One month before my three-week summer study abroad with Notre Dame’s inaugural creative writing class in Ireland, I was admitted to the hospital for mononucleosis, viral meningitis and encephalitis. I barely remember the week I spent in that bed, too nauseous to eat and being awakened for blood samples every time I managed to fall asleep.…
Lettters to the editor
In a world where so much of what we know and how we live is fleeting and ephemeral, it’s comforting to know that our natural waterways are secure in who and what they are. A corporate brand may change to suit the times or the strategy of the month or new leadership, but a creek or stream or river just does what it does, and it doesn’t care what you or I think about it.
How do you write about a memory that you have willed with every fiber of your body into blackness, into the furthest recesses of your mind, where only you and it live in the silent dark? I tried for years not to write this, I did everything except put these words on paper. How do you start an essay like this? Here is how: When I was 16 years old I was drugged and raped while I fought in and out of consciousness.
One time I was at a school near Melbourne, Australia. The school was on the farthest-flung outskirts of the city, and I had noticed the buildings grow sparser and the bush more pronounced as we drove north. My host named the trees for me: ironbark, gum, fig, wattle, beech. I saw two kangaroos, the first two I had ever seen.
My wife and I went to virtually every soccer game, track and gymnastics meet, dance recital, spelling bee, school play — you name it — through a total of 36 years of grade school and high school. We said “good job” whether or not it was true, as did all of the parents who faithfully showed up at each event. We did not reserve our praise only for the praiseworthy.
Notre Dame graduates in the news
Deaths of Notre Dame graduates
Seventy years ago this fall, a college football dynasty began that stands as one of the best ever. Andy Panelli ’77, ’83MBA would consider the qualifier superfluous. To Panelli, the son of postwar fullback John “Pep” Panelli ’49, the 1946 and 1947 Notre Dame teams remain unmatched in the history of college football.
A mix of entertainment and education to tell the story of slavery in America and the anti-slavery efforts of whites and blacks is the foundation of the Ray of Hope Project, launched by Alika Hope Bryan ’99 and Ray Morant in 2013.
It started with a broken heart. The broken heart led to wallowing in sad country songs. The sad country songs led Zach DuBois ’11 to write one of his own. And his sad song eventually led to music videos, a record label, opening gigs for country music stars, time on Country Music Television (CMT) and a top hit.
Creative works by Notre Dame people
“You’re a poopy head,” some say in tweets and Internet comments. OK, the foul tirades go beyond the language a 5-year-old might use, but the messages are a match in eloquence. The malicious invectives spewing forth online these days make me long for the era when contempt had some class.
Come all ye rolling minstrels and attend the ballad of the Flying V . . . in which Morrison Schwartzer, All American, finds his zenith.