RIP, Mr. Quigley

At our Junior/Senior Banquet the year I graduated from college, Brent Northup, our Carroll College Forensics coach (Go, Talking Saints!) was one of the speakers. He said that after graduation, we would pick up the alumni newsletter each quarter to find out who died. It was one of those moments that was equal parts morbid and terribly funny.

I thought back on comment last week when I opened the email from my High School’s alumni office and learned that my HS Forensics coach, Andrew Quigley, had just died.

It was quite a surprise because I can’t imagine Mr. Quigley was more than 10 years older than I. And, yes, nearly 25 years later, I still think of him at Mr. Quigley, and I do most adults I met prior to turning 18. But that’s not the point I’m making here.

I remember Mr. Quigley as a smart, nice, and patient guy. He had to be to put up with our team.

He started teaching at our school in 1987 when I was a Junior. That first year, he brought back the Archbishop Molloy Speech and Debate team after a multi-year hiatus. I don’t know why he decided to do that; it never occurred to me to ask. But that decision had a huge impact on my life.

Have you ever stopped to think about how the decisions that other people make for their own reasons can completely change the direction of your life?

I joined the team, and meet some great people. I met new people from my school and from neighboring schools we competed with in the Brooklyn Queens Catholic Forensics League and beyond.

That team is the reason I spent 2 weeks in 1988 at the Baylor University Speech and Debate camp in Waco, TX. I’d spend my entire life in NY up to that point, and on that trip I met people from entirely different cultures – the south and Colorado.

I learned to dramatically read poetry and prose. I learned to support and oppose a positions from both sides and to depersonalize conflict. I learned to process and dissect arguments. And I learned to think quickly.

We had a lot of fun at tournaments, even when we had to pile way too many people into one car to get there. We were a team and we had the team jackets to prove it.


And Mr. Quigley’s decision to start that team led me to one of the most important and best decisions in my life. That was the decision to go to college in a place many of classmates thought was imaginary – Helena, MT. I learned about and attended the school because of the Forensics team.

The skills I use in my job are the ones I learned on that college Speech and Debate team. The stuff I learned in class has less impact day-to-day.

Most of the people I’m still in regular touch with from High School are from the Forensics world. Most of my friends from College are also from the speech team. And the speech team is the reason I know everyone else that met there. I can’t imagine what path my career and social life post-college might have taken had I not gone down this path. And since things have turned out pretty well, I’m not sure I’d want to imagine it.

I guess there are a couple of key take aways from all this:

• It's cliché, but teachers have a huge impact on the direction of our lives. I wonder if Mr. Quigley had any clue as to the path he set me on.
• Speech and Debate (Forensics) is a fantastic activity for kids to pursue. The logical, social, communications and team work skills they can learn are invaluable in the future.

RIP, Mr. Quigley. And thanks from bringing that team to life.

Late Night Visitor

When it comes to ghosts and other supernatural critters, I'm skeptically open-minded.  By that I mean, I acknowledge the possibility that the souls of the departed sometimes wander yet on this side of the veil, but it's unlikely I'll believe any particular ghost story.  Except my Grandmother's. And, more importantly, my own.

When I was a sophomore in college, 19 years ago, I took the job of yearbook editor.  I learned a lot on that job.  Namely that I wasn't cut out to be a yearbook editor.  But I took the job, had deadlines to meet, and no matter how much I didn't want to do it, I had made the commitment and was going to live up to it.

The yearbook office was in St. Albert's Hall, a small building that was maybe 100' away from my dorm.  St Al's was the campus student activity center.  Level 1 had lounge space with a full kitchen, and level two was long, narrow coffin like offices.  It wasn't a lot of room, but it was enough.

Decades earlier, St. Al's was home to the nuns who used to work at the college.  Stories passed from student to student had it that one of them had hung herself in her room.  Did it actually happen?  I don't know.

What I do know is that if it did, I nearly met her.

Late one night, at about 3:00 AM, I was working on a bunch of layouts.  I was alone in the building; the front door was locked.  I sat in the upstairs office along the long hallway with my door open and the radio playing.

Step

Step

Step

Step

I heard someone walking down the hallway from the far end,  got up from my chair, and peeked my head out.  I was sure it was the night security guard just checking on things.  But no one was there.

I was shrugged my shoulders, figured it was nothing, and returned to my work.  I turned off the radio in case that's what I heard.  I pulled out a fresh sheet of layout paper.

Step

Step

Step

Step

This time the steps were closer.  They came from the middle of the hall.  "Hello?" I called out, but no one responded.  I got up, looked up and down the hall, and saw no one.  I stepped out of the office, and took a quick look around downstairs.

No one.

By now, I was getting a little nervous.  I could sense the goose bumps just below the surface of my skin.  But I was still alone, and there was work to be done.  I sat down at the desk and tried to focus.

Step

STEP

Definitely closer now.  Definitely not some animal or rodent in the building. And when I looked out, there was still no one in the hall. 

I sat at the desk and began collecting my things.  I figured I should probably go to bed soon since I was having trouble focusing, what with the phantom walker in the hall.

STEP

STEP

STEP

STEP

STEP

STEP

The mystery walker slowly walked right past my open door! 

I had no doubt these were footsteps, but still they came from nothing.  Now officially scared and making the sign of the cross, I grabbed my stuff, and got the heck out of there. 

I barely remember shutting off the lights.  I don't remember walking to my dorm; I have just flashes of the lobby in my memory.  The next thing I knew I was back in my dorm room, my heart rate starting to fall back below 500 beats per minute. 

And I never encountered that dead nun again.  But for whatever reason, that one night, she decided to check up on me. It would be a few weeks before I spent another really late night in that building.

There may be a rational explanation.  And I know few people will believe this story.  They/you are right to be skeptical.  But if I close my eyes, I can still here those steps coming down the hall.

If you've made it this far, I hope I haven't caused you any nightmares.  If you want more scary stuff, here's Jonathan Coulton's Creepy doll.  Listen and enjoy. If you dare.

Alumni Christmas greeting

Normally, email updates from Carroll College are news or the occasional request for money. Actually, I'm fairly surprised the news outweighs the requests for money, and I appreciate that.

Today, they sent a virtual Christmas card. The cool thing about it was the link to the slide show

This is what the campus in Helena, MT, looks like. Some of the buildings have changed over the last 15 years, but the mountains are still the same.

Carroll Collge Talking Saints conduct their own presidential debate

From an article in the Helena Independent Record:

Based on audience response, the not-so-serious presidential debate hosted by the Carroll College Talking Saints forensics team Sunday was determined a tie.

In the end, the point of the debate wasn’t to declare winner, but rather to provide a venue for the team’s supporters to see the 18-time regional champions in action. The team travels for all its competitive meets.

“We have no home games,” forensics coach Brent Northrup said.

... More

It's great to see the Carrol College Talking Saints doing this. It's a great organization over there.

I joined the team in 1989, the same year current coach Brent Northup took the reins of the organization. The four years I spent traveling the Northwest competing for the team gave me the skills I still use in my work life today.

Even in the early days, Brent started working on exhibitions and outreach to both the larger Carroll College and the Helena, MT communities. It's great to see these types of activities continuing.

And it's also great to see them getting some press.