homeroom teacher’s mother. The Beach Boys were playing.
“It’s been 50 years,” Sid reminded me. “For those of us who are still here, I think we should get together, share memories and reflect on things like family and friendships.”
Sal LaRiccia, a mechanical engineer who worked at GTE Sylvania and Bose, told me, “I think this 50th is a chance to rekindle our friendships. I’ve become a great believer in the people we have around us, not what we have.
“And I do think there were teachers at Columbus who inspired me and helped to point the way toward a future.”
Some of us went on to college and graduate degrees. Others went into the service and fought in Vietnam. Others became cops and firemen. And one, Vincent Michael Ferrara, went to B.C. and became a racketeer of some note.
That solemn-faced kid on the bottom of page 38 actually said he wanted to be a “journalist” 50 years ago. Do you think he had a clue how things would turn out?
No way.