Peace, Denny

"An Elk County man was killed by lightning Wednesday while painting the Convent of the St. Boniface Church. Dennis was studying to become a priest. He was a teacher at Holy Rosary School in Johnsonburg also in Elk County, and was a student at Christ the King Seminary in Erie."  (newspaper report, July 10, 1975)

Dennis E. Mattivi

1951-1975

I found out about his death at my uncle's camp. Mom and dad would usually take me there for a week each summer during my youth to give my skinny pale ass some much needed exercise and to give them a break. I was only a couple days into my week at the Hemlock Lodge when I spotted mom and dad's green Nova pulling into the stone driveway. Strange, I thought. What are they doing here? Before I even had a chance to greet them they were speaking in hushed tones with my Aunt Laura and Uncle Andy. Soon, they greeted me and, with sorrowful expression, mom broke the news: "Your teacher died."

At ten, I had experienced death in my family three times. All of them before I was even six years old. My Grandma Muroski (mom's mom) died from cancer in 1969. A year before that, mom's twin sister--my Aunt Bow--died, also from cancer. She was only 45. Grandpa Muroski rounded out the trio--dying also of cancer--in 1967. My memories of these family members are vague, rare and increasingly hazy as I get older. And, while I have plenty of pictures of these deceased relatives to remind me of what they looked like in better days, I have nothing of Dennis. Yet I have the most wonderful memories...and they are getting hazy as well.

Dennis Mattivi was my 5th grade homeroom teacher at Holy Rosary Grade School in the small town of Johnsonburg, Pennsylvania. Sister Mary Agnes Clare--our Principal--made a point of introducing him to the class at the beginning of the school year as a gifted young man who was studying to become a priest. We should be very grateful to have him as our homeroom guardian for the year. I immediately liked him. He was much different from previous teachers--kind, handsome, young and with a smile that simply lit the room. He was also the first really enthusiastic teacher I'd had. He taught science, music, art and, even though I loved the art and music classes I really wasn't too fond of science. The only thing about science I liked was anything that had to do with the study of dinosaurs. This is because I had a huge interest in prehistoric animals and I loved to draw them. In fact, I spent a great deal of time in every class drawing dinosaurs. Of course, this didn't sit well with most of my teachers but when Mr. Mattivi caught me working on one of my masterpieces in pencil, he paused--first scolding me for drawing when I should have been taking notes, then saying, "Wow, this is really good!" as he raised my drawing closer to his face.

Dennis was so impressed with my "artwork" that he asked me if I had more of my drawings and could I bring them to him. Of course I was ecstatic that someone else was showing such enthusiasm for my work! Up to that point, it was mainly my mother and a delightful college friend of my sister's who'd actually praised my dinosaur drawings. I was happy to comply. From September to December of 1974, I brought drawings, little booklets I created and various other creations of dinosaur stuff to Dennis--each time garnering praise until one day, he gathered the various booklets and drawings I'd created and marched me downstairs to the office of the stern nun who happened to be his boss. It was there in Sr. M. Agnes Clare's dark office that Dennis publicly praised my artwork. I couldn't have been more proud! "Just look at these!" he said, "Can you believe this kid's talent?" The stoic nun expressed indifference. She acknowledged the talent but would probably rather have had me drawing pictures of Jesus, Mary and the Saints.

The school year progressed, with my average to below average grades holding steady. Dennis continued to take special interest in me and I appreciated it as much as a 10 year-old was capable. Dennis taught our class beautiful new (to us) songs and we sang them in church. One of them happened to be a song I can still hear in my mind called "Come to Me" based upon a verse from the Gospel of Matthew. He complimented me on my voice. He complimented me period. He always made it a point to praise me when warranted--but never holding back when a scolding was the appropriate response to my behavior. I loved him.

At some point during the year, Dennis confided in me that he was thinking of leaving the seminary. I could--even at my age--sense a bit of confusion or conflict in him. I think he was discovering himself. I mean, he was only 24. So young. I think that way now but as a 10 year-old, he was just another adult. But one that I liked for some reason.

At the end of the year, we were gathered as a class and something happened. I'm not exactly sure what it was but some of the more rowdy boys in the class were very mean to him--you know, the typical classroom instigators. I wasn't one of those. He was a sensitive guy and was clearly hurt by whatever it was they did. It actually brought him to tears. I felt so bad and so helpless. I couldn't protect him but I wanted to. He gave small parting gifts to all of us--the "Irish Blessing" prayer on a wooden plaque. I still have it. On my report card sleeve, he wrote "From Denny" and I still have that as well. I kept a short note he wrote to me at the end of that 5th grade year.  In it he writes:

Tommy,
Just a note of thanks and a small gift of my appreciation. Thanks for all your help and for all those pictures of dinosaurs. Keep drawing and keep smiling. May God grant you many blessings!
Peace,
Mr. Dennis Mattivi
P.S.
Please write.

I'm writing now, Denny...peace to you wherever you are.

Thomas Boylan · Peacedenny.WAV