MR. Z STUDENT TRIBUTES JAMES M. ZOLNOWSKI
“Mr. Z” May 21, 1947 July 19, 2020 Mr. Z, as he is affectionately known, has been a fixture at Chaminade for the past 41 years. From his office in the library, he held court, offering guidance to everyone who entered - from the newest sixth-grader, to faculty and staff with a question, to seasoned alums who dropped in to reminisce. Mr. Z knew them all and knew something particular about each one. Frequent questions to students included “what do good parents have?” and “what is tall, thin, and athletic?” With faculty, he often asked “can I push on you a bit” to help him push you in a particular direction. With alumni, he managed to keep up with educational progress, marriages, careers, and kids. When alums came back to Chaminade, Mr. Zolnowski was the one they wanted to see. As the school librarian, he kept the library open from sun up to sun down and every weekend. But to call him the school librarian is a disservice to all the other things he did around the school. Mr. Z was the most comfortable behind the scenes. Whether it was laboring as sacristan, decorating for his favorite holiday, or riding herd on Saturday detentions, his presence was felt throughout the school. He served as a dorm prefect, even dorm director for a time. In the classroom, he taught Latin, theology, accounting, and business. He wrangled the archives and kept track of things for posterity. Mr. Zolnowski will always be a part of the fabric of Chaminade. But there is a tear in the fabric, a hole in the cloth. Mr. Z made an indelible mark on Chaminade that cannot be replaced. His absence creates a void that cannot be filled. He will be sorely missed. Godspeed, Mr. Z. Dr. Dan Karcher, English Department Chair
STUDENT TRIBUTES
These tributes (and many others) were placed on the window of the Immaculate Conception Chapel under the coordination of the Class of 2018 in the days following Mr. Z's death. I was a frequent member of the Saturday detention 'Garden Club.' At the beginning of each Saturday morning detention, Bro. Eppy would round us up and take us towards the shed to begin 4 hours of manual labor. Just as we would get on the trailer that Eppy was towing with his tractor, Mr. Z would grab me and tell Eppy that he needed me to help him. Instead of cutting wood and digging holes in the heat, I got to move boxes in Frische Hall. Mr. Z would buy me a Dr. Pepper and give me donuts. One time he even paid me for serving a detention with him. I remember the first time I asked for his help as a sixth grader and he asked me to “step into his office.” I was deeply confused when he started walking away from his cluttered office. Only later did it become clear to me that the books and the students were his office. Mr. Z taught me, through repeated practice, to always have two feet on the ground while sitting in a chair. When I told him I got straight A's on my report card he said, “I would adopt you but I think your parents already did.” When I was in 7th grade, Mr. Z told me that if I was 21, he would have bought me a beer and a pizza to congratulate me for getting good grades. Unfortunately, I was still a year away from being able to take him up on his offer the day he passed away. Mr. Z would always ask me: “What do great
12 | Esto Vir Magazine, Fall 2020
