Ah yes, the priests that smoked and drank - reminds me of our parish priest when he came to dinner on occasion to our house. Father Watchel (RIP). He was quite the character. He was instrumental in building a new Catholic Church in our town and also for bringing a Catholic School to our town as well.
One time he was a substitute teacher for our Religious class - our regular teacher was sick (or something). Anyway, we had to memorize the poem "The Grapes of Wrath" and had to be able to recite it when called upon during class. I tried and tried to memorize that damn thing and just couldn't seem to get it all together. One day in class, he called upon one of the guys - this kid was always causing trouble (a regular JD). You just KNEW he wouldn't know the poem and, he didn't fail us - he hadn't memorized it at all. Father took a book and just slamed it on this dudes desk and yelled at him. I almost had a heart attack. I went home that day and did nothing but try to succeed in memorizing that bloodly poem. I was never called on thank heavens. Don't recall it now (you'd think I would after all the time I spent in trying to memorize it). I was happy to see our regular teacher back, fer sure!! All I know is that I didn't want Father getting mad at me for not doing my homework and I was petrified that id he called on me to recite it I'd be completely humiliated.
That was the only time that I ever saw him upset, but that was enough for me! Funny how that still sticks in my mind.