OCCASIONAL PAPERS 
 ON THE HISTORY OF 
 BOSTON COLLEGE 
 
 PIONEERS AT CHESTNUT HILL 
 Recollections of the Class of 1917 
 
 Rev. Charles R Donovan, S.J. 
 University Historian 
 October 1997 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/pioneersatchestnOOdono 
 
In late March 1913 the first building at Boston College’s new location 
 atop Chestnut Hill, Father Gasson’s Gothic tower, was ready for occu- 
 pancy. Because it was so late in the academic year, only the senior class 
 moved from Father McElroy’s South End college building to the new 
 campus. The catalog for the year 1912-1913 announced that “the reg- 
 ular Graduation Exercises were held on the grounds of the new col- 
 lege on Wednesday, June 18th at 3 p.m.” The bachelor’s degree was 
 conferred upon the 60 members of the class of 1913. 
 
 The following fall the new sophomore, junior, and senior 
 classes — having spent one, two, and three years respectively at the 
 James Street location — reported for classes at Chestnut Hill on 
 September 15. The new freshman class, the class of 1917, was the first 
 to spend all four collegiate years at the Heights. This paper focuses 
 on the class of 1917 partly because of its unique experience as the first 
 class to spend four years at Chestnut Hill but especially because of the 
 availability of interesting information about the class from two of its 
 members. Father Maurice Dullea, S.J., and Thomas Craven. 
 
 Maurice Dullea, a native of South Boston, graduated from Boston 
 Latin School. He took the Boston College entrance examination and 
 won a four-year academic scholarship. During his four years at Boston 
 College, he was a top student in most subjects, as indicated by the 
 College catalogs which, in those days of small enrollments, printed 
 the names of students of all classes who ranked high in each course. 
 The catalogs of 1913-1917 list Maurice Dullea’s name again and 
 again, in the top rank or the second, or with honors in much of the 
 curriculum. Besides being a scholar, young Dullea played varsity foot- 
 ball for three years and captained the team as a senior. He entered 
 the Society of Jesus after graduation and spent 39 years of his Jesuit 
 
 Photograph on front cover: St. Mary’s Hall nearing completion. 
 
 [ 1 } 
 
life at Boston College, where he served as faculty advisor to athletics 
 and also as a professor of theology. 
 
 When the author of this paper was named university historian in 
 1979, one of his first acts was to tape a lengthy interview with Father 
 Dullea, then in his 83rd year, about his undergraduate days at Boston 
 College. Ever the meticulous scholar. Father Dullea came to the inter- 
 view with hand-drawn floor plans for the four floors of Gasson Hall 
 (in his day the only building on the campus), indicating in which 
 room each activity of the College was located. 
 
 Thomas Craven was from Dorchester. Like Maurice Dullea, he 
 graduated from Boston Latin School. He also played football for sev- 
 eral years at college, but in his senior year he was manager of the 
 team as well as being president of the Student Athletic Association. 
 More important in these pages, in his senior year Craven kept a diary 
 during the second semester, and since in those months Europe was at 
 war and the United States entered the conflict. Craven’s random 
 notes concerning war activities raise his otherwise mundane account 
 of college life to a geopolitical level. Fortunately for Boston College 
 history, Tom Craven gave this diary to the university archives in the 
 1970s. 
 
 THE CAMPUS 
 
 When asked if he was bothered by the long daily ride from South 
 Boston to Chestnut Hill, compared with the shorter ride for four 
 years to Latin School, Father Dullea’s response was both pragmatic 
 and poetic. He said he didn’t mind the trip to Chestnut Hill, first 
 because the cost of the ride was the same, a nickel. And then, he 
 added, there was the scene that greeted you as you emerged from the 
 streetcar at Lake Street: the College tower hovering over the twin 
 reservoirs. 
 
 As he recalled, there was no paved road on the campus from 
 Commonwealth Avenue to the College building. The fields on either 
 side, where St. Mary’s Hall and Bapst Library were later erected, were 
 not mowed but sported uncut grass or hay. The faculty building was 
 begun in September of his sophomore year, and construction materi- 
 als and equipment occupied the future site of the library. 
 
 On the architectural plans of Maginnis and Walsh, the first struc- 
 ture at Chestnut Hill was designated “Recitation Building” — hardly a 
 flattering description of Jesuit collegiate education of any century. 
 The students named it the Tower Building, a name that was used until 
 1952 when, belatedly. Father Thomas Gasson ’s name was affixed to 
 his majestic edifice. 
 
 [ 2 ] 
 
The Tower on the Heights: the view Father Dullea said lifted his spirits each 
 morning as he began his climb to the campus from Lake Street. 
 
 The president had an office in the first building, located in the 
 northeast corner of the first floor. As soon as St. Mary’s Hall opened 
 in 1917, the president, who in those days was also rector of the Jesuit 
 community, moved to an office in the Jesuit residence. The deans of 
 the College have from that time occupied the former presidential 
 office, with its elegant fireplace, lavatory, and reception room. 
 
 Until 1917 the dean’s office was on the same corridor as the presi- 
 dent’s, but on the opposite (southeast) end. As Father Dullea remem- 
 
 [ 3 ] 
 
The first winter at Chestnut Hill. The farmhouse of the Lawrence property 
 had been razed to make way for Gasson Hall, but the barn still stood in 
 1913. 
 
 bered it, the room next to the dean’s office was the bookstore, and 
 next to that was a tiny chapel. The last office before the east-west cor- 
 ridor that passes through the rotunda was the dean of discipline’s 
 office. Across the east-west corridor, adjoining the president’s rooms, 
 was the treasurer’s office. It is perhaps fitting that in recent years that 
 room has been devoted to the fiscal matters of the College of Arts and 
 Sciences. 
 
 Until a library could be constructed (Bapst opened in 1928), a 
 small reference library was needed in the Tower Building. The pre- 
 sent Arts and Sciences Honors Program room, to the south of the 
 rotunda and extending to both north-south corridors, served as a ref- 
 erence library in those early days. Across the rotunda was the stately 
 assembly hall, looking then as it does today. 
 
 The west, or College Road, corridor was devoted mostly to class- 
 rooms. Father Dullea recalled two exceptions: a faculty room and an 
 athletic office. Since the 24 Jesuits assigned to Boston College contin- 
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
Prior to the construction of Bapst Library in 1928, a small reference library 
 was needed on the new campus. This first floor space is now home of the 
 Honors Program of the College of Arts and Sciences. 
 
 ued to live at the old Jesuit residence on Harrison Avenue in the 
 South End undl St. Mary’s Hall opened in January 1917, they needed 
 a room in which to leave their outer clothing in cold weather and in 
 which to partake of a noontime meal. Father Dullea said the fathers 
 were brought to the Heights in a “. . . big, open barouche. It would 
 hold seven or eight passengers. ... an open car with no roof. The car 
 made several trips to get them all here. ... it was funny to see . . . the 
 fathers with their coats up around their necks after the long ride from 
 the South End.” A hot noon meal was brought up to the faculty room 
 each day from the cafeteria kitchen in the basement. 
 
 In charge of the athletic office, next to the faculty room, was a gen- 
 tleman called the graduate manager. The office served as storeroom 
 for all the football uniforms and equipment. The athletic and faculty 
 offices were opposite the present elevator on the first floor near the 
 College Road entrance. 
 
 The second and third floors were mostly devoted to classrooms. A 
 large classroom on the second floor over the president’s office could 
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
The physics lecture room on the third floor of Gasson Hall in the early days. 
 It was adapted for general classroom use when Devlin Hall, devoted to the 
 sciences, opened in 1924. 
 
 hold as many as 150 students and was known as the senior classroom. 
 On the third floor east, on either side of the distinguished Fulton 
 Debadng Room, were rooms for the physics course. On the south, or 
 Beacon Street, end of the corridor was the physics lecture room, with 
 seats in tiers across the breadth of the room as is the arrangement still 
 in the Fulton room. On the northern end of the corridor was the 
 physics laboratory. 
 
 People familiar with Gasson Hall prior to the mid-1970s are aware 
 that a feature of the original building was the presence of alcoves on 
 the second and third floor north-south corridors, with open Gothic 
 archways giving an unobstructed view of the rotunda from floor to 
 roof. So desperate was the university for office space when Gasson 
 underwent major renovation in 1976, that the alcoves were turned 
 into small offices. Hopefully these offices will be removed soon, and 
 students nearly a century after the class of 1917 will once more enjoy 
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
the upper-floor perspective of the rotunda provided by the architects. 
 
 The basement of Gasson Hall is the only area of the building 
 where today’s uses are almost totally different from those of the 
 1913-1917 era. Ironically, the least visible portion of the oldest build- 
 ing is today devoted overwhelmingly to facilitators of knowledge and 
 communication that were nonexistent in the second decade of the 
 twentieth century (information processing), whereas in that early 
 decade that area was used mostly for an operation as old as man- 
 kind — eating. The space under the original library now occupied by 
 the Honors Program room was a cafeteria. Father Dullea, not critical 
 by nature, commented that the cafeteria fare was not very good — 
 mostly soup and sandwiches. However, the noon meal for the faculty 
 was prepared there, and Father Dullea said the students would watch 
 the trays being carried upstairs and “we would see all this meat, you 
 know, and mashed potatoes, and oh our tongues would be hanging 
 out!” 
 
 Many students could not afford the cafeteria prices, so they 
 brought their lunch from home. On the opposite side of the base- 
 ment was a space as large as the auditorium above it that was used for 
 informal student meetings and athletic meetings. Around pillars that 
 supported the auditorium above were 8- to 10-inch circular shelves 
 where these students ate their lunch standing up. 
 
 The whole east side of the basement was devoted to chemistry. The 
 chemistry lecture room was underneath the president’s quarters and 
 the laboratories were at the other end of the corridor, with a supply 
 room in the middle. 
 
 On the west side at the northern end of the corridor was a 
 sub-basement (still in existence) that was the original boiler room. 
 Father Dullea thought he remembered coal being used. Half way 
 down the corridor was a shower room and, next to it, a toilet room of 
 generous size — the only general facility in the building. Finally, in 
 the southwest corner was a biology room. Because biology was an 
 elective in the early years, its facility did not match the space provided 
 for physics and chemistry. 
 
 CURRICULUM 
 
 Even a superficial account of the late twentieth century Boston College 
 undergraduate curriculum would fill the pages of this publication, so 
 variegated and numerous are the course choices available. In the 
 early decades of the century, however, all students followed a basically 
 set curriculum, with only a few limited chances for selection. The cat- 
 
 [ 7 ] 
 
alogs of that era printed the subjects all students would study, along 
 with the number of hours per week devoted to each subject. 
 Following is the “time schedule” from the 1916-1917 catalog: 
 
 FRESHMAN 
 
 Latin 7 hrs. 
 
 Greek 5 
 
 English 3 
 
 History 2 
 
 Mathematics 4 
 
 Evidences of Religion . . V/2 " 
 
 Elocution K 2 " 
 
 Modern Language .... 2 
 
 Total per week 25 " 
 
 JUNIOR 
 
 Philosophy 10 hrs. 
 
 Physics 5 " 
 
 History 2 " 
 
 Economics 2 " 
 
 Evidences W^' 
 
 Elocution 
 
 Electives 3 " 
 
 Total per week 24 
 
 SOPHOMORE 
 
 Latin 8 hrs. 
 
 Greek 5 " 
 
 English 3 " 
 
 History 2 " 
 
 Mathematics 2 " 
 
 Evidences W^" 
 
 Elocution V^" 
 
 General Chemistry .... 3 " 
 
 Total per week 25 " 
 
 SENIOR 
 
 Psychology 6 hrs. 
 
 Ethics 6 " 
 
 Evidences W^' 
 
 Elocution 
 
 History of Philosophy . . 2 " 
 
 Geology or Astronomy . 3 " 
 
 Electives 3 " 
 
 Total per week 22 " 
 
 Considering the hours devoted to Latin and Greek, one might 
 conclude that the classic languages were deemed more important 
 than English, but the numbers are deceptive. First, almost without 
 exception in freshman and sophomore years, the student had the 
 same professor for Latin, Greek, and English. The major literary 
 emphasis in the freshman year was poetry. Poetry as an art form was 
 experienced in three languages. Its evolution in Greek and Latin 
 authors and the language of poetic analysis, as developed in and for 
 those languages, naturally were applied to and illuminated English 
 poetry. 
 
 The art of persuasion, rhetoric, was the focus of the sophomore 
 teacher of Greek, Latin, and English. Masterpieces of eloquence and 
 logic by Demosthenes and Cicero were probed for the dynamics of 
 persuasion. The eloquence of ancient masters was then used as a 
 benchmark for evaluating oratory in English. Because the freshmen 
 and sophomores were still dealing with foreign languages in Greek 
 and Latin, more hours had to be devoted to classical poetry and 
 rhetoric because translation was involved. 
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
The title of the course for what we (perhaps pretentiously) now call 
 theology, namely, Evidences of Religion, sounds quaint today. One 
 almost pictures a religiously discouraged Sherlock Holmes wandering 
 about with magnifying glass, seeking any trace of religion. But the 
 word evidence, meaning proof — particularly religious proof — has a 
 long history. The Oxford English Dictionary cites two volumes using 
 evidence or evidences in this way: one by Anglican Bishop Bradford 
 in 1699, The Credibility of the Christian Religion from Its Intrinsic Evidence; 
 the second by William Paley in 1794, Evidences of Christianity. 
 
 The catalogs of the second decade of the century listed the topics 
 covered in each course. These course content presentations in small 
 print covered 15 or more pages of the catalogs and cannot be repro- 
 duced here. However, representative course outlines for each of the 
 four years are given below: 
 
 FRESHMAN GREEK 
 
 Precepts — Review of Syntax of dependent sentences; Prosody; the 
 general laws of versification. 
 
 Authors — First term: Homer, Odyssey; Plato, Apology; Herodotus. 
 Second term: Demosthenes, Olynthiacs I, II, III. Euripides Hecuba; 
 Herodotus. 
 
 Composition — Both terms: Exercises in Greek Composition, based 
 on Sidgwick’s Greek Prose Composition. 
 
 SOPHOMORE LATIN 
 
 Authors — First term: Cicero, Pro Lege Manilia, Pro Marcello; 
 Horace, Epodes, Satires, Epistles, Carmen Seculare; Tacitus, Agricola. 
 
 Second term: Cicero, Pro Milone, Pro Ligario; Juvenal, Satires; 
 Tacitus, Annales. 
 
 Sight Reading — First term: Tacitus, Germania. 
 
 Composition — Both terms: For Latin Prose Composition, Bradley’s 
 Aids; for Latin Versification, Lupton’s Latin Lyrics. 
 
 SOPHOMORE ENGLISH 
 
 Precepts — First term: Kleutgen, Ars Dicendi. Coppens, Oratorical 
 Composition. The study of Oratorical Composition — Oratorical 
 Analysis of Aeschines On the Crown; Cicero, on the Manilian Law; 
 Demosthenes, First Philippic; Burke, on American Taxation, or Bristol 
 Election. 
 
 Second term: Kleutgen and Coppens (continued). Oratorical analysis 
 of Cicero, For Milo; Demosthenes, On the Crown; Three English 
 Speeches: Burke’s Conciliation with America; one speech of Webster’s, 
 and some third speech. 
 
 [91 
 
Authors — First term: Shakespeare, Hamlet (analysis), King Lear 
 (reading); Burke, Bristol Election; Webster, Bunker Hill Oration; 
 Newman, Second Spring; Palgrave’s Golden Treasury. 
 
 Literature: Brooke. 
 
 Second term: Shakespeare, Macbeth (analysis); Bradley, Oratorical 
 Selections; Stedman, American Poets. 
 
 Literature: Brooke. 
 
 JUNIOR EMDENCES OF RELIGION 
 
 First term: Revelation, Natural and Supernatural. Miracles and 
 Prophecies. The Primitive, Patriarchal and Mosaic Revelation. The 
 Christian Revelation. The Institution and End of the Church. 
 
 Second Term: The Constitution of the Church. St. Peter given the 
 Primacy not only of honor, but also of jurisdiction. The Pope, the suc- 
 cessor of St. Peter. The Infallibility of the Pope. The Marks of the 
 Church. The teaching office of the Church. Sources of the Church's 
 teaching: Holy Scripture. Tradition. The Rule of Faith. 
 
 JUNIOR PHILOSOPH\^ 
 
 GENERAL MET.-\PH\'SICS, ONE-HALF TERM 
 
 1. Being. Objective Concept. Essence. 
 
 2. States of Being: Existence, Possibility, internal and external. 
 
 Source of internal possibility. 
 
 3. Transcendental properties of Being: one, true, good. 
 
 4. Kinds of Being: Substance and Accident. 
 
 (a) Notion of Substance. Nature, Individual, Suppositum, 
 Person. 
 
 (b) Notion of Accident. Existence of accident separate 
 from substance. Species of accidents. Space, place. 
 Compenetration, Multilocation. 
 
 5. Causes of Being. 
 
 6. Perfection of Being. 
 
 (a) Finite, infinite. 
 
 (b) Contingent, necessary. 
 
 (c) Time, eternity. 
 
 (d) Order, beauty, sublimity. 
 
 COSMOLOGY, ONE-HALF TERM 
 
 (a) Origin of the World. Materialism. Pantheism. Creation. Age of 
 the World. Atheistic and Theistic Evolution. End of Creation. 
 
 (b) Constitution of Bodies. 
 
 (c) Organic bodies. Life: its degrees, functions. Senses. Experi- 
 mental Psychology. 
 
 [ 10 } 
 
A note should be made here that the class of 1917 were pioneers in 
 Boston College history in one dramatic way. From the earliest days in 
 the South End, philosophy had been taught in Latin, and the philos- 
 ophy texts were in Latin. The class of 1917 had their logic, meta- 
 physics, and cosmology in Latin in junior year, but when they became 
 seniors, lo! psychology and ethics were taught in English, as were all 
 philosophy courses after that. Father Dullea reported that his ethics 
 professor, the redoubtable Father Jones I. Corrigan, in lieu of an 
 English textbook, passed out typed single pages in English for every 
 class: 
 
 Senior Ethics 
 Applied Ethics 
 
 1 . 
 
 2 . 
 
 3 . 
 
 Rights and Duties . Relations to others as individuals . 
 
 (a) Duties to God 
 
 (b) Duties to Self. 
 
 (c) Duties to Fellow-men. 
 
 1 . To their souls : 
 
 (a) To their intellect. Lying. Mental 
 Reservation . 
 
 (b) To their will. 
 
 2. To their body. Self-defence. 
 
 3. To their honor. Duelling. 
 
 4. To their property. Right of private 
 property in the abstract. Communism. 
 Socialism. Single Tax. Right to private 
 property in the concrete. 
 
 5. Ways of acquiring property. 
 
 (d) Restitution. 
 
 Society. Relation to others as members of society. 
 
 (a) Definition of Society. 
 
 (b) Origin of society in the abstract: Man 
 social by nature. Hobbes. Rousseau. Origin 
 of society in the concrete: Some human fact. 
 
 Kinds of Society: The Family, State and Church. 
 
 (a) Domestic Society. The Family. 
 
 Marriage: Its institution of divine origin, 
 hence, in its essentials, independent of 
 civil authority. Its properties: Unity and 
 Indissolubility; hence divorce impossible by 
 human authority. 
 
 (b) Civil Society. The State. 
 
 1. Origin in general from God. Its form 
 determined by some human fact. 
 
 2. Its unit, the family. 
 
 3. Its proximate and ultimate end. 
 
 C 11 } 
 
4. Civil authority in the abstract from God; 
 hence the absurdity of the Social 
 Contract of Rousseau; in the concrete, 
 determined by some human fact. 
 
 5. Stability of Civil Society. Liberty, true 
 and false. 
 
 6. Tyranny. Usurpation. Transmission of 
 civil authority. 
 
 7. Constitution, natural and written. 
 
 8. Minor societies. Right to existence and 
 self-government . 
 
 9. Function of the supreme authority: 
 legislative, judicial, executive. 
 
 Taxation. Militia. Capital punishment. 
 
 10. Social Order. 
 
 (a) Material order. 
 
 (b) Moral order. Religion. Union of State 
 and Church. Liberty of Conscience. 
 Toleration: dogmatic, personal, 
 civil. Liberty of speech and of the 
 press. Education. Common schools. 
 
 11. Civilization. 
 
 (c) International Society. 
 
 1. International Law. Sources. 
 
 2 . War . 
 
 3. Intervention. 
 
 (d) Religious Society. The Church. 
 
 1. Origin. End. 
 
 2. Nature. Rights. 
 
 3. Relation to Civil Society. 
 
 4. Supreme authority. Independent of 
 the State. Investiture. Secular Arm. 
 Veto of Secular Rulers in the 
 Election of the Pope. 
 
 The length and detail of the outline of the course in applied ethics 
 deserves comment. Surely ethics was a significant and climactic 
 course in the system of scholastic philosophy that Jesuit colleges had 
 taught for centuries. But it is perhaps also significant that in the nine- 
 teenth century the senior course in moral philosophy or ethics was 
 the crowning academic and, often, spiritual experience in leading 
 Protestant colleges. The course was often taught by charismatic 
 clergymen, many of whom were also the college presidents, such as 
 Mark Hopkins of Williams, Francis Wayland of Brown, and Noah 
 Porter of Yale. Graduates of such colleges cherished the memory of 
 that senior course, and under the right tutelage many Jesuit college 
 
 [ 12 } 
 
graduates of the nineteenth and early twendeth centuries had similar 
 formative and lasting memories of the ethics course. It could be that 
 the proud and loud acclaim of Protestant colleges and their alumni 
 for the impact of their moral philosophy course strengthened, if it 
 did not originally inspire, Jesuit emphasis on the ethics course. 
 
 Since some high-quality American colleges in the Protestant tradi- 
 don have just been mentioned, it is perhaps well to conclude this dis- 
 cussion of curriculum at Boston College in the 1913-1917 period by 
 pointing out that the studies Maurice Dullea and Thomas Craven 
 pursued at Chestnut Hill were very similar to what students at Yale, 
 Princeton, Wesleyan, and other such colleges followed through the 
 nineteenth century. Late in the nineteenth century. President Charles 
 Eliot’s and Harvard’s demand for an elecdve curriculum, plus soci- 
 ety’s demand that college years be largely pre-professional — that is, 
 preparatory to graduate educadon — eventually swept away the cen- 
 turies-old classical, philosophical curriculum. 
 
 FOOTBALL 
 
 In the first decade of the twentieth century, Boston College football 
 was in a very “iffy” condition. There was no team in the year 1900. 
 Although teams were fielded in 1901 and 1902, for the five years 1903 
 to 1907 the College had no football team. With the acquisition of a 
 spacious campus in 1907, hopes certainly had to rise for the future of 
 football, but the first four years at the Heights were rough and rugged 
 for the team. It was 3 years before athletic fields were ready for use. 
 Father Dullea said there was a ditch running across what is now the 
 College green (or “Dust Bowl” to some) carrying drain water from 
 College Road across the campus to the site of the present service 
 building. In the first year the team scrimmaged on a makeshift field 
 about where Campion and Cushing are located — with no yard lines 
 or goal posts. In sophomore year, arrangements were made for the 
 use of the field at Cleveland Circle from 3 to 5 o’clock. “We used to 
 walk all the way down there and drag ourselves back after scrimmag- 
 ing all afternoon. But of course it was good for training,” observed 
 Father Dullea. In the first two and a half seasons at the Heights, foot- 
 ball was a traveling game for Boston College, which played only one 
 game in Boston, at the Dunbar Avenue grounds near Codman 
 Square, Dorchester. The football field was completed and dedicated 
 on October 30, 1915, on the occasion of the Holy Cross game. 
 
 During the football season, players who earned a place at the train- 
 ing table ate in the basement rotunda, an area beneath the first floor 
 
 C 13] 
 
Alumni Field, dedicated in the fall of 1915. Seating was on the College 
 Road side of the field. Sharp-eyed readers will see construction equipment 
 to the left of Gasson Hall. St. Mary’s Hall was under construction. 
 
 rotunda and shaped like it. The team’s lockers were all around the 
 rotunda walls. At noon a table was brought into the rotunda and the 
 athletes sat down to the same meal, potatoes and meat, that the fac- 
 ulty got. Later, when they prepared for scrimmage, they dressed in 
 the rotunda. After some hours of practice had passed, the rotunda 
 would be steaming with football jerseys. The players undressed, 
 wrapped towels around themselves, and ran to the nearby shower 
 room, returning to the rotunda to dress. Considering the somewhat 
 spartan facilities for the players, especially in the light of what Father 
 Dullea had seen provided for the team in Roberts Center in the late 
 1950s, it was surprising to hear the judgment the venerable alumnus 
 made on the football program of his day: “Those were simple days, 
 Charlie. My gosh, they were great days!” 
 
 By the time Maurice Dullea was a senior and captain of the football 
 team, Boston College had played Holy Cross seven times in the twen- 
 tieth century and Holy Cross had won all seven games. Captain Dullea 
 was a major actor in the first victory of the century over the team from 
 Worcester. The historian of early Boston College football, Nathaniel 
 Hasenfus, noted that Captain Dullea played a “slashing game” at 
 tackle. With the score tied 14-14, “Dullea blocked a punt and recov- 
 ered for B.C. on the H.C. 28. On the fourth down, Fitz [Jimmy 
 Fitzpatrick] drop-kicked from the 36 and victory had come home to 
 Boston, 17-14.”^ 
 
 [ 141 
 
CLASSMATES 
 
 When asked who were the outstanding members of his class, Father 
 Dullea said he’d have to name maybe half the class if he were lisdng 
 wonderful people. But the two who were stars in college and became 
 bigger stars in later years were Paul Lianley Furfey and Richard 
 Cushing. Furfey was the class genius, who was excused from some 
 Latin and Greek classes so that he could be tutored in Liebrew by the 
 president. Father Thomas Gasson, himself. Furfey took most of the 
 academic honors of the class, entered the seminary, and had a distin- 
 guished career as a professor and author in the field of sociology at 
 Catholic University. About Richard Cushing, Father Dullea said the 
 following: 
 
 Dick Cushing was flamboyant. He used to love to talk. I remem- 
 ber we had a class meeting when we were sophomores. We met 
 in the physics lecture room and the purpose of the meeting was 
 to discuss the report of the dance committee. The chairman of 
 the dance committee was a young fellow who later went into the 
 seminary. He was naturally red-faced. He told us what the com- 
 mittee had been doing and finally came to a last point. He said 
 the committee had decided that members of the committee 
 would wear dress suits to the dance. At once in righteous indig- 
 nation and fury, Dick Cushing stood up in the rear row and said, 
 “Mr. President, I want to object to this gross display of inepti- 
 tude. We are going to be standing around that dance hall in our 
 four dollar suits and the committee members will be prancing 
 around in their dress suits they hired for $2.00 apiece. Who do 
 they think they are?” It went on this way and the class voted that 
 the committee should not wear the dress suits. After the meet- 
 ing I was with Cushing on the streetcar ride back to South 
 Boston and, speaking of the meedng, I mentioned that he had 
 been pretty rough on the dance committee. He said the meet- 
 ing was too complacent and he wanted to stir things up. He said 
 it was good for the committee to get shaken up. When the night 
 of the dance came around, the committee did wear dress suits, 
 and Dick Cushing was there and there was not a word of protest. 
 
 When the elections were over in South Boston, Dick Cushing 
 was out on the hustings. He would latch on to some candidate 
 and would go out every night and speak on the street corners, 
 going from one to another. He had his own little following. Dick 
 was popular there, and they would go out to hear him. He could 
 face the people who heckled him; that never bothered Dick. 
 
 [ 15 } 
 
Maurice Dullea’s yearbook photo. The 
 Sub Turri called the future Jesuit a 
 quiet, modest, and unassuming chap 
 who nevertheless was always in the 
 public eye, as scholar and athlete. 
 
 It is clear that had young Richard Cushing not entered the semi- 
 nary', he might have become a major figure in regional and, perhaps, 
 national politics. 
 
 Cushing spent only two years at Boston College. He entered the 
 seminary in the fall of 1915. He turned his mind to preparation for 
 the priesthood, but he didn’t turn away from events at Boston 
 College. On stationeiy of St. John’s Boston Ecclesiastical Seminary, 
 dated October 30, 1915, the young seminarian wrote to his Boston 
 College classmate, Maurice Dullea: 
 
 Dear friend Maurice: 
 
 I have just heard the sorrowful result of the Holy Cross game, 
 and being unable to find any detailed account of that 9 to 0 score I 
 decided to ivrite you this letter asking you to send me a minute 
 description of the game and also the neivspaper clippings that pertain 
 to it. I have heard that you played a wonderful game, Maurice, and 
 I sure was happy and crazy with joy when I was told it. To my sorrow 
 I also learned that you were injured, but I knoiv that that will have 
 little effect upon you when the prospects of the captaincy of next year’s 
 team are so bright. Well, Maurice, I must close, don ’t forget to send 
 me a good story of the game because there is not one chance in the 
 whole world of seeing a newspaper. Remember me to all the boys. 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 Dick Cushing 
 
 { 161 
 
Note that the letter was dated October 30. That was the day the 
 dedicatory game was played at Alumni Stadium on what is now the 
 College green. It was a good game, but Holy Cross prevailed 9-0. 
 Cushing wanted a player’s account as well as newspaper accounts of 
 the game. It is interesdng that young Dullea saved that letter from 
 seminarian Cushing; Father Dullea didn’t mention it during the 
 interview. A copy of the letter came into the author’s possession from 
 Father Dullea’s niece, Kathleen Hogan, in 1997. 
 
 Speaking of seminaries. Father Dullea reported that his freshman 
 class had 141 members. Of that number 37, or 26 percent, entered the 
 seminary or joined religious orders. All 37 were ordained, and as of 
 1979, with eight still living, none had defected from the priestly status. 
 
 Father Dullea believed that, despite the time consumed in com- 
 muting to and from the Heights, most of his classmates worked part 
 time. As for himself, from his third year at Ladn School he had a Job 
 in the Boston Public Library at Copley Square. He worked three 
 hours on two weekday nights and from noon to 10 o’clock on Sunday 
 at 20 cents an hour. His Job was helping in the return of books to the 
 stacks. He said the $3.60 a week was a big lift to the family. (Dullea was 
 on academic scholarship, but was aware that the annual tuition at 
 Boston College was $60. His library pay for four months would have 
 covered tuition.) One of the startling facts about the early years of 
 Boston College is that when the College opened in 1864, tuidon was 
 $60 a year, and it remained at that level throughout the nineteenth 
 century and through the graduation of the class of 1917. The class of 
 1917 could boast that they avoided the biggest percentage raise of 
 tuition in university history (to date) — 66 percent, for in the Sep- 
 tember after their graduadon, the tuition was raised to $100 a year. 
 
 ST. MAJIY’S HALL 
 
 During their sophomore and Junior years and the first semester of 
 their senior year, the class of 1917 had watched the gradual rise of the 
 Jesuit residence. As was true in the building of Gasson Hall, construc- 
 don had to be discondnued at one point for lack of funds. But as 
 Christmas 1916 approached, it was clear that the second building 
 would be ready for occupancy early in 1917. On January 3 senior 
 Thomas Craven wrote an article for the Boston Evening Record about 
 the new Gothic building. The paper asked him for a photograph and 
 on January 5 he delivered one to the paper. 
 
 The ardcle and photo appeared that evening. Over the photo was 
 a headline: St. Mary’s Hall at Boston College Has Cardinal’s Suite. 
 
 [ 17 1 
 
St. Mary’s Hall in the early stages of construction, viewed from Gasson Hall. 
 
 Under the photo in bold letters was a caption: New Home of Boston 
 College Faculty. In smaller print beneath the photo was the following 
 caption: “The teacher-priests of Boston College took up residence in 
 St. Marys’s Hall, University Heights, today. They will no longer have to 
 travel back and forth every day between James St., South End, and 
 Newton.” 
 
 Then followed Craven’s article. It is interesting that the “Cardinal’s 
 suite,” which of course could have been intended for any visiting dig- 
 nitary, made the headline. 
 
 The faculty of Boston College will move into their 
 new home, St, Mary’s Hall, University Heights, today, 
 and will gather for the first time at the supper table. It is 
 expected that the architect, James [the architect’s bap- 
 tismal name was Charles not James] D. Maginnis, will be 
 
 [ 18 ] 
 
present. The official dedication and laying of the corner- 
 stone has been postponed until the Spring, when the cer- 
 emonies will be held with great pomp. 
 
 For over three years the faculty of the college have 
 traveled from the old college on James St. every day and 
 much time was lost in delays. Now, with the new build- 
 ing on the grounds, the professors will have more time to 
 devote to their respective subjects. 
 
 The new building is the second of the ultimate group 
 of 20 which have been designed. It is of Gothic lines in 
 conformity with the organic architectural scheme of the 
 assemblage, and its sheer gray walls are relieved by elab- 
 orate Gothic traceries, by carved plaques and by the 
 graceful arches of the Gothic windows which encircle the 
 lower floor. 
 
 The first services in St. Mary’s Chapel, which is at the 
 north end of the main corridor, will be held in connection 
 with the Feast of the Epiphany at 6:30 Saturday morning. 
 
 The main altar, which occupies the entire chancel, is of 
 Botticini marble and rises to a height of 21 feet. There are 
 eight side altars, recessed in narrow aisles. The five 
 stained glass windows depict scenes in the life of the 
 Blessed Virgin. 
 
 There are 64 rooms in the whole building, 50 of which 
 are sleeping rooms and include the Cardinal’s suite, 
 which is on the second floor. 
 
 It must have been reassuring to the senior class of 1917 to see the 
 second Gothic masterpiece on campus not only completed but occu- 
 pied by the Jesuits, who would now be available for conference or 
 conversadon in the recepdon rooms on the first floor corridor. In an 
 article in the Stylus, a student by the name of Edward Lewis Lawlor 
 described the new “faculty building,’’ as he called it, in the following 
 exquisite detail. ^ The author suspects that he received help from the 
 architects in writing it. 
 
 St. Mary’s Hall, which is now almost ready for occu- 
 pancy, is the building, of the ultimate group of twenty at 
 Boston College, designed for the use of the faculty. In 
 several respects it is the most beautiful and unique build- 
 ing of its kind in the world. Of Gothic lines, in con- 
 formity with the organic architectural scheme of the 
 assemblage, its tawny grey walls rise to a towering height 
 from the tree tops on the steep slope of University Hill 
 
 C 19] 
 
with a grace and majesty that is inspirational. The portion 
 of the University site which was chosen for the building 
 is probably unexcelled in the metropolitan district. From 
 the hillside beneath it stretch the twin lakes and the 
 woodland shores, with their long, sweeping curves, and 
 beyond, Brookline, its valleys and ridges, its mansions 
 perched on overhanging precipices in every conceivable 
 position lending an old world atmosphere, and in the dis- 
 tance the steeples and towers of Boston dominated by the 
 dim, phantom-like campanile of the Custom House. 
 
 It is not the lofty elevation and the superb perspective 
 alone which make its situation unique, but the assurance 
 that almost the entire scene in the immediate foreground 
 is under conservation of the Metropolitan Park System. 
 Rarely has an American community so great a range of 
 landscape free from the usual hazards of commercial and 
 industrial intrusion. And on the surrounding hillsides lie 
 the spacious estates of Fisher Hill and Chestnut Hill sec- 
 tions of Brookline. Boston College enjoys the somewhat 
 rare distinction of having frontage on both of Boston’s 
 two oldest and most sacred boulevards. Commonwealth 
 Avenue and Beacon Street. 
 
 The sheer grey walls of the Faculty Building are 
 relieved as you come nearer, by elaborate Gothic 
 traceries, by massive carved plaques, with their lavish 
 symbolism, and by the graceful arches and leaded glass 
 of the huge Gothic windows, which encircle the lower 
 floor of the house. And the main doorway facing the 
 West, with its arches and piers, its concaved, ribbed ceil- 
 ing of hand- wrought stone, with its slender loftiness, has 
 thrills which are all its own. 
 
 Probably the most unique feature of St. Mary’s Hall is 
 the roof garden. Extending almost the entire length and 
 breadth of the building, it lies behind the main ridge of 
 the roof, giving absolutely no suggestion of such a fea- 
 ture from below. The floor of this is four feet below the 
 ridge line and is paved with red quarry stone, contrasting 
 richly with the green and brown of the tiles on the sloping 
 roof. The roof garden is accessible by staircases at both 
 ends and by an elevator. Here of course is obtained the 
 ultimate advantage of the magnificent perspective. And 
 here at night, with the barest murmur of the city coming 
 softly as though from afar and not only from beyond the 
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
St. Mary’s Hall at the second-floor level. The Gothic window frames at the 
 left are for St. Mary’s Chapel. 
 
 woodland and the rippling lakes below, above the tree 
 tops and the shadows, with just blue sky and stars over- 
 head, the greatest advantage of the roof garden will be 
 realized. 
 
 The portion of the lower floor of the house which is 
 uncloistered comprises the inner and outer vestibule, the 
 porter’s lodge, five small reception rooms near the main 
 entrance, with access from a minor corridor of the build- 
 ing, the Rector’s office, the Treasurer’s office, and the 
 chapel. On the first floor also are the main corridor, which 
 is of vast proportions, the large refectory, and the 
 Fathers’ recreation room. 
 
 The piece de resistance of the entire building is St. 
 Mary’s Chapel, which is at the north end of the main cor- 
 ridor. This is designed by the architects, Maginnis and 
 Walsh, whose reputation for their achievements in cathe- 
 drals, cloisters and chapels is country-wide, to be one of 
 the handsomest chapels in America. Its graceful propor- 
 tions, the effect of loftiness, its subdued architectural 
 splendor, all produce an impression at once amazing and 
 
 [21 ] 
 
profound. Its proportions are such as to give an effect of 
 great length, although it actually measures but a little 
 over 100 feet long, including the sanctuary with its octag- 
 onal shape. The chapel occupies two stories in the height 
 of the building, so that an effect of impressive loftiness is 
 contrived. The moulded arches and piers, as well as the 
 high wainscot of the chancel with its crested top, are of 
 light brown stone. 
 
 The main, or Blessed Virgin’s Altar occupies the 
 entire chancel, and rises in a slender, graceful spire of 
 rich brown Botticino marble to a sheer height of twenty- 
 one feet. Eight altars are provided in the length of the 
 nave, recessed in narrow aisles or ambulatories on both 
 sides. Five of these on the north side of the chapel are 
 beneath huge stained glass Gothic windows, of which 
 they seem to be a component part. These mural altars as 
 well as the wainscot of the chapel are of Botticino mar- 
 ble, which gives a rich but very subdued and restful 
 effect, and they are designed with the utmost simplicity 
 so as to become subordinate to the general effect of the 
 chapel. Embossed in triple gold on the front of each is the 
 name of the saint to which the altar is dedicated. On the 
 main altar is embossed the single word “Mary,” with the 
 Rose of Sharon and the Lily of Israel on either side. The 
 six candlesticks and the crucifix on the main altar, and the 
 two candlesticks and crucifix on each of the mural altars 
 are of triple plate gold and were especially designed by 
 Maginnis and Walsh. 
 
 Contrary to the custom in vogue in this country, but in 
 conformity with the significance of the name Emmanuel, 
 “God with us,” there will be no altar rail separating the 
 chancel and the nave of the chapel. Another departure 
 from the ordinary custom is the elaborately stained glass 
 lamp, resting on a bronze tripod plinth at the side of the 
 altar, which replaces the usual hanging sanctuary lamp. 
 
 At the west end of the chapel are two confessionals 
 with a tiny staircase leading to the choir loft overhead. 
 An ornate paneling of hand-carved solid oak, stained a 
 dark brown with delicate traceries, rises from the floor to 
 the choir gallery. The loft itself, the confessionals, the 
 pews, especially designed by the architect, and the mas- 
 sive beams of the ceiling rising from carved marble cor- 
 bells on the piers, are all of solid oak. The floors and 
 
 [ 22 ] 
 
steps of the chapel are of Tennessee marble. The heating 
 is rather interestingly contrived by radiators placed 
 beneath the mural altars, and of their presence there is no 
 outward suggestion whatever. Only a small seating 
 capacity of about three hundred is provided for in the 
 center of the nave. 
 
 The doors leading from the chapel into the main cor- 
 ridor running north and south are of massive, hand- 
 wrought bronze, beautifully panelled and set with leaded 
 glass. It was intended originally to use huge bronze gates 
 here, but the plan was abandoned because it entailed a 
 too open exposure of the chapel. 
 
 The Rector’s office is in the southwest corner of the 
 building and the Fathers’ recreation room in the south- 
 east, with a view over the reservoirs. Next to the latter 
 and on the same side of the building is the large refectory, 
 60 feet long with a serving room, and communication 
 with the kitchen below. These rooms and the main corri- 
 dor are panelled two-thirds of their height with straight 
 dark oak. The arrangement of the tables in the refectory, 
 in accordance with the Jesuitic custom, is after the tradi- 
 tional form of the table of the Last Supper. 
 
 At intervals in the main corridors are semi-niches 
 designed to contain the busts of historic members of the 
 Jesuit order. The ceiling is beamed with arches of oak, 
 which rest on carved corbells on the walls. The south end 
 of the corridor terminates in a massive Gothic window of 
 wonderful arched tracery and leaded glass, having the 
 traditional southern exposure, through which stream 
 great beams of sunlight the entire day. 
 
 The second, third and fourth floors are given over to 
 sleeping apartments. On the north end of the second floor 
 is the library, which like the rest of the building, is exclu- 
 sively for the use of the Fathers. It will contain a select 
 collection of about seven thousand volumes, mostly theo- 
 logical and classical. The room, which is finished in quar- 
 tered oak, will contain dark green bookcases of steel 
 covering the four walls; large arm chairs, study tables 
 and reading lamps. 
 
 At the opposite end of the building is the Cardinal’s 
 suite, with two magnificent bay windows overlooking the 
 reservoirs. This, in contrast to the monastic severity of 
 the rest of the floor, is sumptuously decorated and 
 
 [ 23 ] 
 
Four happy Jesuits in front of St. Mary’s Hall, glad they no longer had to 
 commute to campus daily from the former residence in the South End. The 
 president, Father Charles W. Lyons, S.J., is seated behind the driver. 
 
 furnished, and is reserved for the use of visiting church 
 dignitaries. 
 
 On the third floor, just above the Cardinal’s suite and 
 commanding the same prospective, is the infirmary suite, 
 and the infirmary chapel. This chapel, which is almost 
 tiny in dimensions, will be elaborately decorated and fur- 
 nished. There is a small, deep-set Gothic window of 
 stained glass specially built over the altar, which lends a 
 wealth of color to the room. 
 
 The individual sleeping room is 15 by 20 feet, with a 
 large electrically lighted dressing room provided with a 
 bowl having hot and cold water. The furnishing of the 
 room as designed by the architects is of the barest sim- 
 plicity, and consists of a bed, a desk, a revolving book 
 case, a headpiece rocker, wall book cases, a priedieu, and 
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
a crucifix. All the woodwork throughout the building is 
 oak, and the walls are tinted a light cream. 
 
 The fifth floor is a spacious attic so arranged that it 
 may eventually be divided into 17 additional rooms. 
 There are at present 45 living rooms in the Faculty 
 Building. It is rather an interesting observation that the 
 original plans for the building drawn up several years ago 
 arranged for the accommodation of only 16. 
 
 The basement is given over to the kitchen and scul- 
 leries, pantry, refrigerator, refrigeration plant, a solid fire- 
 proof concrete vault with tiny winding staircase leading 
 to the Treasurer’s office on the floor above, small work- 
 ingmen’s dining room, boiler and coal rooms, storage 
 room, and carpenter shop. 
 
 Plans are being drawn up for a hundred-and-seventy- 
 five-foot terrace of trees and plants, which will be built 
 on the lower or reservoir side of the building. This will 
 require filling in of land to a depth of twenty-five feet 
 over a large area. An interesting feature of this terrace 
 will be a 175-foot underground causeway leading from a 
 road in the rear into a sub-basement. It will be used for 
 carrying supplies into the sub-cellar store rooms. 
 
 Edward Lewis Lawlor. 
 
 THE CRAVEN DIARY 
 
 We know that Thomas Craven wrote the above-mentioned Evening 
 Record article because, starting January 1, 1917, he kept a daily account 
 of his activities. From it we learn that on January 2 he got a job at a 
 haberdashery establishment in North Station, a position he held on 
 Saturdays and holidays for the remainder of the academic year. On 
 January 3 he recorded that he wrote a story for the Evening Record. He 
 also sent a story on the new building to the Globe. 
 
 Each day’s entry in the journal was a mixture of the banal and the 
 significant, often starting with such items as how sleepy he was on 
 awakening, what the weather was, whom he met on the way from 
 Dorchester to Chestnut Hill, who visited the family, and how business 
 was on Saturday at the haberdashery. Intermingled were enthusiastic 
 — or less than enthusiastic — comments on his classes, opinions on 
 the war in Europe, and, especially, on the exclusion of Boston College 
 men from the officers’ training school in Plattsburg. For purposes of 
 this paper, a few themes will be singled out and followed through the 
 
 [ 25 ] 
 
Thomas Craven’s yearbook photo. The 
 Sub Turri sa\6 Tom was unmatched for 
 involvement in college activities. 
 
 months of the second semester of the senior year, even though such 
 concentration on particular issues may give a false impression of the 
 diary, which rarely devoted a page to one issue, but rather reflected a 
 juxtaposition of the pedestrian, the important, and occasionally the 
 sublime of ordinary life. 
 
 There are some issues of style that make this writer fond of the 
 diarist and regretful that, for many years, he could have had personal 
 contact with Tom Craven and missed the opportunity. Even though a 
 diaiy is a sort of quick, shorthand record. Craven was meticulous on a 
 few points. He always referred to his parents as Mother and Father, 
 always capitalizing those words and never shortening them to a famil- 
 iar ma or pa. Never once did he write B.C. for Boston College, though 
 it would have been so convenient to use the abbreviation. He seemed, 
 in short, to have a reverential pen that would not abbreviate the 
 things dearest to him. Each Sunday and holy day he recorded what 
 Mass he attended, and he also recorded times he went to confession. 
 
 Were one to judge simply from reading the Craven diary, one 
 would conclude that the young man wanted to be, and was destined 
 to be, a journalist. We have already noted his submission of an article 
 to two newspapers about the opening of St. Mary’s Hall. On January 
 12 he paid to keep his rented typewriter for three more months. He 
 was asked to write a five-page article for the Stylus about the alumni 
 banquet. In late January he reported receiving a check from the 
 Evening Journal, which would indicate that he was being remunerated 
 for his writing even though his name was not published with his news 
 articles. In February he consulted the Evening Record about writing a 
 column on schoolboy athletics. (Craven had been football captain at 
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
Latin School and also a member of the track team.) The immediate 
 answer was negative, although he felt he received some encourage- 
 ment. On February 8 he reported writing “stories for the papers” and, 
 on the 13th, a story on the Catholic Alumni Ball for the Advertiser. On 
 March 1 1 and 25 he also noted that he had submitted articles to the 
 Globe and the Advertiser. In April he again extended payment on his 
 typewriter. As we shall see, war-related events involved Craven more 
 publicly with the papers. 
 
 Academics 
 
 The 1917 yearbook. Sub Turri, noted that regarding college activities, 
 Tom Craven “has not even a competitor for first place. He is here 
 there and everywhere.” He was a member of the Marquette Debating 
 Society in freshman and sophomore years and of the Fulton Debating 
 Society in junior year. He was a running back in football for his first 
 three years and manager of the team in senior year. He served as pres- 
 ident of the Student Athletic Association in his last year. That year 
 Harvard’s stellar football alumnus, Charlie Brickley, became football 
 coach and the College’s football fortunes began to rise. But there was 
 little organized management of athletics, so Craven, as president of 
 the A.A., spent considerable time arranging a schedule for the base- 
 ball team — a schedule that was eventually cancelled because of the 
 declaration of war. 
 
 Despite these many nonacademic activities, Tom Craven cared 
 about his classes and commented on them in his diary. One professor 
 who stirred him (and Father Dullea) intellectually was Father Michael 
 Ahern, a young scientist who proved to be one of the giants of the 
 New England Jesuit province because of a very popular and intellec- 
 tual Catholic radio program he conducted on Sunday afternoons in 
 the 1920s and 1930s. Father Ahern was teaching the seniors a course 
 in astronomy and geology, and the course undoubtedly had some- 
 thing to do with a diary notation for January 8: “Stayed up till 2 
 o’clock to see the eclipse of the moon. Observed it five minutes.” The 
 very next day he wrote in the diary: “History of philosophy and astron- 
 omy classes extremely interesting.” But he noted other business of the 
 day: “Called on Charlie Brickley and tried to use his influence in get- 
 ting gold footballs for the fellows [the team].” A week later Craven 
 noted he had attended a public lecture by Father Ahern: “Over the 
 Canadian Rockies to Alaska.” On Ash Wednesday, February 19, the 
 diary reported that in ethics class there was a very thorough explana- 
 tion about lying. This was balanced with the information that “Ralph 
 Quinn disturbed the dignity of the class by wearing a wing collar with 
 a red bow tie.” 
 
 [27 1 
 
Gasson Hall as it looked in the years 191 3-1 91 7. Note the uncut field that is 
 now Bapst Library lawn. The famous lindens had not been planted. 
 
 On March 2 Craven was moved to record that his ethics class was 
 spellbinding and that what he called the enormity of geology was 
 beginning to stagger him. On March 13 the diary noted that the 
 ethics class went ahead full speed on socialism and that the geology 
 class was most fascinating. 
 
 Craven did have two negative comments on classes. One was about 
 the course, History of Philosophy, which he elsewhere praised. But on 
 February 15 he noted, “Still harping on St. Thomas [Aquinas].” And 
 on April 20, referring presumably to the Evidences of Religion class, 
 he wrote acerbicly, “Rehash on Trinity.” 
 
 In Craven’s time, as for centuries before in Jesuit colleges and for 
 decades afterwards, there were not only written final examinations 
 
 [ 28 ] 
 
but oral examinations (called “orals”) before a board usually of three 
 faculty members. For most students the orals were a formidable expe- 
 rience, and they prepared for them seriously. Here is Craven’s entry 
 for Sunday, May 20: “Went to 7:30 Mass. Called on Frank Limont. We 
 went to Joe Keenan’s and the three of us plugged up on Ethics and 
 History of Philosophy on the bank of the Charles River. It was a beau- 
 dful afternoon. Had supper at Joe’s and spent the evening quizzing 
 one another.” 
 
 Orals ran from May 24 to June 1. Craven was able to record on May 
 24: “Defended the 50th thesis in Natural Theology and the 60th in 
 Ethics. I was nervous. I watched a terrible ball game this afternoon — 
 Tufts 15, Boston College 0. Wrote it up for the papers.” 
 
 World War I 
 
 One of the most significant aspects of Tom Craven’s diary is his terse 
 notes and occasional opinions on the war in Europe. He usually 
 entered them at the bottom of the page, possibly as something not 
 part of his life but of larger potential significance than the day’s events 
 recorded above. On February 1 he noted: “Germany threatening all 
 commerce in the vicinity of Allied Countries.” Two days later: 
 “German ambassador sent home and ours called home. Much fear 
 that war will be declared. There should be no need of that, for 
 Germany will make satisfactory amends.” (Some wishful thinking on 
 Craven’s part!) On February 10 he noted: “Since February 1 the 
 Germans have sunk 74 vessels of both belligerents and neutrals.” On 
 February 26 was the notation: “Cunard Lines Laconia sunk by a U-boat. 
 27 Americans aboard her.” Two days later: “The sinking of the Laconia 
 has unnerved many. It is expected that this is the long looked-for 
 ‘overt act.’ President was refused power which he sought from 
 Congress, relative to arming or patrolling of American shipping.” 
 
 The first day of March had this diary entry: “Big German plot to 
 involve U.S. in a war with Mexico and Japan revealed today.” The fol- 
 lowing day Craven added: “Wilson confirmed big German plot.” In 
 the middle of March the diary reported that the czar of Russia had 
 abdicated his throne in favor of the revolutionists who had over- 
 thrown the government. On April 2, for the first time. Craven began 
 the diary entry with a war-related item: “Congress meets today to 
 debate on the advisability of a state of war with Germany. The country 
 is leaning towards war. A war at this time could not be waged offen- 
 sively by us. We are not in the position to make active war, for we have 
 not the necessary number of men to put on the field.” Once again the 
 diarist’s hope for the noninvolvement of the United States in the 
 European war influenced his judgment. For the next two days he 
 
 [ 29 ] 
 
recorded at the bottom of the page that Senator LaFolette had 
 blocked senate action on a war resoludon, adding, “Looks like trou- 
 ble in Austria.” On April 5, which was Holy Thursday, the diary 
 recorded at the bottom of the page: “Reports from Washington late 
 today have it that the Senate has passed the war resolution.” The April 
 6 entry began: “Good Friday! War Declared by the House at 3:15 this 
 morning. President signed it at 1:11 this afternoon. Did some reading 
 and typewriting this morning. Paid rent on my typewriter.” 
 
 The following day the diary noted at the bottom of the page: 
 “Many rumors of German raiders off the coast. German gunboat in 
 Guam blown up by crew.” On April 15 some good news: “Reported 
 that the British have penetrated the so-called Hindenberg Line.” The 
 April 25 diary reported: “We were agreeably surprised to be sum- 
 moned to the Assembly Hall to hear Father Lyons give an address on 
 the military preparadons which are going on and how we can do our 
 part in the movement. He oudined the Plattsburg Camp (Reserve 
 Officers) program. In conclusion he announced that military drill 
 would be inaugurated tomorrow. Cheer upon cheer welcomed this 
 announcement.” Clearly the Boston College men loyally supported 
 the country’s war policy, but the next day in their ethics class, their 
 enthusiasm was cridcized. 
 
 For April 26 Craven recorded: “Father Corrigan burst a bomb in 
 the dream of the Seniors who were planning to go to Plattsburg. 
 Nobody will be allowed credit towards his degree for academic work 
 he has not done. All will have to cover the work prescribed and no 
 allowances will be made.” Craven submitted an article on Father 
 Corrigan’s stand to the Globe, which was published on Friday, April 
 27. The main headline for the article was: Boston College Men Must 
 Finish Course, with the sub-headlines: Plattsburg Candidates Hear 
 Bad News/Seniors Told Completion of Work Necessary for Degree. 
 The third paragraph of the five paragraph article was the crucial 
 one: “Fr. Corrigan said in part: ‘Absolutely no concessions will be 
 made in the case of seniors who do not complete the full amount of 
 work in any of the courses over which I have charge. The degree is to 
 be given for work done, and it is not fair to the other members of the 
 class when some are granted a degree for completing less work than 
 they do.’ ” 
 
 The diary entry for April 27, when the Globe article appeared, 
 reported: “Class was in a furor this morning over the piece I put in the 
 Globe about Father Corrigan’s refusing to aid fellows in their 
 Plattsburg enlistment. My head was awhirl all morning lest it should 
 leak out that I did it.” It didn’t leak out and the diary says that in the 
 afternoon Father Lyons told a “delegation of us” that those wishing to 
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
Southern, or Beacon Street, view of Gasson Hall as it looked in the early 
 college years of the class of 1917. 
 
 leave school for Plattsburg would be given an early and lenient exam- 
 ination. Craven concluded the day’s diary: “Decided to enlist my ser- 
 vices for Plattsburg.” 
 
 At this point it is interesting to hear Father Dullea’s comments on 
 the Father Corrigan anti-Plattsburg episode. He said that Jones 
 Corrigan was ordinarily a very stable man, but in this instance he was 
 misled. He opposed the military effort and decided to do something 
 drastic about it. In this, in Father Dullea’s opinion, Corrigan was 
 grossly imprudent. When asked what Father Corrigan’s motivation 
 could have been, Father Dullea replied bluntly: “He was anti-English, 
 of course. He never had revealed anything along those lines, but I 
 
 [ 31 ] 
 
think that would be it. He had Irish parents and many Irish parents 
 were very bitter and felt strongly against the English.” This may, 
 indeed, have been so, but the episode was so out of keeping with the 
 writer’s experience with Father Corrigan as his professor sixteen years 
 later that an endnote is added to put the distinguished gendeman in 
 perspective.^ 
 
 The day after all the Father Corrigan furor (he was calmly over- 
 ruled by President Lyons), Craven was his ordinary self enough to 
 record in his diary: “Exchanged my new football sweater for a knitted 
 vest.” 
 
 The Plattsburg ''ScandaT’ 
 
 On the first day of May, Tom Craven went to the Officers Reserve 
 recruiting station, where he was examined and sworn in for candidacy 
 at Plattsburg. Maurice Dullea had done the same on April 27. Craven 
 was so keyed up about enlistment that only two days later. May 3, he 
 noted at the bottom of the diary page: “Have not yet received word 
 from the Army.” 
 
 The Boston Transcript was a very solid, respected paper. It was not 
 mentioned in the diary until May 7, when Craven — showing his 
 good journalistic instincts — wrote: “Looked over the files of the 
 Transcript tonight and found that a large number of Boston College 
 men have not been accepted for Plattsburg. Decided to investigate.” 
 
 The following day Craven wrote, “Much comment throughout the 
 College about the receiving of ‘abeyence’ [i.e. nonacceptance for 
 Plattsburg] cards by the fellows. I was so enthused to get the facts 
 together that I lost the good of all my classes. My hypothesis is that 
 Boston College men were barred because they were from Boston 
 College. Those especially who had letters [of recommendation] from 
 Father Lyons and were interviewed by Capt. Shannon were rejected.” 
 This was written before Craven knew that all Boston College appli- 
 cants but one were rejected. 
 
 A front page article in the Globe the next day. May 9, gave substance 
 to Craven’s broad hypothesis and brought angry reactions from 
 Boston College people, politicians, and the press. The buoyant head- 
 line of the Globe story was: “New England To Send 2500 Men.” A sec- 
 ondary headline announced: “First Batch Will Leave for Plattsburg 
 Friday.” And, for Boston College men, a crushing third headline: 
 “Noted Athletes Among Harvard’s 700 Successful Candidates.” 
 Pouring salt on the wounds of rejected men from the Heights was the 
 article’s litany of the athletic and family pedigrees of many of the 
 apparently predestined military officers from the Ivy League: 
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
. . . Included in the more than 2000 names are: William 
 H. Meanix of Roxbury, Harvard and B.A.A. hurdler; 
 
 Thomas A. Fitzgerald of Dorchester, son of Ex-Mayor 
 John F. Fitzgerald; Edger R Trott of Roxbury, an old 
 Harvard athlete, who has had much practical engineering 
 experience; M. M. de Vitalis of Providence, famous as a 
 Brown University football player; William A. Barron Jr. 
 of Newburyport, former captain of the Harvard track 
 team; E. K. Merrihew, prominent as a runner at Harvard 
 and afterward a member of the B.A.A. relay team; H. A. 
 
 Gidney, B.A.A. high jumper; Charles S. Bird Jr. of 
 Walpole, son of Charles Sumner Bird; Howard Fall of 
 Malden; James W. Doon, M.I.T. sprinter; and Robert Jr 
 and Phillip Winsor of Weston. 
 
 Approximately 700 of the men chosen are Harvard 
 men, either students in the university or graduates. 
 
 R. Norris Williams 3d, the National tennis champion; 
 Huntington R. Hardwick, the great halfback; Harry 
 Gardner, one of the Crimson’s coolest quarterbacks; and 
 George Haydock, the pole vaulter, are Harvard grads who 
 passed the test. The varsity football team of last Fall is 
 well represented by Charley Coolidge and Dick Harte, 
 ends; Tom Thacher, halfback; William F. Robinson, quar- 
 terback; and Jose Harris, center. Mark Horne is one of the 
 substitutes accepted. 
 
 Capt. Henry B. Cabot and Manager Percival S. Howe 
 Jr, John M. Franklin and W. C. Hubbard, assistant man- 
 ager of the varsity crew; Capt. George E. Abbot of the 
 baseball team; Grant H. Code, varsity fencing manager; 
 
 William H. Meanix, crack hurdler; Henry W. Minot and 
 J. W. Feeney, track representatives, also qualified. 
 
 Morris Hadley, son of Arthur T. Hadley, president of 
 Yale, was another man to be admitted. 
 
 Among the Brown athletes who passed the tests were 
 Mark Farnum, football captain; Ray Ward, linesman. 
 
 Shumway, halfback at Amherst, is also going along. 
 
 Among the score of Dartmouth entries are those of 
 Trenholm, track man, and Loudon, football. 
 
 Craven didn’t specify in his diary when he read the Globe story on 
 the Ivy League blitz, but the entry for the day, May 9, shows that he 
 was hot under the collar: “Had a very busy morning getting the names 
 of those fellows who were turned down by the Officers Reserve Corps 
 office. Went in to City Hall. Conferred with Tom Hurley [secretary of 
 
 [ 33 ] 
 
the Boston College alumni association and a city government 
 employee] and others about my letter to the Mayor advocating his 
 further inspecdon of the Plattsburg ‘scandal.’ Handed my letter to 
 the Mayor.” 
 
 On May 10 Craven wrote: “Some of the morning papers contained 
 a story from Mayor Curley using part of the facts I handed him yester- 
 day in regard to Plattsburg. Received a phone call from the Mayor’s 
 office, so I left class and went in town. Had a talk with the Mayor and 
 at his suggesdon rewrote my letter and made the change he wished. 
 Went out to the College and wrote a letter to Congressman Tague.” 
 Craven did not record what the change was that the mayor asked for. 
 Craven’s entry for May 8 gave his h)pothesis that the exclusion of 
 Boston College men was an attack on Boston College. The official 
 public protest focused on the number of non-New England men from 
 Hanard who were counted as part of the New England quota for offi- 
 cers training. Craven’s letter assumed this thrust, as will be seen 
 shordy. 
 
 The Boston Traveler of May 1 1 carried an editorial that echoed 
 Craven’s original hypothesis of a selection system that favored 
 Hanard and discriminated against Boston College, though the edito- 
 rial did not name any insdtudon. It stated that many people under- 
 stand that the war the United States has entered is not a college war 
 or a class war, and Boston College is not mendoned by name but is 
 indirectly referred to as a local insdtudon that had only one applicant 
 accepted. 
 
 One Out of a Hundred 
 
 Gen. Edwards is positive that all those who applied in 
 this city for the Plattsburg training camp received a 
 square deal and that selection was solely on merit. 
 
 Gen. Edwards, who is not in authority over the camp, 
 believes what he says and as commander of the depart- 
 ment of the Northeast believes in the square deal. But the 
 methods employed at the Water street headquarters have 
 mystified not a few people who appreciate the fact that 
 the war in which this country has embarked is not to be a 
 college war, is not to be a class war, is not to be con- 
 ducted under the auspices of, or against, any race, any 
 creed, any university or any secret organization. 
 
 An educational institution of average standing, at 
 least, in Massachusetts sent 100 of its young men to the 
 Water street recruiting station for those who desired to 
 
 [ 34 ] 
 
enroll for Plattsburg. Sixty-seven of the number passed 
 the physical examination. Of the sixty-seven a total of 
 one — count it — appeared on the list of those selected 
 to go to Plattsburg. 
 
 This paper is not making any charges of favoritism in 
 behalf of any educational institution or of prejudice 
 against any. It is merely wondering how that young man 
 happened to get by. Was it an oversight? It is a problem 
 that might warrant closer scrutiny on the part of those 
 sincerely interested in making this a war of democracy 
 for democracy. 
 
 The next day, May 12, the Traveler carried a story concerning 
 Congressman Tague, to whom Craven had written. Tague protested 
 to the secretary of war that in the selection of men for officer train- 
 ing, Harvard seemed favored and Boston College slighted. 
 
 Charges Discrimination 
 in Plattsburg Selections 
 
 Congressman Tague Obtains 
 Promise of Investigation 
 
 Congressman Tague today offered a vigorous protest to 
 Secretary Baker against alleged discrimination in the 
 selection of Boston men for the Plattsburg training camp. 
 
 The same matter was the subject of vigorous representa- 
 tions by former Mayor Fitzgerald and Congressman 
 Gallivan last week. 
 
 Mr. Tague told the secretary of war that there seemed 
 to have been a marked disposition upon the part of those 
 in charge of selecting men to take Harvard students. 
 
 Many of those selected from Cambridge, the Boston con- 
 gressman stated, have their legal residence outside of 
 New England. He further informed Secretary Baker that 
 although more than 100 applications had been filed by 
 students attending Boston College, as far as he could 
 learn not a single one had been accepted. 
 
 Secretary Baker said he was not in personal touch 
 with the situation and promised immediately to investi- 
 gate it. 
 
 It is clear that Thomas Craven was a dynamic influence in calling 
 attention to the unbalanced selection to Plattsburg from New 
 
 [ 35 ] 
 
England colleges. His diary notes on May 15 that the Boston Journal 
 and the Globe published the full letter which he gave to Mayor Curley 
 about Plattsburg. These items could not be found for this paper at the 
 Boston Public Library, but an ardcle in the Boston Evening American on 
 May 17 cites Craven’s letter, and that is included here: 
 
 Sees Favoritism at Plattsburg 
 
 A protest against alleged “subterfuge” in the naming 
 of more than 200 Harvard collegians to the New England 
 contingent at Plattsburg military camp has been for- 
 warded to Secretary of War Baker. 
 
 The protest was written by Thomas D. Craven of No. 
 18 Eastman street, Dorchester, to Mayor Curley, who 
 sent Craven’s letter to Secretary Baker, with a statement 
 that he, the Mayor, believes the protest sound. 
 
 The Mayor has also forwarded to Major-General J. 
 Eranklin Bell, commanding Department of the East, with 
 headquarters at Governor’s Island, N.Y., a third appeal to 
 ascertain how many of the New England men named for 
 Plattsburg are non-residents of the New England states. 
 
 Craven’s letter said that the Plattsburg New England 
 list showed that the city of Cambridge was credited with 
 244 men, or more than 10 per cent of the total, while but 
 360 were credited to Boston. The letter says in part: 
 
 “Eurther examination of the official list and the lists 
 previously published shows that most of these 244 are 
 non-resident students of Harvard University. The number 
 credited to the city of Boston is about 360. 
 
 “This crediting of these men to Cambridge, and, 
 therefore, to New England, is a subterfuge to overcome 
 your proper protest, unworthy of officers of the United 
 States army, of Harvard University, and of the men who 
 are made a party to it. 
 
 “In justice to the many eligible applicants who desire 
 appointment from Boston and who have been crowded 
 out by the selection of men who are non-residents of New 
 England, I beg you will request the issuance of orders 
 entitling Massachusetts to an additional number of men 
 equivalent to the number of non-residents of New 
 England who have been selected and charged up to New 
 England and who are legal residents of other States.” 
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
The reader will have noticed the differing numbers mentioned as 
 applicants from Boston College. Father Dullea had the number at 97 
 applicants with 96 rejections. One hundred applicants with 99 rejec- 
 dons were common numbers given. The 1916-1917 College catalog 
 listed 94 seniors, of whom 92 graduated. Father Dullea gave the 
 impression that only seniors would be considered. If that was so, his 
 numbers were too high, but it may have been that, while seniors were 
 preferred, underclassmen could also apply. In that case there could 
 easily have been 100 applicants from Boston College. One has to 
 assume that at least a few of the Boston College men who underwent 
 a physical examination in Boston on the day of their applicadon for 
 Plattsburg failed to pass the test. Indeed, on the day of his own physi- 
 cal, Tom Craven mentioned several classmates who failed the test: 
 “Jack Fleming was unable to pass. Ed Tobin has flat feet. Mulcahy is 
 underweight. Jack McCarthy has albumin. So on down the list, many 
 have been rejected.” However one hesitates to give total credence to 
 this list of ailments and physical problems as failures, because one of 
 the men named. Jack McCarthy, was the only man by that name in the 
 class and John McCarthy had, in the eyes of some Boston College peo- 
 ple, the dubious distinction of being the one applicant accepted for 
 Plattsburg. Father Dullea said that John McCarthy, a football player 
 and a wonderful person, was a close friend of his. Indeed some 13 
 years after their graduadon, on the day after his ordination. Father 
 Dullea had John McCarthy as the server at his first private Mass. 
 
 Father Dullea’s recollection of the Plattsburg episode reflected the 
 public conversation Craven was largely responsible for. He said he felt 
 there was discrimination against Boston College men: “I remember 
 when I got around to the captain who interviewed me, he asked me 
 where I went to school. I said ‘Boston College’ and he said ‘What’s 
 this Boston College? I’ve never heard of it before.’ ” When it turned 
 out that only one applicant for Boston College was successful, there 
 was an uproar. Father Dullea said that Boston College men, far from 
 trying to avoid involvement in the military, were nearly 100 percent 
 volunteers. On the Heights there was frustration, especially when the 
 numbers accepted from Ivy League colleges became known. It looked 
 as though there would be Ivy League officers giving orders to Boston 
 College men in the ranks. But there was enough of a fuss made that 
 later the Army promised it would not happen again. 
 
 When Father Dullea was asked why he sought admission to the 
 Plattsburg program when he felt called to be a Jesuit, he replied it was 
 a patriotic thing, something that had to be done for the country. But 
 once he received word from the army that he would not be called to 
 Plattsburg and that the oath he had made when he applied in April 
 
 [ 37 ] 
 
The campus as it was when the class of 1917 graduated. 
 
 was no longer binding, he felt free to apply for admission to the 
 Society of Jesus. 
 
 While Maurice Dullea knew what he would be doing in the fall of 
 1917, Tom Craven did not. On May 28 he wrote: “The thoughts of 
 conscription are haunting me and making me somewhat desperate. 
 Freed from oath taken for Plattsburg camp.” 
 
 THE END OF COLLEGE DAYS 
 
 Commencement 1917 had to be a somewhat subdued event, consid- 
 ering that the nadon was at war and many of the seniors faced mili- 
 tary service. But Craven’s diary was matter-of-fact on June 7: “Well the 
 great day is here at last. Went in town with Father and straightened 
 out my bank account. Cleared off some bills and went out to the 
 College.” The bank transacdons must have been in preparation for 
 army service. One assumes that Craven’s parents and other family 
 members attended his graduation, but perhaps these were such obvi- 
 ous facts that they were not recorded in the diary. However the diary 
 did note sadly: “Mt. St. Joseph defeated the College this morning 8-2. 
 Threatening weather spoiled somewhat the exercises this afternoon. 
 Nevertheless the speeches of [John] Fihelly, [Charles] Twomey, 
 [John] Connolly, and [Francis] Quinn were most impressive and 
 
 [ 38 ] 
 
solemn.” Quite appropriately, considering the ominous world situa- 
 tion, each senior oration was on the subject of patriotism. 
 
 Similar to his not mentioning the presence of his parents at his 
 graduation was Craven’s omission of any reference to the commence- 
 ment speaker, who was Father Charles Lyons, perhaps the most elo- 
 quent orator ever to be president of Boston College. For Craven, 
 there was no point in recording the fact that the president’s address 
 to the graduates was outstanding. 
 
 Graduation brought closure to the student days of the class of 
 1917, so this essay could appropriately end here. But Tom Craven’s 
 diary continued, and several later entries are pertinent. On Sunday, 
 July 29, he wrote: “I went over to a farewell party at Maurice Dullea’s. 
 Maurice leaves for St. Andrew’s tomorrow to begin his study with the 
 Jesuits.” The novitiate for the Maryland-New York province was St. 
 Andrew-on-the Hudson, Poughkeepsie, N.Y. 
 
 On Saturday, August 11, Craven wrote: “Received word from the 
 Army headquarters to report to Fort Ethan Allen, VT [for training as 
 a hospital attendant]. Mother came [to the haberdashery where he 
 worked] with the notice and I immediately quit my job.” Five days 
 later, on August 10, the diary contained a terse, two-word message: 
 “Left home.” 
 
 So Thomas Craven, blessed with gifts of dynamic energy, initiative, 
 and determination — surely cherished attributes of leadership — 
 spent his years of service to his country as a sergeant, not as an officer. 
 Upon return to civilian life, he did not become the journalist he 
 seemed destined to be, but a schoolman. For many years he was prin- 
 cipal of the Mather School District on Meeting House Hill in 
 Dorchester, comprised of four elementary schools. He retired in 
 1964. He died in 1987 at the age of 94, leaving Boston College, his 
 alma mater, a substantial bequest. 
 
 Craven’s classmate. Father Maurice Dullea, lived out his years with 
 the Jesuit community at Boston College. He died in 1984 at the age of 
 88. Craven and Dullea — worthy carriers of the banner of the pioneer 
 class of 1917. 
 
 ENDNOTES 
 
 1. Nathaniel J. Hasenfus, ’22, Athletics at Boston College (privately published, 
 1943), p. 89. 
 
 2. No Edward Lewis Lawlor is found in the College catalogs of 1913-1918. 
 There is, however, an Edward A. Lawlor from Brookline listed as a freshman 
 in 1915-1916 and a sophomore in 1916-1917. Edward A. Lawlor is not 
 
 [391 
 
included in the student lists in the following two catalogs, 1917-1918 or 
 1918-1919. 
 
 Since there was only one Lawlor on the class lists for 1915-1917, and 
 Edward Lewis Lawlor was definitely a student, elected associate editor of the 
 Stylus in March 1917 (cf. 1916-1917 Stylus, p. 287) and listed on the staff of 
 the Stylus in subsequent issues, Edward A. and Edward Lewis had to be the 
 same person. It may be that the College used the middle initial on Lawlor’s 
 application, whereas the young man chose to use a different middle name. 
 
 3. Father Jones I. Corrigan was ordained in 1912. The fact that the next 
 year he was assigned to teach ethics at the Jesuit seminary, Woodstock 
 College, indicated he was considered a man of outstanding competence. He 
 also taught ethics at Loyola College in Baltimore before being sent to Boston 
 College in 1916. Thus he was in his first year at Boston College when the class 
 of 1917 had him as professor of ethics. He was then 39 years of age. 
 
 The writer of this essay about the class of 1917 had Father Corrigan as 
 ethics professor in 1932-1933. He was by all odds my most impressive teacher 
 at the College — earnest, clear, and dynamic, with the assurance of a sea- 
 soned public lecturer. A bit on the formal side. Father Corrigan rarely 
 indulged in humor or small talk. He had a pedagogical practice that kept the 
 class attuned to his lectures. On Monday mornings he held what the students 
 called his “electric chair”: A member of the class would be called to the stage 
 of the assembly hall, where he sat in a chair next to the professor’s lectern 
 and was grilled for perhaps ten minutes by Father Corrigan on one of the 
 ethics theses recently analyzed. 
 
 In the years between the graduation of the class of 1917 and Father 
 Corrigan’s sudden death in 1936 at age 58, he became a prominent repre- 
 sentative of the Catholic Church on public platforms in New England. He was 
 ahead of his time in denouncing so-called “mercy killings,” and he railed 
 against divorce. His was an eloquent voice against Communism. 
 
 Regarding the “Plattsburg incident,” it should be remembered that the 
 president, Father Charles Lyons, called an assembly of the seniors on April 
 25 and supported the war effort and the possibility of Boston College men 
 being trained to be officers. Faculty meetings were not in vogue in those days 
 and it may be that Father Lyons’ address to the seniors was the first the 
 faculty knew of a College policy on the Plattsburg opportunity. Father 
 Corrigan’s outburst in class the next day, April 26, may have been a faculty 
 member’s message to the administration concerning academic concerns 
 that he felt had not been addressed. However, the contest between president 
 and professor became moot when the lords of Plattsburg accepted only one 
 Boston College man, and the other seniors completed their courses and 
 examinations as scheduled. 
 
 Photographs provided by the Boston College Archives. 
 Photographic reproductions by Gary Gilbert, 
 
 Boston College Office of Communications. 
 
 [ 40 ] 
 
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