Those angry readers

By Kerry Temple ’74

“Dear Editor,” the note began, “after reading ‘Bush Country’ in which R. Bruce Dold spent several pages licking George Bush’s shoes, I have lost all respect for your magazine. Please cancel my subscription.”

“Please cancel my subscription,” said the second. “I cannot recall perusing such a steady diet of trivia in the face of the criminal behavior of our country in the slaughter of Iraq.”…

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The Impact of the Generations Campaign

By Kerry Temple ’74

Salvatore J. LaPilusa ‘41 came to South Bend from Bayonne, New Jersey, as a freshman in the fall of 1937. It was his first time away from home. His father, a bricklayer, had come to America in 1912; his mother, a seamstress, had come in 1914. Young Sal traveled alone by train to the Midwestern city, then took the trolley up the hill from downtown. “Seeing the dome,” he recalls, “made my heart pound faster.” He checked into freshman hall, roomed with a kid from Denver in a hothouse little cubicle with steel bunks and no chairs. Sal wanted to be a doctor. The tuition that year, he figured, was $25 per week — his father’s weekly pay. His two older sisters worked to help get Sal through school.…

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God Is Where You Find Him

By Kerry Temple ’74

It occurred to me, then, ripping along at 85 miles an hour, engulfed in the darkness of the night, that one thing I like best about driving is that you are nowhere and everywhere at once. Even though you are bound, to some degree, by geography and law and physics, these are not rigid constraints. Their power ebbs and flows with time, leaving you untethered and free, “passing through,” as they say, and therefore tied to no here

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A Magazine of Many Parts

By Kerry Temple ’74

The other day I was telling a friend about a person I admire. I summed it up by saying, “He is a man of many rooms.” My friend looked at me quizzically, and I tried to explain a concept that had come to me some years ago.

The idea emerged at a time I lived in a big three-story house and had kids to play with and dinners to cook and the occasional need to be alone. It seemed that different rooms required different roles and that filling those various roles enabled me to inhabit different parts of me.…

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Notre Dame Football: The Indisputable Importance of Saturday

By Kerry Temple ’74

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My heart was first broken on November 28, 1964. I was 12.

I was in the car with my dad listening to the closing minutes of the Notre Dame-USC game on the radio. It was the season finale for Notre Dame, because the school did not go to bowl games then. So Notre Dame, undefeated and ranked No. 1, was in Los Angeles for that wondrous season’s climactic face-off, and a 17-0 Irish lead had dissolved into a 17-13 cliffhanger. USC

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Breaking News: The Perils of a Quarterly

By Kerry Temple ’74

We stopped what we were doing on Tuesday, November 30, even though we were in the final harried days of getting the winter issue done. Word had come down that Tyrone Willingham, after three seasons as head football coach, was being fired. The press conference was being carried live on local TV, so we turned on the little set in our office and watched.…

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Clear Moment

By Kerry Temple ’74

The first time I backpacked with Don Nelson I got mad at him. He would lag back on the trail, falling so far behind the rest of us that he’d disappear from sight. Periodically I would sit and wait for him.

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ND Athletics in 2002

By Kerry Temple ’74

In the early 1950s, near the end of the Frank Leahy era in Notre Dame football, the University’s new young president, Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, had just been interviewed by a reporter when a photographer tossed a football to the priest and asked him to pose with it. Perhaps, it was suggested, you could pretend to be hiking the ball. Hesburgh bristled; he would have none of it. His dream was for Notre Dame to earn its place among the nation’s finest universities, and such foolishness would only perpetuate the perception of Notre Dame as a football school.…

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Letter from Campus: Wish You Were Here

By Kerry Temple ’74

To some residents of northern Indiana, the sight of a crocus, daffodil or robin signals the arrival of spring. But I watch the Stepan basketball courts for the first signs of hoopster activity. From my fifth-floor Grace Hall window I will spy a couple of guys in T-shirts and shorts shooting in the breezy air, followed later — as the afternoons warm and the days lengthen — by games of two-on-two, then some full-court up-and-down, and then by that climactic spring tradition called Bookstore.…

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Letter from Campus: Salute to the Old Guard

By Kerry Temple ’74

Jim Murphy died September 2, 2002. There’s an announcement of his death in this issue, but, as is the case with all obituaries, it only tells part of the story.

Jim Murphy,a 1947 ND graduate, came to work for Notre Dame in 1952. He was the University’s chief public relations officer when I came to work here in 1977. He was one of the nicest, kindest gentlemen I’ve ever known. He retired in 1992, and his final years were eventually consumed by a struggle with Parkinson’s that was both gallant and heartbreaking.…

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A Note on the Contents

By Kerry Temple ’74

My parents and I always talked a lot when I was younger. We’d talk over dinner, then talk around the dinner table long after dinner was gone. Then — tired of sitting in straight-back chairs — we’d take the conversation into the den, which we called the caboose because it was a room added on to the back of the house. We disagreed a lot.…

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A Note on the Contents

By Kerry Temple ’74

My parents and I always talked a lot when I was younger. We’d talk over dinner, then talk around the dinner table long after dinner was gone. Then — tired of sitting in straight-back chairs — we’d take the conversation into the den, which we called the caboose because it was a room added on to the back of the house. We disagreed a lot.…

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Flying with Monk

By Kerry Temple ’74

Back in 1993 the editor of this magazine, Walt Collins ‘51, asked me to write about Father Monk Malloy, CSC, University president. It is not an easy task, writing about the person who is ultimately your boss in a manner appropriate for this magazine.

Now, in a reversal, I asked Walt to profile Monk as he nears the end of his remarkable, 18-year tenure as president of this University. Monk will step down this summer, leaving the presidency to John Jenkins, CSC

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Editor's Note

By Kerry Temple ’74

I suppose I have now lived long enough to see how we become products of the era in which we come of age.

My parents grew up during the Depression, and the hardships of that epoch have never left them. They were young adults during World War II. My mother worked at a USO canteen and watched all the young men she knew go off to war. My father was a member of that “greatest generation,” serving his country in Asia, wearing his uniform on his wedding day. The experiences and memories of these times shaped their principles, ideals and values.…

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Freedom: When I Have Driven Far Enough

By Kerry Temple ’74

It’s not real clear to me how memory works. Sometimes memories seem to drop right out of the sky. They’ll plop into your head like the first few warning shots of summer rain, when the sky has gone dark and the air has cooled and the first wet drops plunge to earth. Images fall into your head from some place far away. Then a downpour of impressions follows. Sometimes memory is like a landscape you rediscover. It reveals itself as you go back through it, unfolding its secrets as you retrace your steps one turn or corner at a time. That’s how it feels now.…

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A note on the winter 2003¬04 contents

By Kerry Temple ’74

A funny thing happens on the way to growing up — a lot of years go by. One day you’re walking around the lakes, trying to figure out how you’ll fit into the real world, and the next thing you know you’ve got kids of your own facing the same dilemma. In between is a blur of living—dating, marriage and children, careers, housekeeping and all manner of callings, demands and responsibilities. So pretty soon, instead of trying to figure out how you’ll fit into the real world, you realize you already have.…

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A note on the contents

By Kerry Temple ’74

The "Soul of a University" story in the Spring 2004 issue may be one of the most important stories we’ve ever done.

It originated this past fall during a lunch conversation with the author, Anthony DePalma, a longtime New York Times correspondent who was here as a visiting scholar at Notre Dame’s Kellogg Institute. I had planned to discuss his doing a piece for us on his areas of expertise (Latin America, Cuba), but I also wanted to know how his son, a Notre Dame senior, was doing. Aahren had had a terrible time with leukemia as a student here.…

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Letter from Campus: Continuity

By Kerry Temple ’74

During his homily at the funeral Mass for Father Ned Joyce, Father Hesburgh told a little story that said a lot.

Hesburgh, who was then 32, spoke of meeting the young priest shortly after Joyce’s ordination in 1949. “It was less than an hour later,” recalled Hesburgh, who was executive vice president of the University at the time, “when I was leaving my office to go to Father John Cavanaugh’s office, my boss, the president, and as I got to the door it burst open, and out came this handsome and ebullient young priest. I said, ’You’ve got to be Ned Joyce,’ and he said, ‘Yes. Who are you?’ I said, ‘Ted Hesburgh,’ and I knelt down and said, ’You’d better give me that first blessing. It’s one of the best.’ And he did.”

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The love that dare not speak its name

By Kerry Temple ’74

_'The love that dare not speak its name.'—Oscar Wilde_ A quarter century ago, in a conversation with a University officer about the role of _Notre Dame Magazine_ and its editorial philosophy, I was told that any topic was fair game—except homosexuality. The topic is no longer taboo, and during the past two decades the magazine occasionally has dealt with homosexuality on its pages, and it has always incited a heated reaction. Some say the magazine is too timid in its treatment of the subject; others say this magazine is no place to discuss such matters.

In all this time—until now—we've never had an openly gay person write a piece for the magazine about his or her sexual orientation. I recall only a few stories submitted by openly gay alumni about homosexual-related topics in the nine years I've been editor, and these didn't see print simply because they didn't meet the magazine's standards in terms of writing quality, style or approach. Of course, we didn't go looking for gay alumni to write for us either—until now.…

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It really is in the mail

By Kerry Temple ’74

A bad thing happened with our summer issue, and it had nothing to do with the content.

The first clue came soon after the issue was mailed from Willard, Ohio, where it is printed. One morning we got four, large, brown envelopes full of back covers. That’s how we learn a magazine won’t make it to its destination. A postal worker rips off and returns the back cover (it holds the mailing label) and discards the rest of the issue. And we had four, big, thick envelopes full of “returns.”…

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