Graduation Speech, May 9, 2021

 They came from all over the place, these 39 children. Some came from different towns, different states, and one came from all the way across the world. They never expected to end up in the same place at the same time or to be sorry to say goodbye to each other one far off day in the future. How was it possible for 39 kids so different from each other in so many ways to become so attached? After all, they were scholars and singers and artists and musicians and writers and dancers and athletes and orators.  They were brown and black and Asian and white, especially Tanner Turek and Cole Kleint, whom Mr. Howard dubbed the whitest boys in America.

Many of them started school together when they were 11 years old and in the sixth grade. There were grand adventures. Bats was one of them. 

“Stay calm,” Mr. Nick Mohr ordered in science class one day when a bat floated from the ceiling to briefly graze Jonathan Novinski’s leg. 

Sixth grade was also time to learn how to be polite young ladies and gentlemen. There were etiquette lessons at Riverside. They were taught the difference between a salad fork and a dessert fork, and the young gentlemen were instructed to pull out chairs for the young ladies. But then Tanner - you remember, the really, really white boy - had to ruin the whole thing by gargling loudly with ice water and spitting into Molly Mueller’s glass.

Even in the eighth grade, the boys tortured each other with slap fights and dodge ball games turned violent. Innocent little Zach Cloud became hysterical when Russ and Reid, the evil Martinez cousins, convinced him that to even touch the black knobs on classroom chairs would result in contracting the AIDS virus. And nobody let Jackson Farias, the nicest boy in class, ever forget that at one eighth grade wrestling match he’d been pinned by a girl. 

Then there was Gavin Langer who dislocated his knee outside the science room when he attempted a 360 air flip by running up the side of his locker.

By their freshmen year, the girls were at least maturing into talented and hard working young women. Amanda Kulp was applying herself to her studies determined even then to enter the medical field. Grace Herbek was the kind of girl who would go out of her way to invite the new kid at school to feel welcome.

“Come sit with my friends and me,” she’d smile her lovely smile. 

Mya Wragge’s beauty, like her mama’s and three sisters’,  could have graced magazine covers, but she was always gentle and kind.

And then there was Dei - who made five easy bucks on a dare to lick gum stuck to a lunchroom chair.

It’s true that most of these graduating girls, anyway, were a dream come true. Sweet Lidia Ramirez, a Catholic saint in the making, once donated her entire detasseling paycheck to the poor. Her good friend Ashley Escalante Lopez not only went to school full time but worked just as many hours at the hospital - and during Covid, no less. Lovely Alicyn O’Neill was not only a gifted student but an exceptional softball player. Nobody possessed more grit than Hailey Asche. She could read poetry like a queen in English class but hurl herself fearlessly to the floor to save a volleyball. Ashlyn Kucera, who inherited stellar athletic genes from her good parents, competed like a pro on the tennis court. Ellie Alberts and Kennadi Henke, those gorgeous, talented girls, crushed it once again at the state dance competition and made us all so proud.

But not all these girls were angels. You could hear Lexi Mudloff and Andrea Palma cackle all over the building. One fine day, Lexi broke Andrea’s tooth when she ground her face into the lunchroom table. And then there was Celia Sutherland, who started out her first grade year by busting out of elementary school to walk home all by herself. By the time she was a senior, Celia was attempting to bust INTO school every Thursday morning right after Mass. 

Maybe Celia’s rebellion was understandable. 

Before these children had barely started their junior year, tragedy struck. Nini Pham, whose laughter was like windchimes, was snatched away from them on a warm, windswept October evening. They could hardly believe it. Many of them had never experienced death, but for death to come to Nini was unthinkable. Russell, who had been Nini’s homecoming date the year before, went home to weep and pray for his beautiful friend. Celia drove and drove that night before she finally stopped to bang her fists on the steering wheel. “Why?” she demanded. Raegan Gellatly tearfully walked past Nini’s empty desk in English class Monday morning to ask for the poem she’d written about Nini only a few days earlier.

With Nini’s death, 39 children learned their first great lesson. Life keeps going, and you have to go with it. They did, too. Not long after Nini’s funeral, Hailey Asche and blonde Maddie Urbanski, who could be tough as nails, took the volleyball team to a state championship. And Nini’s fellow cheerleaders? Julia and Urbo and Hailey Henke dedicated the season to Nini and came home with their very first state cheer championship. Nini had taught them that life was too short to be wasted.

It never occurred to any of them that a pandemic would shut the world down in March and drive home that lesson again and again. For 39 energetic kids, quarantine was torture. Barely had it begun when tragedy struck again. Gavin lost his brother Colton. Because Gavin couldn’t go to school during that unearthly time of quarantine, school came to him. In a long parade of vehicles, every one of his classmates extended their love and support through the open windows of their cars. His best friends - wonderful Hayden Price and Jackson Farias - strapped on masks to hug and console Gavin and to assure him of their friendship. 

These kids learned a lot about friendship and even more about loss. In the heat of July when at last it seemed that they could think about returning to school, Zach’s young, beautiful mother Karen Cloud - the mother who was caretaker, cheerleader and best friend to all her children - collapsed suddenly and left her family forever. Zach came back to GICC in August and wandered these halls with misery in his eyes. It was too much for all these children, and too fast. There was no time to absorb one tragedy before another swallowed them up.

So it was no wonder that some of them struggled with their faith. But that was all right. What is faith if not tested?  Not much at all.

Hayden Price, humbled by the losses of that terrible year, embraced God all the more and stood up for his Catholic beliefs. Fighting for the lives of the unborn, Hayden spoke like a statesman.

In fact, every one of those kids came back for his or her senior year of high school with renewed purpose. Life was not to be wasted. The people in their lives became sacred. Every moment was to be cherished. 

Nini Pham

Brayden loved his Julia even more. And Brayden, along with those ornery middle school boys Russell, Tanner, Dei and Kobi grew into the passionate young men who would sweep the boys state basketball tourney for the first championship in 21 years. “Microwave,” Mr. Howard dubbed Tanner for the way he came off the bench to score six threes and heat up things fast. And “Crockpot” when he didn’t. Will Goering shined not only in the classroom but in every sport he competed in, and he and Noah Ruzicka, who worked harder than anybody else in the weight room, and all those other senior boys helped take the football team to the state playoffs after losing every game their freshman year.

Reagan sang even more sweetly and Maddie Nielsen beamed her smile - that smile that could melt a million hearts - even more brightly. Tristen cherished the outdoors on those fine hunting days with his father, and Kenny Castillo wailed the blues on his sax. Our unique and funny Celia knocked it out of the ball park with her OID piece at district speech. Kobi Bales bravely decided to throw caution to the wind by auditioning for the school musical with his stirring rendition of “TAKE ME HOME, COUNTRY ROADS”, and landed the only non-singing part in the entire cast.

Even those kids who were a little quieter surprised their classmates. Gabe Wemhoff might possibly be the only professional teenage auctioneer in the state. Molly Mueller gave her whole heart to the musical and astounded us with her comedy routine at speech meets. Johnny P. Partington composed beautiful music and mastered the art of the drop dead funniest one liners ever. And Cole Kleint? That sweet, quiet boy went and got himself elected Prom King.

The charming Spaniard, Daniel Martinez, missed his good friends so much that he flew all the way back from Spain to spend his senior year at Central Catholic. But after all, is there anywhere in the world more alluring than Grand Island, Nebraska?

Seniors save a seat
for Nini at graduation

They grew up during that terrible year - all of them. Jonny Novinski went down hard with Covid and lost out on a fourth state swimming championship. In the end, though, he decided his family and friends were what counted most. And a Harvard education. That’s right. Our boy’s going to Harvard. Charles Armstrong, that mischievous little boy in middle school, worked his hardest to earn the K-Hop and will be as fine a doctor as there ever was. 

Most of them sit here today with their faith in tact and stronger than ever. But some still struggle. God understands. A man by the name of Francis Thompson once wrote that “God, like the hound of Heaven, comes relentlessly searching after us.” None of us worry about any of these nice kids. God refuses to allow a single one to slip through his fingers.

Just a few weeks ago, Reid Martinez was hit by the magnitude of graduation. “I don’t want to go,” he said. “We finally got to be together again. I want it to last for a while.”  None of them realize it just yet, but today will be the last day they ever are all together under one roof. Oh, there will be summer gatherings and Christmas vacations and 10, 20 and even 50 year reunions. But not all of them will make those important events. That's how it is. Today is special, and it’s the last time.

The Bible says each of us is surrounded by a cloud of witnesses - all those people and ancestors who went to Heaven before us and who love us so much. They marched right in with these 39 kids today, right along to the notes of Pomp and Circumstance. Maybe we can’t see them. But sometimes we sense them close by. Zach might feel the touch of his mother’s hand as she beams so proudly upon her beautiful boy. Gavin’s brother is certainly here, clapping Gavin on the shoulder and cheering him on. And if you hear something like wind chimes? That would be our Nini, laughing and darting about the beautiful faces of her classmates - Nini, who will always be her sweet and shining 16-year-old self long after you are all grandparents.

They’ll march out with you today, too - straight into the exciting and unknowable future - and love you and pray for you all the rest of your lives. So will we. How could we not? You’re the remarkable, magnificent class of 2021, and we couldn’t be prouder. 

Until we meet again, good luck and God bless you.

Grand Island Central Catholic Class of 2021