CANON LEO VINCENT TWINEY (1904-10; Staff: 1916-22)
His voice is the first thing one remembers - a deep, reverberating boom that rang easily through house, church or Town Hall -'sicut leo in silva' - a phrase he loved to intone basso profundo. Then the strong, manly figure; the sternness of his straight mouth belied by the warmth of deep brown eyes: a firm handshake, a quick joke and a laugh like a thunderclap.
It was a bit overpowering at first, and there were some who never recovered and thought him loud, hard and rough. They were wrong. His outward bluster covered an inner shyness, a deep reserve and great kindliness. He was essentially simple, straightforward, rather limited in range perhaps, but with an iron sense of duty combined with a rich zest for life which made him uproarious fun in the right company.
lie came as a boy to Cotton in 1904 when life was hard and boys, he used to say, 'had to learn to be men'. lie had a deep love for Cotton, its traditions and its countryside, all his life. Ile then studied at Oscott under Mgr Parkinson who left a lasting impression on his character, reflected in a manly piety and good grasp of fundamentals. He enjoyed Oscott, managing his studies easily enough, letting rip in the Schola and throwing himself wholeheartedly into games and companionship.
On ordination in 1916, he came to Cotton for six years
as Prefect of Discipline. He was a hard disciplinarian and those under his regime viewed him with mixed feelings. Ile had a sure aim for 'the seat of understanding' and few escaped his fierce growl of threatening to 'tan you to ribbons'. His bark, however, was worse than his bite and he set a high standard of manliness by his own pride in the School.
From Cotton he went to hanley as Curate to Canon
O'Rorke whom he described as 'made of teak' - a man after his own heart. After a short stay at Southam, he was back in the Potteries again as Parish Priest of Stoke-on-Trent where he stayed for the rest of his life. Ile was made Rural Dean in 1934, Canon in 1937 and celebrated his Golden Jubilee in 1966.
lie seemed made for the Potteries and their people with their blunt honesty, homely friendliness and canny common sense. Once you made the initial break-through, he was easy to live with and life was anything but dull. He could explode quite luridly at times and would occasionally bite, but he left no sting. There was something in him that drew all one's loyalty - an essential manliness with a warm understanding and simplicity of heart. Oddly enough, he never berated his congregation, but was full of praise when they had done well. When one of his curates had a severe stroke, no man on earth could have shown more kindliness or have (lone more to get him well again. It gave him great joy on his Silver Jubilee when every single one of his past curates - and they were many and varied - turned up for a boisterous lunch round the Presbytery table.
He was always most punctual, never a second late in all his years at the Convent early Mass. At almost every hour of the day you knew where he was and what he would be doing: early Mass, Breviary, a visit to the school, a drink before lunch at the club, a nap in his
DR HERMANN VON ZEISSL (Staff: 1942-45)
Dr Hermann von Zeissl was born in Vienna in 11335, the son of a well-known dermatologist and Professor at the Medical Faculty of Vienna University. lie was educated at the Benedictine school in Vienna. This school was called the 'Schotten-Gymnasium' after the Celtic ('Scots') monks who founded the monastery and Christianised the Danube Valley.
He studied Law at Vienna and Munich Universities. As a student, he was a keen rock-climber, and on one of his climbing expeditions he met Arnold Lunn. Ile graduated in 1913 and entered the Civil Service, his first posting being to the Police Administration. As a police officer, he was among those responsible for security arrangements during the funeral of the Emperor Franz Josef. He never forgot the terrible weight of this responsibility (luring the War. The occasion brought to Vienna the Heads of State who were at war with one another, and the smallest incident would have had highly dangerous results
He was later posted to the Central Office for Statistics, and in 1920 went to the Ministry of Education where he worked in the department for university affairs. He was head of this department at the time of the annexation of Austria by Hitler. It was his department which had borne the brunt of the endeavour to stem the tide of growing
chair till three; a wash, Matins and Lauds, a committee or some practical business: a final drink at the club in the evening, a game of snooker (he hated being beaten): then rosary, the day's accounts, night prayers and bed at eleven. He lived very simply and was always well turned out. He read very little, but was full of practical sense and gave solid and sound instructions at Mass. After the death of his mother, whom lie deeply revered, he could rarely be persuaded to take a holiday. It is doubtful whether he ever went farther than Blackpool or Reading all his life, but he loved a day in the country round about, or a visit to Cotton and the Valley.
For many years lie was a highly respected and influential member of the Education Committee, and many Catholic schools in the Potteries owe their existence to his foresight and planning. He took a keen interest in St Dominic's High School for Girls and was instrumental in founding St Joseph's College for Boys which has done so much for education in the neighbourhood.
In his last years, the result of a bad fall confined him mainly to the house and, with little outlet for his energy and practical abilities, he found it hard to adapt himself. After his Golden Jubilee, he finally admitted defeat and retired to Aston Hall where once again he livened up the place considerably till his last short illness in September 1968.
lie will be remembered with lasting affection by those who really got to know him: a thoroughly sound and practical priest of the old school: simple, loyal, lively, colourful, warm-hearted, outspoken, very human, and great fun to live with. No doubt he is now taking full part in the heavenly choir with renewed zest, provided that they don't pitch too high a note, in his own words, 'like a lot of so and so castrati'.
He was good to know. May he rest in peace.
T S Copsey
2