CCFS Office Memories

CCFS Office Memories

My first memory of the storied CCFS office, room 112, came before I even knew what Forensics was. Early in the school year I was on my way to the auditorium and I looked into what was labelled the Nurse’s office. What I saw was a bank of filing cabinets partially obscuring the view into the room and on the far wall, shelves of trophies of crammed together all the way to the ceiling. I was impressed.

Soon afterward I joined Forensics and I came to understand what took place in the office. I learned that the myriad trophies were all “lesser” team trophies that did not warrant elevation to the glassed trophy cases in the hallways. We had a LOT of trophies. Behind the filing cabinets was a large, rectangular, badly abused conference table surrounded by a mismatched set of chairs.

I enjoined the cozy confines of the office for the remainder of my Central career and even after. The office represented the soul of CCFS. It was where we hung out and told stories, made bad puns and worse jokes and where we verbally tortured each other. As alumni, when we came back to Central to coach or visit, the office represented home.

Some coaching took place in the room. I can picture Brother René in a tan corduroy jacket leaning back in the chair at the end of the table and offering his pronouncements on my latest efforts. Most coaching took place in classrooms but the office had other valuable purposes.

The office was where the members of the CCFS got to really know each other on a daily basis. It is where we celebrated victories and commiserated over defeats. Those of us who spent time in the office all have our own memories of what went on there. Fifty years later I still remember Pat Tierney sharing the opening of an original oratory he was working on.

Our NFL certificates were hung on the wall signifying our membership in a special activity. The wooden plaque near the nurse’s office door listed the hallowed Forensics heroes of earlier times. I never met Bill Stewart but I knew who he was. I passed his name almost every day. We all aspired to have our names join his on the plaque.

The filing cabinets that were our bulwark against the non-CCFS intruders held scrapbooks and copies and tapes of speeches and cuttings. Some were our work, some were the work of exemplary competitors. According to Carmen DiDiano the filing cabinets also provided a hiding place for illicit copies of Playboy.

The office was repurposed for other, lesser uses years ago. I have no doubt that the nurses who shared the entryway were delighted when the CCFS got moved out. For those of us who remember the glory days of the office, it is missed.

Among his other goals, Coach DePasquale would like to recreate to some degree the clubhouse feel of Room 112 that many of us enjoyed. If you have any CCFS office memories you would like to share, please send them to: john.fredette@nokia.com.

John Fredette ‘73