He Lived to Make a Difference I first met Ted as Brother Theodore Benton, C.S.C. at Archbishop Curley High School in Miami, Florida where I grew up, attended school and was blessed to have him as a teacher and later a friend. He had been transferred by his order from New Orleans, La. where he had his first contact with high school wrestling. There at Holy Cross High School on the banks of the Mississippi River he always said he had the good fortune to teach with the school’s renowned wrestling coach Brother Melchior and learn from a legend. I suppose he also taught English but I don’t remember him ever talking about that. In my junior year (’67-’68) there was an announcement at our all boys Catholic school that there would be a meeting after school for students interested in starting a wrestling team. I attended and was pleased to hear that I didn’t need to be physically large, a feature which prevented me from joining my classmates playing football or basketball. He announced there was a place for every student of every size as long as we could keep up our grades and that practice would begin in a month or so with the principal’s and A.D.’s approval. After a satisfactory student turn out the principal agreed to fund the team. That however was more a euphemism as we had to purchase our own uniforms and Ted had to scrounge to find some tumbling mats that he covered with a large orange tarp (school color!). Pre-season practice actually began before the pile of 4’ x 8’ canvas covered sweat soaked mats got to campus. Oh, did I mention the school had no gym? On that first day his future ‘team’ assembled with our new ‘Coach’, whom we never called ‘Coach’ just ‘Brother Theodore’. We met under the covered patio between the school and the cafeteria. Most of us dressed in sweats but some who didn’t have them dressed in shorts only to regret it later. He told us we were going to find the grassiest part of the campus and commence our practices there until a better solution could be found…grass burns hurt just like rug burns. Now this was sunny Miami so the fact that it was the beginning of winter was hardly noticed. He worked our butts off, an ethic acquired from the great Brother Melchior who we never met yet we learned to despise. Our schools first ever wrestling season sported 8 losses capped off by one win. At every away match we saw how the ‘other half’ lived. The opponents all had Resolite mats with the school’s logo in the center and were inside of great gyms with lots of seating. We on the other hand had to stay after school, move aside tables and chairs in the cafeteria, fold and store the tables, reposition the folding chairs and tightly lace together our ‘fragrant’ mats and secure the tarp over them. It didn’t look like much but it did smell like a gym…much to the dismay of the cafeteria staff. But Brother Theodore kept us practicing fundamentals and kept telling us we were improving with every meet. We all loved our newfound sport and we left that year dreaming about next year. The next schoolyear we were so anxious for the season to arrive so we could begin our drive toward the goal of a much better season record. Then a bomb dropped …and the concussion nearly leveled our hopes. They were sending Brother Theodore to the missions in Brazil! It was inescapable we were told for he was bound by the directive from his superiors and by obedience to the Church. Years before he had asked for the opportunity to serve God in the missions but had no idea when this gift would become reality. I think the timing of the call was as much a shock to him as to us. After a discussion with the principal he told us with no coach there could be no team and no season. About 25-30 eager teen boys who were about to show their classmates and other opponents that we could compete with the best of them were about to have to swallow the proverbial “bitter pill.” Ted tried hard to help us deal with reality and the bitterness we felt, but you know what, that’s what made him so great…he loved us. He employed his sometimes strange sense of humor to treat our bashed and bruised feelings and I (we) will never forget him for that. He made us realize that we had the potential to be so much better…and then he left. But the story of his impact on our lives wasn’t over. At our school a newly hired football and track coach was rumored to have wrestling experience. There was a glimmer of hope. He had never coached wrestling but had high school and college experience. Those above rearranged his coaching assignments and miraculously we had a coach and we had our new season. He was able to build on what Ted had taught and the discipline he instilled in us and that second year was indeed better. In large part, thanks to Ted’s foundation, three of our team members became individual State Champions and our record now contained only one loss. I know that from a continent away he was proud of what he had begun for us. And there’s more I have to thank him for… Brother Theodore was my favorite teacher and he became a huge influence in my life. I saw in him and the other Brothers something in their joy and selflessness that I wanted to be part of. At the end of my senior year I had decided that I wanted to join the Religious Order he belonged to and I sought his advice about this decision...he, literally, was my guide and role model. He gave so freely to us young men and many of us were influenced by his love of teaching and stories of his growing up in South Carolina. I went on to also become a teacher and join the Congregation of Holy Cross. I could not have had a better start to my adult life. Through Ted’s influence on my vocation I found a closer relationship with my Lord, an appreciation for the Love God made us with, and how to share that Love with others. In my newly begun adult life he had helped me discover the confidence that comes from taking on and besting every other 135 pound wrestler in the state of Florida to win one of those individual State Championships. Once, years later, I visited Ted on a vacation swing through New England and that’s when I met Joanne. She was easy to get to know because I’ve been a lifelong high school teacher and we ‘spoke the same language.’ That brief visit was such a joy for me, I was back with my mentor if only for a few days. In 2018 I sent to them my annual Christmas card but got no response and chalked it up to the sometimes-we-all-get-busy syndrome. This past Christmas I tried and my card bounced back indicating there was no forwarding address and I began to fear that they had moved and I might not be able to find their new address. I went to the internet and found the news of their deaths in this obituary and in hers. I know my message or story arrived late and I hope that someone in the family may find it someday. My high school class is having its 55th anniversary reunion this year and I will tell them about Ted and Joanne’s passing. When the class convenes they will start with a Mass praying for and remembering Ted and the other fine teachers we were blessed with. You may see other additions to this site in the future but even if you don’t I wanted you to know how much he meant to one of his former students. I will pray for the repose of his soul and hers and thank God for him in my life. God bless you all, Fred Laubenthal 1737 County Road 109 Hutto, TX 78634 flaub77@gmail.com