Our wedding was held in St. Thomas chapel on May 22, 1969. The concelebrating priests were Rev. Harold Cohen, S.J. (Loyola chaplain), Rev John Driscoll, S.J. (my uncle), and Rev Francis Connolly (my parish priest). The groom, William Myers, came over from Nottingham University’s English Dept on an exchange for the 1968 – 69 academic year. I was a senior with a double major in English and Education finishing my teaching qualifications by practice teaching at the nearby Mercy High School. The Loyola admin team said I needed one more Eng Lit class to fulfill my credits for the English half of my degree and Bill’s class on Dryden and Pope was the only one that fitted into my teaching schedule.
Raised in an Irish-American household, Bill’s Oxford accent raised my hackles and I tried to ask awkward questions to provoke this English intruder. He found it quite amusing as he was actually born in Dublin and was far more Irish than I was! He’s terrible on remembering names, but he wrote to his mom that he had one brilliant student but wasn’t sure who she was. My best friend knew he interested me and organized a group trip to a Duke Ellington concert. It was suggested he join in to sample the local culture. She rigged the tickets so seven all sat downstairs and Bill and I were sent way up in the gallery. He confessed he was actually tone deaf, and we spent the whole night just talking. That was November. We were engaged by January, after the course had finished. It surprised everyone who thought I was a bookworm and Bill had never been seen dating anyone. We married two days after my graduation.
Bill had to return to his post in Nottingham and my life living in England began. I wrote articles about this transition for my hometown newspaper for a few months, and began an M.A. in American Studies at Nottingham after our second son was born. We have five children, and I managed to return to teaching as they grew up. Bill and I are both retired now; we have seven grandchildren so far. In 2006, I published my memoir, Patchwork: An American Childhood, which concludes with my arrival at Loyola in the teeth of Hurricane Betsy.
We would like to return to New Orleans one day to check out the campus and our first home, an apartment on Henry Clay Ave.
The wedding photos were taken by Russ Cresson who was the Loyola sports photographer. Phil Johnson, a family friend, had promised to take them, but couldn't make it, so Russ helped us out as a last minute savior.