Last Sunday morning, like so many devout Notre Dame football fans, I read with sadness that Johnny Lattner had passed away. My reaction to the news surprised me, because my feelings about Lattner’s death had nothing to do with football — which said everything about him as a person.
Haiti has no president. Former President Michel Martelly finished his five-year term on February 7 and stepped down without an elected successor.
A story from the opening pages of Grevel Lindop’s Charles Williams: The Third Inkling reveals a startling but puzzling truth. Charles Williams, in spite of being called “One of the most gifted and intellectual Christian writers England has produced this [the 20th] century” by Time magazine, has always walked in the shadow of his two famous friends, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.
New dorms, road trips, short courses, whatever — the lesson is the same: Always look on the bright side of life.
In April, as Notre Dame’s associate vice president of undergraduate enrollment, I attended an admitted-students reception in New York City. It was a lovely, blue-sky day, and we stood on a rooftop deck overlooking the Metropolitan Museum of Art. On a rooftop deck across the street, we could see a Stanford gathering for admitted students. At both parties, parents and students seemed almost buoyant — balancing pride in the fact of admission to a chosen college with relief.
Andrew McShane rounded the corner in front of the altar of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart and sized up the cacophony in the choir loft: Drills wheezing. Socket wrenches clicking. Wisecracks flying. Workmen calling down from vanishing tiers of organ pipes that still rose three and four stories above the church floor.
Battling infertility changes a person, writes Kate Zinsmeister Harvey ’10. Her reflection was awarded an honorable mention in this magazine’s 2015 Young Alumni Essay contest.
South Bend Code School aims to eliminate barriers between people and technology.
Sometimes it’s better not to know what you’re getting yourself into, says Brenna Decker ‘10, whose essay received honorable mention in this magazine’s 2015 Young Alumni Essay Contest.
Happiness, or at least the word, was everywhere as 2016 approached — echoing in holiday conversations and in the worldwide shouts of “Happy New Year!” late on Dec. 31. Faced with the emptiness and angst I sensed in much of that happy talk, I’ve confirmed my new year’s resolution: Either it’s time to drop all this fake, escapist merriment . . . or it’s time to get really serious about happiness.
Welcome to the 100th strip in Molarity Redux, the continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. So, what part of “’til death do us part” did you not understand?
“Where are you from?” is a question that frequently stumps Marisa Iati, whose article was awarded an honorable mention in this magazine’s 2015 Young Alumni Essay contest.
I stood outside Main Building just before midnight this past Sunday, shivering in the frigid snow, waiting for my candle to be lit. A classmate shared a light; I hurried through the door. A huge gust of below-freezing wind immediately blew out the flame.
The Ghetto Biennale is a biannual street art festival in Port-au-Prince that attracts artists, craftspeople and musicians from all over the world. Wending our way down the tiny, irregular alleys, an overwhelming sensation of welcome and warmth emanates from the shacks and workshops.
Father Joe Corpora, CSC, has been named a Missionary of Mercy by Pope Francis and will travel to Rome on Ash Wednesday this year to formally receive this commission to be a “living sign” of God’s forgiveness. In 2010, he wrote this essay for Notre Dame Magazine about spending Holy Week in the remote Mexican village of Tequepexpan, a place full of unexpected trouble and grace.
Ever since Pope Francis opened the Jubilee Year of Mercy last month I keep coming back to this experience.
Sara Felsenstein recalls her grandmother in this article, which was awarded an honorable mention in Notre Dame Magazine’s 2015 Young Alumni Essay Contest.
Reading Go Set a Watchman forces a reconsideration of To Kill a Mockingbird. Not of its literary value but of the qualities that we, like Scout, projected onto Atticus beyond what his actions warranted.
November, 1980: When the Lord’s ways were at their most mysterious.
It was a time of celebration, theatrics were in order, the mood was indeed festive. Shakespeare was in the air
Notre Dame graduates in the news
Creative works by Notre Dame graduates, professors and friends.
Deaths of Notre Dame alumni
Letters to the editor
When Joseph Cashore ’71 came back to Notre Dame to perform his marionette show at reunion festivities, his classmate Tim DiPiero took a pass. DiPiero jokes that the choice between going to see a “puppet show” or hanging out in the beer tent with his buddies wasn’t a difficult decision. But he heard friends who did go rave about it later, so he was determined to see the show at the next reunion. DiPiero, like many who see Cashore’s shows, says he was “blown away.”
Lifting a panel of romaine lettuce, Jan Pilarski ’79, ’96M.A., exposes a tangle of plump roots. Over a year’s time, her social enterprise business, Green Bridge Growers, can produce several hundred pounds of organic vegetables and herbs. The entrepreneurial venture Pilarski began with her son Chris Tidmarsh is an aquaponic farming operation that provides training and jobs for young adults on the autism spectrum.
Graduates from the class of 2010 won first and second place in the magazine’s third annual Young Alumni Essay Contest.
Notre Dame has reversed a long-standing policy against manufacturing licensed products in China, where the law prohibits free association for workers. University President Rev. John I. Jenkins, CSC, ’76 announced the decision in an October letter to the campus community.
Acting on the recommendation of a Worker Participation Committee made up of students, faculty and administrators, Jenkins instituted a pilot program with selected Chinese factories “to see if they can meet and sustain worker treatment standards in keeping with Catholic social teaching.”…
I once worked with a guy who claimed to be a male witch. A warlock. His name was Stephen. You never called him Steve. This is at Staples, back in my college days. Stephen staffs the copy center and the computer aisle. Those are his domains, and he rules them as if he’s the wise man on the mountaintop, imparting wisdom to customers asking questions about toner cartridges and paper weight.