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Autobiography of Father Anthony Kosturos
High School Years - Continued Another activity in which I participated in High School besides Oratory was basketball. I played "center" for the Junior Varsity team. What position was I assigned? Center. Now, this might not sound believable le to younger people today, but it should be noted that, at the time, I was 5 feet 8 inches tall, and I was the "center." Young people playing that position are much, much taller. I did my best to be a good passer to other members on the team. Vivid in my mind still is a game when a young Irish teammate who played guard was so "hot" at that game that he couldn't miss the basket and made thirty points, and kept shouting to me, "Feed me the ball, the basketball is like a wide rim to me tonight." That's what I did. Another memory is a game at Kezar Basketball Stadium, when I had the ball at "center," and kept looking for someone to receive the ball from me. Ten seconds left on the clock. No one open. I was well-guarded. I dribbled to the outside, turned, took a shot. The ball went in. Imagine how good I felt with that final shot which won the game. When you are that young, moments like this are thrilling and unforgettable. Also, at that time, the only youth group aside from choir was the Sons of Pericles. Now, there was a real rivalry in basketball between San Francisco and Oakland. It was a matter of provincial pride. The Sons from Oakland boasted about their athletic prowess. The Sons of San Francisco enjoyed bursting "their bubble." We had some good games together, and associated after the games. Rivalry Sacred Heart was the "blue collar" High School. St. Ignatius was the "professional family" High School. Every time our Teams played St. Ignatius on the basketball court, I spotted the Christian Brothers rooting for the "fighting Irish," as the Sacred Heart's teams were called, and the Jesuits in the stands on the other side of the spectator stands rooting for St. Ignatius. In the mind of ninety-nine and nine tenths percent of Sacred Heart's student body, St. Ignatius student body had an uppity-up swagger, a "Jesuit" sense of superiority. Try to picture these games. I would observe Christian Brothers, with a taught face of concentration, quietly egging on the team to defeat St. Ignatius and thereby declare by implication that Sacred Heart was not inferior to St. Ignatius just because the highly-educated Jesuits taught the opposing team. Sometimes, this rivalry became an exercise in pitting the "blue collar" kids against the "pampered darlings" of Jesuit teachers. I found this attitude puzzling. After all, both schools were Roman Catholic. Why not manifest a "Christian attitude." Obviously, I did not comprehend the pride each school took in its own background. So, I found this rivalry among them inappropriate, not at all Christian. I completed my High School years June, 1943. The time now came to prepare for my journey of the future. Holy Cross Seminary notified me that it was imperative that I be there before September. There was no doubt in my mind that my goal to be a priest was now set, even though mixed feelings began to emerge, not about the priesthood but about my leaving home to travel to Pomfret, Connecticut, three thousand miles away. I had never traveled by myself, and never been far away from home. This was for me an uncharted course, and all my will power had to be brought to the fore to arrive there by train. I had never been on a train up to that point. What was it like to cross the middle of the United States? What was it like to be on a train for three thousand miles without anyone in your family with you. I definitely did not apply to the Seminary to avoid the "Draft." At that time, the government understood the need for clergymen on the "home front," and wanted those seriously interested in the priesthood to remain behind to serve and also be prepared to serve the veterans when they returned from war. The stability of the domestic front was vital to maintaining cohesion in the struggle against totalitarianism. So, exemption was given seminarians preparing for priesthood. My dream to serve as a priest now began to take on the mantle of reality. My parents accepted the goal before me. Understandably, they were concerned about my being far from home, about traveling by myself on a train cross-country, and about my physical and emotional well-being. In those days, travel was limited, and most people rarely took long trips. Two-propeller airplanes were avoided by most, and train rides usually were short trips. Our immigrant parents worked so hard that train or plane excursions for them were beyond their means or desire. Today, most who emigrate from Greece to the United States think nothing of returning to their homeland yearly to visit their parents and relatives. Prior to World War II, our parents had accepted that they would not see their parents after having left Greece. They had growing families, and in most cases, they could not afford the expense of a trip to see their parents. I have found it difficult to think about their leaving Greece, and then discovering they would not return. Why difficult? Because I imagine their parents standing by the dock bidding them farewell, holding back their tears not to worry their children who waved to them as the departing ship left the harbor. How emotional. How poignant and indescribable. And what of those departing? Would they ever see their parents again? That must have crossed their mind and brought tears to their eyes. It certainly moves my spirit deeply when I dwell on these moments our parents and grandparents experienced. The time arrived to leave for Pomfret. My parents, brothers and others were there to see me off. "All aboard," I heard. I was on my way to a new life. Fr. Anthony Bio [Home] || <--Go to Chapter 4 || -->Go to Chapter 6 |