| Volume 35, Number 2 |
Richardton, ND 58652
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April 2007
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The Indispensable Fr. Francis
by Miguel Silva |
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| If the only homeland which exists for us, the graduates of Colegio San Carlos, is childhood, this homeland was governed by the just and firm hand of Father Francis Wehri. As we watched Fr. Francis, dressed in his black habit and moving with mammoth strides down the corridors, at times we were panic-stricken (when we were skipping calculus), frequently anxious (Francis knew everything, about everyone), yet always full of respect and affection. The bundle of jangling keys on his belt would give him away: there was still time to get to class, put out a cigarette, or close the Cortázar novel and open the physics book. I say he knew everything and I’m not exaggerating. Father Francis still knows everything. Not long ago we were with him for the 30th anniversary of our graduation and his questions were on target: names—both first and last, dates, number of children, names of our parents, and anecdotes. When we were in school, his memory was unerring also—and quite frightening: “Why,” he would ask, looking with steely blue eyes above black-rimmed glasses, “did they throw you out of geometry class, Mr. Silva?” Yes, about the hundreds of us in high school, Francis knew everything that was relevant. When one arrived at school late, the tragedy of catching a Chía bus on the expressway or a Lijacá bus on 7th Street—depending on whether you preferred running through a pasture of puddles or walking down a long and poorly paved road which also had its share of puddles—was nothing compared to the encounter with Father Francis. “So, Mr. Silva, what brings you to school so early?” he would ask. And he would laugh. So I would laugh also. Two seconds later, Francis’ smile would freeze and he would ask, “What’s the joke?” I’m sure that same phrase caused trembling in Vice-president Francisco Santos or in the director of El Tiempo, his cousin Rafael; in the ex-president Pastrana or in the CEO of the Federation of Coffeegrowers, Gabriel Silva; as well as in all the now-distinguished persons who passed through the Colegio. And, finding ourselves in a similar situation today, we would still tremble. Yes, every last one of us would tremble. Father Francis is the conscience of the Sancarlista, a Jiminy Cricket become Benedictine. He’s a man with 40 years in Colombia who has dedicated himself more than any Colombian to making of us a country, and above all, a better country, by making good citizens. Thanks to Father Francis, San Carlos is a state of mind more than a school. He is, to use an unpardonable cliché, an attitude toward life. And this attitude toward life does not come from the teachers, even though they also undoubtedly express it. It comes from Father Francis. All Sancarlistas have Father Francis in their very soul. In crucial decisions, there is Father Francis, their example of right and decency, of total dedication to an ideal greater than his personal life (education in Colombia), of respect for others’ ideas and of tolerance, of never putting on airs of being better or superior to anyone because of their beliefs or social class or bank account. On the contrary, he’s a man who feels deeply the obligation which flows from these privileges and this education. He is committed to support the less privileged, as the monks have been doing in the community of Lijacá through Colegio San Benito. That is what Father Francis is for me. I carry him with me always. And a good part of the Sancarlistas that I know carry him within also. It’s true that there is a Sancarlista spirit which strives to win, which wants to be the best, and which turns out to be somewhat abrasive, even too competitive and challenging at times. But in its best sense, the Sancarlista is a good citizen. He’s a committed citizen who has made his own the phrase of Father Francis—which will be the title of a book about the 45 years of San Carlos edited by Nicolás Barrios and the Colegio San Carlos Alumni Association—“There are no shortcuts, no easy paths.” “It is necessary,” Father Francis wrote [in a yearbook] already thirty years ago, “that we search for truth and put it into practice no matter the sacrifice or work required to achieve it. We have all tried easy solutions and have seldom found them successful.” What a lesson for a country addicted to quick and easy solutions. |
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