For 12 years, my parents sent me to Catholic School. The high school years did do me some good, but those grade school years consisted of standing in line, being punished, and being beaten and berated by nuns. I will say that the junior high years made me tougher. Hell, they made an entire school tougher.
Here’s the deal. I went to Duquesne Catholic Schools. Duquesne was a hard as nails steel town. Folks worked hard, and that work ethic was passed on to the kids, and the catholic school. Maybe I’m being a bit obtuse here, but, here’s the story.
During the bitter winter of 1979, I was in the 7th grade. At that time in Duquesne Catholic, Junior high held 6th , 7th, and 8th grade in the Holy Trinity building. The Holy Trinity building consisted of 8 cavernous classrooms spread evenly over two floors.
Anyway, the winter of ’79 was horribly snowy and cold. Snow piled up all over the city. It was cold. Like teens and low 20’s cold.
Let me drop one last tidbit here. Duquesne Catholic Schools was bankrolled by the three local catholic churches. Catholic Churches subsist on the monies donated to them by their parishioners. Large chunks of the cash donated to the local churches was required to be sent along to the diocese, and then along to the Vatican. I told you that story to tell you this story.
During the bitter winter of 1979, in the Holy Trinity building of Duquesne Catholic Schools, there was a massive and noisy boiler in the cellar. It kept us warm, but it often made clanging noises. People would come in and look at it, turn wrenches on it, and it kept us warm, until one fateful day that the noisy contraption would no longer keep us warm.
At least one professional was called in. He deemed it dead. It needed to be replaced. I don’t know what the cost was, but it was way above what the school had in petty cash. So, they called the churches. The cost was way above what the churches had left after they had sent most of the money to the diocese and the Vatican.
So, the school had to apply to the Diocese for funds to fix the furnace. The diocese reported back that it would take a week or so to appropriate the funds the furnace repair guy indicated that I would be a week or so from the time he got the funds to the time the furnace would once again warm the cavernous classrooms.
So, the Nuns and Priests and Shit made an epic decision. They certainly didn’t decide that us kids would have 2 or 3 weeks off. The also did not decide that we’d have class in an alternate location. They decided – and I’m not kidding – That they’d allow us to wear our hat, gloves, and coats all day long! How wonderful! As an added bonus, each cavernous classroom would have a tiny portable electric heater installed!
For two nasty February weeks, we sat bundled up in frozen classrooms the size of most houses. If you got “really” cold, you could ask permission to stand by the tiny electric heater. A guy named Mike spent the entire two-week frozen period shivering next to the heater with snot hanging out of his nose.
I don’t recall a single damned topic that was taught to me during that frozen period, but I do remember sitting in frozen classrooms – especially when listening to school closure announcements because it’s “Too Cold”.