If you were a public school kid in Bangor in the 1960s, you certainly realized the summary difference between attending Bangor High School and going to school at John Bapst.

A key figure in the Bapst educational and sports proceedings back then died Nov. 11, and the stories of classy teacher and coach Ron Geagan will live on for years.

Back in those days, Bapst was a parochial school, and those of us who attended Bangor High knew the inherent restrictions placed on those who attended John Bapst.

The clear differences between the public school and the private school manifested themselves in such areas as dress code for the daily school routine and, of course, the Roman Catholic-based teachings for the day-to-day proceedings.

As a Bangor boy, I always admired those John Bapst guys. Heck, in this town, there was more than enough room for two Class LL teams – the large-school enrollment designation back then – and we were always a bit in awe of the happenings at the lower Broadway establishment.

The large stone structure was a landmark for Bangor kids. It even had yellow, metal, Civil Defense signs, indicating to all who passed by that the building could withstand a nuclear holocaust.

Larger-than-life coaching personalities roamed the sidelines of the gyms and the playing fields for the Catholic Crusaders back then.

Names like Ken Perrone, Ronnie Geagan, and Thaxter Trafton gave young Bangor boys cause to re-evaluate their own athletic futures relative to chances of ever playing on a varsity squad at their own outer-Broadway establishment.

The old Bangor High on Harlow Street next to the Bangor Public Library was closed in 1964, and the new high school opened in 1965. What a gem that place proved to be for the city, but down the road a piece, the Bapst building kept producing great sports teams.

That chilly tournament day in 1966 when the eighth-seeded John Bapst Crusaders knocked off highly touted No. 1 Stearns High of Millinocket still remains one of the greatest upsets in high school basketball history in our state.

Back in those days, the large-school tournament was a major television event, and TV sets everywhere were tuned in to witness the Minutemen of head coach George Wentworth fall – finally – breaking an 81-game Eastern Maine winning streak.

I was a freshman in high school at the time, just beginning to pay attention to coaches along the sideline as I pondered my own future years.

That game, the fiery Wentworth was up and moving, while the stoic Geagan was peacefully in place, watching the upset take place before him.

I mentioned the game once to Ronnie when I started writing columns, and he was fairly nondescript about his own role in the upset.

“The kids played well,” he told me, taking no credit for the win. “It was just one of those games – a typical upset. Everything fell into place for us.”

Indeed things did fall in place, but in typical Geagan-like fashion, he wished to remain out of the picture.

A number of years later, coach Geagan called me about something I had written. I called him “classy” in a basketball retrospective piece, and he told me how much he appreciated the sentiment.

“No one’s ever said that about me before, Coach,” he said quietly.

Well, a lot of people are saying that today, Ronnie. More than a lot, actually, and your legacy is, in fact, one of dignity and class.

My old pal Joe Floyd, a longtime Bapst teacher and coach who died last spring, used to say of Ron Geagan that he had a knack for getting the most out of his kids.

“He was tough,” Joe once told me, “but the kids would go through a wall for him.”

That, dear readers, is the greatest legacy a good coach could leave.

NEWS columnist Ron Brown, a retired high school basketball coach, can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net