Lifelong friends in spite of themselves
Culture? Religion? Holiday tradition? College friends diminish their differences and hold each other dear
By Patricia Quigley ’78, M’03

 ach Christmas Eve, the small South Jersey house in which I was raised turns into a Cassell.


Actually, the house remains a mid-1950s split level. It just fills with Cassells. And Schwartz-Cassells. And Conrads. And sometimes even their friends.

There are others as well, most notably my aunt and cousins from my father’s side of the family. But for close to 30 years, since the Christmas after we graduated in 1978 from then-Glassboro State College, my friend Tobi Schwartz-Cassell and her family have been mainstays at my extended family’s Christmas Eve celebration.

That might not seem too unusual, I suppose, but for one thing: my family is Irish-Italian-Catholic and Tobi’s is Jewish.

I’m not sure Tobi or I would have forecast such a long friendship when we met in Kathy Stevens’ magazine writing class. Tobi was focused on RTF, I on journalism. She was a WGLS disc jockey, with all the work and fun that entailed coloring her academic and social life. I spent my college days devoted to studying, writing for a small weekly newspaper and missing my then- and later ex-boyfriend at college in North Jersey.

When Tobi and I finally got acquainted working on a class project, both of us were afraid the other would be too quiet and boring. We wound up talking—if not for hours—long enough to realize we were alike in important ways, “good” girls from tight-knit families who were far from introverts.

And though we both came from families that respected those of other faiths, through our friendship, we learned more about each other’s beliefs and traditions, about people whose life experiences had differed from our own. We joked, “Italian and Jewish grandmothers are the same people.” We chatted on plastic-slip-covered furniture in each other’s living rooms, though Tobi’s house boasted a statue of Moses holding the Ten Commandments and mine had crucifixes on the walls.

We’ve shared a lot since our undergraduate days, some wonderful events, like being together when she met her husband and me serving as a bridesmaid in her wedding and godmother to her firstborn; some heartbreaking, like the loss of her parents and my grandmother.

More than half a lifetime later, we still visit until close to midnight on Christmas Eve, stuffed with meatballs or vegetarian fare, crowding the rec room, ripping off wrapping paper, burrowing through Christmas stockings, oohing and ahhing over gifts.

Some years we have mixed Hanukkah blue and white with Christmas red and green. For many years, Tobi and her husband, Stan, and I have donated to each other’s favorite charities in lieu of presents. Since 1978, several of us have exchanged Christmas ornaments. And even before we get to December 24, Tobi is part of holiday preparations, traipsing from Cherry Hill to help put up the Christmas tree.

And so this holiday season, Tobi’s clan and mine will be together on Christmas Eve. Christmas does not have the same meaning for our families, of course. Gathering with loved ones, while an absolute delight, always will be second for me to celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. But my family and friends, including Tobi, Stan, Richard, Jardin, Molly Lou, Martin, Michael and Phyllis—observant Jews all—are blessings who always have been, and I trust always will be, among the greatest gifts I could ask for on one of the most glorious days of the year.

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Patricia Quigley ’78, M’03 is an assistant director of media and public relations at Rowan and a former journalist. She lives in Mantua and celebrates Christmas in various Gloucester County locations.