One of Notre Dame's most distinguished alumni speaks of his lifetime of learning and writing — what he found here and later finding what was missing.
Notre Dame philosopher Alvin Plantinga, whose influential arguments for the existence of God helped redefine the academic debate on the subject, has been named the recipient of the 2017 Templeton Prize.
A conversation between friends whose work has been examining the place of religion in America highlights some changes in the cultural landscape.
Many cockroaches were harmed in the making of Andy Greco’s college education. He killed 60 of them one night in a massacre that Greco ’81 assumes must still be commemorated in the cockroach community.
While there’s something undeniably amusing about an 80-year-old sweet, gentle lady letting loose with a string of expletives, it was a symptom of something unfunny — the decline of her health, her cognitive abilities, her will — her self.
My love of the water began at an early age. In my baby book, my mom shares her account of my baptism, noting: “Gina did not cry as the water was poured over her head; in fact, she liked it!”
Growing up in northern California, I spend summer days splashing around the pool at the YMCA, stalking the teenage lifeguards who look impossibly cool in their red swimsuits. When I am 6 years old, my dad oversees the installation of an L-shaped pool in our backyard. It looks like something out of The Flintstones…
In the summer of my 10th year there were rumors of an unidentified creature moving among deer herds between the Severn and Magothy rivers. The animal was described as white, stump-legged, with a bushy tail. The idea of something big and mysterious, moving on land, captured my boyish imagination.
Soldiers often say they want to die with their boots on, but not Pat. She wanted to die with her flip flops on.
Here is a little-known truth about Notre Dame Magazine: Carol Schaal ’91M.A., the managing editor, would be named the magazine’s Most Valuable Player if the award were put to a vote of the staff. Probably by unanimous decision.
Letters to the editor.
The story of Father Constantine Scollen reveals the conflicting postures of Church and government toward the people already living on the land.
The writer, producer and host of the ArtCurious podcasts compares her unpaid evening and weekend work on the show to a different activity. “I basically tell everybody that it’s kind of like my golf,” says Jennifer Dasal ’04M.A. “It takes up a lot of my time, and it’s too expensive.”
Every year — along about commencement season — the Notre Dame lakefronts become toddler playgrounds for fuzzy little ducks and geese. Waddling in the grass, stumbling and scooting to keep up, trailing mothers single file, they eventually skim the placid waters like little bathtub toys.
It’s summer when I think about the Civil War. I think of childhood trips with dappled sunlight on Burnside’s Bridge at Antietam and the cool touch of Devil’s Den boulders at Gettysburg. So nostalgia, probably more than intellectual curiosity, is what led me to start reading James McPherson’s Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era.
An ode to the delights of summer vacation, whatever the season.
“Costumes don’t define who we are. It’s characters.” That sounds just like something Christy Burgess would say, but she’s not within earshot. Her students are channeling her.
A cult novel from the 1970s speaks to the turbulence of our own era.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Who’s up for the license plate game?
The term “victim” aptly describes those in the thralls of addiction to pharmaceutical-grade opioids. To place the blame on the chemically dependent is to miss the larger picture.
Director Christy Burgess and actors from the Robinson Shakespeare Company discuss what the ensemble means to them as they prepare for a summer trip to perform in England.
It was the summer I trafficked in Coke. The best summer ever. 1970.
Ask any college graduate what their commencement speaker said, and chances are you’ll get a shrug in return. On May 26, 2016, however, James Ryan, dean of Harvard University’s Graduate School of Education, managed to keep his audience charmed with an address that then went viral online. An expanded version of that speech has since been turned into a book: Wait, What?: And Life’s Other Essential Questions.
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man, and for one week in 1981 it showed up beneath a tree on South Quad.
Was Brian Doyle ’78 the most passionate Catholic writer in America?
Since it’s just you and me here on the page, and no one else can hear us, let’s both cheerfully admit that we have, in moments of delicious melancholy, thought about our own funerals.
Is it too much to say that everything you have ever lived and done and tried, whether you succeeded or failed, has purpose and meaning in your life?
How often, in the course of a conversation about politics, society, culture, have you heard the phrase “Any reasonable person would say . . .”? We feel that whatever claim we make after it must be true, but the implication is that those who disagree are unreasonable — and maybe worse.
Brian Doyle ’78 died early Saturday morning, May 27, having been diagnosed with a brain tumor last November. Remembering him now along with so many of his colleagues, fans, friends and family all over the country, we reprint here one of our favorite of his essays, which Brian wrote about his brother, Kevin Doyle ’69, himself dying of cancer in 2012.
I re-read the Ernie Pyle columns in Ernie’s America for many reasons. First, he was an outstanding writer who saw the story inside a person other people might ignore. And, like a lot of us, Pyle was curious. He earned his credibility because he saw things with his own eyes. He reported what he knew, without embellishment.
How is it that a teenage girl, a country miss, was chosen to flank St. Michael the Archangel above the Memorial Door to the Basilica of the Sacred Heart?