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Frank Stannard, S BSc 45
Gloucester, Ont.
I have many fond memories of my days at Sir George, of conversations with Dean Hall and Doug Clarke. My wife remembers Professor Claude Thompson, who, at the final Alumni Dinner, gently advised her as she started to light a cigarette, “We usually take an after-dinner cigarette only after we have toasted the Queen.”
Simson Najovits, S BA (poli. sci. & lit.) 59 Paris, France
In my days (1955-59), Sir George had some extraordinarily erudite and motivated professors. I remember many of them fondly, and especially the head of English literature, Neil Compton.
Neil Compton understood Shakespeare, James Joyce and many others, including rising Canadian writers like Mordecai Richler, better than most people I’ve met or studied since. After being paralyzed by polio, he taught from a motorized wheelchair and used a special device so that his weak voice could be heard. Courage, knowledge and an interest in discovering young writers in his classes put him in a unique category. He died accidentally when his wheelchair tumbled over when an elevator didn’t stop exactly at floor level. He convinced me that writing was the most important thing in life — and I believed him and guess that I still do.
Walter L. Kozub, L BA 64 Montreal
In my days at Loyola College (the early ’60s), the Records Office was on the main floor of the Administration Building on the right side of the grand doors that nobody used. The whole corridor was full of offices and there was always typewriter noise.
On my way to pay for my grad ring, I stopped to look at the poster to admire my choice. As I stood there, I heard one of the secretaries cry out, “Oh no . . . God no . . . oh my God, my God. . . .”
The secretary across the corridor asked what was wrong. “Turn on the radio! Turn on the radio! Somebody just shot the president of the United States. Somebody just shot John F. Kennedy!”
I didn’t move, I didn’t think, I just stood there. I guess that the secretary brought the radio to the intercom because a little later, the whole college heard the first on-the-spot reports from Dallas.
Noel Ryan, S BA 64 Mississauga, Ont.
A major privilege for me was the opportunity to earn a university degree in the evening classes at Sir George. The classes with [writer-in- residence] Irving Layton led me to become a published poet and gain some recognition as a writer. The following was written from a scene at Sir George:
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Balanced Life
Slap, slap,
go the twisted feet;
irregular pendulums
swinging hard against
rain-slicked sidewalk.
Supporting braces
jangle like spurs
won learning to
balance life:
canes in one hand,
books in the other.
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Jim Supple, L BSc (physics) 72
Ottawa
I remember marching out in a thin line from the Admin Building, which we had occupied overnight, past the black-suited Montreal riot police equipped with clear shields and helmets with visors. No violence — I guess they were tipped we were science majors!
Jan McConnell, BA 76 Chateauguay, Que.
As a so-called “older student” with five school-aged children, it was with some trepidation I entered my first Concordia class in 1974, Children’s Literature, taught by Francelia Butler, visiting Professor from UConn.
A perfect choice, I thought, for as she introduced herself she said, “I went back to university, received my PhD and became a professor in spite of the many who tried to stop me with those three F-words: female, fat and fifty. My course at UConn was referred to as Kitty Lit. But now with 300 upper classmen per session, I think it has caught on.” Francelia Butler died in 1998, but her contribution will continue through her hundreds of students, some of whom still share the memory.
Carolyn Gammon, MA 89
Berlin, Germany
Hey gals! Remember the Lesbian Studies Coalition of Concordia (LSCC) that met regularly from 1987 to ’92 in the basement lounge of the Simone de Beauvoir Institute, only to discover this very room had been the underground lesbian bar in the ’70s, Madame Arthur’s?
Remember first putting those two words together — Lesbian Studies — and believing it could happen? Remember that first tentative meeting in September 1987 when even three professors came and The Link sent a guy to report on this women-only meeting? (He reported!)
Remember that incredible thrill when all our work came to fruition and the first accredited openly Lesbian Studies course in Canada was held at Concordia in the Spring of 1990?
And gals, remember too that all along we carried on our own extra-curricular program with such titles as “Coming Out Stories — tell your own,” or “Unlearning anti-Semitism” or “Madonna, Dildos and Dykes”? Remember how wild, innovative and courageous we all thought we were? Well . . . we were!