Poem about the University of Notre Dame in 1966/67

From 1962-66, I attended an all-boys Catholic high school, St. Joe's in Cleveland (2000 boys). And then in 1966 I went on to an all-male Catholic college, the University of Notre Dame (7000 guys, no girls). This is the exotic, strange, and often lonesome environment in which I was educated.

Devil with the Blue Dress On . . .

                                                            (University of Notre Dame, 1966-67)

played over and over at Notre Dame’s Rathskeller,

Basement of the Student Center, Good Golly Miss Molly,

Only place on campus where you might, but probably not,

Meet and dance with a girl, while you’re

Grooving on a Sunday Afternoon,

And smelling their sweet perfume,

Wishing they would dance with you.

Tomorrow will be Monday, Monday,

So Reach Out I’ll Be There—

And I will Cherish you like a thirsty man in the desert cherishes water.

Of course, you will say to me, You Can’t Hurry Love;

I know you’re right, but why not let’s try.

Baby, I Need Somebody to Love, and tonight

We could go Dancing in the Street, down Notre Dame Avenue,

Down to Frankie’s or Louie’s or another juke joint,

And you could Light My Fire . . .

O baby, I’ve been Lonely Too Long,

So Lonesome I Could Cry,

And this is Notre Dame, where you learn loneliness

Along with calculus, geology, and German.

Bob Coughlin / August 16, 2016

A Poem for the Darkest Day of the Year--"Christbrand," by Frank O'Malley

Christbrand

By Frank O’Malley

Let the Christbrand burst,
Let the Christbrand blazon.

Dartle whitely under the hearth-fire,
Unwind the wind, turn the thunderer,
And never, never thinning,
Forfend fear.
Flare up smartly, fix, flex, bless, inspire,
Instar the time, sear the sorcerer,
And never, never sparing,
Save all year.

Let the Christbrand burst,
Let the Christbrand blazon.

Frank O’Malley was a beloved English Professor at the University of Notre Dame. As I remember, he lived in Lyons dormitory, looking out toward St. Mary Lake, one of the most beautiful places on a beautiful campus. Frank O'Malley was both a great professor, and a notorious drinker. He was a seriously flawed man, and a seriously good Catholic Christian. When I was a Freshman at Notre Dame in 1966, Frank O'Malley gave his students the above poem.

The poem uses unusual language and it might be worth it to look up some of the words:

--brand: the word in Old and Middle English means "burning," "fire."

--blazon: this word can mean proclaim or display publicly.

--dartle: means to dart or shoot forth repeatedly.

--forfend: avert, prevent, or keep away something evil.

--instar: a stage in the life of an insect between two successive molts. Also, a play on the word "star," which is a burning mass that emits light.

--sear: to burn (the surface of something)

The principal imagery of this poem involves fire. This is a creative fire, a light shining in the darkness, a light in the darkest, coldest time of the year.

Some links on Frank O'Malley: 

Center for Ethics and Culture--On Frank O'Malley

Notre Dame Magazine article on O'Malley

Newsweek article on O'Malley

Poem for My Grandsons, Colin and Robby

Walking Across Frozen St. Mary’s Lake (January 1967)

I am walking through the woods and gardens

Of Holden Arboretum, holding the hands of my precious

Grandsons, Colin and Robby.

They cannot know what they mean to me,

Cannot know that I dreamed them into being—ha ha! --

. . . in the bitter cold winter of ’66-67,

me walking across the frozen St. Mary’s Lake,

At the University of Notre Dame.

The Golden Dome shining in the crisp night,

The spire of Sacred Heart Basilica,

The glow of the candles at the Grotto—

Me imagining two little boys, one holding my left hand,

One my right, as we tromp across the lake.

Me, rehearsing in my mind ways to explain to your mother

Why this was safe, why this is good—

A controlled adventure,

A thing the boys won’t forget—

Doing something amazing and magical

At this special place, this special night,

With a man who shares their genes and blood—

Boys, I imagined you long ago, I conjured you

When I was 18 years old

On a frozen winter night,

On a frozen lake, long ago,

I dreamed you!

These amazing boys, this fierce love,

This bottomless gratitude.

       Bob Coughlin / October 25, 2015

Poem for Marty Gerrity (and James Taylor)

I recently purchased James Taylor's new album (Before This World) and began thinking about my introduction to the music of JT. It came with Marty Gerrity's arrival at the University of Notre Dame in the late winter of 1970. Marty brought two albums with him (and really, not much else!). But wow, what a gift that music was. Marty  became our friend--we were happy to have him around with his brother Mike (Mike was our dear friend and classmate from the Notre Dame Innsbruck Program). I got to know all the Gerrity family: Tommy, Mike, Kevin, Ellen (and her then-boyfriend Tom), Ann, Mrs. Gerrity, Aunt Peggy--flawed and loving and fun--and very very American-Irish. Below is my poem for Marty, who died a couple years ago.

Marty Gerrity Brings James Taylor to Notre Dame

(For Marty, 1952-2013)

When Marty Gerrity hitchhiked into town,

late winter of 1970,

he brought two record albums: James Taylor,

and Sweet Baby James.

“Carolina in My Mind,” the bluesy edge of “Night Owl,”

“Something in the Way She Moves,” “Circle Round the Sun”--all the themes

and genres were there in album #1, then

“Sweet Baby James,” “Steamroller,”

“Country Road,” “Fire and Rain”--

album #2

flattened us, inflamed us, and flooded us

with emotion.

The photo of JT on Sweet Baby James

reminded us of Marty, the long brown hair,

the wistful eyes, full of promise,

and a measure of trouble.

Yes, Marty, we will always remember

your coming to town,

your gift of music,

your trouble

and your grace.

[Bob Coughlin / June 30, 2015]

The Great Priest and Notre Dame Professor Has Died: "Dick McBrien, free at last" | National Catholic Reporter

Dick McBrien, free at last | National Catholic Reporter


Yesterday I found out that Fr. Richard McBrien, the great priest, theologian, and professor at the University of Notre Dame, has died. I emailed him a couple of times over the years when he was under fierce attack by reactionary bishops and others who somehow saw themselves as defenders of the faith. Fr. McBrien was kind enough to respond to me in the middle of his busy life. He seemed fearless and wasn't cowed by those trying to destroy him (yes, some people tried to destroy this great man--they should be ashamed). The above article was published in the National Catholic Reporter and written by Eugene Kennedy. There is also a wonderful obituary in the New York Times, and I will try to find a link to that.

I think it was Fr. McBrien who once said, "I am a 2000-year Christian!" He was aware of the broad, long, and diverse history of the Church and wasn't sucked into the narrow, twisted version that so often passes for Catholicism today.


Rest in Peace, Fr. Richard McBrien. And thank you for your courageous witness!

Richard McBrien in his office at Notre Dame

Fighting Irish of Notre Dame: Fighting to Build Bridges

This video makes me prouder of my Alma Mater than any stupid football victory. [Have to admit: I still love Notre Dame football.]

Visit to the University of Notre Dame

Our visit to Notre Dame on August 31st for the Notre Dame-Temple football game. The campus was beautiful and full of fun and everybody seemed so happy. We parked at St. Mary's College and walked over to the Grotto, where we met my brothers and their kids. Minutes later I met Chris Cotter, his son Daniel, and Becky Cotter's son Austin. Chris and I, friends since 1966 or so, barely had time to talk, but it was wonderful to see him. At times I felt almost overcome by memories. As we prayed at the Grotto, I especially thought of my mother, who loved Notre Dame and visited it often as a girl. I imagine I went to the school because of my Mom. Below are some photos from that wonderful day.

Linda by St. Mary's Lake

Linda and Bob near the Golden Dome

Bob, with Washington Hall in the background

Hesburgh Library and the mosaic of the Resurrected Christ

Bob, Jim, Darby, Kevin, Tommy

Chris Cotter and Bob

Dillon and Harmon

iI the Grotto, lighting a candle

The Great Ship "S.S. United States" Is Looking Long in the Tooth (Like Me!)

In the summer of 1967 I had the miraculous opportunity of studying in Salzburg and Innsbruck, Austria for my Sophomore year in college (I was a student at the University of Notre Dame). This was an astonishing thing for a working class boy from Euclid, Ohio.

For the same tuition that we paid for my Freshman year at Notre Dame, we got ship passage (S.S. United States) to and from Europe, train passage from Le Havre, France, to Salzburg, room and board in Austria, plus tuition and field trips. The total cost was around $2500--not cheap back then, but not like the $50,000 per year price tag of today's elite universities (including Notre Dame).

The S.S. United States was not as luxurious as today's cruise ships, but it was big and very fast. It also was safe and it worked--it didn't break down like so many cruise ships today. We made the passage from New York City to Le Havre, France, in 4 or 5 days. I wonder how long it took my Irish and German ancestors to come from Europe to America by sailing ship (weeks? a month? longer?).

I had heard that the ship was now mothballed in Philadelphia Harbor. A former classmate of mine, Charlie Bradley, sent around the following video and news report on the sorry state of the ship right now. It looks like a gigantic rust bucket! Attempts are being made to raise money to save it. Good luck!


Check out this link for video, a slide show, and a story on the S.S. United States:
http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/07/travel/ocean-liner-united-states/index.html?hpt=hp_c2

Message to Manti Te'o--A Poem

Made-up Notre Dame Girlfriends: Message to Manti Te’o

Listen, Manti, this is nothing new!

Back in ’66 all Notre Dame boys,

All 7000 of them, had pretend girlfriends!

     (Bob Coughlin)

Sr. Franzita Kane's 104th Birthday

Sunday is the 104th anniversary of the birth of my friend and mentor, Sr. Franzita Kane CSC. She was a professor of mine 1968-70 at St. Mary's College when I was a student at the University of Notre Dame. I (and many others!) thank God for Sr. Franzita's life!

This obit was published in the Deseret News on December 19. 1993.

Distinguished Educator, Sister M. Franzita (Dorothy Honore) Kane, C.S.C., died December 1, 1993 of natural causes at St. Mary's Convent in Notre Dame, Indiana. Sister Franzita Kane was born on January 20, 1909 in Idaho, daughter of Thomas Francis Kane (b. Pueblo, Colorado) and Elizabeth (Olsen) Kane (b. Mink Creek, Idaho). She attended Catholic schools in Park City, Utah and Salt Lake City, Utah and graduated from St. Mary's of the Wasatch (high school) in 1926. She entered the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in 1927 and took her final vows August 15, 1930. She received her Bachelors of Arts in 1942 from Immaculate Heart College, her Masters of Arts in 1952 from Catholic University, and her PhD in 1958 from the University of Notre Dame.

She taught English in Catholic secondary schools from 1930 through 1950, served as principal at St. Mary's of the Wasatch from 1947 through 1950. She was an instructor, Department of English, at Dunbarton College in Washington, D.C. in 1953. She began teaching as a professor, Department of English at St. Mary's College in Notre Dame, Indiana in 1960 and served as chairman of the department. She retired from full-time teaching in 1975. She was much beloved by her students for her wit and for demanding the best from her pupils. Her academic career included founding the Sister Madeleva Poetry Association, writing and publishing poetry, as well as editing numerous publications, participating in professional and educational organizations. She traveled extensively to Europe for research and continuing educational studies. She is listed in "Who's Who in American Education.”

Sr. Franzita is survived by six nieces and one nephews, many grand nieces and nephews.

Christmas Poem by Frank O'Malley

Christbrand

By Frank O’Malley

Let the Christbrand burst,
Let the Christbrand blazon.

Dartle whitely under the hearth-fire,
Unwind the wind, turn the thunderer,
And never , never thinning,
Forfend fear.
Flare up smartly, fix, flex, bless, inspire,
Instar the time, sear the sorcerer,
And never, never sparing,
Save all year.

Let the Christbrand burst,
Let the Christbrand blazon.

(Frank O’Malley was a beloved English Professor at the University of Notre Dame)

Christmas Poem by Notre Dame's Frank O'Malley

Here's a Christmas season poem by Frank O'Malley, who was a famous professor at the University of Notre Dame from the 1930's to the 1970's:




Let the Christbrand Burst!

Let the Christbrand burst!
Let the Christbrand blazon!
Dartle whitely under the hearth-fire,
Unwind the wind, turn the thunderer,
And never, never thinning,
Forfend fear.
Flare up smartly, fix, flex, bless, inspire,
Instar the time, sear the sorcerer,
And never, never sparing,
Save all year.

Let the Christbrand Burst!
Let the Christbrand blazon!

Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes in Euclid, Ohio

On Chardon Road (US Route 6) hill, just south of Euclid Avenue (US Route 20), in the City of Euclid, Ohio, there is a most holy place--the Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes. I attend mass there in the summer, and today was the opening mass of the season. The mass begins at 9:30 sharp (sometimes even a couple minutes early!) at the bluestone grotto, a replica of the grotto cave in Lourdes, France. The cave (or grotto) is made from Euclid bluestone, quarried about a mile from the shrine by Irish, Hungarian, Slovenian, and other immigrants--including my own great grandfather, Fenton Fitzpatrick. There is a similar replica grotto at the University of Notre Dame--another very holy place. A priest-professor from Borromeo Seminary said the mass as a couple hundred lay people joined in the celebration. The world's strangest choir led the singing, as usual. Today the temperature was in the mid 60's and the sky was overcast, windy, and threatened rain. I think these conditions hurried the celebrant along a bit. It was a typical yet beautiful mass in this holy place. Lake Erie can be seen a few miles to the north of the Shrine, and the street noise and sometimes sirens and train whistles of busy Euclid, Ohio can often be heard. But the beauty, sanctity, and absolute specialness of this place is clear to everyone in attendance.

After mass, Linda, Emily, and I lit some candles and especially remembered Ruth Hoffman Sanders, my mother-in-law who died 2 years ago yesterday. Ruth was a tremendous person, a force of nature. Intelligent, passionate, a great mother, housewife, cook, family manager, motivator. She lived intensely right up to her sudden passing. We still haven't quite gotten over it. May she rest in peace and be brought into Heaven. And may she pray for all of us! We also prayed for my father-in-law, Ruth's husband Art Sanders. A sweet and kind man, great father and provider. Art died in April of 1996. Like my own Dad, he spent 4 years in the US Navy in the South Pacific during World War II. Ruth and Art had 5 children--and I married their first child (and prettiest)--Linda Rose.

We also lit candles for my Mom and Dad. Dad (Robert P. Coughlin) would turn 87 years old this coming Tuesday if he were still alive. Dad was the discoverer of the Shrine, and he and I used to help out there many years ago (I remember when we helped cut down a gigantic tree on the Shrine property in the early 1960's). A funny memory: Dad truly believed that the Shrine's spring water was a healing force. He drank as much of it as he could. Mom would save some of this water to sprinkle around the house when storms threatened

We also said prayers and lit candles for our immediate family and for our extended family, especially for those who are ill, like Jack Pendergast.

The Good Lord will bring safety, peace, health, and protection to those we prayed for. Prayers do not go unanswered.

Final Thoughts on Bishop Lennon's Closing of Churches in the Dioces of Cleveland

I have been an active, practicing Catholic for 6 decades. My family has been Catholic probably from the days of St. Patrick and St. Brendan in Ireland, some 1500 to 1600 years! I attended Catholic grade school, St. William's, high school, St. Joe's, and college, the University of Notre Dame. I have continued to read on theological and religious issues my entire adult life. In other words, I have some level of authority to talk about my Church, a Church I love and treasure.

I think a stealth effect of Bishop Richard Lennon's closing of 50+ parishes (some historic treasures!) is a loss of faith in the structure of the Church. To think that bishop has the power to arbitrarily do such a thing, with no need to consult, no real mechanism to appeal, no checks and balances to his enormous power. It is as if the bishop is a feudal prince. It is said all the time that the Church is no democracy. Wow, that is an understatement! It strikes me that the Church is un-American, so contrary to many of our core values. Again, I know that the Church does not have to be American. Really, it should be better than America, more just, better behaved, more principled. The Church is no democracy, but during mass today, with attendance so stunningly sparse that our pastor commented on it in the homily, I wonder if people are voting with their feet.

I fear for the future of the Church that I love.

Farewell to the Christmas Season; Baptism of Carolan

Yesterday, with the celebration of the Baptism of Jesus, the official Christmas Season of the Catholic Church ended. The theme of baptism makes me think of something humorous that happened at the baptism of my daughter Carolan (who is now 23 years old). A few weeks before Carolan was baptized, she had a severe cold and was having some trouble breathing. It probably was no big deal, but it frightened me and I thought about my early religious training about Baptism and Original Sin. I thought to myself: What if Carolan dies before she's baptized? She would spend eternity in Limbo, unable to ever get into Heaven.

You'd think I would know better. These thoughts went against my basic belief in the goodness of God. Anyway, here is what I did. Remembering that any Christian could baptize, I took a cup of water, poured it over Carolan's head, and said, "Carolan, I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost." No one saw this baptism: it was between me and Carolan and God.

Weeks later we came to the church baptism of Carolan. We had this wonderful priest at St. Clare's in Berea, Kentucky. His name escapes me right now, but I remember he was 6 foot 10 inches tall, probably one of the tallest priests in the world. Oddly, before the ceremony, Father asked me if Carolan had ever been baptized. I have no idea why he asked that; I've never seen that question posed before. I gulped, and fessed up my story about worrying about Carolan's health and surreptitiously baptizing her myself. So when it came time for the public church baptism, the priest said, in an aside whisper, "If you are not already baptized . . ." And then the priest continued in his loud, public voice, "I baptize you, Carolan Ruth, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

Another wonderful feature of that baptism is that my friend (and former priest) Guy Patrick, one of the world's great human beings, sang with me a beautiful song from Fiddler on the Roof during the ceremony, "May the Lord Protect and Defend You." (Here's a link to the lyrics: http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/fiddlerontheroof/sabbathprayer.htm). One great line from that song is "May you be like Ruth and like Esther." This line was especially poignant, because Carolan's Grandmother, Ruth Sanders, was in the congregation. We deeply miss Grandma Sanders, who died so suddenly in the spring of 2007.

Here is a poem for Christmas, which we now say goodbye to. The poem was written by a great Notre Dame professor (and renowned drunk, alas), Frank O'Malley--a man so graced and so flawed:


Let the Christbrand Burst!

Let the Christbrand burst!
Let the Christbrand blazon!
Dartle whitely under the hearth-fire,
Unwind the wind, turn the thunderer,
And never, never thinning,
Forfend fear.
Flare up smartly, fix, flex, bless, inspire,
Instar the time, sear the sorcerer,
And never, never sparing,
Save all year.

Let the Christbrand Burst!
Let the Christbrand blazon!

Frank O’Malley
University of Notre Dame