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By James Dempsey
James W. Conlin of Ward Street, Worcester, was the first day scholar accepted at Holy Cross; he entered in the fall of 1870. By the end of the century, about 20 percent of the students attending the College were day scholars. They had to stay in the study hall during the midday break—and, curiously, were forbidden to carry letters for boarding students. Holy Cross historian and professor of history, Rev. Anthony J. Kuzniewski, S.J., surmises that the purpose of this mysterious rule was to avert the carrying of romantic letters between boarders and their Worcester girlfriends.
Day scholars—more commonly know as “day-hops”—became an important part of the College’s academic DNA. The greatest numbers attended around the time of World War II, when they comprised about one quarter of the student body. This trend then decreased steadily, until in 1991, only 36 of the 3,742 students attending Holy Cross were commuters. The most-quoted reason for this decline is the demand by students for “the full college experience,” which means—as Rev. Earle Markey, S.J., ’53 of the Admissions Office, puts it—living far enough away to be independent but close enough to have the option of going home to hit the parents up for a little cash. Today, the College doesn’t keep track of commuters—they are wrapped into the larger group of off-campus students.
Paul J. Connors ’65 recalls hitchhiking to classes across the city on the then relatively new expressway. His father, a general practitioner with an office opposite Hahnemann Hospital, was an alumnus of Holy Cross, so it was no surprise that Paul and two of his siblings, John ’61 and Richard ’63, would also attend the College. The other brother, David, received his degree from Princeton. All went into medicine.
After graduating from Holy Cross, Connors opted to continue his studies at the University of Maryland Medical School for the major reason that none of his older brothers had attended the school. “I had been ‘John Connors’ brother’ ever since I entered Christ the King kindergarten,” he explains. “John had just graduated number one in his class at Georgetown—I wasn’t going to be known as John’s brother anymore.”
While working for the U.S. Navy Connors pursued his law degree at George Washington University in Washington, D.C. “I went through the evening division,” he says, “and I’m proud to say I day-hopped.” Connors blended the two disciplines by working as a forensic pathologist for the armed forces, creating a department of legal medicine.
Attending college as a day scholar was “a different student life,” Connors recalls, but one he relished. “When I entered in 1961, the freshmen who lived on campus were in their rooms before 10 p.m.; there was a lights out, and there was a Jesuit on the floor—and you had to sign in for Mass every single morning,” he explains—“so there was a lot to be said for not living on campus. And Worcester was as booming an urban center as you could find anywhere. It was a great place to be raised and a great place to be a day-hop.”
Day students spent what spare time they had in a room set aside for their use in the basement of Carlin Hall. The space provided students with lockers for the ties and sports coats then required for class, but little else. The most common activity was playing cards. Connors recalls day-hops—a term considered pejorative by some—referred to even less fondly as “three-decker brown-baggers,” since they had to bring their own lunches. “Some would walk over to Kimball and run the risk of being thrown out by eating upstairs with the residents,” he remembers.
Many colleges found it difficult to integrate day students. Unlike boarders, they had family obligations, retained their high school friendships, and often had jobs; these factors worked against their taking full advantage of college life. A question on a survey conducted in 1963 asked Holy Cross day students whether they felt they had as strong a voice in school activities as boarders; two-thirds answered “no.”
Paul D. Morano ’63 began commuting from Grafton Hill to Mount St. James after winning a baseball scholarship to Holy Cross. “It was a challenge,” he says. “Most of the time it was a matter of taking two buses, but, as we got older, we started making connections with kids who had cars. The other challenge was to get home. Freshmen classes ended at 3:30 or 3:45 p.m.—then we had to stay for practice. We didn’t get out until 6:30 or so.
“There were 400-500 day-hops, so it was a good group,” he continues. “We had a Worcester club that organized social events and dances and so on. There wasn’t a lot of contact with the boarders other than being in class with them, and sometimes seeing them at events. My connection was with the athletes.”
Morano majored in education and minored in French. After graduate school he taught at Worcester Academy and in the public schools. Finishing his career at Doherty High School in Worcester as department chairman in foreign languages, he was the schools’ citywide foreign languages liaison; Morano still does consulting work for the system. A baseball coach at Holy Cross for about 15 years, he also worked part time on the sports desk of the Worcester Telegram.
John S. McCann ’63 commuted to school from Salisbury Street in a 1948 Plymouth coupe that had been passed down from his three older brothers, all of whom were Holy Cross day-hops. The car had a hole in the floor—and was “held together by Scotch tape and bailing wire,” he says, but it got him through his undergraduate years—and even took McCann and his friends to basketball games and to dances at women’s colleges. A political science major at Holy Cross, he entered law school after graduation and now serves as a Superior Court judge.
“The day room was just a big, wide, open area with a locker room to the side and a lot of tables,” McCann says. “We’d eat our lunches there or find a quiet spot to study. ‘Hearts’ was a popular game.”
He found the rift between boarders and day scholars to be slight. “Our class was a tight class,” McCann says. “We all knew each other and everyone got along great. There was a difference, yes. If you lived on campus you were more involved, so day-hops pretty much had to try and become involved as much as possible. Being off campus, it wasn’t as intense an experience, but it was an outstanding one anyway.
“We had more Jesuits than lay teachers, and the Jesuits were extraordinary people,” he continues. “Fr. Raymond Swords, who was the president of the College, taught calculus, and that was the toughest course I ever took in my life. But Fr. Swords was so very patient. If you had difficulties he would take the time to go through that portion with you.
“It was a great time,” McCann recalls. “The best four years of my life.”
About James Conlin, that first day-hop to walk up Linden Lane to the College, we know very little. He started in the 1st Rudiments class in September and did well enough to be promoted to 3rd Humanities in October, but there are no records for him after February 1871.
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Worcester Day Room in Carlin Hall, mid-1960s