If by jelly jars, you mean canning jars(my mom did a lot of canning, including jelly), I do believe I remember my mother using them as drinking glasses (or maybe it was my grandmother). Anyway, I remember seeing these jars in the garage with nails/screws in them and also using them to keep bugs or some kind in them, pokig a couple airholes in the top. I laugh as I say this because I am sno NOT a nature girl now that I'd even consider catching bugs.

TIS

Yeah we would use jelly/mason jars to drink out of. Matter of fact I have a couple of them in my cabinet that I use to drink out of.

Welch's began the tradition of packaging jelly in commemorative jars that were designed to be used as drinking glasses in 1953. Its first subject was Howdy Doody. It was such a success that new series were released every couple of years. Others who were honored included Davy Crockett, the aforementioned Flintstones (three different series released in the early 60's), the Archies, Bugs Bunny and other Warner Brothers characters, football teams, Tom and Jerry, Dr. Seuss, and many others.

Wow, Olivant. I remember a lot of those. I remember the Flintstones vividly, but I guess a guy your age remembers the actual dinosaurs, huh?

I also had one as a pet. I trained him to fetch the Stone Gazette.

So the dinosaurs and the humans did co-exist.

Sarah Palin's a genius .

10 REASONS WHY I OWE MY MOTHER


1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .
'If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning.'

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
'You better pray that will come out of the carpet.'

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL .
'If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!'

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
' Because I said so, that's why.'

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC .
'If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me.'

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
'Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident.'

7. My mother taught me IRONY
'Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about.'

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
'Shut your mouth and eat your supper.'

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM .
'Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!'

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
'You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone.'

As a kid i remember being desperate to be older!

Now i am older i wish i was young again

My childhood lasted much longer than my children's did.

Looking back on the posts in this thread, I was reminded of the awe in which we held kids who attended Catholic schools. They regaled us with vivid tales of the brutality of the Brothers and Sisters--what would happen to girls whose skirts weren't well below the knee, or who wore scarves to hide hickeys; or to guys who mouthed off. Later, when I entered the work force, I'd meet guys who'd gone through Catholic schools. "What was the teaching order?" I'd ask. "The Irish Christian Brothers," they'd spit out (in NYC, they had the reputation for being the most brutal--the Jesuits were considered too intellectual to get physical). "Did they beat you up?" "Dey beat da piss outta me!" "Would you send your kids to Catholic school?" "Yeah, sure! Teach 'em discipline."

As for jelly glasses: When I lived in genteel Summit NJ, the Central Presbyterian Church had a nice series of concerts at noontimes during Lent. People were encouraged to bring brown bag lunches. All the old ladies in town showed up with watercress sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper, and jelly glasses filled with milk.

You know I went to a Catholic school from 4th thru 7th grade. Were the nuns intimidating? Yes!!! Was the school strict? Yes! As a matter of fact, I did more poorly at Catholic school then I did at public school, which might be considered a plus as far as education goes for the Catholic school.

However, as strict as the nuns were, I never recall anybody being mistreated or manhandled or hit with a ruler, etc. Maybe I am in the minority. I don't know. I hear many stories from others like TB shared.

My school (and parish) was an Italian Parish with the Priest and nuns (I forgot which order the nuns were?? Consolota..they wore gray habits) right from the old country...they all spoke very broken English. Of course, so did my grandmothers (who really didn't speak English), so I guess I was kind of use to it.

On thing that makes me look back and chuckle is when Sister Celestia would get frustrated because we were all talking and horsing around, she would grab a stack of books on her desk, keeping them in a pile and then holding them, slammed them on the desk 3 or four times, saying in broken English..."mah....Is eeeet posseeble?" Ha ha..she'd get so frustrated. But, we did listen. She never had to do that twice in a day if I recall.

Oh, and when our Priest, Father Davanzo, walked in the room, we stood and as a group said, "Good Morning Father". He was kind of a scary Priest and had a sharp tone.

TIS

Oh, yes, I remember standing for the priest as well, and saying all together in a sing-song voice, "Good morning, Father!". I went to Catholic school 1st through 8th grade. Our nuns were VERY strict, and I do remember beatings with a ruler, although I never got one. It was mostly the "hold out your hand" variety, and you'd get a good rap across the knuckles, God forbid if you pulled your hand away.

The one thing I remember was first grade, and all the nuns were in to-the-floor habits. I guess that summer was Vatican II, and when we went back to school for second grade, they were all wearing the "airline stewardess" variety of habits. After another year or so, they were in street clothes, all except for Sister Mary Phillip. She was about four feet tall, 112 years old, wore the old-fashioned habits until her death, and we were all terrified of her.

However, when I made the transition to public school (and with 50+ kids to a class, btw), I was light years ahead in math in reading. Science not so much, though.

Speaking of Habits, I was a little before you SB so none of the nuns were modernized with shorter habits (right from Italy they were literally off the boat).

Anyway, we had only one non-Italian nun, and she was right from Scotland (Sister Elizabeth). A very fun, jolly type person who would think nothing of shooting hoops with the kids outside. One very windy day her veil (head cover, geez, I don't even rememaber the term) flew off and everyone was like "OMG"!! Ha ha ha. She picked it up, put it on and continued the game.

TIS

My mom was raised in a day-care center run by nuns. They weren't really supposed to take her because she was so little, but it was the Depression, and my grandmother needed to work, so they used to hide her in the convent. She saw them without their veils (I think they're called wimples??) and knew that they had very short hair. When all the other kids used to speculate that they shaved their heads, she used to get very upset, because the other kids never believed her when she said that the nuns weren't bald.

SB,

I assume you went to mass everyday while in Catholic school? And, I assume it was in Latin? We would answer the Priest in Latin and even sing the responses in Latin.

The priest I mentioned (Father Davanzo), once went to Lourdes France where the Virgin Mary is said to have appeared to Bernardette. He brought back for each of us (it was a small school with less than 100 kids) a medal of Our Lady Of Lourdes which were placed on the exact spot that Mary stood and blessed. I still have that medal.

My younger daughter who is going thru rough times right now saw it and asked about it. I gave to her to wear, told her the story and she was so interested that I purchased the old old movie which told it better.

Anyway, if you (or anyone else)remembers there was a song about Bernadette that we'd sing in church . I can't remember the title nor can I find it. All I know is it does have the lyrics "Ave Ave, Ave Maria" in it, but it isn't "The" Ave Maria. I think I heard that line only in the old movie.

Just wondering. We learned so many religious songs back than. Every now and then, one will ring a bell and I'll think, "Hey, I know that."

Sorry for boring others. I'm religiously nostalgic today I guess.

TIS

I remember Latin vaguely and the "old-timers" expressing outrage at the switch. We didn't go to church every day, but did go often. I also remember saying the Rosary during May.

Do you remember having your throat blessed on St. Blaise's feast day?? The priest would had these two candles tied together to make an X, and he would lay them on your throat. It had something to do with St. Blaise saving a child from choking to death.

I did K-12 in catholic chool K-8 was taught by Dominican nuns, many of whom were off the boat from Ireland. They claimed to have eyes in the back of their head. They'd walk around with a large pointer or a 36 inch ruler and wack your hands if you screwed up on a multiplication question, a catechism answer and just about anything else.

If you got caught talking they would tape your mouth. And if
you committed an offense serious enough to be ent to the principl's office you would get paddled on the butt 10-15 times depending on the offense. We were terrified of them.

9-12 I had Marianist priests and brothers. Also very big on corporal punishment, only they used fists.

By the time we were seniors we pretty much knew how to get away with all kinds of things. One of my favorites was this:
Every Tuesday morning they had confesions set up starting about an hour before school started. They were "optional."
About ten of us decided to tell the priest the same story, which was basically that we had sex with a girl. What we did was say it happened the previous Saturday ...the first guy in said he did it at 8:00 in the back seat of a car, the second guy said 8:30 on the hood of the car, third guy said 9:00 on a blanket under stadium seats....and so forth. Each description
contained more graphic acts, and included doing things in every oraface of her body, multiple times, by the time the last guy confessed. Later in the day we had this priest for religion class, and he knew exactly who had done this. He started to rant about our sinful abuse of confession, that he knew who did it and that we would pay for it, etc. I raised my hand and asked "Father I thought you were bound to keep confessions a complete secret. Why are you telling us this?"
By then everyone knew of the stunt and the clas went nuts laughing. I got five demerits for "causing a disruption." Ten demerits would get you suspended so it was harsh. He then became emotional and told us to put our head down and pray silently. Of course doing that makes one laugh even harder.
Within two days he was replaced by another priest it was rumored the first priest had some kind of nervous breakdown.
This priest told us he knew "all about" our class (we were 30 guys who'd been together for four years) what smart asses we were, and how he'd been in the navy, how tough he was and how he wasn't going to take any crap from us. The following day we marched single file into the classroom humming "Anchors Aweigh." Once we got to our assigned seats the president of the class saluted and said "Permission to come aboard SIR!"
This guy was pissed, and railed at us for an hour. The following day one of us had to go to the dentist and had a note excusing him from school. When he returned it was about 20 minutes into th class, and his face was all puffy from the dental work and it looked like he was sneering. This priest went ballistic and told the kid to "Get that smirk off your face" and the more he tried the worse he looked. The priest then decked the kid right in the mouts. Blood was everywhere.
Somebody knew about the dentist appt. and got up and took the note from the semi consciou kids hand and announced he had a pass to go to the dentist, and was not smirking, but that his expression was due to the numbness in his mouth and the dental work.
We then all signed a petition againt him for hitting an innocent kid for no good cause. He was replaced a week later.

Wow, that's really something DT!! Wow!! You guys had a lot of guts that's for sure. And, although not surprised, I'm glad to see the Priest was booted out.

Boy, I would think you'll always remember that incident as vividly now as then. Thanks for sharing.

TIS

How's this for a Bronx/Catholic education?

No wonder I'm such a mess .

K-8 at Our Lady of Mount Carmel School: Bronx, NY (Carmelite Nuns)

9-12 at Mount Saint Michael Academy: Bronx, NY (Marist Brothers)

B.A. at Fordham University: Bronx, NY (Jesuit Priests and Brothers)

I was taught by nuns in grade school and christian brothers in high school. It was dang tough, but I remember it with fondness and I appreciate the learning and discipline. I remember Sister Teresa Mary in 6th grade whom I fell in love with. I also remember Brother Leonard in high school wwho was a former Marine Drill Instructor and believe me he was every bit of it at school. He actually wore a black cape. You talk about Darth Vader! He was well over 6 ft. and weight prbaby 275. He was a legend.

I was a server too (I actually got thrown off the servers) and I remember my Latin (I love to say the Our Father in Latin). Of course, it was required in high school. I was fearful of my parish priest's reaction in high school because they were the ones who distributed report cards.

I always respected the nuns/priests (we simply were taught to) and always tried to obey, but I can't say I felt especially close to any of them. Although, reflecting back, they were always very nice to me. I guess I was just scared of them or something.


Here's a picture from my church in Michigan which last year had it's Cenntinial celebration. They combined a "then and now" pic. The left is the first church, AND where I attended Catholic School and it is still a school. My parents were married at that church, and I was baptized at that church.

The right is the church now (which has been standing for as long as I remember). I was married in that church as were my sister and brother. It's actually very beautiful inside too.

TIS

I got in a boatload of trouble as an Altar Boy. My friend and Mass partner, Gino, would often ring the bells at the wrong time, then blame me. Worse than a rat; a lying rat!

Of course today, I'm Godfather to his oldest son, who just graduated from the University of Miami. Boy, time flies.

I just remember that the bells always made me think of the Good Humor man, which made me crave ice cream (especially since we were always hungry at Church!), which I was convinced was some sort of sin. I was supposed to be thinking about God, and instead I couldn't stop thinking about a Candy Center Crunch!

Yea, remember the bells and you'd gently beat your heart each time???

Funny story that just happened on Palm Sunday at my church. The Priest had us all go outside in a pavillion/courtyard type area to bless and distribute the palms to the people. He explained everything he was doing and when he used the incense, he told the congregation, "now you're grandparents may tell you about times they used this to cover up smoking marijuana." I cracked up and my daughter just sort of stared at me. LOL

TIS

Btw, why is it that it seems the Catholic boys are the ones that got in trouble? You devils you!!

Monsignor once told my mom that Palm Sunday had the largest turnout, even bigger than Christmas or Easter, because "people felt like they were getting something for nothing."

Never thought of it that way! Wow! What a bunch of leeches hu?


TIS

Yes!

Even though Vatican II took place in the mid '60s, I don't think it reached the Bronx until the '80s . Meaning that you couldn't eat from midnight Saturday until after Communion on Sunday.

That was a killer, because I'd have to walk right through the heart of Little Italy in the Bronx to get to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church (same Parish as Dion DiMucci and Chazz Palminteri). The smells. My God, the smells. Bread, pasta, meatballs frying . . .

I gotta admit, a bunch of times, I didn't make it .

My aunt lived in the apartment building on the corner of Lorillard and 187th. Dion and his pals, who went to school with my cousin, used to sing on the corner. My aunt was very proud of the fact that she often dumped pots of water on their heads on Sunday nights. She used to say that they wanted to sing under her window all night like a bunch of bums, but she had to get up for work in the morning!

Dion lives is Boca Raton now, Babe. Not too far from me. A few years ago, when my Dad was down there with us, we ran into him at Renzo's, an Italian Restaurant down there. He actually remembered my Dad quite well. My Dad's about ten years older than he is, so he showed him that "older guy from the neighborhood" respect.

He's a helluva nice guy. He's like 70 now, but still talks like Sammy Davis Jr. Like, "it was great seeing you cats . . ." My Pop just rolls his eyes .

He must be about 70, because my cousin turns either 70 or 71 this year.