Before Joseph W. Schmidt ’35 attended his 65-year reunion at Notre Dame, he wrote and mailed a poem to his surviving classmates. He wanted, says his daughter, Joanne Schmidt, “to let them know how much ND and his classmates meant to him.” Mr. Schmidt died a year after that reunion, but his love of the University lives on in his words, which he called “The Domer.”
The hand of fate may scatter us afar
Like leaves before a vagrant autumn zephyr,
The pals to whom we bid fond au revoir
May part from us unknowingly-forever.
In distant climes diverse pursuits may claim
Their toll of college friendships and affections.
Pelf and power, wealth and transient fame
May lure our steps in devious directions.
But through the years to come, though chance may strew
Our numbers far apart, it cannot sever
The phantom bonds which make this brief review
A poignant class reunion here forever.
Here we’ll commune with friends of yesteryear,
The pals we worked and played beside at college,
The Priests and the Profs who taught us here
And helped us trend the tortuous path to knowledge.
Here in unceasing union we’ll reside,
And memories of old Notre Dame cherish,
And even after all of us have died
The name we leave behind will never perish.