Stories of military courage, sacrifice, struggle and loss have graced our pages from the beginning. We share three of them anew to mark Memorial Day 2015.
British-born Josephine Massyngbaerde Ford, a theology professor at Notre Dame from 1965 to 1998, was one of the school’s trail-blazing women. She died this past Saturday, May 16, at age 86.
Given the tumultuous history between the two countries, how would Haiti welcome the first official visit by a President of France?
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 77th strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Campus is growing and growing.
“Everyone loves a royal romance,” Nicholas, the prince of Wales and Great Britain’s future king, tells his girlfriend, American Bex Porter, in The Royal We, a novel that imagines a life lived once one’s prince has come.
Rejection, self-incrimination, sidelong glances, collectibles. It’s just another ride on the Molarity time machine.
I found myself on a nine-hour flight with no television, no Internet and all my downloaded films mysteriously deleted from my e-reader. While wondering how I was going to pass the time, I remembered I had downloaded Still Alice, a book which has been on my to-read list for nearly a decade.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 75th strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. A little Gospel gossip…
I am no Houdini. A warm terror jolts through all of my limbs. Why did I agree to this?
A few months ago, I was invited on an all-expense paid trip out of the country for spring break. Sounds a bit exotic, doesn’t it? The Notre Dame chapter of Global Medical Brigades planned to take 34 students, five volunteer doctors, one dentist and a dental hygienist to Nicaragua to provide basic health care.
So I’m talking to this other guy who writes. And we’re lamenting this and that, commiserating, comparing notes, talking the trade — group therapy for two. He asks if I’ve read The War of Art, and I must look puzzled because he says the title is a play on the classic, The Art of War.
Katie Mullins ’14 unwittingly found herself on Taylor Swift’s Christmas list last fall after she lipsynced a bonus track from Swift’s 1989 album and posted the video clip to Tumblr. Soon after, the Alliance for Catholic Education teacher received a large parcel full of jewelry, snacks, a signed poster for Mullins’ third-grade classroom in Tucson and other gifts, each one wrapped by the singer with its own handwritten note. “I’ll never forget my 3rd grade teacher, and your students will never forget you,” the enclosed card read. “You didn’t choose an easy job, but you chose an important one.” . . .…
With the crack of 150 icy aluminum cans, the World’s Largest Shotgun is underway. No Guinness Book representatives are on hand. No one seems to mind.
Notre Dame alumni in the news.
When he was 22, Rourke O’Brien’s life plan was relatively straightforward. “I wanted to put on a suit and tie and make money,” he says. O’Brien ’78 was thrilled when he landed a job as a stockbroker in his hometown of Bellevue, Washington. He stayed in the world of finance for more than 20 years. Then came 2001. The stock market crashed. Terrorists attacked the United States. And O’Brien agonized over the meaning of his life.
Even Rachel Ourada ’05 sounds a bit surprised by what she does for a living. “I make fabric buttons,” she says. “This is a real career.” The jewelry artist, who turns those buttons into earrings, necklaces, rings, hairpins and cufflinks, is not being defensive, however. She’s just pleased that she created a successful business out of something she started doing for fun.
Creative works by Notre Dame people
The Molarity crew is getting a little larger. And a little more aquatic.
Years before Guardians of the Galaxy unexpectedly charmed its way across the silver screen — before the movie made $774 million, the biggest film of last summer, starring a gun-toting raccoon and a talking tree named Groot — the galaxy’s unlikeliest heroes first entered the imagination of an editor at Marvel Comics named Bill Rosemann.
One from the line, two in the lane and three from the arc. It’s basketball, only from a very different point of view.
It’s after midnight, which means it’s my birthday. But the only sign of revelry here is that I drank all the available Guinness in my parents’ basement. I didn’t plan it that way. It’s just what happened while I was demonstrating — to no one in particular (actually to no one at all) — that I am the greatest billiard player in my family. Or, at least, the greatest billiard player who doesn’t have a brain tumor.
Letters to the editor about the Winter 2014-15 issue
What will tomorrow’s Notre Dame education look like?
Fifteen-year-old Sarah Brenzel lay awake on an operating room table as doctors slowly slid a catheter through an incision in her groin, up her femoral artery, through her aorta and, finally, up into the arteries in her brain. She started to shake. The doctor quickly reminded her that one wrong movement could puncture a vessel and cause a stroke or death. She lay still once more.
Like a child eagerly awaiting Christmas, Francis Wallace, Class of 1923 and the father of college football’s annual “Pigskin Preview,” was anticipating the release of a magazine carrying his most recent installment in that series. When he saw the issue, it was not the gift he was expecting.
In a presidential debate with a sitting vice president, a candidate from the other party distanced himself from the activist foreign policy of the previous administration in favor of a more restrained approach to the world. “I don’t think our troops ought to be used for what’s called nation-building,” he declared. The candidate also warned that America’s overwhelming power was both a blessing and a curse. As he explained, “Our nation stands alone right now in the world in terms of power, and that’s why we have to be humble.”
Legend has it that Ernest Hemingway won a bet that he could create a novel in six words by writing the following on a napkin: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Those six words suggest a tragic story of loss, with perhaps a bitter attempt to forget. My wife and I have unworn baby shoes that tell a different story.
Meet Fred, Notre Dame’s first service dog for mental illness. Catch up with a Chinese student who shares what he misses about his hometown. Hear a campus employee’s thoughts on fatherhood.
Thirty seconds of sincere prayer is all I need to grow a crush on a completely random guy.
Had I lived around 1143 A.D., my name might be: Ken Walker or, better, Ken, walker. My son might be: Michael, son of Walker, or Michael Walkerson. Since I was a teen I have walked a lot, usually solitary rambles outdoors. When in the country, I hike trails in the woods or along no trails at all; I let curiosity lead me.