Dear Classmates,
As we approach our 60th year, I’ve found myself reflecting on how much of the foundation for our lives was built during our time at Holy Cross. It’s amazing to think that the friendships, lessons, and experiences from those few years on the hill have carried with us for more than four decades. It has been so fun these past few months to read the letters from our classmates as they looked back on their first 60 years! It’s a little daunting to be writing this now, as I am typically looking at second grade writing, not writing essays myself! But here goes…
When I look back at my time at Holy Cross, what stands out most are the friendships. Some of my favorite memories involve simple moments that somehow became unforgettable. I can still picture walking down to the Caro Street parties in the middle of winter with Jodie Grenier McIntyre, Anne Marie Carey McNierny, Anne Casey Rose, Suzy Hasson dePillis, Patricia Barry, Kristin Briotte, Kathleen Sullivan Wunderlick and Heidi Mechley Felton. At the time, it seemed perfectly reasonable to trek through the Worcester cold for the promise of a good night with friends. Looking back now, I’m amazed we survived the walk there—and even more amazed we walked back (although we sometimes did find a way to get help from campus security!)
And of course, there was sledding down the hills of Alumni as we returned from Caro Street or other off campus fun. I’m fairly certain safety regulations were…different then. We went flying down those hills on Kimball trays with complete confidence and very little thought about what might happen at the bottom. Somewhere along the way I remember even losing some jewelry in the snow—only to have it miraculously reappear when the snow melted that spring. A small miracle, perhaps…though I like to think Holy Cross was looking out for me. I still have two Holy Cross rings today, the perfect symbol of how those years remain part of who I am.
Then there were the parties in the “Tri Street Area” when we lived in our apartment on Crompton Street. Worcester has certainly changed since then, but those old apartment buildings were the setting for so many of our memories. Friends drifting in and out, music playing, laughter spilling into the hallways, and the sense that the night might go on forever. Those apartments may not have been glamorous, but they were full of energy, friendship, and the kind of moments that somehow stay with you long after the furniture and the addresses are gone.
Life since then has taken many of us on winding and sometimes unexpected paths. My own career has come full circle. I began in teaching, moved into the corporate world along the way to dip my toes into Life Insurance Operations, and eventually returned to the classroom. Coming back reminded me why I started in the first place. There is something deeply meaningful about helping young people discover their abilities and their voices. Every year my students remind me that learning—and growth—never really stops.
Sure there have been bumps along the way, losing my father, beating breast cancer and recently getting a brand new right hip, but through all these joys and sorrows one thing has remained a steady source of support and comfort, my Holy Cross gals. They are always there when I need them. I will always be so grateful for that.
Life has also brought wonderful surprises. One of the most meaningful chapters for me happened recently when I got married for the first time. If there is one thing turning sixty has reinforced, it’s that life does not follow a neat timeline. Joy and new beginnings can arrive when we least expect them, and sometimes much later than we imagined. But perhaps that’s part of the beauty of the journey.
As I think about lessons learned along the way, I realize many of them echo the spirit of our Jesuit education. Holy Cross encouraged us to think deeply, to care about the world around us, and to strive to be people who contribute to something larger than ourselves. The Jesuit idea of being “men and women for others” has stayed with me over the years—sometimes quietly in the background, sometimes front and center—but always shaping how I think about work, relationships, and purpose.
Turning sixty feels less like a moment to slow down and more like a moment to appreciate the richness of the road so far. I’ve learned that relationships matter more than almost anything else. That it’s never too late to change direction or return to something that once inspired you. And that some of the best moments in life come unexpectedly—whether it’s rediscovering a career you love, finding something you thought was lost, or beginning a new chapter like marriage.
As we begin this milestone year together, I feel grateful—for our shared history, for the friendships that began on the hill, and for the values that Holy Cross helped instill in all of us. I hope the year ahead gives each of you time to reflect on your own journey, to celebrate the people who have walked it with you, and to look forward with curiosity and hope to whatever comes next.
And if life continues to surprise us the way it already has, I suspect the next chapter may be just as interesting as the first sixty years.
Warm regards,
Maura Reilly Rowell
