So where did Dad fit in with yesterday’s post about 8th grade graduation? He and Mom were both born in 1930 (his birthday is May 28, so he’s slightly younger). He should have been in that photo, too, right?

One would think …

Dad’s family moved from Lowell, Massachusetts, to New Haven in 1943. They moved in right across the street from the Cassidys on Chatham Street. The Vayos at number 32 and the Cassidys at 33.

Dad started out in Mom’s class. She remembers well how the first day or two, young Harold would turn and bow before leaving the classroom.

That’s what we were taught to do in school at Lowell, explains Dad. It was a sign of respect to the “spirits” remaining in the room.

Spirits? I asked Dad if that meant guardian angels. Yes, plus any other hangers-on from the afterlife. Huh.

Apparently, this was not a practice at St. Francis School and Dad caught on quickly that the spirits in New Haven did not require any sort of sign as he left the room.

Before we move on to why Dad wasn’t in the graduation photo, here he is with several of his siblings a few years earlier:

Alright, so when Dad started in St. Francis School, he transferred to the same grade level. About six weeks in, all that changed.

One day, the nun was teaching her class about triangles, more specifically those with right angles. Dad’s school back in Lowell had included lessons in geometry and trigonometry. As the nun walked the class through how to determine the length of the hypotenuse, Dad couldn’t help himself:

“Sister – that’s impossible!”

You see, Dad remembered the Pythagorean theorem. Sister, apparently, did not.

Dad still sounds a little distressed when he insists he was just trying to be helpful. (Fear not, father dear, I know that feeling only too well. We’ll add that to the list of unfortunates I’ve inherited from you: near-sightedness, gapped front teeth, unwelcome helpfulness.)

A few hours later, young Harold was summoned to the principal’s office. He was to be transferred out of St. Francis School. It was off to high school with him!

So Dad’s knowledge of angles caused him to skip a grade. (He remembers the uniforms at St. Mary’s High School as “hideous – gray and green.”)

Here he is the year after graduation. It’s 1948 and he’s 18 years old.

Dad’s family moved back to Lowell in 1947, but he never forgot his Joanie. They’d gone steady since they were 14 and married in 1952, when they were 22. Whether you believe in happily ever afters or guardian angels, it seems Dad’s long-ago bows to the spirits were well received. And remembered.

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