Mike Rohweder

 Mike Rohweder presents me with a gift, a 65-year-old piece of pock-marked wood.

Mike Rohweder

Last summer, the GICC original office counter is removed and replaced by a sleeker, attractive and far more functional space. From the depths of the original counter, however, construction workers pry out a 2 x 12 rough piece of wood board. Scrawled across the top of it are hand-written words in ordinary blue ink: 

Erwin Mich. and Chas Lempha. Sept - 17 - 56

At least that's what we think it says.

Mike and I handle the splintery block as reverently as if it's the Hope Diamond.

"You keep it here in your classroom," he says with feeling.

I protest. "Oh no, Mike, you should keep it in your office."

But he shakes his head. "You keep it. I have plenty of mementos," he assures me.

It's true. Nobody on God's green earth is as nostalgic as Mike Rohweder, Central Catholic's business manager for the last 18 years. As the school is periodically renovated, Mike snatches objects deemed too ancient to be useful. In the corner of his office is the old office intercom system complete with the original microphone Sisters Sue and Mary Leo used to make daily announcements or to nag Mr. Northup.

"Fred!" Sister Sue called frequently. "You left your false tooth in the faculty lounge! Again!"

The old GICC sound system
along with other relics of the 
past

Mike's office is a mini-museum, and as past alumni visit and revel in the old trophies, book covers, and team pictures, they also contribute to Mike's collection. The Fagan family gifts Mike with Bob Fagan's (class of '41) letter sweater from the old St. Mary's High School. Carol Kittridge and Chris Jarecke donate their cheerleading megaphones. Mike even has Pat Kayl's old Booster Club neck tie.

"It's the one he wore every night he popped corn in the lobby," Mike says.

Every object is a treasure to Mike and to the hundreds of alumni who traipse in and out of his office year after year.

"I'm the Ghost of Central Catholic Past", Mike laughs. In fact, his real mission - besides keeping the school financially afloat - is to remind people of Central Catholic's roots. 

"The past is where I'm at," he says. 

It's such a poetic statement from my former Central Catholic English student that I decide to ignore the preposition at the end.

Mike's 7th grade P.E shirt

I've watched Mike grow up, have taught his siblings and cousins and children, and have loved his parents - Norm and Sue - for nearly 45 years. After Norm died, I even named our feisty black kitten after him. The Rohweders were and continue to be one of Central's most beloved families. Stories about them are legion. Everybody knows how Mike's mom, when she was just a young woman barely in her 20's, lost her parents in a terrible car crash. At the time, Sue Rock had three younger sisters all in school. Aunts and uncles and even teachers offered to take in one or two of the girls. But Norm Rohweder, Sue's wonderful boyfriend, stepped in to keep the family together.

"We'll get married right away," he assured Sue. "We'll buy a house and raise your little sisters like our own."

They raised not only Sue's sisters Sharon, Rosie and Jean but also their own four children: Todd, Laurie, Mike and Monica.

It was in this loving and extended family environment, which would eventually include another generation of cousins, that Mike grew up. In his parents' white clapboard home on First Street, Mike was a St. Mary's altar boy like his father before him, made life-long friends with his Wasmer and Central Catholic classmates, and walked many evenings all the way from his house to the old GICC gym to watch a basketball game. His fervent wish was to claim a seat on the bench behind Coach Fred Northup and to hope for a spectacular technical. 

When he was old enough to enroll in Central Catholic in the seventh grade, however, he remembers being terrified to enter the building. His older brother Todd told him stories about the wild class of 1978 and how small students were held over the second floor stairwell.

"I'm not going in," Mike declared the first day standing outside the GICC doors in his new Tough Skin jeans. Todd literally dragged Mike into the school. But Mike's fears were allayed. Hugh Brandon, the new principal, restored law and order.

1984 basketball team. Front row from left: Darren Miller,
Robbie White, Paul Stokman. Second row: Steve Was-
singer, Tony Wray, Jim Liske, Jon Bartek, Pat
Carey, Scott Micek. Back row: Asst. Coach Tom
Wetzel, Mike Vetick, Bob Kittridge, Gary Staab,
Mike Staab, Mike Knust, Paul Lewandowski,
Stuart Zastrow, Mike Rohweder, E.J. Gowlovech
and Head Coach Fred Northup - Fred's first team to
the state tourney since the 1967-68 team.

"I remember him in the cafeteria standing by the Dr. Pepper machine in his green suit jacket," Mike says. "He made me feel safe and changed my whole world."

Mike courageously overcame many of his fears. He was terrified of Sister Sue and Sister Mary Leo, who sometimes growled at students in the office as they purchased lunch tickets. They were actually, Mike eventually discovered, sweet old ladies determined to maintain law and order in the often chaotic main office. 

More than anything else in high school, Mike looked forward to playing basketball for Coach Fred Northup. In fact, Mike and fellow freshman Paul Stokman decided to forego football altogether and put all their efforts into basketball. Coach Northup himself wouldn't have it. If the two of them planned to have a career in basketball, he told them shortly, they'd better plan on running for his cross country team during the fall.

"Get your butts out theh!" Northup ordered in his famous Rhode Island accent.

Fun at the 1983 state volleyball tournament: Front row from
left: Kim Roggenkamp, Katie Hemmett, Jean Golka.
Second row: Greg Manley (from another school), Jimmy
Spanel. Third row: Shari Lewandowski, Paul Lew-
andowski, Robbie White, Mike Rohweder.
Fourth row: Joan Brayton, James Cannon, Dana Luton,
Tony Wray. Back: Pat Kayl, cheerleader Jodi Gilroy.
Very back: Barb Clark, GICC's most
well-known fan.

At least, Mike noted, he was pleased on his first day of practice to ride out to the country in the school's famous Weenie Wagon - the ancient Columbia blue, many-doored limo and the school's only mode of transportation. The Weenie Wagon was reputed to have dropped on a mechanic and killed him in a previous life which made it all the more alluring to the students it transported.

Also, Mike was in awe of veteran senior and famous state champ Steve Doran. Steve and talented runner Mark Jones were living legends as far as Mike was concerned. But on that first day of practice when Coach Northup left the intrepid runners off in the country and instructed them to run five miles back to the Weenie Wagon, Mike was stupefied. 

"Everybody went ahead of me," Mike remembers, "and there I was running inside tractor ruts in the same shoes I mowed the lawn in." Alone out in the sand hills with the sun sinking fast, Mike was sure he'd been entirely forgotten and would die alone out on the prairie.

"Then I saw this dark afro over the hill," Mike remembers. Underneath all that distinctive hair was Steve Doran's tall, skinny frame coming to the rescue. Mark Jones was just behind Steve. Together they kindly encouraged Mike to finish his run back to the Weenie Wagon.

"When I got back, everybody clapped like I was a hero in a movie," Mike laughs. Still, he would never forget how kind Steve and Mark were to a lowly freshman on his first day of cross country. 

Rohweder family from left: John, Sheila
Kathryn and Mike

After Mike graduated in 1984, he attended Hastings College but eventually landed at Creighton University with his good buddy Jon Bartek. Although he earned a degree in business finance and made a good living in Omaha, he realized selling investments wasn't in his DNA. After he married the love of his life, Sheila Heithoff, and welcomed son John and daughter Kathryn into the world, Mike knew all he wanted for his children was the freedom to ride their five speed Schwinn bikes any where they wanted back in Grand Island. He was delighted to accept the role of business manager at Central Catholic and to know his kids would go to school at GICC.

Mike's son John graduated from Central Catholic in 2015 followed by daughter Kathryn in 2019. John was a talented tennis and basketball player while Kathryn was part of a GICC multi-state championship dance team. Both Rohweder children continued their educations at Hastings College like their parents before them. But their Central Catholic education was at the root of his children's success, Mike insists now, and it was a dream come true to watch John and Kathryn grow up at GICC.

Mike and son John

"I loved watching my kids go to school here, and I've loved working with parents who send their own kids here - the single moms, the hardworking folks who come in with hundred dollar bills they've saved to pay tuition." He shakes his head. "I've cried some tears with people when times were tough."

It reminds him, he says. of the days long ago when Central Catholic parents with ten kids would do anything to make sure their children could attend GICC. His own parents, like mine and so many others, made significant sacrifices to have their kids educated at Central Catholic, and Mike doesn't view his job lightly. He frets over school finances like a dog over a bone. If it occurs to him he could be making scads more money working with potential investors in a quiet, carpeted upscale institution, he never says so. Even the worry of keeping GICC in the red is worth it all. He recalls the times the school faced lean times, and he didn't know if they could even make payroll. 

"But every time we needed 20,000 dollars," he says, "it would somehow come." He's sure those miraculous donations continue to be the work of the Holy Spirit and that God intends for Central Catholic to be around for future generations. Still, he never takes his job for granted.

Mike and daughter
Kathryn at the End of 
the Road World Tour 
KISS concert

"I like this role of caretaker. I'm trying to protect Central's humble beginnings and to remind people how lucky we are to have this school."

Mike Rohweder is a happy man. He credits his beautiful wife Sheila for that. 

"If devotion to one's faith had a face, it would be the face of Sheila Heithoff," he says. He and Sheila, the sister of Father Jim Heithoff, met at Hastings College. Raised in a strong Catholic family, Sheila still trusts her family to God and prays for them always. 

"What she's asked God to do for me has kept me balanced in all aspects," Mike says. The best part of his day is going home for lunch. "As soon as I enter the door, I hear her loving greeting before I even lay eyes on her."

He's a sentimental sap all right. But if ever a man was exactly where he's supposed to be, it's Mike Rohweder. Living only a block from where he grew up, Mike loves the tree-lined streets of his joyful youth. He helps out his widowed mother Sue, enjoys his wonderful family, and works every day at a job he loves and thoroughly believes in.

He's still our boy, and nobody bleeds bluer.