Graham Rogers 3

Fr. Joe Calnan - the X, the other terrorist. The sight and sound of him and John Berry thrashing the paint off each other’s walls in the squash court was truly terrifying. In reality, he was a very likeable chap, a sharp wit, an alert eye and a quick sense of humour. A touch of genius about him. But one dare not break the rules in his presence.
Fr. Bernard Shaw - the gruff, grumpy, grouchy but thoroughly loveable classics teacher who breezed me through Latin A level. Champion of the values of ancient Rome and classical Greece.
Fr. Martin Cummins - the Irish hard-line Vatican spokesman. His sermons on “Purity” scared the life out of every pubescent lad in the school. Gave all us boys twitching nightmares.
Fr. J. Heyes - nicknamed Gabby - a gentle, caring soul who took more ribbing and leg-pulling from us lads than he ever deserved.
Fr. Peter Wilkie - armed with ready smile, a video camera, a disarming innocence, a sporting talent and a Welsh accent, well, how could you not like him?
Fr. P. Kearney - who literally gave up trying to teach me mathematics.