I have been in a somewhat reflective mood lately, thinking back over my life and some people during my school days who had a great influence on me.
Mrs. Brooks
Nell Brooks was my third grade teacher. I started third grade in the fall of 1960. The school was already overcrowded just four years after it opened. We were on split sessions. I attended the afternoon session.
Back in the fifties the State of California used the Iowa State Standardized Test to assess student abilities and place students in programs suited to their abilities. I think third grade was the grade students were first tested. I had been in the slow arithmetic and reading groups in first and second grades. I was fine with that. My mom later told me she got a phone call from Mrs. Brooks one afternoon, who told my mom her little boy was going to have to start working.
We were still seated at tables rather than desks in third grade. Mrs. Brooks put a boy named Wally next to me at my table. I had a great time with Wally. We would race to see who could finish his work first. This was also the year we learned cursive. I think part of the reason my handwriting is so poor is because I also raced to do my handwriting lessons rather than learning and practicing good penmanship.
Despite my efforts to avoid having to work too hard, Mrs. Brooks did not allow me to “succeed”. She would keep me after school if she thought it would help. I don’t think I ever had any other teacher keep me after school. I was fond of Mrs. Brooks, though I did not understand why at the time. She transferred to another school the next year. I saw a picture of her in the town’s newspaper that fall. She was dressed as a witch for Halloween. I saw the humor in that. She was thought by many in my class to be a witch. I did not see her like that. I liked Mrs. Brooks.
Mr. Garcia
Lloyd J. Garcia was the principal of my elementary school when I was in fifth grade. He was a stern looking man. I brought a deck of playing cards to school one day. During recess I was showing other kids how to play Blackjack. Mr. Garcia saw us and came over with his hand outstretched. I gave him the cards. He returned them at the end of the day.
I went to a junior high school in sixth grade. All of the classrooms were connected by inside hallways with lockers. It was a noisy and congested space and had only been open for one year when I started there. The hallways between classes were like feeding time in the big cats building at the zoo. That changed the following year when Mr. Garcia became principal of the junior high school. He remembered me, in a good way. He never had any trouble with me and I never had any trouble with him.
Mr. Yardas
My family moved to a new town after I completed eighth grade so when I started high school that fall I was completely unknown, which worked to my advantage.
The fact that I had Spanish 1 and Algebra 1 in junior high meant I was in Geometry and Spanish 2 as a freshman. I also was an accomplished musician so I was in the Concert Band rather than the Cadet Band. I looked older than the typical freshman and was only in freshman classes for P.E., English and Social Studies. Most people assumed I was at least a sophomore if not a junior, which saved me from dealing with hazing.
John Yardas was my band director. John was a Marine. I learned not to refer to anyone as a former Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine.
John was an excellent band director. He encouraged section members to challenge those above them. I did that several times. The challenger and the challenged would perform the same music in front of the rest of the band. The band members would vote. It was good experience and the competition helped improve the quality of the band.
During football season the band became a marching band. John ran the band like a Marine band. Before each game, we stood for inspection in uniform and in formation while John inspected each person for hair length. Boys were growing their hair longer. If the hair was over the collar, a demerit was given. Same went for shoes and sloppy uniforms. These demerits would affect the grade received.
Mr. Denegri
In my senior year California dropped the requirement for English for seniors. I took a course in Modern European Literature taught by Raymond Denegri. Ray was a classicist, who also taught Latin. He taught the literature in the context of what was going on in Europe, from the Song of Roland in the 11th century through the 20th century up to 1970. It was one of the best classes I ever took at any level. Ray inspired me to love reading, especially novels that would cause you to think. It was a wonderful experience to discover the pleasure of reading good works and being challenged to think while you did so.
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I remained friends with John and Ray up until the time they died. I even had the pleasure of performing in bands with John as a musician, not the director.
When I was in college I took a day off and went to the town I grew up in. I went to the school district office and asked about Mrs. Brooks and Mr. Garcia. I was pleased to learn they were both teaching in elementary schools in the district.
I went to see Mr. Garcia first. Fortunately, he had an open period. We sat and visited in the teachers lounge during his break. He remembered me. He told me about how the culture of the schools had changed in the ten years or so since I had been in junior high. Discipline had gone by the wayside. Our visit wasn’t very long but was very satisfying.
I then went to see Mrs. Brooks. The school day had ended but she was still in her classroom. I introduced myself and she thought a while to put my name in context with the class I was in. She asked me, “Was that the class with the boy Wally?” I told her it was. She told me Wally had been dying when we were in the third grade. She put him at the table with me so I could have a good influence on him. I never knew that.
While thinking about these people I realized discipline was an important part of life’s lesson I learned from them. They helped me appreciate the importance of the arts, especially music and literature. I think all four of these people were important for the foundation of my development into adulthood. They were not alone, but I believe they were the key principals to do that.
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Fr. Aldridge
Fr. Wilson Aldridge, S.J., was my Latin 2 teacher at The University of San Francisco in 1971. There were only three of us in the class. Languages were not my forte. I have taken three years of Spanish at the high school level and three semesters of Latin at the college level, yet my brain is a sieve when it comes to those languages.
Fr. Aldridge’s influence on me was not like that of the others I have cited. I did not (and still don’t) really know anything about him. While he seemed much older, I assume he was in his later fifties or early sixties at the time. I never once had a personal conversation with him. I wish I had. He did me a great kindness: he gave me a passing grade. But that is not why I credit him with having a great influence on me.
We held class in the priests’ residence hall. When we were ready one of us would ask one of the switchboard operators to please call Fr. Aldridge and ask him to come down and meet with us.
I was struck by the image of the man as he walked toward us, using a cane. His hands were grossly misshapen; his knuckles grotesquely swollen. While he never mentioned it, I assumed he had rheumatoid arthritis. While it must have been very painful, Fr. Aldridge never showed pain or irritability. He wore a beautiful smile every time I saw him.
The Mona Lisa’s Italian name is La Gioconda. The masculine is il giocondo and both can be translated as “the joyful one.” That is what I think when I think of Fr. Aldridge. Joy in the face of pain. The photo that heads this essay is from the 1960-1961 Santa Clara University yearbook. While that photo does not show a clear smile I do see a smile in his eyes. Maybe he thought a somewhat reserved look was more appropriate to his position. In my mind he was always happy, with a great sense of humor.
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Last March I posted an essay On Joy. I mentioned a story of a fellow Knight of Columbus telling me, “You know Gillen, you’re the only man I know who smiles all the time and is not a complete idiot.” I’m proud to have someone think that of me. Mrs. Brooks, Mr. Garcia, Mr. Yardas and Mr. Denegri all influenced me in becoming the man I am. They did it by word as well as example. They each have a special place in my heart.
Fr. Aldridge influenced me in a way I did not recognize until I was much older. His influence was truly caused by example. God is always using us to teach others; to help us to influence others to live their lives in a way that is pleasing to God. I thank God for filling my heart with joy so that others can see it on my face. I thank Fr. Aldridge for being a quiet example of this. I hope some time in eternity I can thank him for that.
Greg Gillen
May 29, 2025
© 2025 Greg Gillen
Image Credit/scholarcommons.scu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?params=/context/redwood/article/1055/&path_info=redwood1961.pdf
La Gioconda – Joyful One/en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Gioconda
