Content updated on 04/28/19
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This page is all about you, the alumni of the Hurricane Class of 1964. Your anecdotes and stories will be featured on this page and we do hope you send in some wonderful memories of your years at school (and after) for all to enjoy. Please send the stories of your shenanigans to Mary O'Neill at maritimereunion64@comcast.net
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It appears that one of your dedicated Organizers, whose name shall not be mentioned has intimated that some stories appear to take on new life and extra details as the years go by. Not having been there, yours truly can only dutifully place a Truth Meter on these FUN pages.--Mary O. Get ready, here they come....!
2019 UPDATE:
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We are once again accepting stories of your wild exploits. Check out our newest addition on Just For Fun- Page 3, contributed by Vince Barra!
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And the Band Played On.....and On....and On.........
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Our first training cruise departure for Southampton, England on a hot day in June,1961 was cause for both elation and high anxiety. We had survived our first year and were about to leave Throgg’s Neck, embarking on the first test of our seamanship, scholarship, character and ability to overcome all obstacles. Shined and spotless we stood at full attention, every nerve charged, every eye surreptitiously scanning the cheering crowd anxiously anticipating our leave taking. For our part, we were proud to be in the Maritime Band-strutting our stuff and giving a rousing cadence to this very visible and awe inspiring event. Our ritualized pomp, circumstance, chin-in marching and band playing would further reinforce the seriousness of our mission and the trust that was put in us. This was a BIG DEAL and, we were reminded, we best not foul anything up. Finally, on precise command, all lines were dropped and we sharply played our signature leave-taking piece, Anchors Aweigh. As the tears on shore began to flow, we played our hearts out, awaiting the sounds, vibrations, whistles and movement that would signal our final musical notes as our trusty ship pulled away from the dock. The engine was revving, the mud was flying, the crowd was now cheering but the Empire State IV was curiously still, unmoving. As Mugs we did as we were directed, so like an old 78 record stuck in a groove, we played Anchors Away again. Sweating profusely and peering over our music stands after the second rendition, we searched in vain for a command that we could stop blowing and banging on our instruments. Nothing. So on we played again… and again… and again… and again, while the Brass scrambled to figure out why the Empire State IV was not budging. Shoreside, our nearest and dearest started muttering. Our faces were turning crimson, and our shoulder shrugging was becoming noticeable. The Band was baffled…were we being led by a deranged Conductor. Had he forgotten that we were not expected to play all the way to the Stepping Stones light? Had the engine failed? Had the prop been removed by night raiders from King’s Point?? Was the world coming to an end or worse (gasp) had the Authorities failed to check the tide charts???? Soon, the improbable and unimaginable became horrifyingly obvious. Due to a massive planning blunder on someone’s part, we, the in-training, fresh faced, clean shaven class of ’64, future officers and stars of the Maritime industry were hard aground at the DOCK on their first training cruise. That the bottom had shoaled sufficiently to mire a 489’6” ship defied logic, but there we sat… playing in the sun, our lips turning to floppy putty in our now soaking wet uniforms on the deck of the ship stuck in the muck. Thank God for McAllister. 
From l-r:
C.R. McIntyre, W.E. Preeg, J.J. McNamara
Extra Tugs were dispatched post-haste, orders barked, lines were secured and stretched to the max and the Empire State IV slowly dislodged from the muck as the allegedly 12th and final rendition of Anchors Aweigh could be heard squawking from the exhausted Band.
While the cause was never definitively announced, the recurring scuttlebutt below decks has withstood the test of time (if not scientific rigor, verification, and validation). Engineers scrambled to calculate the difference in (ahem!) detritus that had accumulated beneath the ship between September and May when our class began using the ship as a dormitory, complete with pre-EPA regulated heads. If you get my drift, this became the obvious reason for the disparity between the chart depth and our reality that day. Quite simply put, the combined head discharge from the Empire State IV had apparently surpassed the dispersal and carrying capacity of Eastchester Bay, Long Island Sound and the East River combined. |
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On our 2nd Class Cruise the training ship visited Genoa. My Dad had contacted our relatives in Messina, Sicily that I was going to be in Genoa. My cousin Santo Parisi was a student at the University of Pisa at that time. So he came to Genoa to visit me. But I had never met him and did know he was coming. I was paged to the gangway to meet my visitor. I was thrilled to meet a cousin and the chance to learn about my roots in Italy. But he could not speak English and I could not speak Italian.
I did not know what to do. Then someone told me Vincent Tabbone was fluent in Italian. He was on a work detail but he was paged and came to the gangway. He spent most of the afternoon with us until Santo had to leave. Vincent was able to translate for us so that we could learn about each other and our family history. Many years later Santo came to New York to visit our family and I too had the pleasure of visiting him and his family in Messina several years ago. Thank you Vinny for saving the day. |
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Another Vinny Story... This time it’s a Vincent Cox story
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On our senior cruise we stopped in Bremen, Germany. Vinny’s mother asked him to look up a man who was a close friend of this mother's very good friend. All he had was a short note with a name and an address in Hamburg. He asked me to accompany him on the search for this person who his mother's friend had dated as a young girl growing up in Germany.
We took a taxi and the driver took us to the address. It was in the port in Hamburg. I thought who lives here? It was not a residential area. It turned out this gentleman was the Port Captain of Hamburg. We spent a memorable day as his guest for dinner at his residence. Capt Morgenstern (do not remember if spelling is correct) was merchant officer and was captured by the British navy off the coast of Africa in 1940. He spent the war years in a POW camp in Canada in his words as a “Guest of the Queen”. While a prisoner he built a model of his cargo ship which he kept in a glass display case. It was a truly memorable experience for me. |
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Did you know this??
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Courtesy of Bill Steffenhagen
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It was my class reunion, all through the house, I checked in each mirror and begged my poor spouse, To say I looked great, that my chin wasn’t double And she lied through false teeth, just to stay out of trouble. Said that ‘neath my thick glasses, my eyes hadn’t changed, And I had the same physique, it was just a mite rearranged. She said my skin was still silky, although looser in drapes, Not so much like smooth satin, but more like silk crepes. I swallowed her words hook, sinker and line, And entered the banquet feeling just fine. Somehow I’d expected my classmates to stay, As young as they were on that long-ago day when We’d hugged farewell hugs. But like me, through the years, They’d added gray to their hair, and pounds to their rears. But as we shared a few memories and retold some class jokes, We were eighteen in spirit, though we looked like our folks. We turned up hearing aid volumes and dimmed down the light, Rolled back the years and played young for the night. --Anonymous |
Kings Point Raid
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Mug year, spring 1961. A dozen of us decided to raid Kings Point. Shortly after midnight we took a longboat and slipped away from our dock. All dressed in peacoats and black wool watchcaps. We rowed across Long Island Sound with no lights toward KP. Not very bright with ships and tugs plying the route in and out of north entrance to New York harbor. We had to cross their path to get to Kings Point. 
"FORT SCHUYLER CLASS OF 1964" Just below it I put in small letters "yb" for my initials, Yogi Barra. I said to myself they will never figure out who that was. We then all got into our boat and rowed back to our dock. A few weeks later, KP cadets raided Fort Schuyler. The Third classmen, Class of 1963 then raided KP. Class of '63 always were envious of us and always a step behind. The next week the Supt. of Kings Point advised our Admiral that if anyone was caught on federal property i.e., Kings Point, they would be prosecuted under Federal law. That put an end to raids. |
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During our 1/c cruise my fire station was on the 01 deck right outside the Officer's Ward Room. I had two (2) life preservers, A good one in case I really needed it and one with all the kapok removed. 
Larry, Darryl, and...........................Dennis
(Haaah, thought I was going to type Darryl, didn'tcha?) All the Officers were at their fire stations so no one was around. Never got caught. We loved to hear, "This is a test, all hands to your stations". Beer Tonight. Years later as the story was being relayed to Willie Sembler, he told of arguments in the Ward Room on the missing beer. Willie said "They never suspected the cadets"........... |
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Anecdotes from my Days at Schuyler
by Jay "Beads" Barsin
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There are many “stories” and, as I write these, more come to
my mind. Others can describe the pain of
waiting out in the weather (Public Phones located on the fantail exposed to wind,
rain, and snow during the restricted hours permitted for calling your girl,
snitched from under your nose by an upper classman! Then there is the machine shop
Lab story of the “WEDGE” the simplest tool known to man….or the “YORK BRODSKI”…..and
so on and so forth.
Our fine Chef-Charles (de la) Rey spent most his day fashioning Hockey Pucks
(Hamburgers)
Collusion Mats (pancakes) and reportedly hustling food
providers.
When he extended (perhaps “overextended”) la Carte into world of continental cuisine “Pasta”; the bo- weevils did him in. A “Food Strike” was called by the upper class and the snack shop made a killing. Never one to shy from opportunity my roommate (Joe Lemerise) and I moved into the food vacuum by starting the “SUB” sandwich business which provided snacks directly to 4th Class students berthed in the hole. At no small cost to our careers-over the wall at 3pm, bus to supermarket, grab two cans ham and get it sliced, 4 dozen French style Bagnettes, lettuce, mustard, mayo etc and carry it all back to the ship. Then we’d make the sandwiches in our room and deliver to the hole. “Capitalism” coupled with hard work and high risk is a wonderful way to earn a buck.
Tried to make the drill team but was really
challenged by
the rifle toss-oh I could throw it ok but I was never really
certain if it
would come down near my intended receiver target (and not in my intended target). It
seemed as if the person charged with throwing his at me had a
similar problem
(Greg Bonar).
One had to clear at least 4 team marchers flipping the piece overhand behind him and place it almost in the hands of the receiver because if he had to look for it points lost 
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I had decided after Day One in indoctrination that I wanted
to be an engineer; unfortunately I had checked the Marine Trans option on my
application. Chairman Prof Foody
indicated he would review my grades after one year as a “DECKIE” and then
decide my worthiness to become a snipe. That was a great year, my mug year, as
I was exposed to as much of the humanities as I wanted.
World History was the only waste (Saturday morning first two periods) and that was not the fault of the material studied, it was the professor who reread ancient lectures and managed to put all to sleep every Saturday. It’s so easy to remember the good professors but A. Gares was bad enough to live on in my memory to this date. Moving to the ship-the Class of 64 was the
first to start
their academic life at Schuyler on the Empire State 4 and, at
same time, have
to serve under a retired Coast Guard Admiral as president, all
while a bridge (the
Throgs Neck) was being built over our heads.
MUG night watches still included the security clock with key that was to be inserted at each inspection station. Boy! It got really cold on those nightly rounds to insure our safety. Kind of reminded me of anchor watches later in my career. Lieutenant (jg.) Joe Sauvé would check out the security clocks’ paper insert to insure not one key had been missed. It was said that someone learned how to indent the record paper without ever leaving the ship. Jay Barsin at head of line
On my Senior Cruise, Commander Fledging
made another of
those “almost career changing decisions-for him” by asking me to
take
responsibility for the Evaporators as “WATERKING”, thereby
entrusting 400 lives
to a guy who still prefers wine to water any day.
I tried for about 30 days to speed up grape fermentation using 5 pound steam as an accelerator but while we could make the “musto” ferment quickly, wine it was not. So instead of just standing watch, I had the opportunity to maintain the equipment that, when tied together, provided all the fresh water available to the ship. One day in attempting to remove an impeller from its shaft, I used the “don’t hurt yourself-use a bigger hammer” scientific approach. After about 4 major swings, I looked up to find myself looking into the eyes of Prof Dr Foody who suggests softly “that perhaps loosening the set pin might be helpful”. It was good advice …I was a little sorry he had not seen fit to loosen the set screw (one year delay) he had placed in me. Hey wait one last anecdote to share. I opted to apply to join
the Pershing Rifles
and would have liked to make the trick drill squad. I guess I was acceptable in
my military
bearing because those
tough COs, Rudi
Shadrik and Jack
Ringleberg , and the
entire company P-8 who after putting all of us candidates,
through pledge hell
accepted my application.
Anyway, I tried to make the challenge but
best I could ever do
was to serve as a “fill in” at a competition.
Several good things came out of my PR membership
experience.
One for certain was being chosen as an IDO Marching Specialist. I could give up two weeks of leave and work with the new mugs (Class of 66), another was the wearing of the blue battle ribbon on our dress uniform that looked so lonely but still it was a RIBBON that came with a great cost (rumors that it was a Chick magnet are entirely false). Now the ship store sells all kinds of ribbons for membership in various clubs. Last (really) was being commissioned as an “Ensign” in the Pershing Rifles. All the other officers in the PRs in our operational area were ARMY so if they were Cadet Officers they were never Ensigns, or JGs, or Commanders. We all submitted our ladies photos to the judges each year for consideration as company sponsor. Carol was selected as the 62-63 sponsor. 
It was being one of a kind in so many ways.
Thank you Class
Mates and Maritime.
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Why
thermal and
fluids? I don’t know
-but they were my
favorites-Strength of Materials –least favorite.
One day Prof Wennagel aka “THE JAW” gave an important quarterly test- problem sheets handed to each student. Trouble was that parallel rows of desks were given DIFFERENT tests. A fact not known to takers until grades came back. Copiers were exposed and obtained an “F”. A practical man..Reminded me of the famous POWER magazine hero Marmaduc Surfaceblow or maybe even Reno King himself. 
Last but not least, I could not suffer a
fool who would
collect many little demerits (5 shots-messy hair, shoes, etc.)
but admired
those that could earn the big ones (50 and up) for the mighty
deeds. My first
50 was earned as a 3rd classman on cruise.
The civilian attire I had acquired in Rome (Alta moda) was coming home with me …at least until someone discovered it hidden (badly as it turns out) in the fiddly. It took almost a year for the next 50 shot. City Island beckoned and a terrible thirst had to be quenched. So I borrowed a dinghy and sailed over. ..And back. It worked well several times until there was a midnight calm that descended upon the eastern end of the Sound and the tide was going out. As I returned to the Fort, creeping around the seawall about 7 am, then around the Empire State 4, and then into the boat basin, who saw me? Mr. Curry, who was not only a Company commander forming up his company to leave for breakfast but was the Commodore of the Yacht Club, who knew well those entitled to take a boat out and when. 
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By Bob Carty
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During our second class year, I would occasionally bum a ride home with a
certain third classman who happened to have a car on campus. One
particular Saturday we left the Fort right after inspection and stopped
at the gas station on Pennyfield Avenue to fuel up. As the third class
driver was pumping, he discovered that he was very short of cash.
He stopped just in time at about 75 cents (three gallons in those days) and was able to get enough money from me and another cadet passenger to cover what had been pumped. That left one problem: how do we get across Throggs Neck Bridge with no money. “Aha", says the driver. “I heard” that a South African penny will work in the toll machines. It so happened that this cadet had a stash of such pennies. So, we pulled out of the Pennyfield Avenue entrance across 3 lanes of traffic to get to an exact change lane. The driver tossed the penny into the machine and “k’ching” the gate opened. I was afraid that we were going to be stuck in the exact change lane, but the driver had no doubt it would work. Who was the driver you might ask? It was none other than one Gerry Rivera! |
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