The recent Alumnews article discussing the construction of a new Campus Center, Residence Hall, and New Athletic Facilities got me thinking about my days at Georgetown Prep as a boarder. A torrent of memories came flooding in. The Class of '73 was the second class to move into the then brand-new Gunlocke Hall, and we boarders felt privileged. I was asked me to reflect on those times and share a few stories, and hopefully, this note will remind other classmates and Prep alumni of the good times they had as a boarder.

I am married and have been for 38 years to the same woman, and we have two wonderful sons. I have always told them that what I am today, was molded at Prep. I am from the Philippines and have been back home since 1986 via London.

I entered Prep as a freshman in 1969. At that time, the freshmen were housed on the top floor of Boland Hall. My first roommate was Clarence Hall, but as we became familiar with people, it was inevitable that roomies would shift, and Mike McSherry and I requested to room together. We roomed together until the end of Junior year. That was my introduction to the Frederick boys. Jim Smith was the other one.

There was a lot of fun in the dorm and I always looked forward to returning after the long breaks. There was also the mischief that we all got into which up to now I would hesitate to write about. I am sure we all have stories to recount when we are face to face.

Apart from my initial fear of Fr. Carboy, I always thank goodness that there was Fr. Carboy who helped me navigate the turbulent teenage years. He was always prepared to lend an ear and listen. There were many nights I would knock on his door during my junior year, and I could talk to him with more openness than I could with my own father.

Apart from the quality education, one of the greatest gifts I learned from Prep was how goodness and kindness can shape a young man. As a boarder I felt that goodness and kindness from the families who hosted a young man from far away for weekends: the Higginses, McSherrys, Smiths, Shanks, Murrays, and many others. Dick Higgins, a dayhop, invited me for a weekend at his house. His parents were so welcoming and kind, and this happened within weeks of the start of the Fall term. The Prep community of teachers, administrators, and parents forged a strong connection which has lasted almost a lifetime.

I am still in email contact regularly with Dan Shank's mom who I love dearly. She has asked me to call her by her first name, Maxine, but I told her that she will be forever Mrs. Shank to me. We have settled on Mrs. S.

I hope you all still remember Brother Larouere from the Prep Store and the golf shop, which I frequented. No doubt he could be gruff, but he had a sweet side. Anytime I was on the US east coast after graduation, and within driving distance to Prep, I would visit. One-time Marice, my wife, and I were staying with a friend of hers in the then new townhouse development across from Grosvenor. This was after our 25th reunion. I asked our host to drive us to Prep late one afternoon so I could go to the pro shop. Our host went in through the door first, and Brother Larouere, who was at the register and had his back to the door, remarked gruffly: "I close in two minutes". Our host was terrified and turned to me and whispered: "We better go". He still had his back to us when I said: "Don't you remember me, Brother?" With just a momentary glance, and without missing a beat he blurted: "You're that del Rosario kid who sold the golf clubs I sold you for $300 when you went home one summer." He had sold me a deeply discounted golf set, which he said was very specially priced. They were intended for me to play. It was a betrayal. I had sold the clubs one summer when I went home and made money. He then turned, smiled, and asked me how I was. After that meeting, I sent Brother Larouere a Christmas card yearly. He would write to me, told me about his life, and how as a young man from a poor family, his parents did not have the means for him to pursue his education to be a Jesuit priest. I learned of his passing after one Christmas when I received a letter from the Jesuit residence in Pennsylvania. He did not see my last Christmas card.

When I was turning 65 in 2019, I wanted to do something special for myself. So, I suggested to the Frederick boys that we meet "halfway" in AZ to catch some Cactus league games. We had so much fun, and we felt so familiar with each other. It was like we never left the dorm. I would love to do it again.

How many educational institutions can boast of an environment that can foster those kinds of lasting bonds between students, teachers, administrators, and parents. Not many I would say.

Valeriano del Rosario '73