The school was located on Princeton Avenue across from the Elementary school. There is a Citgo gas station I believe opposite the driveway to the orphanage grounds. Coming from Princeton, the orphanage grounds were about 3/4 of a mile before you get to West Broad St. in Hopewell.
Everyone went to school right in the orphanage itself. There were a suite of rooms in the basement wing on the boy's side, a corridor about 50 feet long, and classroooms were situated on either side of the corridor. Grades 1-4 and 7-8 were taught down there and grades 5-6 were taught in two rooms on the second floor.
I have heard, from a very reliable source, of one alumni who supposedly went on to have a successful career in the U.S. House of Representatives. I had a few friends who, as I did, received four year college scholarships. Unfortunately, I have also heard that many alumni wound up in shootouts with police. So winding up with a good paying job in a reputable company was a mark of success nonetheless, considering what could have and did happen to some of us.
The kids were supported by the town when permitted. We got to march in the Memorial Day parade, and we had our own Boy Scout troop but unfortunately, that was one of the few examples of interchange between the town and the orphans. Some of us went "into town" and came back with 1961 style rock n roll records, but those trips were exceedingly rare.
I had always wished we could have gone to the free Hopewell library and checked out books but the exchange between the boys and girls of the orphanage and public places in Hopewell was fairly well restricted.
There were no problems with the town kids that I knew of. To the contrary, the town kids (I've asked my sister about this and she agrees) were a source of wonder and enlightment for us. They didn't have the same wounded reticence that we had. They were care free and ebullient, and I remember learning a great deal from them. One kid I knew was named David Scibetta. He was a track star, and I remember him showing us his track spikes. All the spikes were on the front part of the shoe, under the ball of the foot. There were no spikes at all under the heel. David explained that your heel never touches the ground at all when you run sprints. For about two weeks after this revelation, everyone ran around trying not to let their heels touch the ground.
There were other kids from town who coached us in basketball. They were high school students, older than us, and they helped get us ready for CYO games that we would play in Trenton. I remember one year our first game was against Blessed Sacrament, and we were bemoaning the fact that Blessed Sacrament was the league champion the year before, and we were going to get killed. The Hopewell kids from town worked on our attitude, they told us we could win if we played hard. We did, we beat the CYO league champion on opening day, Trenton was shocked.
That's the kind of effect the town kids from Hopewell had on us. They came up to see us a lot, but unfortunately, we were kept isolated and didn't get into town nearly as much.
Kids on the sports teams felt like a community. If you were on a sports team, you got to travel away from the orphanage. In the winter, we were constantly going into Trenton to play CYO basketball. In summer, we were in the Cook AA baseball league, and we travelled to different fields on a big blue bus.
We were a multicultural team even before there was a word, multicultural. Our first baseman was a black kid from Trenton, Bernard Lofton. Our second baseman was an Italian kid who couldn't speak a word of English, Anthony Carney. Our shortstop was from Puerto Rico. He died in Vietnam and his name is on the black granite wall in Washington D.C., Audilez Hernandez. I was the catcher, half Jewish, half Catholic. Our left fielder was a burn victim. The fingers on his right hand were welded together, but when he threw a baseball, you couldn't hit it.
We would get invited to some games with picnics afterward. The attitude being -- "beat the orphan kids, then show them a good time afterwards with free eats." We clobbered teams like that. One of them sent us back to St. Michael's without letting us eat.
To some extent, sports united the place. We had great fan support on game days, and it influenced our treatment later on, as boys and girls from the same family were allowed to eat at the same table. These improvements came at about 1960-61.
Prior to that, when I was younger, I remember terror. I remember getting yanked out of bed at God knows what hour and made to stand up against a wall in a dark corridor in a long line of boys because someone had stolen something. I remember getting beaten up a lot, until I was older and could fight back. I remember barely knowing my brother who was also there.
editors note: This is a note from someone that lived at St. Michael's, with his brother and sister, as a child. This gives a very good sense of life at St. Michael's.
page created Jan 11, 2000