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One time I was standing at the foot of a whole terrace of bleachers, in a burnished wooden gymnasium, in Australia. It was late in the morning. The day was warm. The doors of the gymnasium were open and insects drifted in and out, mostly out, I noticed, probably because they were bored by the speaker. Certainly some of the hundred boys in the bleachers were bored by the speaker. Some of the boys seemed riveted by what I was saying about grace and pain but more of them were riveted by the two rows of demure young ladies sitting up front in their beautiful magenta school uniforms. My talk burbled along like a creek and finally it trickled to a close and I asked the boys if they had any questions which indeed they did and for a while the questions came fast and furious mostly about sports and girls, I noticed. Then a tall thin quiet lad raised his hand. Sir, you said that as an American you owed us honesty and you would answer any question as straightforwardly as possible. I said that? Sir, yes. Fair enough. Fire away. Sir, you elected a skinny young black guy President of the United States? Pause. Everyone stopped mumbling and snickering and snapped to attention. My host, a tall brawny teacher who had about half an ounce of fat on him, clapped his eye on the boy like a huge hand. Even the insects paused. Yes, yes we did, I said cautiously, not knowing where the boy was going here — politics? race? razzing Americans? Sir, that is cool. Exhale generally. Yes, yes it is, I said. Sir, that is very cool, he said, and then everyone laughed, one of those delicious huge collective laughs that is a little bit relief and a lot just surprise and happiness that something funny had been said that no one expected at all, isn’t that sort of breaking wave of a collective laugh a moment to savor when it happens? We are back, I said, when the wave had ebbed a little, and everyone looked a little startled, to hear me start droning on again, but something had been lit, and I don’t think I could have stopped if I had wanted to. We are back, I said. We are trying to be a great country again. We have been a bully because we were scared but now we are back. We’re not perfect. We’ll never be perfect. You’re not perfect either. But we both sure can try. We can try to be great not in power but in ideas and hope and dreams and laughter and generosity and grace. We can try that. We can try to be the countries that go past race and violence and greed and power. We can try, at least. No one else is as strong and young and free as we are, not that I can see. We can dream big. I think our countries are cousins in that way. Yes, we elected a skinny young black guy as President of the United States. That means the world to me and not for the reason you think, because he’s black or a Democrat or any of that. It means the world to me because I love the idea of my country and I love the guts and grace of so many of the people in it. We are tired of violence and lies and by God we are back in the game. I don’t care who we elect, what party and what race and what gender, as long as he or she pours every inch or his or her energy into the best most generous most creative most merciful least vengeful least violent most inventive America that could ever be. I think we just voted to be us again. We voted to be the very best kind of America we can be. We might totally screw it up again and this young guy might get booted out right quick but as of right now we are back. Did that answer your question? Sir, yes, he said, with just a beautiful hint of a smile, not a whole smile. Yes, it did. g Brian Doyle (bdoyle@up.edu) is the editor of this magazine. A collection of his short stories called Bin Laden’s Bald Spot will be published in October by Red Hen Press.
PHOTO: CORI ALEXANDER ’07
WE ARE BACK
F E A T U R E S 16 / The Late Mr. Bin Laden, by Brian Doyle Brilliant, charismatic, wealthy...and twisted. What a waste of glorious gifts. 18 / Villanous, by Dave Devine ’97 Former Villa Maria residents muse and remember and fall down laughing. page 16
24 / Saint Andre, photographs by Steve Scardina A year ago this fall the Congregation of Holy Cross celebrated the canonization of its first recognized saint ever, Brother Andre Bessette, of Montreal. The streets of Rome were electric. 28 / Why I Am a Priest, by Father Charlie Gordon, C.S.C. Twenty reasons for having one of the hardest and coolest jobs there is. 32 / Don’t Forget, by Ana Maria Spagna Things can change. Do not despair. Hold hands against the darkness. Walk on. page 18
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4 / Big Paul Waldschmidt and a Polish playwright friend 5 / The cheerful beaming funny gentle treasure Father Pru, C.S.C. 6 / Why do we poison our children? Why is that? 7 / In the seething holy burble of Holy Redeemer School 8 / “This gem of a school”: Diarmuid O’Scannlain’s Commencement speech
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9 / The ebullient witty new vice president Father Mark Poorman, C.S.C. 10 / “But no one came”: Robert Thalhofer ’50 on discovering Dachau 11 / Schoenfeldt Series guest Steve Forbert’s phoneographs 12 / “To afflict and comfort”: journalist Steve Duin in The Beacon 13 / The young Billy Gable at the Meier and Frank necktie counter, 1922 14 / Sports, starring World Cup energy boost Megan Rapinoe ’10 15 / University news and notes and feats and fetes page 28
37 / The beloved Father John Delaunay, C.S.C. 48 / “Have the grace to say thanks”: Air Force General Dana Atkins ’77 49 / The hands that delivered the Red Sox a great centerfielder at last
THE UNIVERSITY OF PORTLAND MAGAZINE page 32
Cover: The Reverend Philip McDevitt, by Thomas Eakins, 1901. Our warm thanks to the Snite Museum of Art at the University of Notre Dame, and especially to Robert Smogor for his help.
Autumn 2011: Vol. 30, No. 3 President: Rev. E. William Beauchamp, C.S.C. Founding Editor: John Soisson Editor: Brian Doyle Tall Lanky Brilliance and Designer: Joseph Erceg ’55 Glue and Tape: Matt Erceg Associate Editors: Marc Covert ’93 & Amy Shelly Harrington ’95 Contributing Editors: Louis Masson, Sue Säfve, Terry Favero, Mary Beebe Portland is published quarterly by the University of Portland. Copyright ©2011 by the University of Portland. All rights reserved. Editorial offices are located in Waldschmidt Hall, 5000 N. Willamette Boulevard, Portland, Oregon 97203-5798. Telephone (503) 943-7202, fax (503) 943-7178, e-mail address: bdoyle@up.edu, Web site: http://www.up.edu/portland. Third-class postage paid at Portland, OR 97203. Canada Post International Publications Mail Product — Sales Agreement No. 40037899. Canadian Mail Distribution Information — Express Messenger International: PO Box 25058, London, Ontario, Canada N6C 6A8. Printed in the USA. Opinions expressed in Portland are those of the individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the University administration. Postmaster: Send address changes to Portland, The University of Portland Magazine, 5000 N. Willamette Boulevard, Portland, OR 97203-5798.
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L E T T E R S WOMEN AT WAR It was shockingly clear from the article “Women At War” in your Spring 2011 issue that with 190,000 women who’ve served in Iraq and Afghanistan suffering excessive post-traumatic stress disorder, homelessness, sexual trauma, and dealing with horrific wounds, that women should not be sent to war... nor should men. Mary Ryan-Hotchkiss Portland, Oregon I usually don’t write letters to the editor. I usually don’t read Portland Magazine carefully. But for some reason I read the Summer 2011 editorial essay (“Boots”). I read that little essay seven times before realizing that: (1) That’s the best Portland Magazine article I’ve ever read. (2) That’s the best magazine article I’ve ever read. (3) That’s the best commentary about war I’ve ever read. (4) I was crying after the seventh reading. I am a University of Portland graduate, class of 1973. I protested against the war in Vietnam. I attended several anti-war gatherings, mostly to meet girls, but I kept my distance from the real radical element. I thought I was an intellectual against an unpopular war. But alas, I was, as my communications professor Bob Fulford dubbed me, a cynic. And a cynic I remain. The war of words seems more
complex than the wars in the desert. This is the reason why this essay touched me so: I understood every word of it. Yes, war does unexpected things to people. For me mostly it has prevented me from truly believing in people. But the late Fulford always taught us that one should not be afraid to put down one’s thoughts on a piece of paper, and that has saved me from turning my back completely on what is going on out there. I thank Portland Magazine for making me believe in people again. Keep up the good work. Dennis Miyahara ’73 U.S. Dept of Homeland Security After reading Eileen Garvin’s essay “How to be a Sister” (Summer 2011), I write, as the mother of a sweet sixyear-old boy with autism and sensory processing difficulties, to concur that certainly there is pain, much of it. This cannot be understated. But our family is truly just like any family, our son like any other little boy. Our days also contain much happiness and laughter, and both of our children instill in their parents heartbursting pride and inspiration. My husband and I are blessed with two wonderful boys and every day we are grateful for our many blessings. What has been truly devastating is not the day-to-
A quiet letter from John Roscoe ’94: his bodhisattva son Evan.
day realities of living with a disability that is cruel, though that is of course a struggle. It is the knowledge that despite the fact that there is decades-old evidence of proven therapies for autism and sensory processing difficulties, our son, like so many others, is denied this care by insurance companies, despite all the suffering, and by state and federal legislatures that allows this situation to continue. Barbara Hafer Portland, Oregon
FRÖHLICHE FRAU In 1971, I made my first trip to Salzburg with Fr. Paul Waldschmidt, C.S.C., I was 17 years old when I met an Austrian woman with big hair, a crooked smile, and that white coat. Her children, Matthias and Gabi, giggled shyly behind her skirt. Her husband, Herr Strobl, was noticeably absent since he worked long hours at the Stiegl brewery. He had no first name. Neither did she. She was called, simply, Frau Strobl. She had just completed her first year of employment with the newly opened University Center at Neutorstrasse 39 and lived in the basement. She and her family adored Waldy, and he worshipped her as his housekeeper and confidante. He would spend four weeks every spring and fall for years in the loving embrace of the Strobl family. I returned to Salzburg for two semesters in 1973-74. The stern and loving Frau Strobl comforted me through my homesickness and nurtured me in the Austrian ways. True affection needs few words. On my final day in Salzburg that year, I sought her out for our last farewell as I headed to the train station. She looked directly into my eyes and said John, komm nach Hause! (“John, come home!”). And so I do. Her welcoming invitation to return to her family and city sustained
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LETTERS POLICY We are delighted by testy or tender letters. Send them to bdoyle@up.edu. me through many difficult years of medical studies. I vowed to return regularly with a whole tribe of family and friends. In 1980, she met my future wife, Diana, and signaled her approval. We spent New Year’s with her and her family in 1984. Once our children became old enough, we trekked over to spend an Austrian Christmas with the Strobls in 2002. And I happened to be in Salzburg on the day the old Center closed in 1994. It was the only time I’ve seen Frau Strobl weep, as she silently carried her memories to the new Center. The years with the University of Portland have been kind to Frau Strobl. She is as strong as ever. She and Herr Strobl recently arose at four in the morning to walk 20 kilometers from Mondsee to Maria Plain for Mass, and then returned home by foot. As I get hairier, heavier, and grayer, she remains timeless in her appearance, fashion, and fitness. And that white coat! When I first donned one as an intern, I thought I looked like Frau Strobl... When I am near Salzburg, I have a bad habit of sauntering into the Strobl home in Mondsee or at the Center unannounced. I am always greeted as the prodigal son returned with a strong hug and a swift Stiegl bier after she scolds me for not calling ahead. We catch up on our families and our careers. And we reminisce about our youth and Bishop Waldschmidt. That fact is this: I love Frau Strobl and she loves me. And that has made all the difference in my life. John Adler, M.D., ’76 Cincinnati, Ohio
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“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet… then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can…” Thus Herman Melville, whose grandfather Thomas proudly participated in the Tea Party melee. ¶ Dedicated September 25, 1998: Corrado Hall, named for the deft golfer Al Corrado ’55 and his wife Sue. “I am not famous, I don’t have much advice, and I’ll be brief,” said Al in his legendary 2002 Commencement speech. “How can you serve? What can you give? How will you love? What are your extraordinary talents and how will you bring them to bear on evil and hunger and poverty and greed? I believe that the University of Portland at its best is a seed, a kernel, a nugget inside you. It can change your life, if you let it, if you are open to it, if you are not too ironic and skeptical and cynical to think with your heart.” Wow.
STUDENT LIFE Among the 830 freshmen (from a record 12,200 applications) flooding onto campus this fall: 20 valedictorians from the Portland metro area, and some 40 from elsewhere in the US and abroad. Total enrollment this year, including master’s students and the few nursing doctorate students, is also a record, 3,600. This year’s freshman class has an average gpa of 3.69 and a 1230
THE UNIVERSITY On campus September 22, talking about his work as the Vatican’s astronomer for many years: the ebullient Father George Coyne, SJ, also a professor at the University of Arizona. Riveting guy, George; he’s a scholar of young stars and cosmic dust, and has an asteroid named for him: 14429 Coyne. He is the guest of the energetic Garaventa Center for Catholic Life, an excellent target for Campaign gifts, hint hint. ¶ Also on tap from the Garaventa Center this fall: Scholar William Cook, on Saint Francis of Assisi (September 29), Franciscan Sister Antona Ebo, talking about the day she marched through Alabama with Martin Luther King (October 4), Mark Chopko delivering the annual Red Mass Lecture on the law (October 17, with the Red Mass in the Chapel of Christ the Teacher), Servite Sister Joyce Rupp offering a spiritual retreat (October 21), and Christine Vladimiroff, former CEO of Chicago’s Second Harvest food bank network (which has fed 26 million people), on Christian social teaching (October 27). Info: 503.943.7702. ¶ The new financial vice president this fall: Alan Timmins ’81, most recently president of AVI BioPharma, and an accounting professor at George Fox University. ¶ The new executive vice president: the personable Father Mark Poorman, C.S.C.; see page 9.
THE SCHOOLS Starting her first year as engineering dean: Trinidadian Sharon Jones, the first in her family to attend college (Columbia, in New York). Her goals, she says: encourage more women to be engineers (about 20% of engineers are female), connect much more with engineering alumni and local industry, develop way more studyabroad and entrepreneurship energies for students, and jazz the school’s graduate programs, which are increasingly becoming “necessary credentials,” as she says. Want to meet her? Come to campus Oct. 7. Info: 503.943.7314. ¶ New dean of the first new medical school in Oregon in a century: Paula Crone ’86, of Western University of Health Sciences, in Lebanon, which opens this fall with 108 students of osteopathy. ¶ Guests of the English department’s reading series this year: poet Nance Van Winckel (October 10), fictioneer Maile Meloy (November 7), shortstoryist Mary Rechner (January 31), and Oregon’s Poet Laureate (we love to write that), the courtly Paulann Petersen (March 21). All events are 7:30 p.m. in BC 163; email Herman Asarnow for details, asarnow@up.edu.
ARTS & LETTERS On campus September 27: National Book Award winner Tim Egan, as the University’s fall Schoenfeldt Series Visiting Writer, reading from his work in Hunt Theater; his The Worst Hard Time is a searing book about the Dust Bowl years in mid-America from 1930 to 1940. ¶ On campus February 27 as the spring Schoenfeldt Series guest: Pulitzer Prize winner Jeff Eugenides, author of the terrific novel Middlesex. Excellent target for Campaign gifts in memory of its late founders, brother and sister Father Art
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Schoenfeldt and Sue Fields. Info: bdoyle@up.edu. ¶ On stage in Hunt Theater later this year: George Bernard Shaw’s Arms and the Man (November), Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (February), and Will Shakespeare’s Midsummer’s Night’s Dream (April). ¶ In Portland and environs in October for shows: Dave Basaraba ’03 and his rising band The Northstar Session. See thenorthstarsession.com. ¶ Published this fall, a collection of essays by the best Holy Cross writer alive: Father LeRoy Clementich, the legendary flying priest of Alaska. Seasons of the Spirit, Corby Books. Excellent Christmas present…
FROM THE PAST Issued November 2, 1917, England’s Balfour Declaration — 67 words that took ten months and seven drafts, as scholar Dom Monahan ’67 has observed, and still shape the world. November 2 is celebrated as Balfour Day in Israel to this day. “His Majesty's government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing nonJewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.” People forget the second half of that remark. ¶ Born September 21, 1934, in Montreal, a Jewish kid whose first band was The Buckskin Boys: the polymath Leonard Cohen. ¶ Born November 22, 1921, in suburban New York: Jacob Cohen, better known to history as the late odd genius Rodney Dangerfield.
DRAWINGS BY LISA KASER
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SAT score. Wow. ¶ What with all those freshmen, all living on campus, and an increasingly residential student body, we are crowded again, just after opening Fields and Schoenfeldt halls. Got $10 million for a new residence hall? They’re such vibrant little villages. See rise.up.edu.
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At right, Bishop Paul Waldschmidt, C.S.C., who was president of the University from 1962 to 1978, with a friend of his from their theology studies, a Polish playwright named Karol Wojtyla. Legend has it that His Holiness Pope John Paul II teased Waldy that if Waldy had studied harder, their roles would be reversed, and Waldy replied jovially that the last job in the world he’d want is one where you have to wear a summer suit. This may be apocryphal.
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PHOTO COURTESY OF DAVID PICKETT ‘05
The irrepressible avuncular gregarious beaming campus legend Father Pru, now resident at Holy Cross House (Notre Dame, Indiana 46556, in case you want to pop him a note to say hey). Can you make Rise Campaign gifts to celebrate the salty soul of a priest who served here for almost fifty years, and knew and liked everyone, and never had a hard word or a mean thought, and essentially is what Holy Cross means to the University community worldwide? Why, sure. There’s the Father Pru Scholarship, for example, or funds to help the studentathletes he so loved. Call Diane Dickey at 503.943.8130, dickey@up.edu., rise.up.edu. Tell her Pru sent you. That will make her laugh.
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WHY DO WE POISON OUR KIDS? From a new book called Environmental Science and Theology in Dialogue, by University professors Steve Kolmes (biology) and Russ Butkus (theology). The book, from Orbis Press, follows Reading the Bible, Transforming Conflict, from University professors Sr. Carol Dempsey (theology) and Elayne Shapiro (communication studies). Perhaps the most important and unknown environmental sign of our times is the impact of toxic exposures on the lives of infants and children. This story involves long time lags, multiple chemicals and routes of exposure, and materials we cannot easily see or sense that nonetheless diminish the capacities and futures of our own children. The toxic materials involved are astoundingly varied and numerous. The chemical industry worldwide is a multi-trillion dollar annual endeavor producing roughly 75,000 different compounds of varying danger. They enter our environment in many ways, from smokestack emissions to intentional widescale applications of sprays. Infants and children living in different regions and circumstances all have some things in common. Their vulnerability to toxic exposure begins with the prenatal exchange of materials between mother and child through the umbilical cord and continues through breast-feeding. As infants develop motor skills such as thumbsucking and crawling, they are exposed to common household contaminants, including dust, and play with toys that often end up in their mouth. The typical activities of children expose them to toxic contamination that includes heavy metals and pesticides. In addition, infants and children grow rapidly, which makes them especially susceptible to acquiring large amounts of toxic material into their developing bodies; they are also susceptible to the development of pediatric cancer. Throughout their infant and childhood years brain development takes place as a rapid and elaborate process that is threatened if neurotoxins are present. Infants and children are also acutely vulnerable to toxins because their bodily defenses are incomplete.
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Their immature blood-brain barrier allows toxins to pass from their circulatory system into their central nervous system. In addition, children have lower levels of the chemical binding proteins that protect the vital organs of adults from toxins. Infant biochemistry is also less capable of detoxifying and excreting poisons than that of an adult. Such developmental characteristics, combined with a child’s longer lifespan, increase the time for negative consequences to develop, creating an unusual potential for environmental toxins to impact human health.
‘Wasco mask,’ by the superb courtly Oregon artist Lillian Pitt ’10 hon., whose work will be exhibited this fall in Buckley Center Gallery on campus. Researchers analyzed the umbilical cord blood of ten newborn babies in the United States in 2004, revealing a total of 287 chemicals found in their umbilical cord blood. “Of the 287 chemicals detected, 180 cause cancer in humans or animals, 217 are toxic to the brain and nervous system, and 208 cause birth defects or abnormal development in animal tests,” noted the report. Among the common problems: lead exposure (which has been proven to reduce children’s measured IQs), urban air pollution (which also causes lower IQ scores), heavy metals and chlorinated solvents in the air (associated with autism-spectrum disorders), and living near Federal Toxics Release Inventory (TRI) sites, which are federally licensed to release toxins at specified maximum levels. A study of childhood brain cancer in the eastern United States showed increased risks of brain cancer, diagnosed before age five, for children of mothers who lived within one mile of a TRI facility. Childhood asthma doubled in the United States between 1982 and 1993. Portland 6
Approximately 2.3 million U.S. children with asthma live in parts of the country with unhealthy ozone levels in the air, 2.1 million children with asthma live in areas with high levels of particulate pollution for part of the year, and 1.3 million children with asthma live in areas with high levels of particulate pollution for all of the year. Air pollution has also been linked to bronchitis, childhood respiratory allergies, and asthma-related emergency room visits and hospital admissions. The widespread use of pesticides and herbicides can turn rural childhood terrain into a dangerous place. Childhood leukemia has been linked to maternal occupational exposure to pesticides, as has a greater incidence of birth defects and autism — autism spectrum disorders have increased tenfold in the last thirty years. Life in the suburbs is similarly hazardous: perfluorinated compounds (PFCs) are a component of nonstick coatings, fabric, leather, food packaging, and other products. PFC use in the home translates to PFC accumulation in our bodies. PFCs have been linked to liver and testicular cancer, immune system disorders, birth defects, and other medical issues. Even children in the Arctic are not immune from risk. DDE, a breakdown product of DDT, a pesticide now banned in the United States but persistent, is widely distributed around the world by wind, water, and food chains, and still heavily used around the world for malaria control. Fish consumption, especially of predatory fish, is linked to higher maternal tissue and milk levels of DDE as well as other fat soluble contaminants like PCBs. The egregious situation for Alaskan natives and Canadian Inuit is that they have excessive blood DDE levels, associated with their diet of marine mammals and predatory fish, despite the fact that they live in a region that never used DDT to protect crops. DDE passes readily from mother to child through nursing and across the placenta. Inuit women have high levels of PCBs in their bodies and breast milk. If children are the greatest treasures of our nation and society and species, why do we allow them to be poisoned like this? We know beyond that shadow of a doubt that the manner in which we live is damaging the smallest and most innocent among us. Why do we let that happen while arguing about politics? n
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REDEMPTIVE Holy Redeemer Parish, a (heroic) stone’s throw from The Bluff, celebrates its tenth year of affiliation with the University’s Congregation of Holy Cross men this autumn, and we salute the birthday with these lovely caught moments by Portland photographer Bob Kerns. Some 40 of the parish school’s 200 families boast University alumni, 15 University faculty and staff have children at the school, and 24 Holy Cross men have served the parish, including current beaming pastor Father John Dougherty ’83. Salud.
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“A GEM OF A SCHOOL…” From Diarmuid Fionntain O’Scannlain’s 2011 Commencement speech in May, delivered with his usual honesty and quiet wit. O’Scannlain, who also received an honorary doctorate, is a judge on the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit. In our increasingly secular society, your decision to live and to study here on The Bluff is to be applauded as much as is your graduation. Each one of you could have attended essentially any college, and yet all of you chose this one. And what likely drew you here is what makes this nurturing campus so special: its unwavering devotion to its mission of bridging faith and reason. In today’s society, your choice of school could hardly be more significant. At universities across the country — large and small, public and private — we see a growing and unsettling theme: a dedication to so-called “prestige” over mission. The prominence of annual rankings from publications like the U.S. News & World Report has inspired schools to chase students through statistics rather than through substance — although, mind you, the University of Portland has done well even on this scorecard. And as the lure of stature carries with it the promise of enhanced revenue, the sad result is that many once faithbased institutions are now less inclined towards their religious tradition than towards their moral neutrality. The University of Portland, however, cherishes and promotes its Catholic heritage no less today than it did over a century ago, when it was founded to spread the great work of the Congregation of the Holy Cross to the west coast. The University’s Catholicism, of course, manifests itself in many concrete ways, obvious to even the least observant visitor: The University’s leadership is filled with members of the clergy, the campus is adorned beautifully with ecclesiastical symbols, and the dining hall even swaps out chicken strips for fishsticks on Fridays during Lent. But the faithbased tradition serves a much deeper, if at first subtler, purpose in a University of Portland education. It strives to connect the manifold roles the modern university plays — teacher, landlord, social director, chaperone,
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and even chef — through a single overarching mission. These are ambitious pursuits that cannot be fulfilled simply through textbooks or lectures. Rather, these noble goals are reflected in everything the University does, from the faculty it hires, to the classes it offers, to its code of conduct and its student organizations. Nearly everything at the University is intricately bound to its faith tradition, and nowhere else do students experience such a unified purpose to their college education. Skeptics may argue that the University’s linkage to faith takes away from its academic pursuits. The less charitable may claim that such an education is even closed-minded. But, as you have seen firsthand, such views wildly misstate reality. In truth, a recourse to religious tradition does not take certain viewpoints out of the classroom, but rather it opens the classroom doors to subjects rarely found in the secular academy. One does not have to strain to understand the benefits of religious and philo-
sophical discourse to a fuller contemplation of many of today’s greatest controversies, from worldwide poverty to domestic clashes over sex or morality. Since its earliest days, the Church has been a leader in confronting the world’s most pressing concerns, and we would be fools to ignore this rich intellectual heritage when looking upon the crises of our own time. And a quick glance at the University’s course offerings, which include everything from neurobiology to postcolonial literature, should put to rest any misguided fears that a Catholic education is a narrow one. Instead, a faith-centered education is a complete education, in a way that the purely secular could never be. As the Vatican has reminded us, “there cannot be two parallel lives in their existence: on the one hand, the socalled ‘spiritual life,’ with its values and demands; and on the other, the so-called ‘secular life,’ that is, life in a family, at work, in social responsibilities, in the responsibilities of public life and in culture.” Believers of all religious traditions well know that our spiritual lives are inseparable from Portland 8
the world in which we live, and the efforts of many universities to divorce the two are both naive, and ultimately, in vain. Indeed, even in my role as a federal judge, where above all I am called to uphold the rule of law, my understanding of justice and morality grow from, and are enriched by, my own faith. And, as you go forward in life, students of all faiths will be greatly served by the honesty of this University’s beliefs, and by the openness and fullness of its engagement with faith through education. Indeed, the import of the University’s mission is best measured in the service of its students and graduates rather than in the numbers of clergy that adorn its masthead. Nowhere is this more evident than in the works and influence of University of Portland students…and we have never needed graduates like yourselves more than we do today. Just as universities are quietly abandoning their deeper principles for self-centered prestige, so too has the modern mindset become taken by individualism. And our fascination with individualism could not be more poorly timed, as we look out to a world overrun by widespread catastrophe and unrest. Brilliance is only as useful as the ends to which it is employed; the greatest ambitions will do little for our world if they are not supported by a deeper devotion to the human family. We need young people dedicated to these noble goals, and we need schools committed to educating and forming them; in short, we need you, and we need schools like this great university. I am heartened that this gem of a school is leading the way in solving the most challenging issues of our day, from famine to climate change. And most of all, I am heartened that the University of Portland is forging its success without surrendering its faith-based traditions. And so should you be heartened that on this joyous day, this great university and you, its graduates of various faiths, are a striking testament to the lasting role of religion in modern society and in higher education. May you continue to grow in stature without shrinking in faith. May you be an example to those many schools and students that have lost their way. And above all, may you always remember the rich legacy of scholarship and sacrifice that you inherit today, and may you continue to share it with others for years to come. Godspeed. n
LARRY MILAN
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Father Mark Poorman, C.S.C. Veep, Professor, Hall Priest
JERRY HART
Brand-new executive vice president as of July. Theology professor, thirty years of campus ministry and student affairs and teaching at Notre Dame. Doctorate in ethics. High school in Illinois, where his dad was president of Lincoln Land Community College in Springfield. Had a sort of “intellectual conversion to Christianity,” as he says, grinning, as a junior at the University of Illinois — “a period of intense search, being astonished by Thomas Merton, majoring in everything for a week each…” Ordained in 1982. Wrote a book on how to listen for and seize upon moral hinge points in conversations, basically. Lover of spiritual literature: Flannery O’Connor, Elie Wiesel, Tobias Wolff, Andre Dubus. His own writing these days? “Homilies — stories to capture listeners, catch their imaginations to connect to the gospels. That’s a high calling, and all too easy to do it poorly. I have found that the best spiritual stories are often the least religious, and that what passes for theology can sometimes get in the way of epiphany…” Dreams for his time on The Bluff? “First, be a good Holy Cross priest — for example, after twenty-five years it's hard to imagine not living in a residence hall. It's what so many of us CSCs do. I love living with students, being present and alert for them. Second, help build a team of faculty and staff who love their vocation here and are devoted to the exceedingly bright future of the University. Third, teach. I’d love to teach theology and ethics and character formation to classes mixed with lots of curious engineers and scientists and business majors and nurses. Fourth, pour my efforts into the amazing creativity of spiritual life here, to help push that deeper and wider, to bring it to the broadest possible audience. I'd love to start a sort of Character Project here — an idea that eventually involves all students, all alumni, all friends, in looking at values, decisions, habits, virtues, vices, the creation and celebration of character. That’s finally the crucial thing we try to teach here, under everything else, isn’t it? I’d love to make a dent there somehow — wouldn’t that be cool, when we are known nationally as the university most absorbed in shaping and creating character in its students and friends?”
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BUT NO ONE CAME From Company A! Combat Engineers Remember World War II, by Robert Thalhofer ’50 (in photo). Among other adventures, Bob’s company found Hermann Goering’s $200 million stash of stolen art at Berchtesgaden and captured the Nazis’ atomic scientists at Hechingen. And then there was this. Major Reid Draffen: “Early on the morning of 30 April we reached the outskirts of Munich and started toward Dachau. After a few miles, we came upon the Dachau camp. It had been liberated the previous day. The sight was incomprehensible. Freight cars were filled with bodies in bloody heaps. No more than skin and bones, many had been cut down by machine guns as some of the prisoners tried to escape. We entered the building housing the crematorium. We saw bodies piled high on both sides of the cremation furnaces. Some of the furnaces still held partly consumed bodies. On one side of the room were naked bodies ready for the ovens. On the other side was a stack of bodies still dressed in their striped uniforms. I became violently sick. “The worst was yet to come. In rooms adjoining the furnaces were the living dead, limp and starving, lying under filthy blankets covered in human excrement. Some who died while I was in the room still haunt me. I found that there is nothing more horrifying than looking into the dying eyes of a starving person. Until I entered Dachau, I thought I had seen the worst of war. “We returned to Munich with the forward troops of the 45th and 42nd Divisions. We went into the metropolitan area and were greeted by cheering civilians. Having just came from Dachau, I was not impressed. We set up our staff in a hotel that was not in use. At 2100, an officer called to inform us that we had to surrender the hotel so that it could be used to house some important German prisoners — Field Marshall Kesselring, General Wolf, and their aides. Major Bryant exploded: ‘You can take my commission before I will give up this hotel for a bunch of Nazis.’ About an hour later, we heard a shot in the lobby. It seems that one of our older enlisted men, a First World War veteran, had been sitting in the lobby;
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when he saw a group of Germans enter, all in uniform, he opened fire, just missing an American military police major, who was furious. I burst out laughing. We were let off the hook when General Eisenhower overruled everyone.” John Boll: “When we got to the camp in Dachau, we found that it had just been liberated by units of the 42nd and 45th Infantry Divisions and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team — who were Japanese Americans. Everything was total confusion. The prisoners were wandering all over the place, dressed in cheap cottonstriped pants and jackets. The stripes were baby blue on a white background. The Nazis had obviously run out of fuel to fire their crematory furnaces. There were bodies stacked like cordwood perpendicular to and along the fence, which was topped with
barbed wire. The bodies had been stripped of clothing and were stacked very neatly, head to toe, as high as the eaves of the barracks, approximately 12 feet high, and 150 to 200 feet along the fence. There must have been over a thousand corpses in those stacks. It was winter and below freezing so the bodies hadn’t deteriorated. But their physical condition still haunts me. They obviously had starved to death. They were nothing but skin and bones. Their heads were skulls covered by a layer of skin. We could see the bones in their arms and legs; their elbows and knees were like knobs on a club. The prisoners that were walking around looked very little better than those near death. We wondered how in the world they could still walk. They were walking skeletons who were beyond tragic. What to do under such circumstances? Portland 10
We gave them some K rations (our best) and cigarettes apiece. Then we sent them on their separate ways. (Each day in our rations, we were issued a pack of three cigarettes, a stick of gum and a small bar of chocolate.) I never really understood why we were fighting until we experienced Dachau. I have never since been able to get it out of my mind.” Bob Bussell: “I recall seeing several dead German soldiers, including one SS trooper with a bayonet still stuck in his chest. The odor was unbearable. I have a vivid recollection of the crematory. There were two fuel rooms located on each side of the ovens. Each room contained over 300 bodies. Several box cars on a railroad siding were full of bodies — men, women, and children — left there by the Nazis to starve to death. We picked up three Royal Air Force officers who had been prisoners, ‘borrowed’ a private German car in the town of Dachau, filled the tank with gasoline from our supplement tank, and sent them home.” Sergeant Clyde Lobdill: “We arrived at Dachau 29 Apr at about 1200. We got to the camp just as the prisoners were coming out of the main gate. The guards, trying to escape the wrath of the prisoners, were just ahead of them. The prisoners beat the guards over the head with metal rods until half their heads were gone. Dead guards were lying all over the ground of the small park located between the main gate of the prison and the business area across the street. I saw several prisoners go into a shoe store and come back with pairs of shoes tied together and slung around their necks. One prisoner grabbed a German civilian riding past on a bicycle. I guess the prisoner was hoping to ride the bicycle back to his home, wherever that might be. “There were thirty-nine boxcars on the railroad siding next to the camp, so we checked them out. They were loaded with the naked corpses of men. These men had all starved to death. The guards didn’t have time to cremate them before we arrived. They were stacked, five and six deep, in the box cars. The bodies had gray-colored skin stretched over their bones. The faces of the top bodies on the piles were the shape of a skull. Their mouths were open as if they were gasping for air. Their eyes were open and had a look of despair. They appeared to be looking for someone to come to their help; but no one came...” n
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The wonderful Mississippi songwriter Steve Forbert was on campus in October, as a guest of the University’s Schoenfeldt Writers Series, and it turns out Steve is a nut for taking cell-phone photographs of “all the little things which of course are not little at all if you see them as the lovely pieces of art they are, really,” as he says. The image that knocked him out the most was the gloriously caramelled apples in Bauccio Commons. “Now that is beautiful,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to eat them or your teeth would fall out, but aren’t they beautiful?”
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TO AFFLICT & COMFORT From an essay by The Oregonian columnist Steve Duin in The Beacon this spring; Duin taught a writing class on The Bluff this year, and was asked by editor Rosemary Peters to contribute to the Voice, a section of the paper recruiting student media staff. Duin is the author of several books, among them the epic classic Comics: Between the Panels and the lovely essay collection Father Time. “Afflict the comfortable. Comfort the afflicted.” That’s the advice of an alcoholic in the film Inherit the Wind. He’s a drunk with a moral center. It’s the duty and responsibility of a journalist, insists Gene Kelly’s character — at least any journalist worth his or her weight in salt and dignity. And it is as true in 2011 as it was in
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1960, when the movie was made. If justice is to prevail, if truth will out, the comfortable — the smug, the corrupt, the shameless — must be afflicted, and the afflicted — the poor, the lost, the heartbroken — must be comforted. That’s where you come in. As newspapers wither and journalism loses its shape and power, the planet is falling out of balance. There is trouble in the heartland. As Bruce Springsteen, America’s poet laureate, has said: “Poor man wanna be rich, rich man wanna be king, and a king ain’t satisfied till he rules everything…” And each time I look around, desperate for reinforcements, there are fewer and fewer college students available to confront the afflictions of the poor and the comforts of the king. Fewer investigative reporters. Fewer videographers. Fewer feature writers. Fewer columnists worth a hill of beans.
University students on a Center for Entrepreneurship trip to China last year proudly brandishing the best non-daily college newspaper in Oregon. Can you make a Campaign gift to support The Beacon? Sure. The sizzling E-Scholars program? Absolutely. See rise.up.edu.
Fresh out of Wake Forest University, I took my first newspaper job in 1976, almost 35 years ago. I stayed in the business during its glory years, when newspapers made so much money from classified ads and supermarket supplements that they could throw money and reporters at every story in sight, even that curious break-in at the Watergate Hotel. By and large, that money is gone, and many of the best reporters have retired, disappeared into the belly of blogs that no one reads, or signed on to promote the very institutions they were once paid to monitor. It is no coincidence that the comfortable have rarely been so comfortable. The afflicted have never had so much company. At 56, I don’t have many years left to impact that equation. At 18 or 19 or 20, you’re perfectly positioned to take the baton. The Beacon, the University of Portland’s weekly newspaper, has numerous opportunities to get you involved in the timely, and timeless, exercise of afflicting the comfortable and comforting the afflicted. The jobs don’t pay all that much. But they will involve you, in unique and novel ways, in your campus, your church, your college, and your community. Those jobs will introduce you to both the comfortable and the afflicted, allowing you to decide for yourself which fraternity deserves your empathy and which warrants your vigilance. Neither the editors of The Beacon nor I can promise you there’s still a life-long career in this enterprise, of the kind that I have cherished. But if you are inspired to sign on, the afflicted will sleep a little easier and the comfortable will not. And there are far worse epitaphs for your gravestone. n And speaking of The Beacon, here’s a sweet Campaign story: former Beacon reporter Kevin Damore ’03 went on to a career in newspapers and was writing for The Santa Clarita Valley Signal when he died in March, just thirty years old. His friends and family decided to make gifts directly to The Beacon in his honor: $1,335, all told, so that University students riveted by stories could afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted. Our prayers for Kevin’s soul and for his bereft family. To make any sort of gift to the Rise Campaign, call Diane Dickey, 503.943.8130, or write her at dickey@up.edu.
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Born Billy Gable in Ohio, and baptized Catholic before his mom died young, the lanky young man later known as Clark Gable arrived in Oregon at age 21. He worked as a logger in Bend, sold neckties at Meier and Frank in Portland, and acted with a troupe in Astoria before finally making it to Hollywood at age 23. This photo, by Frank Sterrett (grandfather of the University’s news director, John Furey) catches the King just before he began to ascend. Can you point your Campaign gifts at the University’s terrific theater program, which hatches superb young actors and directors at a startling rate? Frankly, my dear, of course. Call Diane Dickey at 503.943.8130, dickey@up.edu.
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O N S P O R T S World Cup Finalists Megan Rapinoe and Stephanie Lopez Cox were in Germany this summer with the American national team at the World Cup; Christine Sinclair and Sophie Schmidt played for Canada; and Rapinoe became a Youtube star not only for her deft play but for singing Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” into a field mike after a goal. Hilarious. Somehow only a Pilot alumna would have such fun at such a high level of play, you know? Honored by the NCAA’s Division One with its lifetime achievement award: the dry-witted Joe Etzel ’60, Pilot athletic director from 1970-2004, longtime baseball coach, and star pitcher, too, as a student; his .741 winning percentage is still the best ever for a University hurler. Good on you, Joseph. Women’s Soccer The usual incredibly challenging schedule for the Pilots (ranked seventh nationally as the season opened), who will host many of the nation’s best teams, including new WCC member BYU (on October 6) and perennial rival Santa Clara (October 21). Back for the A billion more soccer fans now grin at the name Megan Rapinoe ’10, after watching her stellar play in the World Cup this summer; Rapinoe’s perfect cross to Abby Wambach for a lastminute score against Brazil will be famous forever in soccer, and her humor and energy were electric for the Americans, who lost to Japan in a thrilling overtime final.
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women are All-American striker Danielle Foxhoven and all-WCC goalie Hailee DeYoung, among many cagy veterans and eager rookies. See portlandpilots.com. Men’s Soccer On the Major League Soccer all-star team this year: Pilot alumni Kasey Keller ’91 (still the best keeper in American soccer history, isn’t that a great line?), and Heath Pearce ’05. ¶ Back for the men, ranked 25th in the nation last year, are defenders WCC Freshman of the Year Steven Evans and all-WCC Ryan Kawulok; among the new faces is Georgian Mitchell Lurie, who played with the U.S. Under-18 Men’s National Team this spring. For tickets and schedules see portlandpilots.com. Women’s Basketball Back for the Pilots will be leading scorer and rebounder Natalie Day (15 points and 7 boards a game), who again played for her mother’s native Virgin Islands in the Caribbean Basketball Championships this summer, and deft point guard ReZina Teclemariam. Among the new faces: 6’4” center Erin Boettcher, from the University of New Mexico, and quicksilver walk-on freshman Colleen Olinger, who helped her Notre Dame High win a Pennsylvania state title. Colleen’s big brother, we observe with a smile, is Kenna Hall’s parish priest Father Gerry Olinger, C.S.C. Men’s Basketball Back for the men is all-WCC senior guard Nemanja Mitrovic (13.5 points per game, and sixth in the nation from long range, .463), who spent the summer with the Canadian National Team; among the new faces are much-anticipated freshman guard Kevin Bailey, Central Catholic High sharpshooter David Carr, and 6’10” Dutch National Team player Thomas van der Mars, from Gouda. He may succeed Kramer Knutson ’11, who will be playing pro with BBC Nyon in Switzerland. Cross Country Back for the men, ranked as high as eighth nationally last year, are All-American Trevor Dunbar, all-West Coast Lars Erik Malde, and sophomore David Perry, who finished eighth in the national junior championships; the men are gunning for their 33rd consecutive West Coast Conference title, and seventh straiught appearance in the NCAA championship meet. You know, the national bang for the buck award is coach Rob Conner’s forevermore. ¶ The Pilot women, who finished ninth in the West last year, are aiming at their 20th WCC title; they Portland 14
have won 12 of the last 15. Star Natalie Hemphill ’11, we note with pride, earned a Fulbright scholarship to study in Spain; she and all-WCC soccer player Jessica Tsao (to England) were among ten University students earning the postgraduate awards. Cool. Volleyball The Pilots return five starters, among them all-WCC Kati Hronek, Marissa Plummer, and Ariel Usher. New faces: Sam Moore (Newport, Oregon), Bea Loper (Mission Viejo, California), Jacqueline Rodriguez (Warrenville, Illinois), Emily Liger (Everett, Washington), and Katie Mardesich (Central Catholic High in Portland, where she helped earn two state titles). Hard to replace: Danielle Dupar, the league defensive player of the year, who set the Pilot season record for digs with 560. That’s immense effort. Thanks, Danielle. Rowing Coach Bill Zack (president of the Collegiate Rowing Coaches Association, and interestingly the play-by-play announcer for nine NCAA championships), and assistant coach Audrey Coon (twice national champion while rowing for Western Washington University), open the University’s first varsity rowing season in 110 years this fall. “We’ll have 60 women competing for probably 40 spots, our first event is a Race for the Cure October 2 on the Willamette, and we dream of our boathouse in the future on the new riverfront campus,” said Zack cheerfully. For more on the team, see portlandpilots.com. Baseball All-American closer Chris Dennis graduated in May, having earned a school-record 24 saves in two seasons, and was drafted by the Colorado Rockies in June; also drafted by the big leagues were Pilot recruits Caleb Whalen (Milwaukee Brewers), Travis Radke (Cincinnati Reds), and Tyler Glasnow and Kody Watts (Pittsburgh Pirates). The Pilots finished third in the WCC and 24-30 overall; they start up again in February. All-Academic 12 University studentathletes were named to the West Coast Conference spring AllAcademic team: seven baseballers (among them athletic All-American Chris Dennis), three women’s tennis players (Stephanie Fuchs, Valeska Hoath, and Lacey Pflibsen), men’s tennisist Geoff Hernandez, and golfer McKennon O’Rourke. The teams honor students who earn at least a 3.2 grade point average. FOR TICKETS & SCHEDULES SEE PORTLANDPILOTS.COM
O N B R I E F LY RISE! Among recent fascinating Campaign gifts: $3,000 from Dr. David Chamberland ’94 of Medford, Oregon, to help new engineering dean Sharon Jones start an Engineering World Health chapter on The Bluff; $65,605 from Jack Teske of California toward scholarships honoring his late wife Lois and brother Lloyd (the cheerful Father Lloyd Teske, C.S.C., who used to count the grammar mistakes we made every issue and send us his list in the mail, sigh); $104,000 from the late Norris and Margaret Melcher of Illinois, to start a fund for student summer study abroad; and $8,000 for this magazine, from Pudjiono Djojonegoro ’80 of Jakarta. There are a million ways to make a creative gift to the Campaign; you can bend your gift anywhere here, really and truly. Call Diane Dickey at 503.943.8130, dickey@up.edu. Heck — call her now, blow her mind. The Molly Hightower Award, named for the effervescent 2009 alumna who was working at a Haitian orphanage when the earthquake killed her, went to Taylor Bergmann ’11, who is starting a shirt company to help “the more than a million Kenyan kids who are school age but can’t afford to go,” he said. “Molly’s shoes are too big to fill, but I’ll try.” Ten Fulbrights were awarded to University seniors this year, most in the United States among our peers; the young alumni receive free years of study in Cambodia, England, Spain, and Germany. University students have earned 40 Fulbright awards in the last decade. “We really do think of our graduates as agents of hope and creativity in the world, and this is a particularly refreshing and influential way to bring the University’s mission into play internationally,” noted University president Father Bill Beauchamp, direct as usual. Or Here’s a Story: Heading to USC for an accounting master’s: Jennifer Brown ’11. Left home at age 14. Was sleeping in her car at age 19. Eight surgeries for health problems. Star student on The Bluff. “In my 30 years as a teacher I came across very few people as committed to their studies and to achieving success as Jen Brown,” says business professor Larry Lewis. Wow. The United States Province of Priests and Brothers of the Congregation of Holy Cross was born July 1,
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when the small Eastern Province merged with the large Indiana Province (from whence come all of the University’s Holy Cross men). There are more than 500 men in the order’s U.S. Province, among them 102 seminarians. The order serves four colleges (Portland, Notre Dame, Stonehill, and King’s), and 15 parishes, and sends men to Mexico, Chile, Peru, and Africa. All told there are some 1,500 Holy Cross men in 16 countries around the world. For more see the cool new website: holycrossusa.org. The University’s Pacific Alliance for Catholic Education program counted 38 students on campus this summer; this fall they are off to Alaska (Fairbanks), Utah (Draper and Ogden), California (Sacramento), Washington (Yakima), and Oregon (Portland and Astoria) to teach in Catholic schools and live in communal spiritually minded PACE houses. PACE students earn a master’s in teaching from the University while actually teaching and earning salaries; of the 68 PACE alumni currently teaching all over America, 31 teach in Portland metro. Cool program, now imitated by 14 other American colleges and universities. Excellent Campaign target, ahem. The National Honor Roll for Community Service again includes
the University of Portland, the only Oregon school honored continuously by the President’s National and Community Service project since the list’s start in 2006. Some 1,515 University students donated community service last year, for a total of 54,200 hours (which adds up to 2,258 days, or more than six years of service, wow). The primary vehicle for all this labor on The Bluff is the Moreau Center, which coordinates tutoring in local schools and jails, neighborhood clean-ups, visiting hospices, serving food to the homeless, and various social justice “plunges,” among much else. The University’s New Trading Room and Financial Research Lab opened in Franz Hall this year, allowing students in all disciplines to analyze real-time financial market data movements and place trades. The center has nine Bloomberg terminals, which give students the opportunity to view real-time analysis and historical research of business and financial security. The facility is the largest of its kind at any university in the West. Students are also able to become Bloomberg-certified through the lab, “giving our graduates an advantage in the job marketplace,” noted business dean Robin Anderson. Campaign target? O dear yes. See rise.up.edu.
Grecia Lora ’11 in Nicaragua this summer with 20 other University students and staffers, who all chipped in to help build a school in San Ramon, among other adventures. The University's Moreau Center has nine other immersion projects like this. Superb Campaign targets? Why, yes: see rise.up.edu.
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By Brian Doyle
nd what could anyone add to the ocean of comment and opinion and conclusion and musing and snarling and vengeful remarks published and shouted about the recent death of Mr O. bin Laden, late of Abbottabad, Pakistan, shot to death in his bedroom, perhaps with his television remote in his hand, perhaps moments after he finished coloring his beard black again for a video production scheduled for the morning? Not much, especially in my case, after nearly ten years of quiet rage that he murdered three of my friends on September 11, cackling over their deaths, a cackle I will never forget as long as I live. And yet, and yet, I find myself thinking how very sad; not his death, in which the bullets he had so often assigned to others found him at last, but his life, wasted on a foolish and murderous idea, causing such epic wreckage, and perhaps in the end doing far more damage to his beloved religion than anyone else in its long and often admirable history. I say this as a Catholic man, well aware that my religion tried bin Laden’s idea, and found it a roaring failure, responsible for uncountable deaths of innocent souls; we call our collective campaign of savagery the Crusades, and even the most rabid among Catholics today cannot say with a straight face that our attacks on the infidel succeeded in anything except gaining the Church a well-deserved reputation for militant murder; and from those bloody years the Church sensibly retreated back mostly to a business model, spending the next seven hundred years as one of the largest, richest, most influential, riveting, and troubled corporations in human history. Entepreneurial Catholic individuals murdered and robbed the pagans of the New World, certainly, but as a religion, rather than murder other established religions we sought to outpopulate them, ignore them, negotiate complex truces, or, as we did recently with the Anglicans, offer them readmission to the mother ship from which years ago they disembarked, in their case because of the sexual politics of kings, one of the great human spectator sports. In a real sense, after the Crusades finally petered to their ignominious end, we matured as a reAutumn 2011 17
ligion, we realized that the sword was the worst of persuasive devices, and we turned to other hinges of history, some brilliant, like the public relations geniuses Mother Teresa of India, Karol Wojtyła of Poland, Dorothy Day of Brooklyn, and the elementary school system on which much of modern Catholicism was built. Today, long centuries after we waged holy war against people who called God other names than we did, there are a billion Catholics in the world, and two billion followers of the devout Jew Yesuah ben Joseph. It was the fervent dream of the late Mr. bin Laden that an epic war arise between the nearly two billion followers of Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullah, blessed be his name, and the followers of Yesuah ben Joseph, blessed be his name, and this fiery dream, born in 1998 with the murder of Kenyan and Tanzanian innocents, consumed twenty years of what must have been a very bright intellect, an often-attested-to personal charisma, and a mountainous personal fortune, and again I find myself thinking how sad this was, how misguided, how twisted. What a waste of gifts given to that man by the Creator! Imagine, for a moment, the same man alert to humor, perhaps the greatest weapon of all. Imagine the same man, humorless in this life, infused by the holy merriment of a John XXIII, a Dalai Lama, a Desmond Tutu. Imagine that same poor soul, consumed day and night by smoldering hate and worries about rehearsing his lines for his video performances, alert to the power of mercy, apology, simplicity, conversation, common ground. Imagine what he might have done for the religion he loved, had he bent his capacious talents to witty connection rather than wanton destruction. Imagine, for a moment, that he might have become a great man, rather than the preening thug he was, wrapped in a shawl, obsessed with himself, hiding in a dark room, waiting for the explosive death he must have known would someday be his fate. What a waste. n Brian Doyle is the editor of this magazine, and the author most recently of Grace Notes, a collection of essays, from ACTA Publications in Chicago.
“HATCHET,” BY DAVID SCOTT EVANS (1847-1898), COURTESY OF THE SNITE MUSEUM OF ART, NOTRE DAME, INDIANA. OUR WARM THANKS TO ROBERT SMOGOR FOR HIS HELP.
The Late Mister Bin Laden: A Note A
Villanous Notes on a seething hilarious heaving home of a hall. Collected by Dave Devine
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onestly? Villa Maria is a squat beige shoebox of a building. It’s not architecturally interesting or historically relevant. No Gothic flourishes or soaring sunlit atriums. The rooms aren’t roomy and the hallways aren’t hallowed. But the place has something you could never pay an architect to draft or a contractor to install. There is heart in it. There are hallways that thrum with life and laughter and love. There is spirit to spare. Young men on the edge of adulthood shot through with optimism and loyalty. There are late-night debates and early morning alarm-clock arguments. There is an unbridled, improbable passion for everything from shopping cart races to women’s soccer matches. Which is to say there’s a Drum Squad. And a Bishop. And an inflatable Gorilla. And one year, a bed loft so astonishing that students hiked across campus to see it. Most guys who lived in Villa will tell you it wasn’t a dorm, it was a home, and that seems about right. A home with a hopeful heart.
All these funny stories come to mind, stories of inane behavior and ridiculous plans, but my first memory of Villa was pulling up to the front door with my parents, a scared and nervous freshman, and seeing smiling faces as the Welcome Crew came to help us unload the car. I’ll never forget those faces. Father Joe Corpora wanted to set a new tone for the start of his second year as hall director, and the tone began with our hall staff. He instructed us to inspect every desk, chair, pillow, outlet, toothbrush holder, and window shade — every inch of floor and wall space. We measured bed frames, counted tiles, snipped carpet snags. A complete inventory of every room, top to bottom. That’s how we found the Bishop. The basement rooms were filled with junk: abandoned bicycles, crates of outdated textbooks, forgotten
gadgets. The Bishop was in a storage closet with some books and broken lamps. We all had the same thought as soon as we saw it: the Bishop belongs in the Villa Lounge. We carried him up — no easy task given his size and weight. Father Joe inquired around campus about the statue’s origins, but no one seemed to know anything. So the Bishop found a home in Villa. He was written into the Villa constitution as a community member, and no hall meeting was official unless the Bishop was present. He annually took his place at Villa’s entrance during freshman move-in, dressed ac-
Can you make Rise Campaign gifts to help Villa students study, travel, get internships, pay tuition, and etc.? Sure. See rise.up.edu. Or you could point your gift to the Villa Maria Award Scholarship, started by University mathematics professor Craig Swinyard ’98 and Moreau Center staffer Patrick Ell ’89 “to sustain leadership in Villa,” says Craig, “to help out one Villan a year who has lived in the hall at least two years and wants to stay and keep the legacy alive for the younger guys. We’ve raised $13,000 so far from former Villans, we presented the first award to junior Sean Ducey this year, and we’d love to get enough gifts to push it over $50,000 and secure it in perpetuity. Folks can email me at swinyard@up.edu for details.” And this from Sean Ducey: “I am blessed to be able to live in Villa...to be honest it’s hard going home for the summer because I am so used to living with my 150 brothers here...”
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cording to that year’s theme. He often sported a Villa Maria t-shirt or scarf. We tried to haul him to a soccer game in 1988, but only made it to the baseball field before realizing it was a terrible idea. And then one summer, inexplicably, University workers were sent to Villa to remove the Bishop from the lounge. He’s in some office in the Physical Plant now. It still feels like a kidnapping to us. An alumnus and former Villan tells us his son has been diagnosed with leukemia. The family desperately needed to find a bone marrow donor. Once a Villan, always a Villan. The guys from Villa started a spark that spread across campus. By the time we were done, the people from the bone marrow registry who came to campus hoping to sign up donors ran out of registration forms. That’s Villa. A Villan named Chris Woo lived in the stairwell triple on the first floor. He built a loft one summer that you raised and lowered on a winch. It was a major production to bring it down each night. The whole thing took a while to ascend and descend. People came from all over campus to see it. Oxfam was a huge event for Villans. Other dorms never did as much. We planned and raised money all year for Oxfam. Some people called it the “Penny Contest,” because all the money had to be turned in using pennies. Villa made a special deal with the local bank, because there was supposedly a limit on the number of pennies they could release at any one time. The final weigh-in was held in the Commons, and we literally drove a pickup truck full of guys carrying fabric bags of pennies across campus. The table broke under the weight of all the pennies. How many feet of fabric would we need to make kilts for the Drum
Squad? A bolt sounded about right. It sounded like a cool amount. We’ll take a bolt. That’s what we said to the lady at the fabric store near campus. She looked at us like we were crazy, inquired about our intentions, and then produced the appropriate amount of green tartan to make skirts for twenty guys on a Saturday morning. Our KiltMaking Workshop, an official hall event, began ambitiously enough, with instructions on sewing and hemming and other things we knew nothing about. We cut and trimmed and took hilarious measurements. Of course, with time running out and the first women’s soccer game of the season looming, our workshop devolved into a scramble for belts and shoelaces and pieces of rope as guys lashed fabric to their waists and roared off toward the field in a testosterone lather. It was the drums that mattered
anyway, and you could hear them clear across The Bluff.
Woözloft that played the UP Battle of the Bands that year.
The Villa Gorilla was born in the summer of 1998. It was my first few weeks as a hall director and we were two days from opening the doors to incoming freshmen. I’d called a staff meeting to discuss our welcoming plans and one of the guys on the crew blurted out, “We should get one of those gigantic King Kongs you see at car lots when you’re driving down the freeway, and put it on our roof!” I figured the idea was completely ludicrous, the University would never sign off on it, it certainly would be ridiculously expensive, and we had absolutely no clue where to get a gorilla. So we did it.
Construction on Corrado Hall had just finished, making a new quad of three dorms in the northwest corner of campus, and the school year was about to start. The powers-that-be apparently couldn’t think of a suitable name for the new quad, but it seemed obvious to us. Our welcome crew painted a huge sheet of plywood in Villa blue and green that warmly welcomed residents of all three dorms to the Villa Quad. Minutes before freshmen and their parents arrived, the billboard was mounted on beams and anchored into the sod. One Corraan was furious. He stormed out, pried the sign from its foundation, and hurled it back toward Villa. After he got distracted by incoming residents, we replanted it firmly at Villa’s front door, so our freshmen would know the name of their new quad. That was a good day.
Chris Woo’s loft was so legendary on campus that it spawned a band called
I think in four years of living in Villa, we locked our door maybe twice a year. That’s Villa. I remember when Damien died. He’d been missing for days, and nobody had seen him. He used to work the Villa front desk; we all knew him, and it wasn’t like him to simply disappear. We eventually found out he’d fallen down a cliff on the Oregon coast after stepping out of his car near the edge. Our hall director, our RA, and some other Villans drove out to the place where he died and left a cross there. Then we all pooled our money and bought Damien a gravestone, which we put in the Villa lawn. It’s still there. Every year the University delivered phone books, one to a dorm room. Since they were rarely used, most were hauled off to the Physical Plant to be recycled. One Villan knew about this. Throughout the night, he and his accomplices stacked the phone books in front of my door, up to the ceiling and across the hall, so that even if I pushed, the pile wouldn’t budge. They weighed the pile later: two tons. That’s Villa. I lived in Villa for eleven years, the longest-tenured Villan ever. It was an amazing and grace-filled time. I had the privilege of celebrating Mass with the guys and their friends each Tuesday night, including my Mass of Thanksgiving after being ordained. I encountered our guys in all the joys and struggles of their lives as college Portland 20
NUTTINESS BY MICHAEL McCLAFFERTY ’95
students. The late night knocks on the door: Father Ed, can I talk to you for a minute? However, the most humbling experience has been the way I’ve become part of the fabric of their lives after they graduated. I’ve lost count of all the Villa weddings I’ve had the honor to preside at, or the growing number of Villa children I’ve baptized. I have not lost track of the number of funerals for Villa men — two — nor the number of Villa men whose children I have buried — one. In many ways, the men of Villa helped me become the priest I am today. Chris Woo: If I’d spent as much time going to class as I did working on that loft, I might have saved my parents the additional $20,000 it took to fund my fifth year at the University. We were launching water balloons with a sling from the patio behind the Villa lounge. A few of us were in the second floor windows, facing the quad and using a cell phone to call in tactical strikes to the crew in back. The hall director from Corrado was watching the balloons as they flew over Villa. Unfortunately he was out of range.
Then we ran off to one of our rooms and cracked open the Yellow Pages. This was only days before freshman arrival, so we had no idea what we’d come up with. We called one of the numbers, told the guy what we were looking for, and he started rattling off the items he still had available. When he got to “Gorilla,” we knew that was it. Oh, yes. I was a transfer student, moving into Villa a few weeks into the first semester. I was kind of nervous moving into a dorm, because I’d lived by myself and didn’t know how I’d fit in. As I pulled my car up to the front doors, there were a few guys sitting at the front door. Before I could even get out of my car, they came over to help. I’ll never forget that. When the University built the Villa Quad, they transformed a plain parking lot into a lush mound of poorly draining grass, too fragile at the time for playing sports. Fortunately, the wide concrete path around the quad made an ideal track for chariot races in shopping carts. Freshman year, the Villa Man Auction.
I guess I found my real self in Villa. There was a serious disagreement in the hall, two guys at each other’s throats. A couple of Villans stepped in and arranged a means of resolving the issue: Race to the baseball field and back from the front entrance of Villa. The involved parties agreed to terms and “training” commenced; one guy bought his first pair of running shoes ever, and the other guy continued to eat a lot of Taco Bell. The race was scheduled for the following Sunday night, and the organizers gave it their best Don King effort. Mehling was notified. Crowds were rallied. The first guy dressed in white. His opponent dressed in black. Neither was particularly athletic. The guy in white took a commanding lead on the way out, with an impartial Villan confirming that each participant touched the baseball fence. Our man in white was fading desperately in the homestretch, but he still managed to trip across the line and nose his adversary. Of course, there was post-race quibbling and allegations of cheating, claims of impropriety and demands for a do-over. Thus was born Villa Night at the Races.
A group of friends dreamed up a skit called “Painful Love.” The premise was simple: Wax various parts of our bodies and have girls bid on them for $50 a strip. The girl who bought one of my strips of wax is now my fiancée. We’re getting married in October. Several Villans decided that good wine cost too much and they ended up fermenting their own “wine,” using Welch’s grape juice, baker’s yeast, sugar, and empty Carlo Rossi gallon jugs. The beverage went by different names, but was usually referred to as The Purple. It looked like ink, tasted like dirty oil, and had an alcohol percentage which varied significantly by the batch. After choking down the first glass, you felt pretty good, so you’d order up a second. Typically then you’d wake up the next afternoon wondering how you got that cut on your elbow. I thought Villa would be a place to live, but it was a community. I didn’t volunteer for military service, but some of my Villa brothers did. I awoke many mornings, sun still not up, to find my roommate counting off push-ups or returning soaked from another rainy PT session. One fall morning I was on my way to an early class when I ducked into the television lounge near the front entrance — a common habit to check the status of a ball game or see what movie was showing. But instead of finding a few Villans slouched in the sofas taking in SportsCenter, I saw a roomful of sober and silent faces, all staring at smoke-filled chaos in lower Manhattan. I don’t remember my classes that day, but I will never forget hall Mass that night. The basement chapel was packed. Students leaned against the walls and the emergency exit was propped open to allow in the cool September air. Circled around the altar, hands linked with cadets still in formal military dress, we prayed the Our Father and offered signs of peace with an uncommon sincerity. Years later we’re still at war, still praying for those soldiers. I think Chris Woo made a replica of his loft out of balsa wood and attached it to his mortarboard when he walked at graduation. That loft was crazy. People are still talking about it. All these memories, they just keep flooding back... n
I remember the Gorilla somewhat differently. My friend Shawn said we should get some big inflatable object and put it on the roof. That was it.
Dave Devine ’97 works for the School of Education. Autumn 2011 23
Saint André... Celebrated a year ago this autumn, in Saint Peter’s Square in ancient seething Rome, and all over the Catholic world: the acknowledgement that Brother Andre Bessette, of the Congregation of Holy Cross in North America, was indeed a saint, and should be spoken of that way: as of October 17 last year, he is Saint Andre Bessette, C.S.C. Andre, who spent his whole life as a porter, barber, undertaker, chauffeur, and interlocutor to Saint Joseph for healing, is the first acknowledged saint in the order’s 174-year history – a history much enlivened by 110 years of Holy Cross men at the University of Portland. We suspect that the order’s founder, Blessed Basil Moreau, C.S.C., will eventually become the second acknowledged Holy Cross saint.
...the first Holy Cross saint The subtle Oregon photographer Steve Scardina, in Rome that day to catch the canonization celebration, also caught this lovely image of folks waiting to be admitted to the Square; but isn’t this, in a real sense, a photograph of Catholicism itself? Tall and short, aged and dewy, thin and not so, shabby and suave, we hold hands against the dark, grateful for grace, determined to use of divine gifts to advance the mysterious gift of What Is...to help the University marshal its collective gifts against the dark, you might consider a Campaign gift toward, say, the Saint Andre Chapel, or the Garaventa Center for American Catholicism, or scholarships for students bent on working for others, or celebrating the sweet legacy of Holy Cross on The Bluff...see rise.up.edu.
Why I Am a Priest Twenty reasons for having one of the hardest and coolest jobs there is.
I
love being a priest for all the usual reasons, which are excellent, and I revere them, but here are some other reasons. I love being a priest because it is great to be something that has been around so long that it is practically hard-wired into the human brain. There have probably been people recognizable as priests about as long as there have been people recognizable as people. If a guy wandered out of the Pleistocene epoch and into a church and saw me behind the altar he’d likely have a pretty good idea what I was and what I was doing. And if Origen of Alexandria or Theodore of Mopsuestia or Eleanor of Aquitaine or Shakespeare of Avon or Shakespeare’s tailor walked into the church they would know exactly what I was and exactly what I was doing. This matters to me because I’m a romantic by nature and find it moving to think about. More importantly, because a priest is such an ancient thing to be, an encounter with one touches very deep chords in the human mind and heart. Strains of longing, hope, and dread are sounded, as are any number of other feelings, some for which there are not yet names, and doubtless some for which the names have been forgotten. They are feelings as old and profound as those stirred by an encounter with a solar eclipse or a virgin queen. Once you are known to be a priest you are treated differently. Walk through an airport in clerical dress: a stranger might pull you aside and pour out a story of joy, grief, or repentance; and moments later you might receive from another passerby a glance of such unfathomable loathing that it makes you miss a step. Despite the unpleasant aspects, the thing I love about all this is that my meetings with
other people are freighted with possibility. The energy is there, at some level, for almost anything to happen. And God willing, what happens might be full of grace. I love being a priest because right now there are more than a billion people in the world for whom I’m not only a priest but also their priest. On the off chance that we ever meet, they will know what to make of me, and I will have a way to be with them. I love being a priest because I hear about miracles. Many people think miracles don’t happen, or are very rare, but this is only because people tend not to tell each other about their miracles. But they’ll tell a priest. I know a woman who was comforted by an angel and a man who was visited by the Blessed Virgin Mary. I know a woman whose beloved father died when she was barely out of her teens. When it happened, she turned to the scriptures for solace. She opened her Bible at random and read, “In place of your fathers will be your sons.” She was single then. Now she is married and has four children, all of them boys. That is her miracle. And then there are the conversion stories. I know a fellow who when he was a graduate student was teetering on the brink of faith. One night, while walking past the darkened shop windows of a deserted city street, he offered up a silent prayer: “God, if you are there, and if you care, please give me some kind of sign.” At that moment, a shabbily dressed man on a bicycle came around the corner riding in the opposite direction. As he passed, he looked the student in the eye and said, “God loves you.” Game, set, and match. I’ve spoken to a Chinese physicist who converted from atheism to Christianity because ice floats. He told me that every other liquid sinks when it Portland 28
freezes. If water sank when it froze, he assured me, the earth would be entirely lifeless. We exist because water behaves in this odd way. That, he said, cannot be a coincidence and so he believes in our Creator. I hear stories like these because people feel it’s okay to tell a priest things they would find awkward to say in public. Happily, there is a corollary to this instinct: It’s okay for a priest to say in public things that would be awkward for other people to say. As a priest, I have a kind of diplomatic immunity from the social taboos against talking about God, or anything else that really matters, in polite company. When I speak up I will at worst see an expression on someone’s face that seems to say, “Oh well, what do you expect? He is, after all, a priest.” I can speak badly, or I can speak deftly, but at least I’m free to have a go. What I love most about this special priestly license is the freedom it gives me to speak without irony. Almost invariably, when folks do speak about God in public, they hedge their remarks with protective ramparts of irony. That way no one can be certain that they really mean what they say, and if push comes to shove they can pass it all off as a joke. I love not joking. I love being able to speak about God simply and freely from the heart. I love being a priest because, years after the event, people will come up to me and tell me that something I said changed their lives. And more often than not, if I can remember the occasion they are referring to, what they heard is not what I meant to say. I suppose I could be bemused or even annoyed by this; instead I take it as welcome evidence that the Holy Spirit is using me as an instrument through which people hear what God wants them to hear. Akin to this are occasions when I
PHOTO: PASCAL MANOUKIAN / SYGMA / CORBIS
By Father Charles Gordon, C.S.C.
manage to say something useful during a pastoral encounter that I am dead certain I couldn’t have come up with on my own. Again, in those moments, the presence of the Holy Spirit seems palpable. And when I preside at the Eucharist I am the instrument of Christ, who is the real priest. I love being a priest because the Mass is a distillation of what it is to be human. In 1977 two Voyager spacecraft were launched carrying golden phonograph records. The records were designed to tell extra-terrestrials what human beings and human culture were like. A great deal of thought was given to what the records should contain. They could have saved a lot of trouble by simply making a recording of the Mass: it’s all there. After the Gospel and the Eucharistic Prayer what is there left to say about human nature? And as for culture, the Mass is imbued with cultural riches that reach back through the Middle Ages to ancient Rome and Athens to Mount Sinai and beyond. An epic poem or oratorio could be written about nearly every phrase and gesture. In fact, countless artists, knowingly or not, have taken inspiration from the themes, shape, and textures of the Mass. For instance, I teach a course about the Catholic novel. For years I have been telling my students that when they have an essay to write for class and are stumped for a topic, there are two questions that can be fruitfully discussed in relation to any Catholic novel. The first is, what is the good news that that the novel holds out? No matter how bleakly the human condition may be depicted in a Catholic novel, there will invariably be some element of hope on offer. The second question is whether the main character is ultimately saved. This fundamental theme in Catholic writing goes back at least as far as Everyman and the other morality plays of the fifteenth century. Whether the protagonist lives or dies is a secondary issue. The condition of his or her soul is what really matters. It has occurred to me only recently that these two questions correspond to the two main parts of the Mass. The good news is a kind of gospel. It is analogous to the Liturgy of the Word. The theme of whether the protagonist is saved is ultimately grounded in the Liturgy of the Eucharist in which the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ are offered so that sins may be forgiven. I was ordained at a time when people were having difficulty saying just what a priest was. Some of us were told we would have to go and find out for ourselves. I found my
answers in the parishes where I served. My teachers were devout women who had been members of their local churches for decades. They were spiritual heirs of the prophetess Anna and of the “widows” of New Testament times who practically constituted a distinct office in the Church. In their day these women had seen any number of priests come and go. If anyone knew what a priest was, they did. I set out to benefit from their wisdom. If they were pleased with me I couldn’t be going far wrong. I love being a priest because of them. And I love my order, my particular tribe of priests. I love the Congregation of Holy Cross because when you sit down to dinner in community there will be someone in the room who knows the answer to just about any question you can imagine. I love Holy Cross because in our community there are conversations and arguments that have been going on for thirty years or more. I love Holy Cross because the familiar, unprepossessing fellow sitting next to you is sometimes a world authority in his field, or has poured out his life in selfless service to the people of God, or both. I love Holy Cross because, in a crisis, a fellow with whom you’ve had an apparently casual, friendly relationship will be revealed as a well of wisdom and compassion. I love that several hundred good men have my back. I love the way we honor each other’s fathers and mothers and families. I love that Holy Cross hospitality is legendary. I love that Holy Cross men seem to know instinctively that you do not have to stand on your dignity in order to have dignity. We spend the greater part of our time together talking about sports or the next movie we want to see, but we are having those conversations with men who have given their lives over to service of Christ and his Church with unqualified generosity. They have known success, and had their share of failures, but they are still here, and they are still Christ’s men. I love spending time with men who are very different than me in the ways the world cares about, but with whom I am in deep agreement on the things that really matter. I love the high regard we have for good, hard work. I love to sing the Salve Regina with my Holy Cross brothers. I love the way you often discover, after knowing someone for a long time, that they have a profound devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. I’ve found over the years that this turns out to be true of most of the best of us. I love the transformation that seems to come over someone you think you know Autumn 2011 31
well, and perhaps have taken for granted, when you have the privilege of seeing him minister to God’s people, particularly in a moment of tragedy or great joy. I love the stories about the old days and the great and colorful men who did so much to make us who we are, but who now sleep in Christ. I love that we remember our beloved dead in prayer by name on the anniversary of their deaths. I love that a hundred years after I’m gone someone will be mentioning my name aloud in prayer. I love being able to visit the community cemetery where I will one day be buried myself. I love being able to work in places where we have been so long that the lifeblood of our community is in the bricks. I love to visit a Holy Cross community and its members somewhere in the world for the first time and feel instantly at home. I love the way that members of Holy Cross parishes and schools and universities feel about their priests. I love to visit our seminary and meet young people who remind me of Holy Cross men who have gone before, almost as if there were some kind of spiritually transmitted Holy Cross genetic code... n Father Charlie Gordon, C.S.C., is a professor of theology on The Bluff. Riveting guy, Charlie: taught in Kenya, earned his doctorate at Cambridge University, has read everything, loves terrible movies. His third annual comic debate with the editor of this magazine, hosted by the Garaventa Center in February.
Jazzing Catholic matters at the University with your Campaign gift? Easy as berry pie. Garaventa Center for American Catholicism. Catholic Studies program. Chapel of Christ the Teacher. Campus ministry spiritual retreats (for all students). Moreau Center for service, which helps students visit hospitals, jails, shelters, and all sorts of other active prayer. Dorothy Day Social Work Program on The Bluff. Various and sundry scholarships celebrating salty and graceful Catholic men and women. The Schoenfeldt Writers Series, started by the late Father Art Schoenfeldt, C.S.C. And on and on. Call Diane Dickey at 503.943.8130.
Don’t Forget Things! Can! Happen! By Ana Maria Spagna
T
he freedom march, such as it is, convenes at the bus plaza in stifling afternoon heat. The crowd is meager. Maybe fifty people, mostly black. Speaker after speaker stands to say a few words. Morris Thomas takes the microphone. His is the most famous face of the Tallahassee bus boycott, mainly because of a scheduling mishap. Thomas tells the story with good humor. He’d just returned from military service in North Africa in December 1956 and heard rumors of a mass integrated ride. He was eager to join in, but he showed up exactly one day after Klansmen had lined the streets with their hatchets and boycott leaders had called the ride off. Problem was, he hadn’t heard about the cancellation. Right here on the street corner where we stand waiting for the freedom march, Morris Thomas boarded an empty idling bus and sat in front. The bus driver promptly shut the bus off and climbed off, but not until a photographer captured an image that subsequently ended up in history books: the disgusted white driver, the steadfast Thomas. Because of the photo, even Thomas’s ill-planned gesture made a difference in the long run. The march, once it begins, is short. The politicians and preachers that lead the way are, as they were in 1956, all men. Off-key voices wade through successive verses of “We Shall Overcome.” Sunlight filters lazily through palm fronds. Bored motorcycle policemen
PHOTO: BETTMAN / CORBIS
munal. They lived it, too, many of them. They are thinking: come walk in my shoes! The age of the crowd is beginning to make more sense to me. They’re not just churchgoing age: they are the former fly-by-night martyrs, the former revolutionaries. They got in the way. “We must tell the stories over and over again so that our children and their children will never, ever forget what happened! In the sit-ins in Nashville in 1960, when we were sitting there waiting to be served, reading our books, doing our homework, writing a paper, and someone would come up and spit on us or put out lighted cigarettes in our hair, or pour Portland 34
hot water on us, we didn’t strike back because we’d come to accept nonviolence as a way of life...the moment I was taken to jail, I felt free. I felt liberated. I got in the way. And it’s time for another generation to find a way to get in the way!” “Amen!” He talks about the March on Washington. John Lewis is the only living survivor of the dozens who spoke at the podium that day. “There was so much hope, so much optimism...but eighteen days later, at a church in Birmingham, at the Seventeenth Street Baptist church, those four little girls were killed.” Silence.
PHOTO: JEFF HUTCHENS / GETTY
guard quiet intersections. I overhear a young black boy complaining that his feet hurt. Next to him a young white boy asks his mother if the church will have air conditioning. Only a few months ago I would have cringed at such a march, at such a pitiful show of outmoded liberal optimism, but I can’t anymore. If Morris Thomas can still believe, then I can. I sing in my best off-key voice and keep step with the others as we wind around the block toward Bethel Missionary Baptist Church, where tonight United States Congressman John Lewis will speak. The church is packed. It is beyond packed. I stand in the main aisle. A woman catches my eye and pats the wooden pew beside her. I sit and immediately scoot over to make room for more. The front of the church is lined with dark-suited black ministers, each of whom stands in turn at the pulpit to warm up the crowd like opening bands at a rock festival. This ritual is a page straight out of the civil rights movement, where other preachers always preceded Martin Luther King Jr. As each man preaches, the others fiddle with their suit coats or their programs, or they stare out the windows, letting out an occasional encouraging “Amen.” Only John Lewis, sitting front and center, remains silent. He nods solemnly, and his eyes do not move from the pulpit. Maybe this is a skill he’s learned from having been the camera-center for so long: to feign interest, to feign unflagging attention, to feign seriousness. Or maybe he is not feigning. Then John Lewis stands. “God is good!” he roars. “Yes, he is!” we reply. “I would ask my parents and grandparents and great grandparents,” says John Lewis, “why segregation? why racial discrimination?’ And they would say ‘Don’t get in the way! That’s the way it is. Don’t get in trouble.’ But I was inspired by Martin Luther King, by Rosa Parks, by C. K. Steele, to get in the way. And they got in the way!” “Amen!” “We celebrate the civil rights movement because it changed this nation. I don’t care what people say fifty years later. It is better in Tallahassee. It is better in the South. It is better in America. We brought about what I like to call a nonviolent revolution. And sometimes when I travel this country young people tell me, ‘Nothing has changed,’ and I tell them, ‘Come walk in my shoes and I’ll tell you what has changed!” The crowd cheers, a kind of cheering that feels intimate, visceral, com-
“It was a dark moment. But we had to move on. More than a thousand students came to work in voter-education drives, and one day three young men that I knew, Andrew Goldman and Michael Schwerner and James Chaney, they were arrested and taken to jail and turned them over to the Klan, and they were beaten and killed.” “My Lord!” “It was a sad and dark hour, but we didn’t give up.” “No, no!” “And I say to the young people today, these three men didn’t die in Vietnam! They didn’t die in the Middle East. They didn’t die in Africa or Central or South America. They died right here in our own country trying to get all our citizens to become participants in the democratic process! People ask why were we so concerned about what happened here in Florida in 2000? In Ohio in 2004? Because people died for the right to participate in the democratic process, died for the right to vote!” “Amen!” “So we went to Selma. They had a sheriff there by the name of Jim Clark. Sheriff Jim Clark had a nightstick on his left side and an electric cattle prod on the right. And he didn’t use it on cows. One day when it was my turn to take some voters down to the courthouse to try to get registered, Sheriff Clark met me at the top of the steps, and he said, ‘John Lewis, you are an outside agitator. You are the lowest form of humanity.’” Here John Lewis’s voice grows soft and stubborn as clay, more Southern, angrier. “I looked up at the sheriff, and I said, ‘Sheriff, I may be an agitator, but I’m not an outsider. I grew up ninety miles from here, and I’m going to stand here until these people are allowed to register to vote.’ Sheriff Clark said, ‘You’re under arrest.’ A week later, three hundred people were arrested, and one young man was killed by a state trooper. Because of what happened to him, we made a decision that we would march on Sunday, March 7, from Selma to Montgomery. We didn’t have guns or billy clubs; we had blankets and knapsacks. We started walking, two by two, onto the Pettus Bridge, the main bridge out of town.” Silence. “The man standing beside me was my friend Hosea Williams. Hosea looked down and saw this water and he said, ‘John can you swim?’ I said, ‘No, Hosea. Can you swim?’ ‘No.’ I said, ‘Well, there’s too much water down there. We’re not gonna swim, we’re not gonna jump, we’re going forward.’”
Lewis takes a moment to savor the suspense in Bethel Missionary Baptist. “I was wearing a backpack. I thought we were going to be in jail, so I wanted to have something to read. I had two books. I wanted to have something to eat. I had an apple and an orange. And since I was gonna be in jail in close contact with my friends, colleagues, and neighbors, I wanted to be able to brush my teeth, so I had toothpaste and a toothbrush. We get to the highest point on the bridge, and down below we saw a sea of blue Alabama State Troopers, and we continued to walk, and when we got within hearing distance of the state troopers a man spoke up. ‘This is an unlawful march,’ he said. ‘I give you three minutes to disperse and return to your church.’ In less than a minute and a half he said ‘Troopers advance!’”
Don’t forget we have a bridge to cross. Don’t forget those ordinary people... The crowd at Bethel Missionary Baptist slips beyond silence into stillness. Not even the fans are in motion. “We saw the men putting on their gas masks, and they came toward us, beating us, trampling us with horses. I was hit on the head with a nightstick. I thought I saw death. I thought I was going to die. I thought it was my last protest. Forty-one years later, I don’t quite understand how I made it across that bridge, back through the streets of Selma, back to that little church. But I do recall being back there. And someone asking me to say something. The church was full, more than two thousand people. I stood up and said, ‘I don’t understand how Brother Johnson can send troops to Vietnam but he can’t send troops to Selma to protect people whose only desire is to be able to vote.’ The next thing you knew I was in the hospital.” “On Monday morning Dr. King came by to visit me. He said, ‘Don’t worry. We will make it from Selma to Montgomery and we will pass the Voting Rights Act.’ Eight days later Johnson introduced the Voting Rights Act. So don’t tell me that when people start marching, when they start speaking out, things don’t change. I am a living witness.” Autumn 2011 35
This is the only point in the speech when John Lewis very nearly loses it. I wonder if the secret behind his anguish is not pain or humiliation but the fact that people like me can sit back and think it’s all futile. John Lewis takes a moment to compose himself, and then he hollers into the microphone. “Things! Can! Happen!” The church erupts. “Today we stand on the shoulders on of Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, the four little girls, the three civil rights workers. We stand on their shoulders. Don’t forget we have a bridge to cross. Don’t forget those ordinary people...” “Amen!” “Who gave all they had! Don’t forget!” “Amen!” “Don’t forget!” “Amen!” “It doesn’t matter if we are black Americans, or Asian Americans, Hispanic Americans, or Native Americans, or gay and lesbian Americans, we are one family! Don’t let anybody turn us against each other!” “No!” “We are brothers and sisters, and we must continue to recognize and respect the dignity and worth of all of God’s children! If someone had told me when I was sitting in, getting arrested, going to jail forty times; if someone had told me when I was left bloody and unconscious on the ground of the Greyhound bus station in Montgomery May of 1961 during the Freedom Rides; or if someone had told me when I had that concussion on the bridge at Selma, that one day I would be standing here...” “Amen!” “...celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the Tallahassee bus boycott, well, God is good. God is good!” The crowd is on its feet and it will stay there. “Don’t give up! Don’t give in! Keep your faith! Let the spirit of our mothers and fathers, and the spirit of God almighty, and the spirit of history be our guide!” In the pew I am praying for strength, praying shamelessly to not give up, not give in, to keep the faith. I prayed for a long time in that pew. I am still praying. We all are. n Ana Maria Spagna is the author of several books, among them Test Ride on the Sunnyland Bus, about her dad’s courage in the civil rights movement, from which this essay is adapted. See anamariaspagna.com. Our thanks and prayers.
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suitable for adults 18 and older. Limit ten players per team. Complimentary childcare will be available when requested in advance. RSVP by contacting alumni relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-8725867) or alumni@up.edu.
REUNION!
More than 1,060 alumni and guests were back on The Bluff in June – the star travelers this year were from New York, Alaska, and Hawaii – 3,000 miles to make reunion, thank you. Some highlights: the Farm To Fork dinner, with 17 gourmet courses on the lawn behind Bauccio Commons; the golf tournament at Pumpkin Ridge, which raised some healthy cash for the National Alumni Board Scholarship (great Campaign gift target; alumnus brewer Chris Oslin ’81’s handmade ales and alumna Susan Perri Lucht ’86’s lively band, CoverStory.
LiveitUP Reunion June2012
Reunion 2012 is June 21-24, and special guests next summer are any and all fraternity and sorority members. Info: 503.943.7328.
U.P. TRIVIA NIGHT
Get your smart teammates together and join us in The Cove on Saturday, November, 19 at 6 p.m., for a night of trivial fun. Open to all alumni, family, and friends, U.P. Trivia Night consists of ten rounds of ten questions, each round featuring a different theme. The top two teams win cash prizes, and everyone will have a chance at door prizes throughout the night. Teams are welcome to bring snacks. A dessert buffet is included with the $8 entry fee. A wine and beer cash bar will also be available. Trivia Night is
THE PRAYING HANDS SCHOLARSHIP FUND
You know the University’s memorial to its students who served and died in America’s wars – the haunting broken walls between Howard and Christie halls. But did you know there is also a Praying Hands Scholarship that honors those alumni? Direct help for today’s students. Great Campaign target. Call Diane Dickey, 503.943.8130.
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hotel rooms have been reserved for the Pilot faithful at the Hyatt Regency in Lexington. A Friday afternoon trip along the Bourbon Trail is also in the works. For more information contact the Office of Alumni Relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-8725867) or alumni@up.edu.
PILOT HOOPS KENTUCKY
Join us at Elephant’s Deli for the women’s networking luncheon at 11:45 a.m. on Wednesday, September 28. Featured speaker is Adina Flynn ’93, J.D, who will be chatting about myths and mindsets of money and longterm investing strategies for women. RSVP by contacting the Office of Alumni Relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-8725867) or alumni@up.edu.
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women’s games. Alumni activities will include our pregame tailgates at the Orleans Arena, golf, an exclusive spa day, and an evening show. Contact the Office of Alumni Relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-872-5867) or alumni@ up.edu for more information on reserving a room at the Bellagio during the WCC tournament for a special rate of 159.99 per night.
PILOT HOOPS IN SEATTLE The Pilot men’s basketball team will play three games at the University of Washington starting Saturday, November 12, as part of the BTI Tournament. A block of hotel rooms have been reserved at the University Silver Cloud Inn for alumni interested in traveling to Seattle to watch the Pilots open their season. Pregame festivities will be announced in our bi-weekly alumni e-newsletter. Be sure to update your information by e-mailing alumni@up.edu or by visiting us on the web at alumni.up.edu.
THE POKER TOURNAMENT
The annual National Alumni Board Poker Tournament is January 20, 2012; proceeds from the $50 entry fee will help support the NAB Scholarship Fund. A pre-tournament buffet meal will be served at 6:45 p.m. The chips will hit the table at 7:30 p.m. in a no-limit Texas Hold ‘Em tournament. RSVP by contacting the Office of Alumni Relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-8725867) or alumni@up.edu.
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The Pilot men then head to Lexington on Saturday, November, 19 to take on the legendary Kentucky Wildcats. The alumni office will be leading a trip to bluegrass country to support the team at Rupp Arena. A block of
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WOMEN’S NETWORKING LUNCH
THE NEW ALUMNI HOUSE…
…at 6625 North Portsmouth Avenue, right across the street from the Chiles Center, is open all day, every weekday – all alumni are invited to stop by any time. Among our treasures – copies of every dusty Log from the last fifty years. Want to see yourself with those horrible Elvis sideburns and your unfortunate disco shades? Stop by when you are on campus…
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IN VEGAS The 2012 West Coast Conference basketball tournament is again in Nevada, and the alumni office is building a trip around the Pilot men’s and
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ALUMNI AWARD NOMINATIONS
Three outstanding alumni are honored with the University’s annual alumni awards; The Rev. Thomas C. Oddo, C.S.C. Outstanding Service Award, the Distinguished Alumni Award, and the Contemporary Alumni Award. Visit the alumni website at alumni.up.edu, look under Events and News and then Alumni Awards to see a list of past award winners, to view nomination criteria, or to fill out a nomination form. Nominations are also welcome by contacting the Office of Alumni Relations at 888-UP-ALUMS (888-8725867) or alumni@up.edu. All nominations are due by Friday, November 4, 2011.
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One cool piece of the Rise Campaign: the sweet chance to honor and celebrate great funny generous energetic characters like the late Father John Delaunay, C.S.C., with gifts to create or abet scholarships like the Delaunay Fund, for students struggling to pay tuition. Father John was a raconteur of genius, a psych professor, dean of students, tireless scribe (he wrote thousands of letters to students in service in the war), and huge heart on The Bluff from 1933 to his death in 1953. There was only the one Father D; but there are so many people with his zest and grace... Autumn 2011 37
PHOTO COURTESY OF UNIVERSITY ARCHIVES
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H.J. Belton Hamilton, Jr. ’50 passed away on April 15, 2011, at his home in West Linn, Ore. With his passing Oregon lost not only its first African American federal administrative law judge, but also a pioneering civil rights advocate and activist. Born the grandson of a slave in the Deep South, Hamilton was one of 10 siblings who grew up on a farm in Mississippi. He served as a medic in World War II, returned a decorated veteran, and earned his law degree from Lewis and Clark College in 1953. To say he served the state of Oregon with distinction would be an understatement—in his life story by The Oregonian’s George Rede, Hamilton is credited as “one of the most important individuals in the history of civil rights in Oregon...there was probably no piece of state legislation, major court case, or state attorney general’s opinion involving civil rights from the mid-1950s to 1970 that Hamilton did not affect.” Survivors include his wife of 53 years, Midori Minamoto Hamilton (pictured with Hamilton above); son, Konrad M. Hamilton; daughter, Camille Hamilton Pating; grandchildren, David Matthew Pating, Anna Pating, and Grace Pating; and sisters, Marie Richardson Meria Burr. Our prayers and condolences to the family. 50 YEAR CLUB Rev. Charles D. Borho ’50 passed away on July 9, 2011, at Maryville Nursing Home in Beaverton, Ore. He served in the Marines during World War II, and in 1951 he began his seminary studies at Mt. Angel Seminary, and was ordained as a priest of the Portland archdiocese in 1957. Among his assignments were St. Mary’s Home for Boys, Star of the Sea Parish in Astoria, St. James Parish in McMinnville, St. Cecelia Parish in Beaverton, and St. Paul’s Parish in St. Paul. Survivors include his brothers, Cyril, Norbert, and Alfred. Our prayers and condolences. We received the following message from U.P. biology professor Jacqueline Van Hoomissen ’97, and would like to share it here: “I thought you might like to know that Kevin Van Hoomissen ’50, ’54, ’62 (my
father-in-law) passed away in peace on the afternoon of Friday, May 20, at the age of 78, at his home in Portland. He had a beautiful and heartwarming final few days at home surrounded by a loving flock of six children, two daughters-in-law, two sons-inlaw, and four grandchildren. His extended family was able to see him during his last few days and many memories were shared during the fiveday, 24-hour vigil that took place. When we talk about a ’good death,’ his was one to remember. Such love!” Thanks for letting us know, Jacquie, Kevin was a dyed-in-the-wool Columbia Prep and U.P. man, one of the greatest friends not only to the University but to countless alumni and members of the Portland and Beaverton area Catholic communities. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
N O T E S We heard from Fred O. Bowen ’50 in December 2010, when he sent us a copy of his book, I Am Third: A Father’s Legacy. “I wrote the book for my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren,” he writes. “However, I think some of the material has a broader application than just my immediate family. The six years I spent on The Bluff were some of the best years of my life—I still have a t-shirt that says ’University of Portland Football: Undefeated since 1950.’” Thanks for the book, Fred, your family is fortunate indeed that you embarked upon such a labor of love. Frank Luizzi ’51 passed away at his home in Portland, surrounded by his family, on April 22, 2011. He was a longtime Portland educator who loved athletics to the point of making it his career, serving children as a gym instructor, basketball coach, and umpire. Survivors include his wife of 60 years, Marge; children, Janice, Mary, and Leann; seven grandchildren; and seven great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences. Mary Barbara (Ryan) Dougherty ’51 died on July 16, 2011. She was born April 6, 1929, in Portland. She attended Holy Redeemer Grade School and Holy Child Academy High School. After graduating high school, she attended the University of Portland and graduated with a bachelor’s degree in nursing. On September 19, 1953, she married Raymond Dougherty. She lived in Bremerton, Wash.; Portland; Los Angeles, Calif.; and moved back to Portland in 1966. She was preceded in death by her husband, and is survived by her sons Dan Dougherty, Paul Dougherty, and John Dougherty; brother, John Ryan; and four grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Glyn Steiner ’52 passed away on March 25, 2011, in Tumwater, Wash. Our prayers and condolences. Longtime realtor and civic booster E. John Rumpakis ’54 was chosen as grand marshal of the 25th annual Fremont Fest on August 6, according to Portland’s Beaumont Business Association. Rumpakis, a graduate of Grant High School and the University of Portland, started his career at Meier and Frank when he was 15 years old. He was 28 when he started his real estate career. His fellow Realtors named him Realtor of the Year in 1971 and 1995. “He is a fitting choice for
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Fremont Fest,” wrote Larry Bingham in the Oregonian, “considering his father was in business at the corner of Northeast 24th Avenue and Fremont Street from 1927 through 1987 and his time in business on Fremont has stretched 52 years. He owns the Dutch Village Building at 41st and Fremont.” Congratulations, of course, are in order. Lois Mae Ladich ’54 passed away on May 18, 2011, in Portland, Ore. Survivors include her daughter, Ginger Pierson; son, Michael Ladich; and sister, Lilah Brown. Our prayers and condolences. Robert Donald Saltvig ’54 passed away on January 15, 2011, at Swedish Hospital in Seattle, Wash., with his family by his side. He was a professor of history at Seattle University and retired in 1995. Survivors include his wife of nearly 50 years, Lillian; son, Mark; and grandsons, Stephen and Erik. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Diane Marian (Della Santina) Baldrica ’55 passed away on May 11, 2011, in Ashland, Ore. She was the coordinator of Parkrose School District’s Community School and later ran a similar program for Mount Hood Community College. Survivors include her husband of 55 years, Donald ’56; children, Marianne, Alicia, Don, and Christine; and grandchildren, Owen, Luke, Gareth, and Hope. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Harvey M. Maloney ’58 passed away on July 17, 2011, in Woodland, Wash. Survivors include his wife of 53 years, Marlene “Sally”; children, Kimberly Armstrong, Kelly Osten, Daniel, and Jeffrey; eight grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; and sisters, Barbara and Nancy. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Janice (McIntyre) Lishan ’61 passed away on March 9, 2011, in Vancouver, Wash. Our prayers and condolences to the family. William Gratton ’61 passed away on June 23, 2011, in Los Angeles, Calif. While a student on The Bluff he married Margaret Johnson in 1960. They remained married until 1998. At the University he earned a bachelor’s degree in speech and drama and a master of fine arts with a specialty in theater in 1963. From 19631966 Bill served as a professor of speech and drama at St. Mary’s College in South Bend, Ind., returning to the University of Portland in 1966 as an asso-
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Remember our summer 2011 class note for Julia Shovein ’69? She and her husband, Horst Wolff, began a circumnavigation of the globe in the Pacific Star, a 37-foot sailboat, leaving San Francisco in 2007. After safely passing through Pirate Alley, they are wintering at St. Katherine’s Dock in London in 2011-2012 and should be home (Paradise, California) in another three years. Here are some photos she would like to share. We are green with envy. Green! —Editors
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La Salle Catholic College Preparatory’s former principal Bill George ’70 (pictured during his days as a Portland Pilots baseball player) retired on June 30, 2011 after a 35year career as a teacher, coach and administrator at the Milwaukie, Ore., high school. George joined La Salle in 1976 as a teacher and head baseball coach. Prior to that, George was a social studies and English teacher, assistant football and basketball coach, and head baseball coach at Regis High School in Stayton, Ore. He led the Rams to back-to-back baseball titles in 1974 and 1975. As an educator, George taught English for all four grades, U.S. history, government, world history, personal finance, and marriage and family life. He coached football for the Falcons and was their head baseball coach for 20 varsity seasons. Recently, George has assisted the baseball program at various levels, under the leadership of his youngest son, Chris, a 1997 La Salle graduate. George was a college counselor, athletic director, dean of students, vice principal, and finally principal from 1997-2006. After he retired from his post as principal he became director of admissions for one year; after considering retirement in 2007, he was hired part-time as the school’s director of campus facilities; a position he kept until his retirement. Over 35 years, George has become a mentor and leader within the La Salle Prep community and within the San Francisco District of Lasallian Schools. In 1993, George received the Distinguished Lasallian Educator Regional Award for the San Francisco District and was honored at the annual Huether Lasallian Conference. To celebrate his retirement, George participated in the Lasallian service trip, Vandu Paaru, which took him to the Boy’s Village in South India for three weeks, beginnng June 15. Additionally, in honor of George’s 35 years of service to La Salle Prep, the school established the Bill George Scholarship Fund, which will provide tuition assistance for La Salle students. To say that Bill George will not soon be forgotten in the hallowed halls of La Salle Prep goes without saying, but we’ll say it here nonetheless.
N O T E S ciate director of the University theater. Also in the 1960s, he did six years of summer stock at the historic Old Brewery Theater in Helena, Mont. In the early 70s he established Sandycrest Antiques in Northeast Portland, featuring English imported antiques. Having his own business allowed Bill the flexibility of doing Portland theater and local media work. Wanting even more opportunities, he moved to Los Angeles in 1984, where he worked regularly in film, television, and commercials. He was a member of AFTRA and SAG. Acting and directing were the great passions of Bill’s life. He began early, performing as a youngster at the Portland Civic Theater. His reputation for creativity and discipline in his art grew solid over the years at the University and in the Portland theater scene. Working in Los Angeles was the fulfillment of a life-long dream. His daughter Laura preceded him in death on May 9, 2011. Bill is survived by his sons Gene, Paul, and Gerald Francis Gratton, and sisters Beverly Atallah and Mary Davids. He leaves four grandchildren: Elizabeth and Madison Abshire, Aidan Nicolas Gratton, and Catherine Anne Fitzsimmons. He also leaves 14 nieces and nephews. Bill will be remembered especially for his sense of humor, both whimsical and pointed, his love of military history, and his life-long dedication to the art and craft of acting. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
’64 PRAYERS, PLEASE Lloyd W. Fowler passed away on June 20, 2011, in Portland, Ore. Our prayers and condolences to the family. We received sad news from David Grbavac ’01, who writes: “It is with great pain that I inform you and the University of Portland community of the passing of my father, Daniel A. Grbavac ’64, ’66. He passed away on Tuesday, July 26 at 1 p.m. He was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma, a cancer of the liver bile duct, in January of this year. He was receiving treatment at St. Vincent’s Oncology Treatment Center. Ultimately, it was his heart that failed. He was surrounded by family and went peacefully. If you would please spread the news to others in the University community our family would appreciate it. He absolutely loved being on the campus and especially loved watching the soccer games.” Of course we’ll share the news, David, and
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please know that you and your dad and your family are in our thoughts and prayers.
’65 REMEMBERING DORAN Doran Henry Stoltenberg passed away on December 31, 2009, in Juneau, Alaska, at the age of 90. While in fourth grade an attack of spinal meningitis and scarlet fever left him totally deaf; among his academic successes were a B.A. from the University of Montana and master’s degrees from the University of Portland and Lewis and Clark College. At the time of his retirement he a teacher at the Washington State School for the Deaf in Vancouver. Survivors include his brother, Bill Stoltenberg; daughters, Judy Rittenburgh and Alyce Houston; sons, Robert, Randy, and Ron; 11 grandchildren; and eight greatgrandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
’71 A MOVER AND SHAKER Mike Burton was featured in a story in The Oregonian (“Former Metro Executive Mike Burton Retires After Scrappy Career in Oregon Government” by James Mayer) on July 1, 2011. Burton retired officially on June 30 from his position as a vice provost at Portland State University, following “a career that included stints as an Air Force pilot, an aide to Governor Bob Straub, a state legislator, and the top elected official of Metro, the regional government,” wrote Mayer. In his newfound free time, Burton plans to travel and “is working on a plan to erect a World War II memorial on the state Capitol grounds.”
’74 THE HOEHNA FAMILY ON THE MOVE We heard recently from Klaus and Mary ’75 Hoehna, who write: “Klaus’ company was bought out by the Will-Burt Company of Orrville, Ohio; we moved there this summer and really miss Alaska and the grandchildren. However, we are a little closer to the number four grandchild in Virginia and got to see number three again on the way to Ohio!” Ronald August Parno passed away on April 21, 2011, in Portland, Ore. He was a sergeant for the Portland Police Bureau for 27 years. Survivors include his wife, Christine; stepmother, Lillie Parno; children, Heather, Theresa, Elizabeth, Wyatt, and Rebecca; sisters, Elaine and Joyce; and ten grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
C L A S S ’75 PRAYERS FOR HELEN Helen Mary Krautscheid passed away on July 25, 2011, in North Plains, Ore. Helen was born in Hillsboro to Peter and Helen (Maul) Krautscheid and earned a bachelor’s of nursing on The Bluff. She met her best friend and companion, Joanne Bryant, in 1982. Helen retired from nursing in 1995 when she incurred a traumatic brain injury in an auto accident and in 2004 moved with Joanne to the Krautscheid family farm. Survivors include Joanne; 30 nieces and nephews; and many close and dear friends. Our prayers and condolences.
’76 ZEROING INN We heard recently from Susan Sanders, who writes: “I was just re-reading the spring 2011 Portland Magazine and saw your request for information about the Zero Inn. You are correct, it did exist. I attended U.P. from 1972 to 1976 and I do remember the Zero Inn. I believe it opened sometime after I arrived at U.P. and it was still there when I graduated. It was on Lombard Street, same side of the street as Don and Pat’s but closer to the Twilight Room. I think it was the step-child of the T-Room in that those students whose faces were crossed off in the U.P. directory that the Penners kept behind the bar (because they were underage) ended up going to the Zero Inn instead.” Thanks Susan, we appreciate your help in getting to the bottom of this.
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Pierce ’76, ’79, before achieving the ability to use color in 1989, thanks to “a healthy grant by the E.L. Wiegand foundation and Grass Valley Group (nee Tektronix) to refit the studio in Buckley Center room 15.”
’78 YOU’LL ONLY NEED THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT Ray Tercek writes: “I launched my new book, The Investigation Of Pepe Chavez et al, on June 24, 2011. It is my nonfiction account of an early 1980s Portland Police Bureau/Federal investigation of a cocaine smuggling enterprise and the behind-thescenes bureaucratic obstacles that influenced the course of the investigation. See www.raytercekbooks.com for information and current news regarding any new publications.” Mary Werner Stempel writes: “I just wanted to share a photo and the great mission work several of our alumni and one student did in May 2011 in Guatemala. For more photos and information check out www.faithinpractice.org. We were team no. 286 this year. We usually have about five University of Portland alumni with us each year. This was my seventh year and it’s an amazing experience. It’s about eight days and I have a dream of bringing one or two student nurses with us in the future. We triaged about 200 patients and did over 90 surgical cases in four days. My daughter Katie joined us this year. She will be
Reunion 2011: 100 Years of Life On The Bluff We welcomed more than 1,060 alumni, family members, faculty, staff, and friends to The Bluff over the course of reunion weekend, June 23-26. Our weekend guests helped us celebrate 100 years of life on The Bluff, highlighting the founding of Christie Hall in 1911, as well as the milestone classes of 1961 and 1986, including alumni from Massachusetts, Virginia, North Carolina, and Hawaii. We’re already making plans for reunion 2012, so plan ahead and join us on June 21-25, 2012. Too see more photos from the weekend, go to http://youtu.be/DkJb8vibxVI.
’77 A NOTE FROM MARILYN We heard recently from Marilyn McDonald, who writes: “Thank you for the nice write-up about my books in the most recent Class Notes (“A Lifetime of Travel,” summer 2011). Regarding ’A Note From The Editor’ for your December 2011 issue on music: In the spring of 1976, our TV Production group at U.P. did a ‘Behind the Scenes’ documentary class project on a U.P. music and dance production—I don’t recall the title. Our professor thought it worthy of showing to thenpresident Fr. Waldschmidt. He enjoyed the piece, but thought it would have been so much better in color. I expect the University’s TV production now has color. I hope our offering made it happen sooner rather than later.” Thanks Marilyn, unfortunately the University discontinued its television production program in the early 1990s—but not, as pointed out by communication studies professor Dann
entering the U.P. School of Nursing this fall. She found during her week in Guatemala that she truly has a passion for nursing. She was interpreting for patients, and worked in pre-op, recovery, and actually scrubbed to assist on some cases. It was an incredible opportunity for her and she was a blessing to have as a member of our team. Thanks for all you do to develop the next generation of nurses.”
’82 NOT YOUR AVERAGE JOB Stuart Palmiter was featured in a story in the June 15, 2011 edition of The Oregonian. The article by Tom Hallman Jr., titled “Portland Officer Talks
Suicidal Man Off Vista Bridge,” offers “a glimpse into the world of the city’s street cops who deal with the mentally ill.” Palmiter, who joined the Portland Police Bureau in 1992 after a career as a high school teacher, spent 45 minutes talking a suicidal man out of jumping from Portland’s infamous “Suicide Bridge” before grabbing him and pulling him to safety, the seventh time
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Palmiter has used his training as a member of Portland’s former crisis intervention team to defuse a bridge jumper situation.
’86 WORKING OVERSEAS Ab Latiff Abu Bakar writes: “I have been appointed as head of Takaful (Islamic Insurance) for Tokio Marine Asia Pte Ltd. This is a regional position and I will oversee this business in
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Day for the past four decades, bringing in over 30,000 people each year to enjoy a variety of fun activities for the whole family, including live entertainment, carnivals rides, 5K run, arts and crafts, food, a beer garden, and more. Check out the Fest website at www.vancouversausagefest.com and put it on your calender to attend the first weekend after Labor Day in 2012.
Thanks to all who wrote in to point out that our summer 2011 mystery faculty photo was none other than Joe Gallegos, who retired at the conclusion of the spring 2011 semester. Joe’s certificate of appreciation reads in part: “On the occasion of his elevation to Professor of Social Work Emeritus, a rank he has earned a hundredfold through his tireless, some would say dogged determination to create and develop the University’s fully accredited Dorothy Day Program in Social Work, a program that brings the University’s commitment to Catholic Social Justice fully and vividly and actively to life. We will miss Joe’s calming presence in our day-today lives, but even more we will miss his commitment to social justice, his innate ability to make colleagues, students, alumni, and let’s just say it, everyone feel like part of his spiritual and literal family, and his unflagging, heartfelt advocacy for people and families in need of help, of every sort and stripe.” Amen to that. And now on to our next mystery faculty member. This young fellow graduated from the University of Portland and couldn’t resist coming back and joining the faculty, where he serves faithfully to this day. We won’t tell his graduation year since that would make it too easy, even by our standards, but his professional interests include “Failure analysis, mechanics of materials, manufacturing processes, data acquisition and analysis, design of experiments,” and other topics to make a poor liberal arts major’s head swim. Best guesses to mcovert@up.edu. India, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore.” Kathleen Hunt, or Kat Bocci as she is known now, and her husband of 24 years, Ben, have four children: Joe, 22; Tony, 19; Alaina, 11; and David, 9. All of their children have either graduated from or still attend St. Joseph Catholic School in Vancouver, Wash., where the
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’88 LIFE GOES ON Mustapah Mohamed writes: “Even though I graduated with a mechanical engineering background in 1988, I worked as a petroleum engineer with Petroleum National of Malaysia for 15 years. I have been posted in several places for domestic and international operations. I am married with one daughter, age 14. After Petroleum National, I decided to join another oil and gas operating company, Qatar Petroleum, where I have worked since 2006, residing in Qatar. Life goes on. I still get in touch with my fellow Malaysian U.P. alumni.”
’89 PRAYERS FOR JOAN Joan E. Bartlett passed away on June 24, 2011, at her home in Portland, Ore. Survivors include her daughter, Lily; partner, Chris Cunningham; brothers, Ron Spillum and Todd Grimson; and many loving friends. Our prayers and condolences. James Shaun Squires passed away on July 21, 2011, in McMinnville, Ore. A lifelong, gifted athlete, he attended the University on a full baseball scholarship. Survivors include his father, Jack Squires; brother, Jack Sheldon Squires; sister, Joy Sharyn Blum; fiance, Arin Clark; and their child, due in December 2011. His mother and best friend, Elinore, passed away in 2007. In his obituary in the Oregonian, Shaun was remembered for “his ability to truly listen without judgement and his love of talking and reminiscing for hours on end... his intelligence, kindness, forgiveness, and love of people and animals will always be with us.” Contributions in Shaun’s memory may be send to the University of Portland. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
Vancouver Sausage Fest is held. This event just celebrated its 40th anniversary on September 9-11, 2011. Kat has been chairing the event for the last four years with the help of many parents and teachers who are also U.P. alumni. St. Joe’s has been throwing the Last Blast of Summer Party the first weekend after Labor
’90 QUITE A TEAM Susan Etzel Gonzalez has been promoted to the position of director of projects and client services for SportsOne, a national sports and entertainment marketing agency based in Beaverton, Ore. Susan joined the team in 2003 and served previously as senior
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project manager. She will lead client services teams for the Safeway Invitational, Trail Blazers Street Jam, Safeway’s sponsorship of the Nike Women’s Marathon, the Oregon Sports Awards, and the TrackTown12 Olympic trials. Find out more on the web at http://gosportsone.com/. Donna Beegle was pleasantly surprised to be named the winner of the 2011 Oregon Ethics in Business Award on June 15, 2011. Beegle is a prominent speaker and advocate for those in poverty, and is herself a product of generational poverty. She is the founder of the not-for-profit Poverty Bridge, and president and co-founder of for-profit consulting firm Communication Across Barriers. Her career is dedicated to giving back to the community. Please remember Mark Bjorklund and his family in your prayers on the loss of Mark’s father, James M. Bjorklund, on May 14, 2011. Survivors include his wife, Connie; father, Milton; sons, Mark and Eric; brother, Bryan; and four grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences. Jack Terry Flaig passed away on June 23, 2011, in Sequim, Wash. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
’92 BACK IN THE SADDLE Sarah (Geers) Havlik, after a couple of years spent away from bicycling after having baby Kevin, just won the Oregon State time trial championship for women in her age group (http://obra.org/events/ 19794/results#race_313316), according to Pat Ell ’89. “Sarah is pretty modest,” says Pat, “but her husband, Mike ’89, might share some photos of Sarah flying on her bike.” So how about it, Mike? Care to share some pictures? We’d love to see them. Send whatever you like to mcovert@up.edu.
’99 A CAREER IN THE ARTS Jenny Debevec-Silva writes: “Doreen Aarhaus O’Skea ’96 contacted some of us who are U.P. music alumni and asked us to contact the magazine about what we are doing since leaving The Bluff. I moved to the Bay Area in California in 2003. Currently I am cobbling together a life that involves child-rearing (I have a 14month-old daughter named Lenora) and keeping my voice over and academic consulting businesses going. I started doing voice over and oncamera work about five years ago. It’s been a challenging yet fun career path. Working as a
C L A S S voice over actor in San Francisco means I get to try my hand at a lot of different kinds of VO work—everything from radio, TV, and Internet commercials to narration for audio tours to silly characters for toys and games. I also sing with the San Francisco Choral Society and occasionally do some solo performing. I certainly believe that people can have a career in the arts but it takes a certain amount of carving one’s own trail. So it goes. Good luck with the article. By the way, our family is a big fan of the magazine and we enjoying reading Brian Doyle’s work in every issue.” Melissa (Neely) Webb writes: “Dave Webb ’98 and I welcomed our second daughter into the world on September 24, 2010. Samantha Grace weighed 8 lbs. 6 oz. and was 20.5 inches long. While we were all glad when she finally arrived, the most excited was big sister Taylor, who waited
’03 HEADED FOR HIGHER ED Leo James Pereira writes: “After completing my master’s degree from U.P. in 2003 I have served for seven years at St. Joseph Higher Secondary School as vice principal and principal from January 2004 to March 2011. I have resigned from St. Joseph and trying for higher studies.” Kate Leder (Dodt) writes: “Yeppers, that is Dr. Joe Gallegos sporting a pretty sweet beard in your mystery photo [summer 2011]. He was my social work advisor and he was awesome. After graduating in 2003, I worked for the Social Security Administration for five years. I married Phil (Mony) Leder in 2007 and we had a daughter, Sophia, in 2009. Just last month we welcomed another addition to the family, Ben! I’m now a stay-at-home-mom living in Seattle. I am already looking forward to my ten-year reunion in 2013!” Yes, Kate, that’s Joe, pictured earlier in his career, from which he recently retired, and he is awesome, judging from everyone’s responses. Thanks for writing.
’04 SWEET BABY JAMES
nine long months to finally hold her baby sister.” From the looks of her, she was well worth the wait. Thanks and congratulations, Melissa.
Chrissy Marquardt writes: “My husband, CJ Marquardt ’03 and I welcomed our first child, a healthy and adorable James Elijah Marquardt, on September 1, 2010. Baby James weighed in at 6 lbs 8 oz and 20 inches long. He is now almost a year old because we’ve been too busy adjusting to the life of
’01 PRAYERS FOR DANIEL We received sad news from David Grbavac, who writes: “It is with great pain that I inform you and the University of Portland community of the passing of my father, Daniel A. Grbavac ’64, ’66. He passed away on Tuesday, July 26 at 1 p.m. He was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma, a cancer of the liver bile duct, in January of this year. He was receiving treatment at St. Vincent’s Oncology Treatment Center. Ultimately, it was his heart that failed. He was surrounded by family and went peacefully. If you would please spread the news to others in the University community our family would appreciate it. He absolutely loved being on the campus and especially loved watching the soccer games.” Of course we’ll share the news, David, and please know that you and your dad and your family are in our thoughts and prayers.
parenthood to update U.P. earlier. We are in love with our little son and hope to give him a little brother or sister in the near future.” Melissa Giglio Bowers writes: “I thought I would drop a line and a quick update. I recently celebrated my fourth anniversary with my husband, Daniel (May 27, 2007 wedding date), who has been taking his ARE professional exams for his architectural registration, and has inspired me to do the same. I recently passed the Fundamentals of Engineering exam in October of last year (seniors, take them now!), and I am applying to take the PE exam in mechanical engineering at the end of this year. Hopefully, I will have a new
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N O T E S set of initials after my name! I also recently got nominated and accepted as the president of the Phoenix, Arizona chapter of the American Society of Plumbing Engineers. Life is full of possibilities for me and my family.” Matthew Ryan Kathan married Molly Marie Marshall on New Year’s Eve 2010, in Spokane, Washington, at Our Lady of Lourdes Cathedral
five days of fun, family, and friendship on the bluff overlooking the great Pacific!!”
’05 JILLIAN’S TRAVELS Jillian McSweeney writes: “After graduating from U of P, I moved to Phoenix, Arizona to teach immigrant and refugee students new to the U.S., then headed off to teach first grade at an international school in China. Recently, I have been
We heard recently from Matt Elerding ’95, who writes: “I am on-board with the whole ’Planking’ phenomenon.” Which surprises us not one little bit. with a reception party at the Spokane Club. Matthew graduated from South Kitsap High School in 2000 and in 2004 received a bachelor of science in biology on The Bluff. In 2009 he graduated from Creighton University School of Dentistry in Omaha, Nebraska. Molly graduated in Spokane from Mead High School in 2004 and received a Bachelor of Science in Zoology from Washington State University in 2006. She completed her degree from Creighton University Dental School this spring. Matt currently has a dental practice in Omaha. In the near future, the couple hopes to share a dental practice in the Pacific Northwest. A honeymoon to Costa Rica is planned for the summer. Read more at www.kitsapsun.com/news/20 11/may/26/wedding-kathanmarshall/#ixzz1T8lNMh2M. Justin Carter married Tiffany Church on April 26, 2011 in Ventura California. “There was a gathering, a reunion of sorts, of many Portland alumni for this event,” writes Justin. “Dustin Geddis, who brilliantly officiated at the ceremony; Brock Miller ’05, Jarrod Weis, Kyle Tanner, Dave Medack, Dave Pearson, and other U.P. alumni were among those in the wedding party and in attendance. The day was beautiful and culminated
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teaching language arts to fifth graders in Istanbul, Turkey.” Marianne (Harris) McGah writes: “On February 19, 2011 I got married to my best friend, Pat McGah. He is a wonderful and fun person, although we have some WCC clashes as he went to Gonzaga. Don’t worry, the wedding colors were purple, white, and black! Many U.P. alums were present to help us celebrate, including bridesmaid Theresa Rarick Conroy, her husband Nate Conroy, and their new baby Simon. It was also a blessing to have some of the former staff from my days in Shipstad join us—Fr. John Donato, Kristina Houck, and Stephanie Nichols.” We heard recently from Eveline Roscoe Mahoney, who writes: “The mystery faculty member for summer 2011 is none other than my beloved professor, Dr. Joseph Gallegos. This photo, no doubt, was taken during his wilder, more flavorful days... Did you know he orchestrated a huge protest where people actually barricaded themselves in a school to prevent it from being destroyed? Or some great cause! He is a true social activist, not the type to sit on his hands and hope for change. He’s a dreamer who takes action and he is one of my favorite memories of the University.”
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THE BUSINESS OF SHOW BUSINESS The summer that Brisa Trinchero ’05 was 12, she produced a show in her family’s backyard in Lake Oswego. She drafted her dad to build the stage, her mom to direct, and her brother and neighbor kids to act in supporting roles. The play was Alice in Wonderland, with Trinchero as the star. It was a huge hit, and she paid the actors five bucks each from lemonade and cookie sales. Today, dividing her time between Portland and New York City, Trinchero and her company, Make Musicals, help produce Broadway musicals that cost up to $15 million. She brings together musicians, writers, producers, and actors for shows like the recent Broadway production of Catch Me if You Can. “My grandparents were theater patrons who took me to Broadway shows in high school,” she says. “My dad was a concert promoter in college, and my mom helped me build my pre-teen acting career. I thought I wanted to be an opera singer, but decided to try the business of show business, helping producers, writers, and performing artists across the country connect to create musicals. During my first term on The Bluff I had to pick a theater company to study, and I chose the Broadway Rose Theatre Company. A few weeks later a position opened at the theater and I was in! I started as a fundraising assistant and became director of development. Around the same time, an opportunity came up for the company to convert an old building into a theater house. It involved a large capital campaign that catapulted the annual budget into the millions and doubled the staff. I realized that this was what my M.B.A. had trained me for. I was promoted to executive director and did that for three years. Now, along with Making Musicals, I run a theater lab, Running Deer, in Trout Lake, Washington, which conducts musical-theater development projects. I find composers, lyricists, and producers from around the country to come out and develop their shows. Five shows have been developed there, in the shadow of Mount Adams.” —Christine Colasurdo
N O T E S Thanks Eveline, you’re correct of course, and we sure miss him around here now that he’s retired.
’06 OVER THE MOON Here’s the latest from Eva (Wolff) Hortsch: “Gary Hortsch ’96, ’98 and I welcomed our first child, August Peter Hortsch, on May 22 at 12:22 a.m. He was 8 lbs. 7 oz. and came with a full
head of hair. He’s the first grandchild on my side and the first in 25 years on Gary’s side! Needless to say, both families are over the moon. We’re calling him ’Gus’ for short and he’s pretty darn adorable.” Thanks Eva, and congratulations to you and Gary. Renee Dentlinger successfully completed the required course work and boards to earn her degree from the Creighton University School of Medicine in Omaha, Nebraska, on May 14. She was one of 122 in the class of 2011. On July 1, Renee began a three-year family practice residency at Research Medical Center in Kansas City, Missouri. She is one of 13 in the new class of interns. Congratulations, Rene—er, make that, Dr. Dentlinger.
’08 WELCOME BACK! Autumn (Dierking) Molay writes: “My husband Ian and I finally moved back to the Portland area after three years in Illinois. I received a master’s degree in journalism from Northwestern University and worked for a year as a promotions producer for an ABC affiliate in my time away from the Pacific Northwest.” Jeff Ryan writes: “I realize I’m a bit slow on the update, but in June 2010 I married fellow U.P. grad and E-Scholar Sevrina Bacon (now Sevrina Ryan).” Jennifer Smith has some good news to share: “Ken Anderson ’07 and I tied the knot on June 25, 2011! We were married at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Portland on a perfect day, then honeymooned in Europe for two weeks and now reside in SE Portland. Ken is a junior
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partner on a wealth management team for Morgan Stanley Smith Barney, and I teach third grade at St. John the Baptist Catholic School in Milwaukie.”
’10 TIGER’S TRAVELS Tiger Lee Torelle is going to school in Thailand, according to a note from her mom, Suzanne Seiber, who shared the following e-mail update from her daughter: “Last week we had a bit of a break from school, and I used the opportunity to travel down to Klang in Rayong province to chill with my lovely Thai friends, who are, I’m convinced, some of the most welcoming people in the whole world. They invited me on a group trip to Ampurwah floating market, which is found on the most accessible part of Ampurwah village, famous for having been built on sticks across a wide stretch of river. My friends and I spent a couple days there, waking up early each morning to make merit (pay homage with food and prayers) to the monks, who paddle themselves about from house to house in long wooden canoes. After a giant Thai style-breakfast (hint: it always involves fish), we all crowded into boats on the beautiful Mekong River, searching for temples on the jungle choked banks. If it weren’t for the tiny floating docks—easily mistaken for abandoned rafts—and the gold and red tipped temple roofs, dramatically arched, irreverently piercing the thick canopies, one might not notice the temples at all. Luckily, we managed just fine; some in my group seemed to know just the right places to search. Without them, we certainly wouldn’t have found the Chinese cave temple. Buried in the hills, up flights of steep marble steps, the cave temple was built by Chinese immigrants into the walls of tiny hidden caves. Now keep in mind, Thai caves are not the frigid damp spelunking-grounds of the Pacific Northwest. Mild, occasionally cool, and never cold, Thai caves are so hospitable, they make it easy to imagine how we as a species once abandoned our comfy trees to call them home. “The temple itself is reminiscent of a Disneyland haunted house, in that you proceed in dim light and rocky terrain, unsure of your next step, until an entire wall suddenly gives way to a candle-decked shrine, or a painted dragon juts out surprisingly from an unas-
C L A S S suming rock face. The largest of the many shrines, the size of a small bedroom, is decorated with golden naga (the water god) and Sanskrit/Chinese blessings carefully inlaid into the rock. All this is dwarfed by a giant golden Buddha, testing the vertical limits of the small enclosure, looking as if he might soon outgrow the tiny rock room. “The air at this depth is thick and wet, heavy with minerals, mud, and faint wafts of burning sandalwood. As we follow the smoke, we turn to see a saffron-clad monk meditating at the foot of the giant Buddha. We kneel and bow, carefully pressing our heads to our fingertips three times, palms against the floor. Though my head was bowed to the ground, I could hear the rustle of saffron robes and the splash of water as the monk gathered his blessing sticks and dipped them in a metal bowl of water, chanting good-luck blessings to us while flicking the wet sticks over our heads. So we rose, thoroughly blessed and slightly damp, and made our way into the light.” Emily Barrett is heading to the University of Oregon to work on her M.A. in psychology, according to the everwatchful Rev. Art Wheeler, C.S.C., who makes it his business to know these things. For that matter, he also tells us that Kelsey Fleharty is off to the University of Oregon Law School; and that Allison Shepherd will be attending Lewis and Clark for her graduate degree in education.
’11 JENNIFER’S UPDATE Jennifer Pesut writes: “So this is a little late and I think most people in the alumni office know, but just so you have it in writing: on May 23rd I started my first full-time job at UTi Worldwide, Inc. I’m working at their Shared Services office in downtown Portland in the IT department as a project administrator! Loving it so far, putting in lots of hours, but U.P. prepared me well! Also, I just bought UP soccer season tickets, so I am VERY excited for that! Pilots Til I Die!” Lynn Le writes: “I’m working as a product manager for a new media company in downtown Portland, and it’s great!” Simon Hepp married Elizabeth Beshoar on June 4, 2011, in the Chapel of Christ the Teacher on campus, according Rev. Art Wheeler, C.S.C. “They went to Salzburg together,” he adds, “and Elizabeth’s younger sister, Rebecca Beshoar, will be in
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A report from the field by the intrepid Caitlin MacMillen ’08, alumni relations: “Last weekend, I attended the wedding of David Gregg ’08 (past ASUP president) and his new wife Kristen Peila of Burns, Oregon. The wedding was in Burns and more than 400 guests were there. We managed to snap a shot of all the U.P. graduates in attendance. I’ll do my best to identify everyone: Carly Corrado ’11, Lillian VanAgtmael ’81, Peter Mahoney ’08, Bridget Harrington ’08, Martin Schneider ’08, Andy Boesflug ’08, Fr. John Wironen, C.S.C. (celebrant), Mary Gregg ’11, Megan Burris ’11, Shannon Smith ’11, Emily Mues ’10, Ryan Brown ’06, Kristen (Peila) Gregg, David Gregg ’08, Dani Schwanz ’08, Gillian Keller ’11, Mark Wheeler ’08, Caitlin MacMillen ’08, Gerry Gregg ’81, Pat Gregg ’06, Kirsten Keller ’82, Joe Jurczak ’06, Paul Keller ’81, Chris Corrado ’82. In front: Mark Louie ’06. Pete O’Connor ’08 was in the picture as well, but I believe he is behind Dave, and not visible. “Dave and Kristen are going to Germany for the summer so Dave can complete an internship with BMW, and then return to Georgetown University to complete his degree at the School of Foreign Service.” Salzburg for the 2011-2012 academic year.”
’12 DOING GOOD WORK University of Portland senior Kurt Berning volunteered recently in Kenya through the University’s Moreau Center for Service and Leadership East Africa Internship program. Berning is working with the Foundation for Sustainable Development at the Friends Secondary School in Lusui, a rural Kenyan village, and is fundraising to install electricity at the school. Berning hopes to raise $1,250 for the four-year-old school that serves 220 students in rural Western Kenya. According to Berning, the addition of lights, wiring, and electrical outlets would dramatically expand the reading and academic culture of the school by giving
students a place to study in the early morning and late evening, and allow teachers to use more effective teaching aids. Few of the surrounding homes have electricity, and many of the students are orphans who are affected by HIV/AIDS. For more information about Berning’s project and how to donate to Friends Secondary School Lusui, visit his blog at http://www.kurtberning.blogspot.com/, or visit the Foundation for Sustain-able Development website at www.fsdinternational.org/ donate/projects. The Moreau Center for Service and Leadership’s East Africa Internship program, launched in 2009, sends up to three students to East African for a nine-week internship program is in collaboration with the
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Foundation for Sustainable Development. The East Africa Interns work to address local health, social, environmental, and economic issues through grassroots, community-based action. University of Portland senior and Portland resident Taylor Bergmann (pictured below) is the second recipient of the Molly Hightower Memorial Scholarship, established by the University of Portland class of 2010 in memory of Hightower, a class of 2009 alumna who died in the 2010 earthquake in Haiti while volunteering with special-needs orphrans. Throughout her life and during her time at the University, Molly Hightower fulfilled her personal mission of service to others through her work in the community with those less fortunate than
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Janine Lequire ’08 (pictured above, center) married Mario Aviado on May 14, 2011, in Seattle, Washington, according to a note we received from Katie Selvog ’08, pictured here at left, holding her soon-to-be-married pal steady. How about a followup e-mail on married life, Janine? Congratulations and best wishes to you and Mario, by the way. herself. “It’s a such a big honor, I am honored to even be considered to receive the scholarship,” Bergmannn says. “I know that there are some pretty big shoes to fill.
every shirt you buy will pay for school fees and uniform costs for a child in Kenya to go to school for one year,” Bergmann says. “There are about 1.3 million kids in Kenya who are of school age, but aren’t in school because they are unable to pay school fees.”
FACULTY, STAFF, FRIENDS
Molly has left quite a legacy.” Bergmann, a history and political science major with a minor in entrepreneurship, has done many service-oriented projects and trips through the University’s Moreau Center for Service and Leadership. He led a servicelearning trip to Alaska and to the southern U.S. to learn about the civil rights movement. Last year Bergmann traveled to Kenya through the Moreau Center to work with Kakamega Environmental Education. He plans to use the scholarship to join the Entrepreneurial Scholars (EScholars) program. “I want to work on a for-profit ’one for one’ t-shirt company in which
Robert “Bob” Reischman passed away on May 19, 2011, in Portland, Ore. Bob worked for the University’s groundskeeping crew from 1993 to 2001, often seen mowing the University’s meticulously manicured lawns on a riding mower, a job he was not shy about saying he loved. Bob was also an avid hunter and fisherman; he had the uncanny ability to call geese with his voice alone, and his recipe for “Jammin’ Salmon” was the stuff of legend. Survivors include his dad, Bob Sr.; brother, Randy; sisters, Nancy Tousignant, Susan Rodich, and Melissa Reischman; seven nieces and nephews; six greatnieces and nephews, and his buddy, ACE. He was preceded in death by his mother, Bonnie; and brother, Ric. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Marilyn Mattson knows the secret identity of our summer 2011 mystery faculty member:
N O T E S “The mystery photo has to be none other than Joe Gallegos.” She’s right, too. Joe retired at the end of the spring 2011 semester and it’s just not the same around here without him. We heard recently from retired physics professor Paul Wack, who writes: “I was surprised and honored to see my baby picture in the summer edition of Portland Magazine. I sent an e-mail to Brian thanking him. However, the caption is probably incorrect in saying that the picture was taken in 1925. It was probably taken in 1921 because I look like a twoyear-old in the picture. But then again, my son, Ed ’82, ’01, says that I appear to be 3 or 4 in the picture, which would make it 1922-1923.” Thanks Paul, duly noted. University of Portland regent Carolyn Woo wrote the following to her colleagues at the Mendoza College of Business at the University of Notre Dame: “After six months of intense and ongoing discernment, I have decided to take the challenge presented to me to serve as president and CEO of Catholic Relief Services as of January 1, 2012. Leaving Notre Dame is extremely difficult for me, because of all the love, grace and generosity that I experience every day in working on our mission and excellence. What I have here is a true family of colleagues, benefactors and alums. We have all shared the dream and the commitment to the Notre Dame mission for excellence and faith. CRS serves people whose lives generally have been so violently affected that they lose their loved ones, their livelihood, their homes – everything that is so necessary to daily living. Oftentimes, the CRS team is the first appearance of hope on scenes of devastation, and the promise that a future may be possible. They reach out to all who suffer, regardless of whether they share our faith. In some ways, they are strangers. But in the most profound ways, we know them as intimately as we know loss and the desire for a more stable life, particularly for the people we love. For us Catholics, it is the call of Christ to be His hands and feet in a world which so desperately needs to believe in and experience love, friendship, compassion and grace. Your support has inspired me all these years and I hope that you will keep me in your prayers.” We certainly will here on The Bluff. Woo has
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served as dean of the Mendoza School since 1997. We heard recently from Dr. Louis C. Vaccaro, who writes: “It has been forty years since I left the University of Portland for points east. Fresh from a postdoctoral year at Eugene, then-president Fr. Paul Waldschmidt, C.S.C. appointed me as the first lay vice president of academic affairs at the University in 1967. I subsequently went on to several other colleges and eventually had some interesting international adventures. My U.P. days were very rewarding and I have nothing bur fond memories of my days on The Bluff. I do recall that Jim Covert and I co-edited an interesting book during the tumultuous late 1960s. I am not sure if there would be any interest in mentioning this for today’s faculty and students but perhaps some older folks might find this information of some interest. It has been years since I was last on the U.P. campus, but I love perusing your website!” Thanks for writing, Dr. Vaccaro, once a Pilot, always a Pilot, we like to say. Robert Vincent McLaughlin, a longtime friend and benefactor of the University, passed away peacefully at the age of 94 on July 9, 2011 in Santa Barbara, California. A generous man by nature, he established not one but two student scholarships here at the University. Bob was born in Cleveland, Ohio on February 15, 1917, the eldest of five children. He attended St. Vincent de Paul parochial school and West High School in Cleveland. After high school graduation, Bob worked for three years as a journeyman machinist to earn enough money to pay for his first years of college. He graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 1941 with a B.A. degree in philosophy. After graduation, World War II interrupted his business career, and Bob entered the U.S. Navy, where he served as a lieutenant on aircraft carriers off the northern coast of Africa and in the South Pacific. During a three day leave in May of 1944, Bob flew from his port of call to marry his college sweetheart, Mary Agnes Kelly of Akron, Ohio. After the war, Bob reopened his career working with Union Carbide Corporation, and in 1947 Bob and Mary, with their first child, Dennis Michael, moved to Manila, Philippines. They lived there for seven years and had their next two
C L A S S children, Theresa and Patrick. Bob and Mary enjoyed extensive international travel during their years there. Bob’s career in the Philippines also included time with the Pacific Merchandising Corporation. In 1954, Bob and Mary moved to Santa Barbara, Calif., where their next three children, Christopher, Molly, and Matthew were born. Bob and Mary became active members of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Parish and School, the hub of their lives for the next 50 years. After some time with the investment firm J. Henry Helser and Co., Bob began his long career as a stockbroker with Paine Webber Jackson and Curtis in 1960. In 1968, Bob and Mary welcomed into their home and became legal guardians of six of their nieces and nephews: Karen, Joseph, Mark, Barbara, Susan, and Matt Kelly of Riverside, California. Bob worked until the age of 77 and then spent his remaining years travelling whenever he could, walking the beach at Shark’s Cove, and enjoying time with Mary. Bob and Mary were generous to friends and family alike, and together they funded numerous educational scholarship endowments at Saint Mary’s College, Notre Dame, Indiana and at the University of Portland. Bob will be remembered for his respect of education and his love of reading, the beach, football, and international travel. He had a deep empathy for those struggling in life. His family will remember his Sunday morning pancake breakfasts, sunny days at the Coral Casino, horseback riding in the Montecito foothills, his attendance at Villanova, Bishop Garcia Diego, and Santa Barbara High School football games, his faithful volunteer work at Catholic Charities and Our Lady of Mount Carmel, and his warm, deep laugh. Bob is survived by his wife of 67 years, Mary Kelly McLaughlin, and by all of his children: Dennis Michael McLaughlin, Theresa McLaughlin Patterson, Patrick Augustine McLaughlin, Christopher John McLaughlin, Mary ("Molly") McLaughlin Rhine, and Matthew Vincent McLaughlin, as well as Karen Marie Kelly, Joseph Adolph Kelly, Mark Charles Kelly, Barbara Kelly, Susan Ledig, and Matthew Patrick Kelly. He touched the lives of his numerous grandchildren and his 42 nieces and nephews. He is also survived by his brother, Thomas (Sally)
McLaughlin. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Portland Magazine editor and irrepressible campus wag Brian Doyle has been awarded the ForeWord Reviews 2010 Book of the Year Award for Fiction for his novel Mink River. Of 215 books given awards, Mink River was one of two that earned the highest distinction of Editor’s Choice. The award was recently announced at the annual American Library Association convention. ForeWord Reviews, a journal dedicated to reviewing independently published books, awarded Mink River the Editor’s Choice for Fiction, the top prize available for a fiction novel. Doyle is the author of ten books, including The Grail, Thirsty for the Joy: Australian and American Voices, Epiphanies and Elegies, and The Wet Engine. Doyle’s essays have appeared in The New York Times, The Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, Orion, The American Scholar, and in newspapers and magazines around the world. His essays have also been reprinted in the annual Best American Essays, Best American Science & Nature Writing, and Best American Spiritual Writing anthologies. He also puts out a darned fine magazine, four times a year, if we may say so ourselves.
DEATHS H.J. Belton Hamilton ’50, April 15, 2011, West Linn, Ore. Rev. Charles T. Borho ’50, July 9, 2011, Beaverton, Ore. Kevin Van Hoomissen ’50, ’54, ’60, May 20, 2011, Portland, Ore. Frank Luizzi ’51, April 22, 2011, Portland, Ore. Mary Barbara (Ryan) Dougherty ’51, July 16, 2011. Glyn Steiner ’52, March 25, 2011, Tumwater, Wash. Lois Mae Ladich ’54, May 18, 2011, Portland, Ore. Robert Donald Saltvig ’54, January 15, 2011, Seattle, Wash. Diane Marian (Della Santina) Baldrica ’55, May 11, 2011, in Ashland, Ore. Harvey M. Maloney ’58, July 17, 2011, Woodland, Wash. Janice (McIntyre) Lishan ’61, March 9, 2011, Vancouver, Wash. William Gratton ’61, June 23, 2011, Los Angeles, Calif. Lloyd W. Fowler ’64, June 20, 20121, Portland, Ore. Daniel A. Grbavac ’64, ’66, July 26, 2011, Beaverton, Ore. Doran Henry Stoltenberg ’65, December 31, 2009, Juneau, Alaska. Ronald August Parno ’74, April 21, 2011, Portland, Ore. Joan E. Bartlett ’89, June 24,
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N O T E S Rev. Ambrose Wheeler, C.S.C., passed away on July 10, 2011, at Holy Cross House in Notre Dame, Ind. He was 92 years old. A native of Roscrea of Tipperary, Ireland, he attended St. Lawrence O’Toole Parish School in Dublin. “In those years early years, he learned quite clearly that the Irish Fathers were always right and he pretty much followed the life of a typical ‘Irish-Catholic-Boy,’” according to his obituary. At the age of 11, he immigrated with his family to Brooklyn, N.Y. It was around that time he first learned of the Holy Cross fathers, and by 1933 he had begun his studies at Holy Cross Seminary. He was ordained as a priest in Sacred Heart Church at Notre Dame on June 13, 1947. Fr. Wheeler taught biology at the University of Portland from 1952 to 1967, with a stint as chaplain of the Salzburg Program in its early days, in 1964. His service on The Bluff was followed by an assignment teaching at St. Dominic Collgeg in St. Charles, Ill., from 1967 to 1968, and then he moved to Dacca, East Pakistan, to teach at Notre Dame College, ultimately becoming Rector of the College. Teaching assignments followed in Indiana, California; Florida; and Arizona. A group of Fr. Wheeler’s students from U.P. made a point of visiting him at Holy Cross House for many years, made up of mostly class of ’67 members who went to Salzburg, including Larry LaRocco ’67, who was instrumental in setting up the Rev. Ambrose Wheeler, C.S.C. Endowed Scholarship. Our prayers and condolences to Fr. Ambrose’s many friends, students, colleagues, and family members. 2011, Portland, Ore. James Shaun Squires ’89, July 21, 2011, McMinnville, Ore. James M. Bjorklund, father of Mark Bjorklund ’90, May 14, 2011. Jack Terry Flaig ’90, June 23, 2011, Sequim, Wash.
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Robert “Bob” Reischman, May 19, 2011, Portland, Ore. Rev. Ambrose Wheeler, C.S.C., July 10, 2011, Notre Dame, Ind. Robert “Bob” Vincent McLaughlin, July 9, 2011, Santa Barbara, Calif.
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PHOTO BY NATHANIEL WILDER
Speaking on campus on Veterans’ Day last year: Air Force General Dana Atkins ’77, who is essentially in charge of defending America from the northwest. “Today we pay tribute to the 23 million men and women who have worn the uniform of the United States of America,” he said. “They have humbled dictators, liberated continents, and set a standard of courage and idealism for the entire world. And this morning 2.4 million Americans are in uniform, defending freedom and peace. Have the grace to help them and their families. Have the grace to say thanks for your life and your freedom and your future. Have the courage to embrace the values our veterans fought and died for, the values 2.4 million of us fight for today. America is a grand experiment, a wild-eyed notion in the winds of human history. The life we have here isn’t guaranteed. There is a price for it. Have the grace, this morning, to say thanks to those who pay it.”
Portland 48
CREDIT RUSS SCHULZ, TREEHOUSE PORTRAITS
Here’s a Campaign story. These hands delivered some seven hundred babies into the world. These hands soothed some seven hundred exits from the world. These hands tested reflexes and gauged temperatures and examined bruises and brokenness on more than a hundred thousand children, women, and men in Warm Springs, Oregon. Very many of the patients these patient hands touched were Wasco, Warm Springs, and Paiute people whose ancestors had lived in Oregon for ten thousand years. One of the children whom Doctor Tom Manning ’76 delivered into this world, using both hands to be sure he made the catch, now roams center field for the Boston Red Sox, their first great center fielder in forty years: All-Star Jacoby Ellsbury. Well-played, Thomas Martin Manning. Want to help the University shape and mold and foment and sculpt healers and nurses and doctors and cheerful witnesses to holiness like Tom? See rise.up.edu, or call the equally cheerful Diane Dickey at 503.943.8130, dickey@up.edu.
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COURTESY OF HENRY HALL
,THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE INIMITABLE,
PROFESSOR ROGER O. DOYLE, as effervescent, ebullient, exuberant, mellifluous, cheerful, charming, and musical a man as ever set foot on The Bluff, which he graced for 37 years until his retirement last year, hammered by Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Here he is in college, on the tuba for the University of Wichita Sigma Phi Epsilon Dixieland Band, which never actually played a note and was convened only for this sudden silly photograph in the Wichita Eagle. Roger and his graceful gentle bride Kay have established their eponymous Fund for Choral Musicians at the University; now there’s a cool way to celebrate the hilarious, generous, booming, gracious, endlessly entertaining Rogerness of Roger. See www.rise.up for details on aiming your Campaign gift at Kay and Roger’s dream. Our prayers and laughter. We miss you, maestro.