Notre Dame Magazine invites personal essays of no more than 250 words on subjects of nostalgic interest to alumni of all ages. Selected submissions will be published in a future print edition or online at magazine.nd.edu. Please send fun, meaningful or evocative stories from your student days on the topics listed below to associate editor Michelle Cuneo at mmcdani2@nd.edu. New topics to come each issue.
GAMEDAY: Deadline Aug. 1, 2025
SNOWBALL FIGHT: Deadline Nov. 3, 2025
Party on!
In the first year of coeducation, I lived in Walsh Hall. Our rector, Sister Jane Pitz ’72MFA, was easygoing but had her hands full keeping us safe and enforcing parietal rules. Since our room was next to one of Walsh’s main entrances, it was easy for us — well, me — to sneak guys in for late-night poker games.
One day, one of my roommates and I — mostly me — decided to have a little fun with Sister Jane. We made up dozens of fliers and spread them around South Quad, announcing that the next Saturday night there would be a big party in a certain room in Walsh Hall. Come one, come all! It was a huge success. At all hours of the night, Sister Jane had students, mostly men, knocking on her door asking to be let in for the party.
Sister Jane never confronted us directly, but I could tell from the way she looked at me that she had strong suspicions. After all, I was the one who had once squeezed myself into the dorm’s glass case holding the fire extinguisher and hose. Another time, I was the one who had fallen asleep with a candle burning, igniting all the posters on our wall. That set off the fire alarm and evacuated the dorm at 3 a.m.
She was probably glad to see us move to Farley the next year. In my defense, you only tease people you like.
— Becky Banasiak Code ’76
Monkey business
On a sunny fall afternoon, after we exited North Dining Hall, the idea for “Operation Monkey Business” was born. As my fellow Knott Hall Juggerknotts and I were walking home, we could not help but notice a massive, inflatable, pink gorilla the size of Godzilla nestled atop the front entrance of Farley Hall, a decoration for their upcoming dance. As one of my friends had unsuccessfully asked an Angel to the dance, we were determined to seek justice.
Our mission was to rehome the pink gorilla to a more suitable habitat at Knott. With the help of several ROTC students, we convened in our war room — the hallway library by the bathroom — to plan. We donned camouflage and set out for Farley around 2 a.m. We formed a perimeter with lookouts, and our rock-climbing expert scaled Farley with Spider-Man precision, deflated the mammoth gorilla and lobbed him over the side for us to catch. Then we made a swift departure into the night.
Beaming with pride, we inflated the pink gorilla in our resident assistant’s living room for a morning surprise. While some of us feared expulsion for our heist, our rector, Brother Jerome Meyer, CSC, thought it was quite amusing. Eventually we returned the unharmed pink gorilla to our sisters in Farley Hall — after a small ransom was paid.
— Anthony Velardi ’06
Read all about it
It was late April 1981, and as we were second-semester seniors, poker games with a pony keg and stupid stunts easily took priority over studying, seven days out of seven.
We were Holy Cross Hogs just killing time until graduation. One of our classmates left for the multiday CPA exam in Indianapolis. We had the idea to fill his room with crumpled newspapers while he was gone. Great idea, and way better than studying.
So, we started what seemed like an easy and simple prank. What we didn’t realize was that it takes a lot of crumpled newspaper to fill a room, and Holy Cross had really large singles. Nevertheless, we proceeded.
We had help. The kid delivering the South Bend Tribune on campus joined in. (Sorry if you didn’t get your paper that week.) And large stacks of The Observer mysteriously disappeared from South Dining Hall.(Again, sorry.) It wasn’t long before the smell of newsprint overwhelmed the third floor of the hall’s old section. (Once more, sorry.)
We didn’t fill the room, but we got five or six feet deep. Our reward came when our victim returned. We were across the hall in my room, waiting to hear his reaction while trying to stifle our laughter so as not to tip him off.
In an ending that could not have been scripted or staged any better, as our friend forced open his door, our rector happened to be walking by. “Clean up that mess right now!” he said, and then walked away. Perfect.
— Jim Buddie ’81
The Great Uncovering
One sunny Indiana day, my good friend and co-RA, Elizabeth, received a Playboy magazine in her school mailbox at Lewis Hall. I decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to prank our AR, Diane. We printed off a different mailing label with Diane’s name and address to use on the magazine, snuck into her room, and placed it in a conspicuous area. Then I got another RA, Beth, to come with me to chat with Diane and “accidentally” find this magazine — Oh, the look on her face!
Don’t worry. She got me back by cutting out every picture from the magazine — think chain-mail bikinis — and hiding them all over my room and wallpapering my walls. Well, I thought I had found them all, but little did I know she taped one behind a banner on my wall. When all my friends and family came to my dorm room after a football game, someone knocked the banner to the side and revealed a very revealing picture. I think Diane won that battle, but the prank wars had just begun.
— Katie Kleber ’03
Roll Reversal
Just weeks after I moved into Pangborn Hall as a freshman in August 1974, a tight-knit group of us from the second floor formed — much to the misfortune of our neighbors in Fisher.
One friend, a Navy ROTC member, eventually realized that he had a footlocker with a key that, coincidentally, also worked on the wall-mounted toilet paper dispensers in the bathroom stalls. Back in the ’70s, a hall’s support staff was mostly a Monday through Friday crew, so we periodically would run out of toilet paper in a few stalls on some weekends. What if we could take proactive steps to keep our stalls supplied and also wreak a little havoc on our neighbors across the courtyard, we wondered?
So, in wee hours of a very early Saturday morning on a major football weekend, in the dark of night, we hit Fisher and methodically emptied every, and I mean every, bathroom stall of all toilet paper. If a stall was occupied, we circled back to ensure our full success. Despite throwing dozens of rolls as streamers during the game, we still had plenty to retain as an emergency weekend stock for Pangborn, while the guys in Fisher likely had a heckuva predicament that Saturday morning.
— Tom Pavelka ’78 BA
Clothes Call in the Student Section
Our freshman year of 1966 ended in Ara Parseghian's first National Championship. Six of our ten games were shutouts.
Our seats as freshmen were at top of the stadium at that time, against the low stadium wall. It was commonplace during these games for a student or several to be passed hand over hand down the stands and, usually, back up.
During a slow period in the Duke game — our last home game — we passed Jimmy Brogan, wearing a white shirt and tan slacks, all the way down from the top to the first row on the field. As he began to be passed back up, the crowd took notice and got more and more enthusiastic.
When Jimmy finally reached the top again, we pulled off our real stunt: we threw a dummy, dressed identically to Jimmy, over the wall. The shocked gasps of the crowd could be heard all over the Stadium — until Jimmy stood up and waved. Then he glanced over the wall and saw a drunk guy in the parking lot running away with his clothes.
Antics such as these started Jimmy on a path to a very successful stand-up comedy career!
— Gary Tierney ’70
Hanging Out
One of my Breen-Phillips Hall roomies, Kathy, was always suggesting pranks.
One night, after a party, Kathy and I were walking past the Administration Building, and she said, “The light in Hesburgh’s office is on. Let’s go visit.” I said, “The doors are locked.” Kathy said, “That’s ok, we will climb the outside wall.” Even though we were wearing dresses, we did, got to the window, and waved at Fr. Hesburgh. He opened the window and said, “Do come in, and next time, do consider the front door!”
In front of the same building, there used to be two magnolia trees. Kathy taught us how to climb up in the trees. We would wait till a couple came by, hugging or kissing. Kathy was famous for saying, “Is that the best you’ve got?” We would start laughing and try not to fall out of the tree!
— Robin Lavender ’78