I agree about the alcohol.

 I agree about the alcohol. 

On September 17, 2012, I was teaching the late general chemistry class and I received a phone call from Paula's best friend letting me know Paula had been in a bad accident.  I, my wife and my three other children rushed to St Mary’s Hospital in Palm Beach to be with her.   

My beautiful daughter was in a coma, hit by a drunk driver. 

In a true testament to  her resilience, with a lot of work and help from God, excellent medical intervention and two firefighters/paramedics who happened to be on the scene coming back from a hunting trip when the accident occurred, she survived.  

She went on to obtain her doctorate in pharmacy in 2017. She currently works at CVS Pharmacy and teaches part time at FIU.   She is okay.  She is more than okay.  She is my beautiful daughter.  I have learned a lot from her.  

Although I may enjoy a drink every now and then, I have no time for irresponsible drinking.

One day I will tell you the whole story of her recovery.  It is inspiring, but it is painful for me to experience it again.  Her story appeared on the front page of the Palm Beach Post.  The link is below.  

https://www.palmbeachpost.com/story/news/local/2017/05/20/woman-graduates-college-years-after/7899304007/

Woman graduates college years after awful wreck caused by drunk driver Paula Lopez-Trigo had just started her second year of pharmacy school and was cruising down Interstate 95 near the Blue Heron Boulevard exit when a Jeep Cherokee driven by a woman with an empty bottl… www.palmbeachpost.com

Be well; take care of yourselves and fight on!

Written 4/29/22

 Around two years ago, in early October, I received a phone call from Giz. He told me Nestor was in town. Giz wanted to arrange a visit with Mr. Mederos, Nestor’s dad, and our math teacher. I loved the idea and we arranged to meet at Mr. Mederos’s house at a certain time. Fabio, Rocky, Giz, and Moose were going to say hello to two old friends: Nestor Mederos and Nestor Mederos.  

 

I began thinking about our days in LaSalle. I also wanted to ask Mr. Mederos a question. It had been bothering me for a long time.

 

The day arrived and Fabio called. He was not going to be able to go due to health issues.  Little did I know that would be the last time I would speak to Fabio.  Then Gizmo called. He had another commitment. He could not go. Both of them were disappointed. I know they both wanted to go spend some time with both Nestors.  

 

Rocky and I met outside the house. Then we called Nestor and he came out to greet us. We both went inside the house and Mr. Mederos was there. He was looking amazing! It was a real pleasure seeing an old friend.  

 

The house was a nice house, very comfortable. We sat in the living room. Someone commented about the artwork. I had been to Mr. Mederos’s homes, both in the Roads and in Coral Gables and did not remember that much artwork. They looked like Lladrós, lots of Lladrós. Lourdes and I had recently purchased one and they were pricey. Mr. Mederos said they may look like Lladrós, but they are not. They are actually Mederós. He and Nestor said that since he had retired, he had to find something to do so he took up art. I was impressed. Nestor was proud of his dad. They showed me some of the sculptures. I am not an art critic, but I thought they were really good. Nestor then said that he also has paintings. We went to another room, a studio, and he showed notebooks full of watercolor paintings. Some were works in progress. There was one I particularly liked of two young girls, I guess around six years old each, they looked like sisters. They may have been the same girls but with different expressions. I liked the expressions on their faces. We then sat down in the living room. We continued talking. We each spoke a little bit about ourselves and our families. Nestor talked about the time that his mom discovered he was the opening act for Julio Iglesias. Mr. Mederos smiled as they were reminiscing. I was most curious about Mr. Mederos. After he left LaSalle, he went to teach in a school in Miami Lakes. He really liked to teach those kids because he was serving a good purpose. Those children really needed him. He felt like he made a real difference in that school. We kept talking about other interesting things. I told him that when I teach my classes about anything involving the Pythagorean Theorem, I remember him fondly. I also pronounce it as the Peetagorean Theorem. My students usually laugh at the way I say it. I tell them because that is the way I learned it. That is the way it should be pronounced. They usually do not realize I am just messing with them. They think I learned that in the old country. We then spoke about the treasured reward for an educator; to be a positive influence in someone’s life. A couple of times Mr. Mederos told Nestor “Mira a ver si hay algo para servirle a los muchachos” (Check to see what we can serve the boys). That really reminded me of the days when a group of us were studying at his house. He would say that to Nestor and Ms. Mederos. Brought back good memories. Also do you know how long it has been that someone refers to me as a “muchacho”?  

 

I had heard of Mr. Mederos long before I had met him. He was my brother’s and sister’s math teacher in ILS. He remembered my sister, Teresa even now. His family lived on 26^th road, right next to Sts Peter and Paul. I used to deliver newspapers and would pass by his house in my bicycle every day to go to my paper route. I of course knew Nestor very well. I met Mr. Mederos in Geometry Class in the seven hundred building. He was a nice man, more comfortable speaking in Spanish, but fluent in English. He was easy to listen to. He had studied law in the old country. At times he had a certain way of saying things with a certain smile and I did not know whether he was being serious or just messing with you. He made geometry fun. Well at least I know I had a blast. I am being serious about that. Occasionally, he would assign a problem for us to solve. Usually, it was some kind of proof. Then he would say Extra Points! I remember me, Rocky, Gizmo and Fabio frantically trying to work it out. The first couple of students who would get the answer would get a + 2 in red in their notebook. Sometimes he would give you three points. One time I got five points. I never did get seven. It would have had to be a difficult problem. At the end of the grading period, he would tally the extra points and he would add it to your grades. For proud nerds like me that was important. It made the class fun. I looked forward to going to his class. The extra points helped. I try to emulate that in the introductory Chemistry Classes in College. More important than the extra points were that we did not want to disappoint him. We wanted to impress him. Subsequently I also took Algebra 2 with him, I was happy to be in his class.  

 

I wanted to ask Mr. Mederos a question. It had been bothering me for a long time. I was finally going to get the chance. I did so when we were walking back from the studio to the living room. It was in 1974; I was taking Algebra 2. We were taking the final exam. I completed the exam early. And, to help a friend who, I shall not name, I passed my scrap paper with my notes from the exam back to my friend. He was struggling to finish the exam. I went to the front and handed in my exam. A few minutes later Mr. Mederos asked me: “Ramon where is your scrap paper.”  I did not know what to do. So, I said something very loudly like: “So you are asking for my scrap paper; kind of imitating Agent 86” I said it again and my friend who had the scrap paper slipped the paper into the crevice between his desk and the back of my chair. Somehow the air currents played tricks on us, and the paper very slowly, ever so slowly floated down, swinging back and forth, between the two rows of desks. I snatched it while it was still in midair. The paper was floating right in front of Mr. Mederos. I then gave the paper to Mr. Mederos. There is no way Mr. Mederos could have missed that. He knew what was happening but purposely ignored it. After all these years I finally was going to ask him the question. Did he know I helped someone cheat? I asked him if he remembered that. I asked him if he knew that I had given the student behind me paper so he could copy it. Mr. Mederos said no he did not remember. I dropped the topic. I did not want to remind him. Did not want to disappoint him.

 

We continued talking for a couple of hours. I and Mr. Mederos talked about teaching and the “new methods of teaching.”  After a little while, Rocky and I decided to bid our farewells; it was getting late. Just before we got up and took a picture of the group, Mr. Mederos said to me quietly so only I could hear him: “Estoy muy orgulloso de ti”    

  

That must be worth at least seventy times seven extra points.  

 

Thank you, Mr. Mederos. Thank you for all you did for us and being a wonderful example to all of us. 

 

A couple of weeks ago I called Nestor to see how they were. They are fine. Mr. Mederos now lives in California, with Nestor and Nestor’s wife, Inga. And they are doing fine. 

Fight on! 

-Moose 

senior film

 Hey Rocky, 

Thanks for sharing the movie with us.  It literally brought back memories.  

I had forgotten that when it was first shown we had three projectors. Two for slides and the movie. Now I remember that and how impressed I was by it.  I later saw a professional show using that technique.  Our senior film was better done.  

I began thinking of what I remember about the wrap.   

I think it took place on a Sunday, I am not sure.  I vaguely remember returning from Sts. Peter and Paul Church and someone telling me that Mono had either come by or phoned.  He seemed to be trying to say something to my dad but he was not being very clear.  My dad told him I had left to wrap the school. Mono was trying to avoid saying what we were going to do.  My dad had already raised four of us that graduated from ILS.  He knew the ritual.  Although to be truthful I do not think he realized the magnitude of the project.  Neither did I.  Also most classes before us did it after they had graduated.  We did it before graduation.  Real risk takers we are.  There was the threat of not graduating. 

I was not even aware this was planned but Victor must have called to let me know and that he would pick me up.  I think my dad knew about the wrap before I did.   

Victor Hugo Padron, whom I miss very much, picked me up at my home and we drove to the rendezvous point, the parking lot at Coral Way Elementary.  There a pickup truck would pick us up.  Our only instructions were: bring a screwdriver.  I kept wondering if it should be flathead or Philips head screwdriver.  Are we going to take something apart?  I had no idea.  We arrived at our destination.  A number of other operatives were already present, I do not remember who.  All of us loaded to the back of the pickup truck and were dropped off at the second rendezvous point, the drop off site outside the seawall, north of the high jump pit but closer to the trees.  In the pickup truck a lead operator explained that we were to jump the sea wall and gather, I am not sure where, and wait for further instructions.  I had placed the Philips head screwdriver in my pocket.  I jumped the seawall and almost performed an impromptu appendectomy on myself but I was okay.   We gathered and awaited our instructions.  Since I really did not know what was going on I really felt I was on some kind of mission.  The theme from Mission Impossible kept playing in my head.  I considered that the soundtrack to our adventure.    

We were notified of the third rendezvous point.  It was one of the classrooms closest to the main office in the Immaculata Building.  They had rigged the locks of the doors so we could access the room after hours.  There, Gary Nellis was present, dressed in full army regalia.  Gary can tell you what the regalia was; he looked great.   There, we were explained the process going forward.   

Operatives had been picked up at several points in the neighborhood.  There were several strategically placed lookouts at the drop off site.   There were operatives on the roof of the science building. They had a signal system letting us know to hide since people or law enforcement was around.   

Our colleagues had acquired 472 packages of toilet paper which had been “donated” by the Four Ambassadors” hotel chain.  I am not all that sure of the number.  We apparently had contacts on the inside. These were stored below Portable J where now the girls’ softball practice field is located.  There was much preparation for the event.  Wire had been criss crossed in the field behind the cafeteria were many guys have fond memories of hunting beaver after lunch.  We were also told what the purpose of the screwdrivers was.  We would use them as spindles from which to unwind the toilet paper.  We were also warned about the possible dangers of putting them in your pocket when jumping the seawall.  (Thanks!) We would separate by groups and each group would consist of several pairs of operatives. We worked in pairs and one would throw the toilet paper up into a tree or other structure, in such a way so it would unwind.  The partner would catch it and throw it back.    The blackboard had drawn up plans of regions to wrap first; which group would do each job.  Apparently, there were a number of rendezvous points where pickup trucks would pick up the operatives.   I remember very little about the meeting in the room.  I remember generalities.  I do remember Carlitos and his beer belly.  That is so clear to me.  Do not know why.  It must have been impressive.   

We had a great time that evening.  We did not cause any permanent damage, thiswas important to me and to all of us.  I do not remember particulars of the wrapping itself.   

Early in the morning, while it was still dark, the police arrived.  Apparently there was some yelling and someone called.  I remember running to the original rendezvous point, the pickup trucks would pick us up in groups.  We quietly hid and waited for the pickup trucks.  I finally arrived home, via pickup truck followed by a ride from Victor.  I barely has enough time to take a shower, make and drink around four coladas to look awake, get dressed and wait for Rocky to pick me up at home.   

The next day, at the usual time, we arrived at the school. As we drove from the entrance to the parking lot, we saw the campus.  It was beautiful, it was surreal.  When I recently saw a Christo sculpture, it reminded me of our own artwork, in the field behind the cafeteria.  It looked amazing. 

You could tell who had participated.  This was not difficult.  We were the ones that looked wired on coffee.  I remember talking to one of the young ladies and she told me she was so proud of all of us.  I think she realized I had been a part of it.  I do not know how.  

During third period, we were all called in to an emergency assembly.  Father Lechiara spoke to the class and basically told the class that all of it had to be cleaned up.  He also said to start now.  If any paper was left, the whole class would not graduate.   

We spent the day cleaning up the campus.  It was all back to normal except for some toilet paper at the top of the Australian Pines.  I was proud that no permanent damage was done and that the campus was picked up.    

Much later, when I saw the senior film, the mission impossible soundtrack was quickly replaced by Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.  It was listening to that soundtrack when Rocky posted it, that brought all these memories.  It is amazing how music brings back memories of certain instances we appreciate.    

Thanks Rock 

Fight on  

Moose 

 

Vizcaya

 I was inspired by Elvis's pictures of Vizcaya under construction.

I found some additional picures from Vizcaya at around that time.

I used Google Earth to find some landmarks

Below is the same view many years later

And below is the same pictures with landmarks labeled

I think I have way too much time on my hands.

best

Moose

John

 I met John in the fifth grade, I think.  He was in my class with Miss Flynn.   We were in Sts Peter and Paul elementary school.  I remember I liked him.  We did not speak very much.  He usually spoke in English, I understood the language well but could not express myself fully.  At that time, before the school day would begin, we would line up outside where the flag is and recite the Pledge of Allegiance.  We had a little time before Sister Louise Angela would call us in.  She would then direct traffic into the school with a certain type of noise maker to keep us all in line. One time, a little before school started,  I met this guy who looked curiously similar to John.  I told Fabio: Hay dos (There are two!).  I had never seen them together.   Fabio then told me all about them.  One was John and the other was Frank.  They were approximately the same age.   I remember that specifically because I and my brother Carlos were also of similar age.  Frank and John were both in the same class.   I remember wishing Carlos and I were in the same class.  I do not know if envy was the right word but I did think they were fortunate to be together.    I remember John sat to my right and two seats behind.  One time he asked me for a pen and I was about to give it to him.  As I reached back I hit the edge of the desk with the back of the pen.  I jabbed myself in my palm and bled.   That was a bad idea.   I still have the scar.  That probably the only reason I remember John in that class.   

I got to know both John and Frank well.  They lived in a house, close to Coral Way and South from mine. My house was on their way to their home.  John and Frank walked to their home and saw me and my brothers playing football in the front yard.  They stopped to play.  This became a ritual.  Cousin George also came along.  We had a lot of fun.  The field was maybe 30 yards between end zones.  Going long meant a pattern of maybe 10 yards.  The south end zone was Julio Mechoso’s concrete driveway.  This was paved with very rough concrete.  There was a palm tree on the north end zone.  Instead of a flag we had a bush or what remained of the bush.    When you ran a flag pattern you had to be careful not to run into the bush.  When you ran a post pattern you would have to watch out for the palm tree.  A down and out would run into the sidewalk, or the house. We could not have a running game, or we could get hurt very badly with the driveway.  We played a lot during that time.  It was the most fun I ever had playing football.  It was great playing with both my family and John and Frank and Cousin George and sometimes other classmates who would join us.   

I am saying all this because this is the last conversation I had with John. He called me.  He wanted me to join him next year at LaSalle Bros Joe’s Stone Crab Feast.  It had just taken place.  Elvis invites me every year; I always want to go.  I hate to disappoint the young lady Elvis claims is expecting me. 

John and I had a great conversation.  We reminisced about playing football in such an intricate field.  I told him that occasionally, as I drive by my old house, I feel like asking the current owners if we can stop by, gather the gang, and toss the old football around.    We remembered old times in Sts  Peter and Paul, old times at LaSalle, old times at University of Miami.  It was like we were then.  I told him I would try to go to the Feast next year.  I explained to him about Carlos’s (my bro) illness.  And we kept talking. I was so grateful he called.  I promised I would not disappoint that young lady Elvis claims is expecting me next year and that I would see the gang then.   

Carlos passed two weeks later.   

A few days later my sister, Sister Rosa called me.  She saw John at St. Kieran’s.  He had stopped by to pray for Carlos.  She told me she was touched.  She told me they had a great conversation.   John then called me at my office.  He left me a beautiful voice mail message which I saved and will forever treasure.  

With this letter I am saying Thank you John.  

Thank you for calling me that day.  I was in a bad place, and you helped bring me back.  You made me remember the good times when all of us played together at the old house, running a post pattern, avoiding the palm tree and the stump with Carlos, Frank and Cousin George.  Thank you for the message you left.  Thank you for being a friend. 

Today I am proud to be member of my class.  The outpouring of good will, support and just kindness towards John. Frank and their beautiful family as they traverse this difficult time has been nothing short of impressive. Thank you all.  

I love you all.   

Best  

Moose.