Newsletter for alumni of The Abbey School, Mt. St.
Benedict, Trinidad and Tobago, W.I.
Caracas,
28 of April 2021 No.1013 Apr D
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Dear
Friends,
Happy
birthday Ladislao.
On the 20 of April 1943, I had the privilege of coming
to this world.
Well, we are soon past April, and we will be cruising
through May, I hope that you keep writing me messages to fill my issues.
Remember that once you write you get listed in the internet by magic of the
electronics and it is easier for your friends to locate you.
At the end of this issue, you will find the
instructions to send funds, I know your limitations.
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Thursday 8th April - Edward outbid
surgery
Nigel Boos
Thank you, Betty, for this update on Edward’s condition.
I have a good idea as to what he’s gone
through, since I too have had half of my pancreas removed in December 2019, as
well as my stomach, my spleen and my gall bladder. (An’ it ain’t nice!)
I wish him every success in his rebound,
and I’d like to offer him the benefit of my own experience as regards
weight-gain. I might have something useful to pass onto him.
Deo gratias.
Please extend my love and caring empathy
to all the family.
Nigel Boos
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From: Betty Lloyd
<bettyjeanlloyd@yahoo.co.uk>
Date: April 8, 2021 at 11:31:12 AM ED
Dear all.
Quick text about Edwards’s surgery.
The surgery went as Mr Ammed had hoped. Pancreas was smaller than expected for a man
of Eds size but that was just an interesting point. Visual inspection done around all organs and
all normal. Operation done as they had
planned - half pancreas left so they will know if he’s diabetic, or not, over
the next week or so. His clotting wasn’t
great but they “dealt with that” nothing about a transfusion thou.
He's still out just now but is going
into intensive care. Mr Ammed will speak
to him tmrw - Ed won’t take anything in tonight. They will monitor his pain and keep him pain
free at all times (they monitor his heart) and all tubs/drains are working etc.
Mr Ammed said he had no fears for him
but the next 3 to 4 days are important but the surgery went well. The next 24 hrs critical but pleased with the
surgery.
Thank you for your prayers. Please continue to keep him in your thoughts.
Such relief and more hopeful
Love to all Betty x
Betty Lloyd
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From: B L
<brucelocke@live.ca>
Sent: Monday, 29 March 2021
19:52
Hi Norman and Don,
Norman, apologies, but if I ever tell
you I will write within a certain time, don’t believe me!
If I’ve repeated some of what follows,
please forgive me. This turned out to be a long email so perhaps a cup of tea
first.
I’ve dug out my letters home from MSB,
all dated the first few months of 1961 and was happy to revisit some of the
minutiae of my time there. Memory and the writings home of an 11 year old might
not always be accurate so please feel free to correct me if needed.
Do any of you remember a boy whose last
name was Prats? He came home with me to Apex Oilfields at Easter that year. I
remember him as a sensible fellow who would advise me on how to deal with some
of the bullies at the school. His advice was to make sure that the other fellow
had something to remember, even if I lost the fight (which I always did).
I had asked Zschaeck to come to Apex that
holiday but he was going to stay with his aunt on Church St. in Port of Spain.
I spent a lot of time bemoaning lost
laundry in a couple letters home but of course it was all returned to me as,
like all our mothers, mine had stitched my school number, 196, into the hems,
with my name in indelible ink. I still have my bedsheet, which has followed me
everywhere. I had also kept my jacket but it was lost with a lot of belongings
when I had a sewage backup in my house in Toronto in 1978. I regret losing that
jacket as I really liked the pocket crest. As I’ve gotten older I’ve put a lot
of importance on the trappings of my childhood in Trinidad.
My mother’s side of the family is
descended from El Caudillo himself, President Antonio Guzman-Blanco of
Venezuela. After one of their many coups some of the Guzmans fled to Trinidad.
My life has been littered with Guzmans since then and many of their descendants
lived here in Burlington, Ontario, most passed on now. My Dad’s side of the
family, to keep the story short, were all born in the Punjab where Herbert
Locke, my grandfather, worked for the Indian State Railways. They returned to
England in 1920 and came out to Trinidad in 1922 where he took up the position
of Running Shed Foreman with the Trinidad Government Railways.
My Dad worked at the DUBBS plant in
Pointe a Pierre during the war. When he met my Mum in 1948 he was working at
the Pan American Flying Boat Terminal in Cocorite. After they were married in
1949 he returned to the refinery. They took their honeymoon at the Pax Guest
House at MSB where I was conceived. Dad died of a heart attack in 1967 and Mum
never remarried. She’s 93 now and living in a long term care home here in
Burlington. That’s been a rough go as she took ill with congestive heart
failure at the beginning of the pandemic. She’s in good health now but
suffering from dementia. She knows who everyone is but has the usual symptoms.
I studied film production at Ryerson
Polytechnical Institute (now a university) in Toronto and have since then
enjoyed an active although non profitable life as a film maker. Like most
“artists” I renovate houses to pay the bills, which I must admit has afforded
me a fairly pleasant life, allowing me to make my movies and travel.
I never married. I left the carrying on
of the family name to my brother.
Back to my letters. Apparently, I spent
a lot of time fighting with a boy whose nickname was “cokey Joe”. I had to go
to the nurse for some liniment once as he had put me in a “lock neck”.
I whined a lot about an ear ache I had.
After I had been moved from bed 33 to bed 36 I woke up in pain and Jinx to me
to Bobo who put drops in it. Speaking of Cokey, my nickname by a few boys was
“Cokey Eye” as I had a crooked, blind right eye. On the subject of names, I
recounted that some boys would approach me and ask me what kind of Locke I was,
Yale or Master, and, genuinely proud of what I thought was wit, would reply
“Well, you see boys, I’m a Bruce Locke”. Good grief.
I remember one night awaiting a flailing
at the hands of Fr. Eugene. Zschaeck was there as well and we vowed to steal a
pirogue and row to Venezuela rather than submit. Zschaeck was very nice to me
in the short time I was there. I understand he had a very bad temper but I
never saw that. He used to protect me from my bullies at times although I
suspect he thought I was a bit of a ninny. I used to “helicopter” hibiscus
flowers and while doing this once he came by and said “Locke, you – like
this??” and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief. I was going somewhere
another time and saw him seated with someone outside the school. He was crying
uncontrollably as I always thought he was a tough guy. I can still see that
scene.
I hear he was murdered in Caracas. I
used to have some pictures of him in my MSB photos but unfortunately, all of
those were lost, either in that flood at my home or when we emigrated. I had
taken a lot of pictures at the Mount and I still have the camera my parents
bought me. Also I gave a few rolls to one of the boys in the photo club to
develop for me but he came back to me saying they had been spoiled. So let me
ask anyone that reads this, if you have a picture of Zschaeck that you could
send me I would be more than grateful.
Don. I briefly recounted in a letter
home a trip up to the reservoir, mentioning Farcheg’s Den and Frankenstein’s
Cave and crossing the old bridge to get to the old monastery. I used to get
teased a lot that the “Ape Man” was going to eat me and I remember laying in my
bed in the Prep dorm looking through those windows at the mountainside worrying
that Bobo should close them in case the ape man got in. Speaking of Bobo, I
remember him getting locked out one night and hammering on the door “Boys,
boys, let me in!”
One night I was feeling melancholy and
one of the older boys was playing the piano in one of the rooms below the dorm.
I’m not sure exactly where the room was but I remember the tune was sad and did
nothing to lift my spirits.
Norman, I remember once we were talking
about something or the other and you swore and I got all indignant and uppity
and we wound up getting into a huge fight. Belts came off in the dorm later and
we started swatting at each other. I don’t know how it ended but maybe that had
something to do with by bed number being changed lol.
I remember my Mum making up my bed when
she left me there. You were the last bed near the entrance (if memory serves)
and I’m pretty sure mine was next to yours. I was trying to be brave as I knew
she would leave soon and remarked something about “a whole new life” but she
could see I was hurting and held my hand and said “Don’t worry son. I know you
will be homesick but you will grow accustomed to your life here…”. It’s
strange, the cycle of life, because those are literally the same words, I said
to her when we were finally able to see her after she was moved into long term
care. She was distraught, confused and crying and those were the only words I
could think to say. Of course, just like she was, I was right too and she is
quite happy where she is.
I cried for days after she left and
spent a couple days in the infirmary eating soupees and doing my best to
prolong my “cold”.
I remember playing in the mud after a
rainfall down at the sports field and being forbidden to go anywhere near the
dormitory.
For me, the evenings were cold and for
some odd reason I would wear my sweater all day in that heat as I couldn’t go
back to the dorm to get it. Do y’all remember a Carib or Arawak fellow who
worked there? Maybe there were a few but I remember one fellow being fascinated
by a magnet I had and how it would stick to metal. He kept trying to stick it
to concrete though! I also used to have a splendid torchlight, with the light
at 90 degrees to the body. I still see them around. Olive drab. Coveting what I
thought was a piece of crystal another boy had I traded that torchlight with
him for it. I think I came out the wrong end of that deal.
I recall “the new refectory” being
finished in my time there, with the stone retaining wall being “halfway up” and
reported home that I had seen “I was a Shoplifter” and “Bud Abbot and Lou
Costello meet something or the other”. Bad handwriting obscured exactly what
they met. I also remember the new Seminary and wanting to be a priest when I
got older so I could live in it.
One time, after swimming, I was headed
back up the hill and was met by two gentlemen of colour in a big left hand drive
American car from what I later realized was the 1940s stopped me. I don’t know
their relationship to each other but one of them was sending his son named
Bruce to the Abbey School and wondered if I would like to take friendship with
him. I said sure and bade them so long. God I used to hate going to that pool
as I spent more time getting my head held underwater by some bully or another.
I used to practice holding my breath so I could outlast them, which I was
eventually able to do. I can still hold my breath underwater for a long time.
The worst of my bullies was Humberto
Luongo. To this day I remember first meeting him as he was coming out of the
old refectory. He didn’t know me from Adam but looked at me and said “I’m going
to kill you one day.” Of course, we were children and that was a long time ago,
but I have never forgotten that. After a few episodes I finally bought him off
with cake Mum sent me and he never bothered me again. I was sort of sad to see
that he is one of the boys in Venezuela receiving help from Team George. I’m
going to contribute a little to that, but have not had the time to sit down and
give George a call. I emailed Humberto but he didn’t respond. I didn’t mention
the bullying in the email and never would.
Strangely, next to Humberto, Bermudez
was the next worst offender. I was to learn later that he had a lot of trouble
fitting in at the Mount and maybe was just passing his frustrations on to
somebody weaker. I experienced bullying at Catholic High School here in Canada
as well. In my late twenties I realized I had become a bully myself, although
not of the physical type. I’m happy to say I nipped that in the bud very
quickly. Bullying exists everywhere of course, and I’ve never let anyone pull
that nonsense on me ever since.
Me currently: I’ve lived in the same
apartment in Burlington for 35 years and am very happy here. I have more cats
than I should have and at 71 realize that the younger ones will probably
outlive me. I’m very active and travel a lot and always have some film project
on the go. Cancer and a heart attack have caused me to cut back on working as a
renovator but it’s probably time to put the tools down anyway. Several broken
bones, surgeries and lacerations are taking their toll now. With broken hand in
Rome in 2019 (still looking at one more surgery on that) I completed my ‘round
the world tour, having broken a bone in every limb by then. My mother is
seriously surprised that I haven’t been killed yet. Medication keeps the heart
ailments at bay and surgery took care of the colon cancer. I’m grateful that I
didn’t need a stoma. Rheumatoid Arthritis rounds out the package. Being an
autoimmune disease means I have to be super careful during COVID.
I’ve taken up 3D modelling and animation
and devote several hours a day to learning the craft. It’s immensely satisfying
I must say.
Could you both send me a photo of
yourselves at the time I was there (1961)? Had we stayed in Trinidad I most
certainly would have remained at the Abbey School and would have had the long
term experience you’ve all had but an ugly attack on our car, with my brother
and I alone in the back seat as our parents shopped at the camp grocery store,
prompted my father to decide to emigrate for our safety. My Mum was educated
here during the war and her sister had immigrated the year before so Canada was
a natural choice. It’s treated us well. We didn’t achieve “The American Dream”
but we’ve had a happy life here.
I know I only have a small story to tell
and didn’t go through my teens with you all but I nonetheless still feel a
kinship to the school. That one term doesn’t lessen my memories of Norman,
Boxhead, Check, Jeremy and Prats. It was however, my first time away from home
and I did some growing there as I had to learn to make my own way in a different
environment.
Best to you both.
Bruce
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Hi Michael.....
I don't know if you remember me, but in
the ole ole days we spent much time liming at fetes and girls’ houses trying to
be nice guys and pick them up!!!
I actually met my future, at that time,
at a fete at Kay Kelsall’s house in Cascade, where we went together, so that is
a memory not lost, as we have now been married for 43 years, have 3 kids and 4
grankids.
We left for Canada in 73 and have been
here ever since, freezing our nuts off. Come
back to TT frequently to ketch the ole talk and the walm climes....
I always remember you and I going to
visit a beautiful blond girl on the west side of Savannah...we would go and
hang out many afternoons...can’t remember her name or what happened to
her...fond old memories....
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EDITED by Ladislao Kertesz, kertesz11@yahoo.com, if you would like to subscribe for
a whole year and be in the circular’s mailing list or if you would like to
mention any old boy that you would like to include, write to me.
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Photos:
21LK0021DMI, Daniel Michieli
07LK0949FBRMAFAM, Roger Maingot and family
16LK4745FBRYAFAM, Ryan Maingot and
family
62LK2034FBREZFAM, the Rezende family
