A saint …I ain’t

On December 1, 2007, in Uncategorized, by The News Staff

On The Silly Side by Jimmy Del Ponte

Jimmy_delponte(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville News belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville News, its staff or publishers.)

I went to St Clement’s School in Medford for grades one through eight. We had nuns for teachers and we had to wear white shirts and neckties everyday. Oh yeah, and there was a lot of praying. It’s a good thing they taught us how to pray РI used to pray a lot.

I would pray that Sister Helene would not pick on me. She used to call me a ‘pint of peanuts’ and a ‘sawed off runt’. I would also pray that there would be a snowstorm so we wouldn’t have to go to school. One of the really cool things was that we got all the “holy” days off, but that wasn’t nearly enough.

My father used to say that we got a day off every time the pope sneezed РI loved that saying. We used to read all about the floods, destruction of cities and other biblical disasters -so why not pray for a disaster to cancel school? I prayed, but it didn’t work.

One of the great memories of my St Clement’s years was a neighborhood mailman who lived nearby. When it was a rainy day you would always see his mail truck in front of the school Рhe would load all us neighborhood kids into the back of the mail truck and deliver us to our homes Рsafe and dry. I will never forget how nice he was and how special he treated us kids.

I also remember another great guy during those St. Clements years – his name was Lenny Scott. He was a great local politician and we lived downstairs from him at number 99.  My family spent five wonderful years with him, his kids – David, Ralph and Paula and his wonderful wife Louise, who was an accomplished singer, pianist and music teacher. One year Lenny gave me a shiny 1882 silver dollar for my birthday. I took it down Savel‚Äôs Five and Dime and bought my mother an apron. My Dad went down and got the silver dollar back for me. I still have it.

St. Clement’s also gave me my first taste of show business. We performed “The March Play” every year. Each class would pick a song, the nuns would choreograph it and it would be presented on the stage of the Lincoln Jr. High School in Medford. My first grade number was “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic” Рto this day when I smell lipstick it reminds me of those shows.

I only lasted until the eighth grade at St. Clement’s. Years later I returned as a Sunday school teacher and did that for three years. My father, who later on went on to be quite active in the local Masonic Lodge, was an usher at Sunday mass for many years. I never figured out if he was a dedicated parishioner or if he just enjoyed the free breakfast with the priests in the rectory after he passed the collection box at mass every Sunday.

The best memory of my St. Clement’s years was stopping by my friend Phil Bradley’s house on Powderhouse Terrace every morning before school. I used to watch re-runs of The Three Stooges while he was getting ready. Nyuck, Nyuck! I can’t believe I survived eight years of “sister school.”

I did manage to get a few things out of parochial school Рmy family got the old convent piano when they got a new one. It was “first come, first serve” to anyone who could move it. It was a good deal because me, my two sons and my brother Joe all learned on that old piano. In a later article I will delve further into my scary but fun St. Clement’s days.

By the way, I am not a “pint of peanuts” anymore, but I do enjoy a handful of beer-nuts every so often. And I’m glad I learned to pray at St. Clement’s, because these days I pray a lot РAmen.

You can email Jimmy with comments directly at jimmydel@rcn.com

 

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