THE ORDER OF ST JEAN de BREBEUF and ROBERT MEAGHER

Today my alma mater celebrates four of its own as Joseph Boyden, Michael Rogers, Dennis Tobin and Robert Meagher are inducted into the school’s Order of Brebeuf, an honour which recognizes  achievements that exemplify the values and ideals of Brebeuf College.

I was privileged to have taught the first three inductees back in the late 70’s and early 80’s. However it is the fourth man, Robert Meagher, that I would like to pay tribute to in this blog entry.

To begin, Robert Meagher will always be Father Meagher to me. Though he parted with the Jesuits in the seventies, my association with him spanned the years when he served as the Brebeuf’s founding  principal from 1963 to 1972.

Along with vice-principal Neil Gazeley, Father Meagher assembled an outstanding staff of dedicated teachers to lead and inspire young men in the tradition of the Jesuit Fathers. Within a few months of the school’s opening, Brebeuf  boasted  sports teams, a debating club, and a school newspaper; even a school play was in the works. Certainly, Father Meagher’s  acumen and foresight ensured that a tradition of excellence would be initiated that continues to this day.

While I’ll leave it others to write and talk about Father Meagher’s contributions to the Brebeuf College community, I’d like to write a few words about the gift of Father Meagher in my life.

Let me share three stories.

The first occurred in October of 1963, about a month into my first year at the school.  It was 8 pm and I was lying in a bed at St. Michael’s Hospital awaiting surgery the next morning for a deviated septum. My dad had made sure I was well settled before he left earlier in the evening. 

As I lie reading on my bed, who walks in, to my utter surprise, but Father Meagher. Though I can’t recall our exact conversation, he said he was in the neighbourhood and thought he’d drop by to see how I was doing. I was speechless for a few moments but remember our conversation went something like this.

"But Father, don’t you have school work to do tonight?”

"Michael, I take care of all of that in the morning. I’m up at 5 am for prayers and Mass, then I spend some time on my school work.”

“Really?” I replied in disbelief. I had always held Jesuits in high esteem but now I was in awe.

“Are you worried about tomorrow? ” he asked kindly.

“Not really, Father,” I replied. “The doctor says it’s no big deal. I should be back at school in a few days.”

Not quite believing my bravado, Father shared a secret with me.

“You know,” he said, “It’s normal to be a bit frightened. In fact, did you know that just before school starts every year, I get frightened?  In fact, I feel quite unwell every Labour Day. First it’s my birthday on August 31, then I get sick to my stomach a few days later!”

“So you see Michael John, it’s OK to worry sometimes.”

I was touched by his story and warmed by his use of my second name.  The fact that he went out of his way to visit one of his students in hospital continues to impress me to this day.

A second story that reveals how Father Meagher helped to shape my character has to do with his Latin class. Indeed, although Father managed a high school, he still made time to teach a class in Latin and a class in Greek every day. He was the consummate teacher who could extract all the salient points of a lesson from one well chosen example. His organization skills and attention to detail served as a beacon for me as a teacher years later.

In Grade 12, I recall being called into his office to discuss the results of my Latin exam. Father Meagher wasn’t  too pleased with my mark and warned me that I’d have to put in a lot more effort into it if I was to be successful on the upcoming departmental, that is, the Latin exam set by the province.

“Michael, I know you can do a lot better,” he said in no uncertain terms.

Because he was my teacher and my mentor, I worked harder on my Latin over the next two months than I’d ever worked on anything before.

A few weeks after the June exam (class was over by early June in those days), Father Meagher phoned me to say that I had done exceptionally well on the departmental and that he was very proud of my achievement.

Again, he went out of his way to make the time for me and his encouragement helped me realize that I could achieve anything I really set my mind on.

A third Father Meagher story happened in my graduating year. I had been chosen to give the valedictory speech at graduation and although I realized it was an honour, giving a speech to a gymnasium full of people was a daunting prospect.  A few days after I submitted my hand written speech for Father’s approval, he called me down to meet him in an empty gymnasium.

“Stand up at the lectern and let me hear you speech,” he said as he leaned up against the back wall of the gym. “Oh, and by the way, I’ve made a few changes to your text.”

If I'm this nervous in front of one person, I wondered to myself, how am I ever going to manage in front of 400?

I read the typed speech in its entirety, familiarizing myself with some of the obvious improvements that he had made. The word retrospect was a new one for me but I trusted it was far more appropriate than what I had written.

As I finished, I could sense Father’s consternation.

“Let’s try it again,” he said. “I’d like you to project your voice more and keep your head up, looking just over me and at the back wall.”

My second attempt was marginally better.

“OK, let’s hear it one more time,” he said, as he ran his palm over his ample brow. “But this time, say it like you believe it. Say it as though you want to share some wonderful news with the audience.”

The third time was a charm and on the graduation night, the speech went off without a hitch.

Father Meagher had taken the time to ensure that I’d be successful, that I’d get it right. In fact, I still think about him whenever I’m about to give a speech.

Indeed he was my teacher, my mentor, and later my friend. In fact, I can safely say that Father Meagher was the person who believed in me before I actually believed in myself.

Many years later, when I heard that his health was failing, I wrote him a letter to express my appreciation for his caring for me as a student and as a person and for the trust he placed in me when he hired me to join the Brebeuf staff in the fall of 1972.

Though my experience with Robert Meagher is unique, I’m sure there are many similar stories from others that he encouraged and nurtured along the way.

Let me close with a few lines from his letter dated August 1995 and I think you’ll understand what I mean.

A warm hello to your wife and children – a special hello to your mother. That Sunday at your wedding reception near Perkinsfield is warmly remembered.

And thanks for remembering me...and thank you more especially for putting it on paper. It’s a keeper.

Michael Lynch has been in my thoughts recently. You were one of a host of students who would meet him each morning to carry him in his wheelchair to the second floor and who would repeat the process six times each day. When Michael died that first summer, he left a poem dedicated to the GUYS BEHIND...whose eyes he could not meet to say thank you.

Winding down now – not my choice. It’s remarkable to see how one can live on peanut butter, skim milk and rich memories.

Thank you Michael John.