A Long Day’s Journey to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ - Kurt Schlichting
Lenox Avenue
In the west end of Bridgeport is Lenox Avenue where I was born. My great-uncle Jimmy Donovan, a carpenter-builder, built 77 Lenox, a two-family, modest but gracious Dutch colonial home. He lived on the 2nd floor and my grandmother Dorothy O’Connell and my grandfather Harold lived on the first floor. My grandmother’s father Kevin Tobin had emigrated to Bridgeport from the Wicklow mountains in Ireland in the 1880s, joining thousands of Irish immigrants who came to Bridgeport to work in the factories to begin their American dream.
My grandmother, born on the East Side of Bridgeport in St. Charles parish, proudly displayed her framed 8th grade graduation certificate from St. Charles School over the breakfast table. Ambitious, the O’Connells were proud when they moved from the East Side to Lenox Avenue and St. Peter’s parish that, in their world, represented upward mobility. My grandmother once said to me, “I crossed the river and never went back” referring to the Pequannock– an imagined boundary separating the Irish American communities in Bridgeport.
Ralph Mooney, a member of the 1st graduating class from ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ, the Class of 1951, lived on Lenox Avenue. I can image my grandmother pushing me in a carriage and passing the Mooney house. Over my years as a faculty member at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ I taught a number of students who lived on Lenox Avenue, their parents not from Ireland but from Puerto Rico, Mexico, and the Caribbean. ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s origin is tied to the history of immigration and the hard work that followed in Bridgeport’s factories. This history continues generations after Ralph Mooney’s parents sent him to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ.
Every Sunday our extended family went to mass at St. Peter’s. To support the new Prep and then start the University, the Jesuits at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ would say mass and hear confessions in the local parishes. These parish honorariums supported their community. To raise money for Xavier Hall the Jesuits sold paper “bricks.” One Sunday my grandparents bought a “brick.” On the back of the paper brick is the brick’s number 11,806 and the cost: “Contribution – One Dollar”. Xavier and other early construction on campus was funded by thousands of “bricks” donated by parishioners from Bridgeport contributing their hard earned dollars to create the opportunity for a Jesuit education.
High Ridge Road
My father, George Schlichting, served in WWII as did the fathers of many in my Class of ’70. When the war ended he returned home and took advantage of a remarkable federal program to support the returning veterans – the G.I. Bill. He enrolled in the school of engineering at the University of Connecticut, his tuition and dormitory fees paid by the Veterans Administration- the V.A. An estimated 50% of ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s first Class ’51 were veterans and the G.I. Bill provided them with a golden opportunity. When my father graduated he was the first in his extended family to compete a college degree. Almost all of the ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s first classes were also the first in their families to graduate from college, a dream of their parents and grandparents, an American Dream.
My father began his engineering career at the Singer Sewing Machine company, which had a large factory on the East Side of Bridgeport. At that time Singer was the largest sewing machine manufacturer in the world. In 1953 we moved to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ. My father and mother bought a half-acre on an old farm on High Ridge Road in ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ and had my uncle Jimmy build them their dream house in the suburbs.
With plenty of other children my age on High Ridge and adjoining streets we spent endless hours outside in the woods and on the ballfields at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ Woods School up the street. For two or three summers I went to a day camp on the university campus. I can remember well those warm days on a campus with far fewer buildings than today. One vivid memory involves the N.Y. Giants’ summer camp at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ. We watched their practice and walked the players back to the gym. I carried the helmet of Roosevelt Greer, one of the Giant’s all-time legendary lineman. He must have been 6’ 5” and almost 300 lbs. and I was all of 4’ and 100 lbs. He signed his player picture that I kept on my bedroom wall for years.
Manila, Philippines – Back to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ & ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ University
My father had great career success at Singer. Transferred to Karlsruhe, Germany, for one year in 1960 he returned to announce that we would be moving to Manila in the Philippines. He would oversee a sewing machine assembly line in a new factory. Off we went in 1961 half way around the world to a country far, far different from ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ. Tragedy struck in November of 1962 when my father died; we returned to Bridgeport. My mother thankfully had a profession; she was a dental hygienist. She purchased a modest two-bedroom home in ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ just off North Benson Road less than a mile from the ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ campus.
I attended Notre Dame H.S. in Bridgeport along with a number of friends who also went to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ including my best friend, Peter McCann. In the spring of 1966 my acceptance arrived in the mail and included an academic scholarship - $ 600! Today $ 600 at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ would probably not cover the cost of a semester’s textbooks. ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s tuition in 1966 was $ 1,200! Living at home spared my mother the cost of a dormitory and food plan. When classes started in September my classmates and I approached the beginning of our college education with trepidation. A striking difference between ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ in 1966 and today is the number of Jesuit faculty. In my first year at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ I had Fr. Burns for theology, Fr. Lynch for English, Fr. Murphy for history, and Leo Fay, a Jesuit in training, for sociology. The Jesuits devoted their lives to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ and we owe them a debt of gratitude. What remains in my memory is how many of the faculty, both Jesuit and laypersons were dedicated teachers. Leo Fay and Art Anderson encouraged me to think about going to graduate school
In addition to the classroom I found another calling on the rugby field. I met Quin Murphy, Steve Ryan, Bruce Klastow, Al Salamone, Tom Krenn and others and we found our way down the hill to the Corbett Field rugby pitch where the old Dolan School of Business now stands. We played hard on the field and won many a match. Rugby has a tradition of a beer party after the game with the visiting team and, best of all, the parties were down at the “Beach”. Another lure - young women from New Rochelle and Marymount joined the parties.
Turmoil & Transition
This story sounds like an idyllic college remembrance of “glory days,” but as the 60s continued the wheels came off. The war in Vietnam escalated and drugs arrived on campus as they did on every campus in the country. Tensions at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ flared over the war, race, and inequality. Senior year began with great tension given the draft lottery in September of 1969, Kent State followed in the spring of 1970, closing down of the University - ending our senior year in May. Graduation included protests, an alternative graduation, disappointed parents and relatives, and a smoldering sense of unease. We left campus and entered the real world, with the draft and war continuing and the economy in a free fall with few jobs available.
My draft number was 164 and the draft board in Bridgeport did not reach that high. In the fall of 1970 I began graduate school with a fellowship to attend the NYU graduate sociology program. I packed up and moved to the East Village on E 12th St between 2nd and 3rd, sharing a loft with Bob Maher. Washington Square served as the epicenter of the counterculture world in New York and the NYU classroom buildings surrounded the Square. Pursuing a concentration in urban studies, I lived in an urban setting where crime, drugs and New York’s decline seemed to be inevitable.
Back to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ
I kept in touch with Art Anderson and Leo Fay as I worked to complete my Ph.D. Out of the blue Art called in the summer of 1974 and said that unexpectedly there would be a one year visiting faculty opening. I had been teaching nights as an adjunct professor (part-time) at Queens College in Flushing NY. Full-time academic positions were few. Life as an adjunct seemed to be ahead of me. I went to campus for an interview with Fr. Coughlin, Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences, which went well.
As I left Fr. Coughlin’s office he had a last question. “Weren’t you on the Rugby team when ten or twelve players were suspended for two weeks for having a keg of beer on the sideline?” I just smiled and figured that was the end; I would be back at Queens teaching evenings. Days later a letter followed from Fr. Coughlin with a one sentence paragraph in bold:
THIS IS A ONE YEAR CONTRACT AND WILL NOT BE RENEWED
I signed the contract.
A Blessed Life
In the fall of 1975 I traveled to the University of North Carolina in Ashville (not UNC in Chapel Hill!) to interview for a tenure track, faculty position. The interviews went very well. The Chair called me about a week later to tell me the search committee had recommended me to the Provost. I politely thanked him and declined the offer. Too far away, too different a part of the country and most important of all I was dating my future wife. Two more one year contracts at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ followed all with the one terrifying paragraph in the middle. When a full-time, tenure track position came open in the Sociology department I was hired.
At times my first years were awkward because many of my new professional colleagues were faculty that I studied with as an undergraduate. In the Sociology Department, however, it was great to work with Art Anderson, Harry Fishman and Leo Fay. Leo O’Connor, Hugh Humphrey, Jane Sutherland, Fr. Vinnie Burns, Fr. Joe McDonald and John McCarthy welcomed me back and, as long as we were together, I could always count on their friendship and support.
In the mid-70s, ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ encountered strained finances under Fr. Thomas Fitzgerald, President from 1972 until 1979. A no nonsense President, his first faculty address focused on the University’s budget deficit. He reminded us that the University’s endowment at that time totaled less than $ 2 million dollars. If needed, the endowment would finance expenses for about two months. Any thought of a substantial salary increase was out of the question! At the time of Fitzgerald’s budget address, it would have been impossible to imagine the changes that lay ahead. ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ has prospered and it has been rewarding to be part of the dramatic growth of the University, however, it was not without challenges.
I have especially enjoyed the students I taught and mentored. Almost without exception I looked forward to coming to work each day. With great colleagues in the Sociology Department and across the University we could work-out any problems that arose, usually without rancor. Even in the most difficult times most of us at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ, faculty, staff, and administration remained committed to the mission of the University – and we succeeded.
A high-point of time at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ came in the spring of 1984 when President Fr. Kelley asked me to come to his office. The current Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences had resigned. A search committee had been formed but the search would take an academic year. He looked at me and said: “I would like you to be the Acting Dean.” I went home that night, took counsel with my wife Mary and a few colleagues. The next day I went back to the President’s office and accepted the position.
My term as Acting Dean proved to be one of highlights and deep challenges. Anyone who has served in a senior position at a university or business knows some days will be really tough. Faculty can be forceful; I know I have been at times. I reported to Fr. Christopher Mooney, the Academic Vice President, a noted constitution scholar, past Associate Dean of the University of Pennsylvania Law School, and one of the finest persons I have ever known. I could always count 5 on Chris for sage advice and will always remember his kind smile. To cap off my year as Acting Dean, in March of1985, my wife Mary and I celebrated the birth of our twin daughters.
Over the next decades ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s success continued and my academic career flourished. In 2007, President Fr. Jeffery Von Ax and my colleague Orin Grossman, then Academic Vice President appointed me to be the first E. Gerald Corrigan ’63 Chair in Humanities & Social Sciences. Gerry Corrigan ’63, one of ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ’s outstanding graduates, has been incredibly generous to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ. After ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ he headed to Fordham for a Ph.D. in Economics and had a meteoric career at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, culminating as president, one of the most prestigious positions in the financial world. After leaving the Fed he became a Senior Partner at Goldman Sachs.
Dr. Corrigan attributed his great success to the faculty at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ who encouraged him to use his talents, go to graduate school, and never doubt himself. When he established the Corrigan Chair, Gerry wanted the Chair to set up a program to support ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ students, who like him, came to ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ from a modest background, excelled academically, and often were the first in their family to go to college. He wanted each of them to have a two-year faculty mentor to work with and encourage them to flourish. The Corrigan Scholar faculty mentors serve without compensation. I am proud to say that for eleven years I never asked a colleague to mentor a Corrigan Scholar who declined.
Each spring I would take the Corrigan Scholars to meet with Gerry at Goldman Sachs. When asked by the students what was the key to his achievements he always talked about his faculty mentors at ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ. Once a student asked about competing with colleagues at the Fed who had graduated from Wharton, Yale & Harvard. With a wry smile. he answered: “They underestimated me.” Perhaps we have all had something to prove – a key to the remarkable success of ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ grads in all walks of life.
When leaving ÐÓ°ÉÔ°æ in the spring of 2018, I departed with a great sense of accomplishment, not just for myself but for the collective accomplishments of the University’s students, alumni, friends, faculty and staff. Truly a blessed life.