Gold Medals

Father More : In Memoriam

Tributes and Works in the Memory of a Guiding Spirit

Gold Medals

Treasured Teachings

For those unfamiliar with the concept, here is a brief description of this painful instrument of swift justice, clearly derived from the dark practices of the
Spanish Inquisition.

Having got caught out infringing a rule or committing a misdemeanour (usually after prior warnings), you would find yourself cornered in the school grounds by Fr. More. You would be held firmly with one arm around your shoulder, while with the other hand Fr. More would pinch a large area of skin on your chest -the 'Gold Medal'!

Your exquisite pain would be balanced by your peals of laughter, caused by the vigorous tickling at the same time! You
squirmed and wriggled and tried your hardest to break free, to no avail. At the same time, Fr. More would state loudly, for the benefit of the gathering crowd of gleeful onlookers, the crimes
of which you were accused and ask for your repentance and commitment not to
transgress again.

There was little
choice but to promise complete cooperation
and with the details of the event forever imprinted in your brain, there was little danger of forgetfulness in the future. The message was not lost on the
spectators, either, with many swearing to tread the rightful path - at least until
the next 'Gold Medal' was bestowed on
another hapless Campionite!

Here are a few anecdotes, with more in the Tribute document.

About 75 of us Scouts were camping on an abandoned air strip of World War II vintage on the Madh Islands near the sea shore at a distance from the then Bombay.

Just two days were enough to clog the eight WCs which did not have piped water supply. Father More
could have called a Jamadaar and got the WCs cleaned. But our "Spanish Harijan" had different plans. He made all of us form a human chain to pass buckets full of water from the nearest water source
100 meters away. He positioned himself at the WC end of the human chain with a "Seenkh Jhadu" and
cleaned all the toilets himself!

His example not only put 75 of us Scouts to shame but also opened our eyes to what we conceived as
“dirty” work and below our dignity.

Courtesy: Akhilesh Bhargava (1970)

Father More was truly God's own Man - 'Bhagwan ka
Banda'! A Priest who lived and worked tirelessly for his school and his students. He also did weave the staff into a close-knit family. The only time that Father More gave an indication that he too had a family (parents, brothers and sisters) was in 1968 when he
visited his home town in Spain. He did carry gifts back home and I did help him shop for these gifts - a handbag, Bhopal's famous zari and bead purses and a Benarsi saree for his niece.

The indulgent father that he was, he asked me what he could get me from Spain. I was just out of my teens and did hand him over a long wish list. On the top of my list was 'Mixie' (in those days imported 'Mixies' were the "in thing" for middle class kitchens). My wish list also included varying shades of Yardley and Revlon lipsticks, nail polishes and perfumes!

With a twinkle in his light bluish green eyes he pocketed the list and assured me that with the help of his niece he would "buy all the stuff and fill in the
entire order."

He came back and he did hand me over a really grand 'Mixie' (still sitting tall in my kitchen and working noisily, like my class in school). But he just
kept quiet about my other list of 'farmaish'. I waited
most patiently. After a week, which I thought was a decent interval, I picked up the courage to corner him
at the coffee table in the staff room in the short recess, in the presence of the entire staff. Half sadly and half humourously he shook his shoulders, clicked his tongue and lisped in his
unique style "Dheeyar young ladhy, you donth know whath all that stuff of yours puth me intho. Those
chaps ath the custhoms lookedth at me with the
greatest suspicion and nearly caught me. They asked me "What sorth of a priest are you man?
Carrying all ladhies sthuff? We would have detained
you if were you not a priesth!"

The entire staff burst into roars of laughter which echoed from side to side. I blushed and joined in the fun too.

Father was a sporting man - a team player
and a leader. The most unforgettable character I ever came across. I cannot help smiling to myself even today when I recall his hearty laugh and his rare loving expression.

May God rest his soul in peace.

Courtesy: Ms Uma Sharma (Teacher, 1965-1971)

Fr. More while explaining "flexibility" in Physics class bent a plastic foot ruler which suddenly broke in two.

The entire class broke into peals of laughter. Fr. More who initially, went a little red in the face, realised the "funny side" of the situation and joined in with the rest of the class (good sport that he was)!

Courtesy: Rakesh Nagu (1969)

My Father was in the Police. Naturally I was policed at home too by my strict disciplinarian Father. His word was always the last word...no pleas or tears
would make him change his thinking or decisions.

I always wanted to become an Engineer and I was good at Maths. So when it came to choosing a
stream I took Mathematics. My Father blew his top
when he came to know that I was now on course to become an Engineer! He had his own plans for me.
He wanted me to be a Doctor and the next day much against my wishes, I was sitting in the Biology Class!

Days passed by with sadness and helplessness enveloping me and my actions at school and at home. For me life had come to a dead end. Father
More's sixth sense smelt that there was something wrong with me. He quietly did his investigations and
then "summoned" me and said that he wanted to meet my Father. My Father and God Father Fr. More were closeted together for 30 minutes. My Father
came out smiling (for a change) and told me "Join Maths! Become a Good Engineer.”

If I am a good Engineer today I owe it to my God Father, Fr. More."

Courtesy: Mohan Shrivastava (1970)

One afternoon as usual we were preparing for the assembly before we dispersed to go home. I was standing in the Scout Tuck Shop at one corner of the assembly hall ready to switch on the music for the boys to come marching into the assembly area. Suddenly Fr. More asked me not to switch on the music and to pass him some old newspapers. I handed over the old papers to Fr. More. He took the papers and walked up to the cow dung lying splattered in the assembly area - an unseemly sight. He picked up the cow dung and cleaned the place. Only then did he ask me to start the music.

All the boys and staff present there watched him stumped and unable to move or speak. A humble act which left an indelible imprint on all of us. He enacted by action the values which he wanted his students to imbibe.

Courtesy: Hardeep Lamba (1970)