Dear Holy Cross Class of 1988,
Turning 60 has hit me like a ton of bricks.
It’s not that I didn’t see it coming — we all knew this milestone was out there — but there is something about actually arriving that hits different. It’s reflective, humbling, (painful) and, at times, almost surreal. One minute you’re stepping onto campus for the first time, and the next, you’re looking back across four decades wondering how it all flew by.
I can still see the day I was dropped off in Worcester as if it were yesterday. The car packed, the mix of excitement and uncertainty weighing me down, and me blasting my soundtrack of Purple Rain on my boom box once I set up in my empty football training camp dorm room (the vision of Ian Dowe busting in my dorm room shouting, “hey, I have the same cassette!” …still haunts me). That moment in time, the independence, the unknown, the sense that life was about to start “living”, made everything feel pressurized! Coming from Southern New Jersey, the transition to New England life was real, a culture shock. The accents, the pace, even the seasons felt different. Yet almost immediately, Holy Cross had a way of making you feel like you belonged.
Some of my most defining experiences came on the football field from 1984 through 1987. Being part of Holy Cross Crusader football was more than competition — it was brotherhood, discipline, and purpose. The friendships with Dave Jones, Lee Hull, John Krasnick, and Ian Dowe were created in football, solidified in Mulledy, and built for a lifetime. The friendships made with fellow Crusaders in locker rooms, on practice fields, and in the moments in between have stood the test of time as well. Shared sacrifice — early mornings, tough losses (very few), hard-earned wins — creates bonds that don’t fade.
We experienced something special during those years. We lived through moments that brought national attention to our program — some tragic, reminding us of how fragile life can be, and others filled with pride as we rose to become the number one ranked I-AA team in the country. Those highs and lows shaped us in ways we couldn’t fully appreciate at the time. They taught us resilience, perspective, and the importance of leaning on one another.
Equally impactful were the relationships we had with our coaches. They demanded accountability and excellence — not just as athletes, but as young men. I was fortunate enough to coach high school sports for 20 years, and there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t refer back to what Coach Mark Duffner or Coach Kevin Coyle would say in this situation. Looking back, their lessons went far beyond football. They shaped my character, my leadership, and my understanding of what it means to be part of something bigger than yourself.
And then, almost in a blink, it was May of 1988.
Graduation day brought pride, disbelief, relief, and a sense of transition. Family and friends traveled from Southern New Jersey to share in that moment, marking not just the end of college, but the beginning of everything that followed. Surrounded by classmates and teammates, it felt like we were stepping into the future with confidence — even if we didn’t know what it would hold.
Now, 38 years later, turning 60 brings a different kind of reflection.
You begin to measure life in chapters — careers built, families raised, challenges faced. You realize the lessons from Holy Cross didn’t stay in Worcester; they traveled with you, shaping how you lead, how you respond, and how you grow.
For me, those lessons carried into a long career in education. In many ways, Holy Cross — and Worcester — were not just part of my formal education, but the opening of a door I never could have anticipated.
Early in my career, I worked as an elementary teacher in Camden, New Jersey, for a principal who, coincidentally, was from Worcester. What began as a simple connection became something much more. She saw potential in me that I was still discovering and encouraged me to pursue my M.Ed. in School Leadership. I followed her advice, and in a full-circle moment, she later brought me onto her administrative team once I completed the master’s program. She guided me for 18 months and recommended me for my current position as Principal of a PreK-8 school…who knew! It’s still something I reflect on — how a place that shaped me as a student came back years later to shape my path as a leader.
From the classroom to the principal’s office, my journey has been filled with change and challenge. But at its core, the values we carried from Holy Cross — teamwork, accountability, discipline, and shared leadership — have remained constant. Like those football teams, success has never been about one person, but about building strong teams and trusting the people around you.
Turning 60 has a way of making you pause in ways earlier milestones never quite did.
It brings gratitude — for the experiences, the friendships, and the people who helped shape us. It reminds us that while time has moved quickly, there is still more to give, more to learn, and more ahead.
If anything, this milestone reminds me that those days in Worcester were not just a chapter; they were a foundation. The music, the friendships, the practices, the games, the challenges, and the triumphs all became part of who we are.
So, as I reflect, I’m hit not just by how quickly time has passed, but by how meaningful the journey has been. From that first day with Purple Rain playing loud, to the Mulledy Dorm Olympics (still can’t believe Dave broke his wrist running into that wall!), to the battles on the football field, to graduation in May of 1988, to a career shaped by an unexpected Holy Cross connection, there is a thread that ties it all together.
Holy Cross was never just a place we attended. It was — and still is — a part of who we are.
And maybe that’s what turning 60 truly brings. It may hit hard, but it also brings clarity. It reminds us where we started, how far we’ve come, and how the people and places that shaped us continue to guide us. Worcester opened a door for me more than once — and for that, I will always be grateful.
Here’s to the Class of 1988!
Sincerely,
Byron R. Dixon
Class of 1988
