
(Image from geocities.com)
From Guest Blogger Norman Hoonan's email response to the post juet below this one, "Stranded in the Snow in a Car:"
"Your story about the snow and things of long ago reminded me of another time in my life. The following letter was written on the eve of my retirement from the United States Air Force. This letter was the genesis of what resulted in a reunion of hundreds that passed through the gates of St. Vincent's Home..".
October 1982
Vandenberg AFB, CA
Dear Sister,
It has been many years since I last saw you and as I approach my forty-third birthday I cannot help but think that all of my life you have been dedicated to a cause…a cause that I was but a small part…a cause that gave me my values…a cause that can only be repaid in heaven.
Reading your story, “They’re All Of My Children”, in the Fall River Herald News has brought back many a memory. As I read I could not hold back the tears that swelled up inside me…tears of joy…tears of hope…tears of wanting; wanting to say I love you.
All those years at St. Vincent’s Home and I never said, “I love you.” Well I want you to know that I have never forgotten you or St.Vincent’s Home, and I could never be thankful enough for the love and dedication you and the other sisters have bestowed upon me.
It was in September of 1945 when I first arrived at Saint Vincent’s and I departed in June of 1954. I visited you only once since that time…1958 or 1959, I’m not sure. It was sometime after you made a trip to Washington, D.C., in which I confirmed having seen you across the street. I’ve always regretted that moment of not having made the extra effort to change my direction and at least have said, “Hello.”
You know ever since that time, when ever I see a RSM in my travels I at least stop to say hello. I think the last time was in St. Louis, Missouri; however it was the RSM who spoke first. She said to me, “Do you think you know someone?” I said, “I was staring across the bus station when I recognized that familiar habit (which is no more) and just had to approach you, perchance you may be from St. Vincent’s.”
All those years have passed but I want you to know the memories of St. Vincent’s have been with me in times of crisis, loneliness, and love.
I remember when I first joined the U. S. Air Force and the discipline those “TI’s” tried to instill in me could not approach the cause and effect results that I received at St. Vincent’s. Whenever the going got rough, I just pictured that “TI” in a nun’s habit, and everything was just OK.
I remember when I studied in school about far away places that little did I know that someday I would visit such places. It was in the fifth or sixth grade (Sister Mary Bridgetta) that I first learned of the boat people in Aberdeem Fishing Village in Hong Kong, China. When in 1968 I was dining on a floating restaurant, observing the boat people as I was quietly saying my grace (I still do you know, before every meal), I recalled where I first learned of such extraordinary people.
I remember the loneliness of Christmas when I was driving across the upper peninsula of Michigan in 1970. Across all that vast emptiness of the winter snow, I felt a yearning that I once experienced at St. Vincent’s. The yearning and waiting (in the snow) for a visit from my dad at Christmas time. And all of the Christmases at St. Vincent’s…the Knight’s of Columbus Christmas parties, the AMVETS Christmas parties, and all the wonderful times we had then. Back then, Christmas was Christmas.
I remember when I received only one toy…a wooden duck on wheels that would quack, quack when pulled along. And, when I cried because someone broke my duck. When I look at my own children today, spoiled with all kinds of toys and not caring as I did for my duck, it makes me realize how important it is to shower your children with love and not toys.
Whenever and wherever I travel throughout the world, people always talk about the various foods; especially the bread! Well nobody, I mean nobody, could ever make bread like Sister Mary Regis. I’ve had bread in Sicily, Germany, Thailand, and just about everywhere and always I remember, Sister Regis made the best…crisp hard crust with soft white center that would melt in your mouth.
I read that you lost your book of names during the move from North Main Street. I’m Not sure I can remember them all but a few that come to mind are: Emile (Emo), Paul, and Ronnie Duclos, Frankie Nicholson, Armand Huard, Billie Oznick, Kenneth and Jo-Jo Brocheau, Richard (Roxie) Walker and brothers Billie and Joseph, Peter, Dan, and Charles Leary, Richard and Norman Mello, Billie Dennis (I think he had a brother also.), and now my memory is slipping. Where are they now? I know Joe Walker drowned in an unfortunate accident and he is remembered in my prayers. But the others are remembered to…
I suppose that I was the only one from my year group at St. Vincent’s to go to Vietnam during that unfortunate crisis, but I would like to know what happened to the rest of my classmates. It would be nice to have some kind of reunion someday.
Before I close this letter I want you to know the training and discipline that I received at St. Vincent’s has been with me all of my adult life…it will never leave me. I, even still, say my prayers each night before I fall to sleep. To some people that’s no big deal, but I still have to remind my children to do so. In fact, just raising a family is a big job for my wife and me and I often wondered how you could manage with twenty or thirty children when I have my hands full with just three.
My most sincere love,
Norman Hooben
(Norman adds that "the nun who is the subject of the commentary is Sister Mary Monice. She is now in a home for elderly nuns and sits quietly in her wheelchair remembering all her children." www.normanhooben.blogspot.com)