With Howard Hall closing as a residence hall in May, Notre Dame Magazine put out a request on social media for former and current Howard residents to share their memories of the century-old building. Here are some of the responses, which have been edited for clarity and length.
One memory that sticks out above the others is more my grandfather's memory than my own. My sophomore year room was 239, a triple corner room. As I returned to school that August, I gave my grandparents my new address. My grandfather — Art Lavery ’33 — remarked, “Oh, that's the corner room right next to the library. I lived in that room too.”
I thought he was confused, since the library was clear across campus. Little did I know that what I knew as the architecture building, and is now Bond Hall, was the library when my grandfather attended Notre Dame. Not only was he definitely not confused, we realized that we lived in the exact same room, about 60 years apart.
I met my future husband under the arches freshman year while he was passing through on his way to Morrissey Hall.
Next weekend I'm flying in and meeting up with two of my Howard roommates for the Luke Combs concert in Notre Dame Stadium, and we'll be heading over to the dorm for some pictures and to toast our old home.
— Katie Gorman Duffy ’95
I have a watercolor painting of a female mallard hanging on the walls of my apartment in New York City. When I am asked about it, I talk about Howard Hall.
Whenever I return to campus, I need to go “say hi” to Howard. Two of my best friends, who lived in dorms on West Quad while we were undergraduates, always question that impulse and say they don’t have any strong feelings about their dorm. That’s exactly what makes Howard Howard.
On a campus of 8,500 undergraduates, living in a building of about 140 of them created an inherently tight-knit community that most other dorms’ residents cannot relate to. More than anything, my favorite part about living in Howard was how easy it was to always have a friend accessible. Everyone from all classes knew each other, for the most part. It was almost impossible not to, given how small we were.
I am so sad that the University has decided to decommission Howard. As more behemoth dorms are built, the character and history and unique experiences provided by dorms like Howard will be eroded. If there’s one thing I know, though, it’s that us surviving Ducks won’t let the memory be forgotten.
— Laura Coletti ’13
The magazine’s solicitation for Howard Hall memories got the attention of our group of Howard alumni from the classes of 1978 and 1979. The core group consists of about 10 guys who lived together in Section 3 South for two years (1976-77 and 1977-78) and we became close friends. We’ve been in each other’s wedding parties, we’ve been to all our children’s weddings and, together with spouses and some of our older children, we still travel as a group about 50 years after the guys’ first trips together for spring breaks during college.
Soon after our graduations, six of our Chicago area-based Howard group started visiting our Howard rector — Father Gene Gorski, CSC, ’53, ’55M.A. — for a long summer weekend on campus for a few years. It included staying in Howard, using the campus athletic facilities, swimming in St. Joseph’s Lake, attending Mass celebrated by Father Gene in Howard and attending Sunday breakfast with him in Corby Hall.
Once spouses and children came along, that summer event evolved into a “Howard Reunion” on campus every summer for about 20 years — even after Father Gene moved to St. Ed’s as rector after Howard’s conversion to housing women. At its largest, with the out-of-town guys and families attending and some expansion to other Howard guys and their spouses and children, our summer Howard Reunion reached about 85 people. And we have counted 21 of the children from that large group who went on to attend Notre Dame or Saint Mary’s College.
Some of our group trips over the years also included Father Gene, who went along on a Caribbean cruise and what we later called “Cruises on Land” to various destinations in the U.S. We were very close to Father Gene. At his funeral in 2015, many of his CSC colleagues knew all about the “Father Gene Howard Hall Reunions.”
Our group’s RA in Section 3 South in 1976-77 is now the chairman of Notre Dame’s board of trustees, John Veihmeyer ’77. As we would say about John: Who knew?
— Brian Mulhern ’78
As an architecture student, I found sleep was quite a precious commodity. I will be forever grateful that as a resident of Howard (although Bond Hall was truly where I spent the most time) — the close proximity allowed me to stumble next door and sleep in an actual bed sometimes — as opposed to in the studio.
Also the ducklings in the spring, under the bushes.
— Alex Apostolou ’98
I lived in Morrissey Hall the summer session of 1966. Some of my fellow Morrissey residents learned that priests were quartered that summer next door in Howard Hall. And, my peers discovered, the priests had a refrigerator in the basement — a refrigerator containing beer. And there was an honor system to pay for it.
This prospect was something so alluring that we scratched our heads for some method that would be productive. I could never have imagined what the consensus would be, but it was decided that I looked “the oldest.”
So, donning my “vestments” — a shirt with actual buttons and the requisite black shoes and slacks — I took orders one night, and slipped into Howard. I made my way to the basement. Sure enough, there was a fridge.
In full view of a few of my fellow clerics, I opened the refrigerator, removed a discreet number of bottles, dropped what loose change we had managed to combine and tried to saunter out. It all went very well, except for the obligatory nods, waves and acknowledgments to the “other” clergy. Good to see you again; hey, how are you doing?; see you in class tomorrow, etc.
Mission accomplished. We had scored our beers. But I was so unnerved by the whole experience that I refused to try the stunt again, even though I continued to be reminded that I was the “oldest looking.” With “age” comes wisdom.
— Jack Mahon ’69
I had the good fortune to be a resident of Howard Hall during my time at ND (79-83), including my sophomore year in the quad over the arch. What Howard Hall may have lacked in creature comforts it more than made up for in character and strong community.
Any mention of Howard Hall in the ’70s and ’80s would be incomplete without the mention of our iconic and much beloved rector, Father Gene Gorski, CSC. From the first time we entered the dorm and knocked on his door (when he warmly welcomed every resident by first name) to our graduation four years later, Father Gene was there to encourage us through our time at Notre Dame. His Sunday evening Masses in the hall chapel were epic and a much appreciated opportunity to come together as a community and prepare ourselves for the week ahead.
That friendship lasted well beyond graduation. No visit to campus was complete without a visit with Father Gene to catch up on life and introduce him to our spouses and children.
— Jan Poczobutt ’83
“Pop it, lock it, polka dot it” are lyrics all Howard Ducks know, whether it’s from our annual Hoedown-themed SYR, teaching line dances during Welcome Weekend, activities at our yearly reunion at Warren Dunes or spending an hour dancing on South Quad waiting for Dorm Day results.
Notre Dame’s Dorm Day 2024 — Student Government’s Olympics-style competition among the dorms — called to all Howard Ducks, competing or not. For each competition, the cheering section from Howard at least tripled the number of girls competing in that event, and was the largest cheering section there.
Despite being one of the smallest dorms on campus, we had one of the largest showings at Dorm Day. That fact simply just shows who Howard is. We bring camaraderie and competitiveness, always show up to support each other, and are very proud of the dorm we come from.
Our determination was expressed in the last hour of Dorm Day. After a resounding victory in tug of war (the last event), Howard spirits were high and we waited for an announcement of the overall winner. We kept up the energy by line dancing, queuing up “Hoedown Throwdown,” “Timber” and “Footloose” to pass the time. We didn’t end up winning overall, but we definitely won the spirit prize.
Thank you, Howard, for the number of rubber ducks I’ve collected, for always making me feel welcomed, for pushing me to be the best version of myself, for the lifelong friends, and for being the best home in the world. Ducks Fly Together!
— Grace Mazurek, Class of 2027
In fall 1986, I was given a room placement as a freshman in Pasquerilla West Hall. It was air conditioned, one of the newest dorms, and positioned close to the library and North Dining Hall. As an architecture major, I was always walking to what is now Bond Hall (home of the architecture program at the time), so PW wasn’t the most convenient for me. Midway through the first semester of freshman year, I met two roommates on the floor below me who got along great, and took me in as honorary third roommate.
I immediately wanted in when the notice came out that Howard would be converted to a women’s dorm the following year. It didn’t take much to convince my two future roommates that the proximity to South Dining Hall, the character of an older dorm, and the variety of room sizes were worth moving to. We applied. We got in. We got a triple.
We soon met our neighbors and learned the eccentricities of the older building. The radiators were wonderful towel-warming devices. A long phone cord reached into the shower of the bathroom next door. The electrical panel for the hallway was unlocked: a temptation my engineer roommate and I could not pass up.
We had a wonderfully low-key RA, who casually observed, upon walking by our open door, “Huh, I bet you didn’t know it was a $50 a day fine for having the screen out of your window.” “Huh! Um. No, we were not aware. Good to know!” Thus ensued the retrieval of a banner hung down from our two adjacent windows, held down by two shoes tied on the lower corners. When one shoe became stuck in the gutter below, it may or may not have involved said roommates holding me by my legs out the window so I could free the banner and retrieve the shoe.
Our senior year, with the offensive line help of one of my roommates, Howard Hall won the interhall football championship. I have photos, but not memories, of muddied friends after either the Fisher Regatta or An Tóstal celebrations. I have memories, but few photos, of TP-ing our friend’s room before she returned from a retreat.
Thank you, Howard Hall, for being our home for three years. I would choose you all over again.
— Denise Dauplaise ’91
I lived in Howard Hall in 1966-67. I was walking down the third-floor hall where I lived (Room 330) one afternoon in about February 1967. I heard beautiful guitar music coming from another room, and the style was exactly what I had envisioned myself playing for years, though I had never tried.
I knocked on the door, and the guitar player opened it. His name was Bob Edwards. He was also a sophomore, whom I had never met. I blurted out, “I have got to learn how to do that.” Bob was a little startled, but said he would teach me, and did I have a guitar to practice on. I said no, and he said he wouldn't waste his time teaching me unless I had one. I asked him where I could get one, and he told me Jack's Music Store on Main Street in downtown South Bend.
I departed, hitchhiked to Jack's, bought the guitar Bob recommended, and returned to his room an hour or so later. He began teaching me, drawing chord diagrams, picking diagrams and helping me through the steps. I was working a lot of hours at WNDU, which was located on campus back then.
Each day I came back to Howard from the station, grabbed my guitar and went to the basement — the walls and ceiling of which were constructed of some combination of plaster, earth, concrete, etc., so not another soul could hear my slow progress. This continued until I got proficient enough that I started playing at some pizza joints and coffee houses around South Bend. That has continued until this day.
I eventually bought the guitar that Bob had back then — a beautiful Martin D-21 — and I still have it propped up behind me in my home office. I will always remember Howard Hall for: first, the random coincidence of me walking down the hall at that moment when Bob was playing in his room; and second, for the role that the Howard basement played in providing me a late-night sanctuary so I could grow from a rank amateur into very good guitar player, and again, that hobby has been a part of my life for the last 59 years (so far!).
— Mike Collins ’69
The Howard community has shown me that I truly belong at this university. Whether we are on the totter at 3 a.m., having an impromptu hallway conversation, or attending Sunday Mass, the Ducks show up for one another. I remember feeling so cool after a junior who lived across the hall from me stayed and chatted after hall council on a Tuesday night. Knowing that an upperclassman was interested in getting to know me made it clear the kind of care that is present within the halls of Howard.
This academic year, I have served as the Sitting Duck commissioner. The Sitting Duck is a weekly newsletter that is posted in Howard bathroom stalls. Each week, I interview a few residents to be featured in the next issue. It’s helped me to get to know many Howard residents and introduce them to the entire hall. Next year, I’ll serve as the Grojean Hall vice president, and I hope to pass the Sitting Duck tradition (likely with a name change) to a new commissioner.
I trust that our community will work hard to maintain the spirit of Howard through the move to the new dorm. It isn’t really about the building, but about the people who live within that make Howard so special.
— Taryn Wilson, Class of 2028
My favorite part of Howard Hall was the stuffy, summer air within the dorm that felt like it was actually holding its breath for us to return to campus in August. I liked when the chunky wood dressers and desks were pushed up against the walls of the rooms, like Jenga pieces waiting to be rearranged and reinvented by the new Ducks who were to call that room their own.
I remember freshman year setting up my “puzzle room,” nicknamed so because of its tiny size and slanted ceilings that made deciding the layout like solving a jigsaw puzzle. I was excited for the challenge, being thoughtful about making either side of the room equally desirable to set a good first impression with my random roommate.
Because I’m an international student from Canada, I moved in earlier than most at the start of freshman year. I peered into the other awkwardly irregular rooms in my small detached penthouse hallway and was dying to know who my neighbors would be. I ran around ecstatically when they finally arrived, offering to help carry things, showing off my fully set-up room decor and asking if they wanted me to do a Starbucks run (which my mom had told me would help me make friends).
Howard, I’ll miss walking around barefoot on your carpets, I’ll miss your reasonless room shapes, and I’ll miss the excitement and opportunity you held within the hot summer air. Air conditioning would have ruined that. I thank rector Anna Kenny for treating every Duck like her own daughter and friend, always with a listening ear and a tight hug. But, above all else, I thank you, Howard, for the Ducks you gave me to be friends for life.
— Avery Southam, Class of 2027
As a transfer student, it was sometimes challenging for me to integrate into a dorm community without the typical frosh-o experience, but Howard welcomed me with open arms. Everyone from the rectress to my next-door neighbor made an effort to reach out and be kind.
Senior year, I lived in a fourth-floor single and also met my now-husband, a fellow marching band member. We spent plenty of evenings strolling on Bond Quad or around the lakes and watching movies in the fourth-floor lounge. After every dining hall date, he walked me back to my front door. We went to the Harry Potter-themed Howard Formal together and we still decorate our Christmas tree with ornaments we made at Howard Christmas Craft Night.
We shared our first kiss under the Howard arch, and two years later, he proposed to me in that same spot. We got married in the Basilica in 2020, and of course, we took some wedding photos in front of Howard.
— Katie Ujdak ’17
I met one of my best friends on the fourth floor of Howard on the day we moved in as freshmen. My dad and I were carrying things in when we met what seemed like her whole extended family -- turned out she was from South Bend and the many people helping her move in were only a small segment of her big and loving family, many of the rest of whom I got to meet when I spent Thanksgiving with them that year.
My freshman year triple turned into a double when one of my roommates got pregnant. She and her new husband moved into married housing and the healthy baby came along later that year.
We once had the genius idea to have a cozy winter event of making s’mores in the microwave. It was a great time until the fire alarm marked the end of that event.
I still dream about the stairwells at Howard. I think they loom large in my consciousness because that's where I spent years running into people, and all those encounters helped turn fledgling friendships into lifelong ones.
— Jackie (Mirandola Mullen) Gonzales ’10
One of the things I loved most about Howard was the single rooms. When I lived in Howard from 2001-2005, my closest friends (all Class of ’05) — Katie May, Nicole Orozco, Thuong Le and Sara Ramirez — always aimed to select singles on the same floor. It was a great opportunity to have a level of privacy that many other dorms didn't offer, while still allowing for the close-knit relationships between dormmates.
My other favorite memories of Howard Hall include Jamie Le, the night monitor, and Liz McIntyre, who kept the dorm spotless. They both cared so deeply for all the women, and they were integral to our well-being and safety.
— Sarah Daly ’05
In 1967-68, several of us in Howard Hall used to have timed nude races in the snow between the rear door on the east side and the steps of South Dining Hall and back. Shoes were allowed; however, no garments. Participants all lived adjacent to the door. Initials of some of the participants were TA, MP, AA and KB, who lived at the end of the first-floor hall.
— Tom Altmeyer ’69
I was fortunate freshman year to live over the arches, which somehow felt like bragging rights. It didn’t even matter that it was on the fourth floor, or that there wasn’t air conditioning, or that the steps were damp with humidity at the start of the year.
You knew everyone in the hall, at least in passing, and it really did feel like a family. My closest friends are fellow Ducks. We still dance to our frosh-o song “Like a Prayer” and do duck arms in photos together. We’ve taken wedding pictures under the arches and are proud of being Ducks.
It’s hard to believe that Howard won’t welcome future generations of Ducks and it makes me teary to think about. It’s hard to put the feeling into words about what others will miss: the small close-knit community, the radiators where a fellow Duck once got her finger stuck, the rubber ducks, the Hoedown. It was truly a home away from home where I met some of my closest friends on campus. But we have the memories. And, of course, Ducks Fly Together.
— Sara (Seidler) Camus ’10
I was lucky enough to live in Howard Hall for three years. My heart breaks for the future ND students that will never get to experience the double arch, the first-floor meeting room (The Pond), the fourth-floor 10x10 annex that I lived in freshman year, and the sweet old men knocking on my door on game day exclaiming, “I used to live here!”
The incredible women that filled its halls are what made it home. I met my life-long best friends in Howard. We grew up together in that dorm. When one of us succeeded, we felt it and celebrated together. Likewise, when something went wrong — whether a failed test, heartbreak or a misstep — we experienced it together, crammed into one of our tiny fourth-floor rooms freshman year or sprawled across the hallway between our third-floor singles junior year.
I met my fiancé at Notre Dame and it was on the grass outside the arches that we had our first kiss. It was also under the arches that I experienced my first heartbreak.
Howard is so inextricably intertwined with my experience at Notre Dame, it’s difficult to imagine a future in which it’s no longer a dorm and haven for ND women. Love thee Notre Dame, love thee Howard Hall!
— Gracie Georgi ’19