Mr. Brenes and his brothers — like him, All Hallows alums — worked as janitors in the mornings before school to help defray costs. After graduating, he taught there for 18 years before becoming admissions director. For Mr. Brenes, the worst moment after the closure was when a group from a charter school toured the building unannounced and took measurements. “The body isn’t even cold,” he said.
There are currently 325 students at All Hallows. Since it opened up to girls, applications soared to 400 this year, from 243 last year. The girls added new energy and introduced new customs, like decorating the lockers of fellow students on their birthdays.
Daniel Pimentel, the 11th grader who welcomed Bridget and Mona, loved the new vibe the girls brought, which made the announcement of closure even harder to bear. That night, he said, he sat nearly motionless in his family’s Bronx apartment and could not even bring himself to attend school the next day.
“The girls found a home,” he said, “and now it’s happened again.”
The mood now is subdued, Mona said, and some students have already transferred. For those who can afford it, Catholic school is still the hope, provided they can find one that will accept their All Hallows scholarships. About half are expected to switch to public school.
Mona, who wants to attend Columbia University and eventually become a neurosurgeon, was recently accepted at Cathedral, a Catholic school for girls in Manhattan. She is relieved, but is sad to leave All Hallows and her new friends.
Bridget, who wants to pursue criminal justice, is headed to a public high school. But she was told she won’t know which one until August.
