| By Thea Jarvis
The man responsible for the construction and expansion of the present Marist
School in Atlanta celebrates the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination to the
priesthood this June.
Father Vincent Paul Brennan, SM, the Boston boy who headed South in the
early forties as a teacher of high school algebra, was the heart and head of
Marist's historic move from its downtown location on Ivy Street to its home on
Ashford-Dunwoody Road in suburban Atlanta.
"A lot of people thought I was crazy because I didn't have the
money," Father Brennan says now, remembering days of doubt and
decision-making. "I never needed to get the money" because God
provided it, he smiled.
Such simple faith grew out of a rich, supportive family life that Brennan
recalled with affection and pride at his order's residence up the hill from
Marist School.
"They were never pushy," said Father Brennan of his parents, who
consistently reassured him that his vocation was a personal decision, not
something they were choosing for him.
Their style of sharing within the family affected his administrative
decisions as a Marist principal and later and superior, Father Brennan said.
"Can everybody have some of that?" they would ask young Vincent
when his wishes for something new and special were expressed.
Early-learned lessons moved an older Vincent to ask if a Marist move would
be something to benefit everyone, something that would be good for the
community.
"People would say to me, 'Are you ready to do this?'"
Father Brennan said. After prayer and reflection, "I took the land and I
knew what we should do."
Father Valentine Becker, SM, who studied in the seminary with Father Brennan
and was his Atlanta superior when negotiations for the new Marist property were
being conducted, has a pastoral memory of the day he and his longtime friend
discovered the acreage that is now Marist School.
"We had been looking around for quite awhile for a nice piece of
property," said Father Becker, an archivist at the Marist provincial house
in Washington, D.C. There was "a much greater opportunity to grow,"
to increase the student body, if such a property was secured, he said.
"Driving along Ashford-Dunwoody Road one day we saw a nice, flat piece
of property along Nancy Creek," with a man hard at work mowing high,
overgrown grass, he said.
After a few strategic phone calls, he and Father Brennan went to see the
landowner, who "lived on top of a hill in a big house" and had
intimated that he might be interested in selling the property.
"We found out he used to give the John Deere Company permission to try
out their mowers" when his grass grew high, Father Becker remembered.
In the course of the conversation, their host stopped abruptly and asked
Father Brennan, "Do I detect a down-East accent?" said Father Becker.
When Father Brennan assented, the happy landowner said, "Likewise, I'm
from New England."
The rest is Atlanta history.
"We made a very nice deal," Father Becker said. "He
sold us the main part of the property and gave us seven extra acres as a tax
write-off."
Father Brennan, who became principal of Marist in 1953 and oversaw its new
construction and move to the suburbs, combines pride in the work and personal
modesty when he speaks of the school.
"It's a beautiful building. I can say it because people who did it did
it beautifully," he said, a shock of white hair falling across blue Irish
eyes that smile a welcome to an afternoon visitor.
He credits the accomplishment to the Lord he has followed in these many
years of priestly ministry.
"The reason I can talk about it is that I didn't do it," Father
Brennan said.
His friends, fellow priests and former students, however, are quick with
personal praise and admiration for this master builder and educator emeritus
who received the 1956 Notre Dame University "Man of the Year Award"
for his contributions to the field of education and service to the community at
large.
"This guy was a dynamo," said David Kulman, a self-employed
Atlanta businessman whose friendship with Father Brennan began when Kulman was
a Marist student and a mutual love of photography brought his family and Father
Brennan together.
"Marist School was partially designed on my parents' dining room
table," he said.
Quoting his grandfather, A.D. Greenfield, Kulman said, "If Father
Brennan had not gone into the priesthood, he could have been president of
General Motors."
Kulman, a retired Air Force colonel, said his Marist experience prepared him
for 39 years in the service.
"Father Brennan singlehandedly started the idea of having the
Air Force Junior ROTC" at Marist, he recalled. That meant the federal
government furnished uniforms and teaching aids, as well as conferring honor on
the school, he explained. "Working with Senator Dick Russell, he got the
first high school Air Force ROTC in the country."
For his efforts, Father Brennan was awarded the Air Force's first national
award for outstanding service.
Kulman said Father Brennan was "a dynamic teacher, a very strict
disciplinarian," with a finely tuned sense of humor he has grown to
appreciate over the years. He remembers Marist plays the priest coordinated and
even acted in if a student became ill. As prompter and stage manager to
Brennan's director, Kulman learned things that "followed me all the days
of my life," he said.
Father Brennan's master's degree in speech and drama, earned from Catholic
University prior to his ordination, gave a hint of the fire and flair to come.
"It came across in his homilies," said Mary Coffey, secretary at
Our Lady of Assumption Church in Atlanta, where Father Brennan was pastor from
1973-76.
"His projection and delivery, as well as the content, were captivating,
spellbinding when he gave a homily," she said.
Mrs. Coffey remembered Father Brennan as a "wonderful administrator,
but also a very pastoral type, too." Her family "still asks how
Father Brennan is doing."
These days, Father Brennan is doing well. At the age of 78, he finds life
quieter, but, looking out at the school that is so much a part of himself, he
is content.
The lessons Father Brennan taught were those that served his students well
in later years, David Kulman said. "He's a great human being."
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