The Bell Ringers of the Gesu celebrate their Golden Jubilee

MANILA, Philippines - A little more than 50 years ago or, to be precise, in the afternoon of March 27, 1960, 195 young men resplendent in their new barong tagalogs gathered at the Ateneo de Manila High School Covered Courts with their teachers, parents and other guests and anxiously waited for their names to be called to receive their high school diplomas from the principal, Rev. Herbert T. Kane, S.J. It was the culmination of four years of grinding work and breaking out of adolescence. Most of us probably did not know it then but many of us had just spent the happiest years of our lives, when we hardly had any care in the world. Now, 50 years later, as many of us as are still alive and can be traced will gather once more on Dec. 4, 2010 at the same Covered Courts to reminisce, catch up with one another and try to relive what in retrospect were all-too-short high school years. About 15 percent of that graduating class have gone ahead and weremember them in our prayers.

Members of HS 60, together with their batchmates in GS 56 and Col 64, donated the carillon at the Church of the Gesu in 2004 in the ruby celebration of their college graduation, and now on their golden jubilee have added more bells to fill up missing notes. Hence, the monicker The Bell Ringers of the Gesu. 

After that memorable afternoon of March 27, the graduates fanned out to various destinations, went through college (the majority went to Ateneo College of Arts and Sciences) married, begot children, became grandfathers and made their mark in the expected fields of law, medicine, business, the arts, etc. A number of course immigrated. Some did public service. Not surprisingly, a good number have simply vanished and have not been heard of since. Many did their alma mater proud.

But that is getting ahead of the story. HS 60 were the freshmen in June 1956 when the Ateneo High School first moved into the area it still occupies today. In 1956, as the school year began, those classrooms still smelled of fresh paint. 

In 1956, the Philippines was a relatively young republic and the times were filled with hope. We were second only to Japan in economic development and people looked forward to the promised utopia of a developed country. The country would of course still be trying 50 years later. 

In any event, the Filipino people were still smarting from 400 years of colonialism and vestiges remained. We all recited the Gettysburg address. We were forced to follow the so-called English Rule: Students were not allowed to speak any language except English on campus. Unimaginable now but true. Violators were punished with the infamous “post,” an hour of push ups, pumps and other physical activities guaranteed to make your muscles sore the next day. The Prefect of Discipline administered the “post” and he was the most dreaded man on campus. Like Filipinos in general, we watched American movies, sang American hit songs and blindly followed the US for the latest fashion in clothes and fads. In 1956, we gyrated like Elvis Presley and sneered like James Dean with the collar mandatorily up. HS 60 swooned with the Platters, calypsoed with Harry Belafonte and boogied to the tunes of the Everly Brothers and Jimmie Rogers. It was the age of rock and roll. 

In sports, we’d troop to the Rizal Memorial Coliseum to watch NCAA basketball games and it was during our high school years that the Ateneo were crowned champions because of Ed Ocampo and company.

The high school then was still full of Jesuits, especially American Jesuits, and many teachers were Jesuit priests and scholastics. We spent class nights in the school campus, playing basketball all night and telling ghost stories at midnight. We elected class officers whose duty was to plan the class party and the class excursion. Our class parties sat us on one side and the girls on the other side; we then rushed to the girls once the music started. We all remember the salt makers of Las Piñas, the sight of whom with the salt glistering in the sun would tell us that we were already some ways from Manila on our excursion.

Smoking was banned on campus but there were places to steal a puff – the mango trees beyond the football field and a dark closet beside the stage in the Covered Courts.

We wore no uniforms but short pants, tight-fitting jeans and collarless shirts were prohibited. We were being taught how to dress up as young gentlemen.

But what set us apart from other high school students, we thought, was Latin, and it was not simple Latin but Cicero and Virgil. We recited “Quo usque tandem abutere patientia nostra, Catalina” and “Armavirumque cano.” We were also drilled in English Literature, Shakespeare, Milton, etc. and were required to read one book a month. 

A high school teacher told us before we graduated that the faculty would characterize each graduating class in a word. Hence, one class was called the most mature, another was most brilliant. HS 60 they called the most innocent – but that innocence we would soon lose.

But maybe, just maybe, we can catch glimpses of that innocence this December, when we gather to remember and celebrate the Bell Ringers of the Gesu.

Activities for the golden jubilee include class get-togethers (dinners and lunch), a golf tournament and the grand homecoming on Dec. 4 at the High School Covered Courts. 

For details on the reunion, please contact the author at 0928-5035355.