![]() ![]() There was no grandiose, wild waving of both arms in time. I’ve never been prouder to be a Best Man.)ĭean Pedtke was a one-of-a-kind choral director who could say everything with just his hands and facial expression. At John’s wedding, the officiating priest quipped that he hoped he would remember which John Fisher should recite the vows. John Fisher became Fish I and I became Fish II. I doubt there are many people who can claim a “best friend of all time” whose name is the same, spelled exactly the same way. Consequently, through no great talent of mine, I became one of the regulars at off-campus concerts and in these travels made the closest friends of my life. Baritones were plentiful tenors were not. Like most young men who can carry a tune, many of the friends I made in the Club were baritones, but the Indiana Bus Company’s buses carried only 40 riders - 39 singers and Dean. Dean taught me to have a better feel for a song and to back off when appropriate, but I deserved the mostly affectionate reputation I got of being a ‘screamer.’ I could never be accused of having an operatic voice, but I do have reasonably good pitch and volume and, in my enthusiasm for four-part harmony, I often erred on the side of being too loud rather than blending. Once I had learned my part on a few songs, I became a nightly annoyance to some of the veterans, boyishly bugging them to sing some more as we walked from O’Shaughnessy to the dining hall after rehearsals. Rehearsing every weekday evening from 5 to 6 became part of my fiber for the rest of my time at Notre Dame. The Glee Club became my fraternity on a campus where fraternities were not allowed. The memories of freshman year and all the laughs at my expense evaporated. ![]() I knew none of the songs, but when the 90-plus men’s voices broke into the “Victory March” in four-part harmony, I was suddenly all chill bumps and hooked for life. Within minutes, Dean was playing scales on the piano for me to imitate, and with an approving nod and a gentle “yeah,” he told me to sit with the second tenors when rehearsal began moments later at 5 p.m. Bob corrected my misimpression and took me over to the rehearsal hall to meet Professor Daniel H. Then, one football Saturday, Bob Koches ’63 heard me strumming my guitar and singing a Kingston Trio song and he suggested I try out for the Glee Club.ĭetermined to achieve a GPA that would not cause laughter on medical school admission committees, I had not considered joining anything extracurricular, let alone the Glee Club, whose members I assumed were music majors. Hofman and Brother Raphael Wilson, CSC, it was back to my solitary study nook of choice - the stairwells - for me. Now in pre-med, studying for the notoriously difficult exams in courses taught by Emil T. Accordingly, I arranged for a single room in the basement of Lyons Hall. Homesickness set in with a vengeance.īy sophomore year, I’d had enough of roommates. If I happened to doze off in the din, I might be awakened by imminent or actual urinary incontinence to discover my hand immersed in a container of warm water amid the guffaws of several juvenile 18-year-olds. Sleep before midnight was generally out of the question. ![]() I redoubled my efforts, but, returning to my Farley Hall bunk in the evenings, I found 343 had become the designated rumpus room for at least seven of my hallmates. Despite my version of hard studying, I received pink slips in three of my five subjects after midterms. Football, the Grotto and Mass at the Basilica were the only antidotes for the bleak fall and winter of 1961-62, my freshman year at Notre Dame. ![]()
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