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When I was a schoolboy, several hundred years ago, the custom of our teachers, each and every one a Sister of the Order of Preachers, was that if you forgot your lunch, or had it stolen under assault and occasionally battery, you were sent, curiously without ignominy, to the adjacent convent, where Sister Cook, a spherical woman with the immense burly forearms of a stevedore, would make you a peanut butter and jam sandwich, or a peanut butter and honey sandwich, your choice; and you would eat your sandwich at the huge old wooden table in her kitchen, a table as big and gnarled as a ship, as she bustled about doing this and that, and she would offer you milk or water, your choice, and she never had a tart or testy word for you, but would even occasionally haul up a tall wooden stool to the table, and perch upon it, as golden dust and swirls of flour drifted through the bars of sunlight, and ask you questions about your family, all of whom she knew, partly because your brothers and sister had sat at this same table, and eaten of the Sisters’ bread and honey, and then been sent back through the tiny lush convent garden and through the vaulting wooden fence, emerging into the chaos of the schoolyard, where screaming children sprinted this way and that, some grabbing each other by the hair or necktie, until the bell rang, and we again fell into lines ordered by grade and teacher, and shuffled burbling back into the echoing hallways, therein to be educated. Many a man has written elegiacally or bitterly of his education under the adamant will and firm hands of the Sisters of this world, but not so many have sung the quiet corners where perhaps we were better educated than we were in our classrooms, with their rows of desks and pillars of chalk and Maps of the World. Perhaps I learned more about communion at that epic timbered table in that golden kitchen than I did in religion class. Perhaps I learned more about listening as prayer from Sister Cook than I did from any number of speakers on any number of subjects. Perhaps I soaked up something subtle and telling and substantive and holy about service and commitment and promise from Sister Cook, who did not teach a class, nor rule the religious education curriculum, nor conduct religious ritual and observance in public, but quietly served sandwiches to more small hungry shy children than anyone can count, in her golden redolent kitchen, with its table bigger than a boat. Sometimes there would be two of us, or even three, sitting quietly at that table, mowing through our sandwiches, using two hands to hoist the heavy drinking glasses that the Sisters used; they must have had herculean wrists, the Sisters of the Order of Preachers, after years of such glasses lifted to such lips; and Sister would wait until all of us were done, and we would mumble our heartfelt gratitude, and bring our dishes to her spotless sink, and be shown the door; and never once that I remember did any child, including me, ever ask her about herself, her trials and travails, her delights and distractions, what music she loved, what stories, what extraordinary birds; we ran down the path toward the vaulting wooden fence, heedless; and only now do I stop and turn back and look her in the face and say thank you, Sister, for your gentle and delicious gift, which was not the sandwich, savory as peanut butter and honey can be, but you. Brian Doyle is the editor of this magazine, and the author most recently of the novel Martin Marten.
KERSTIN WARWICK/GETTY IMAGES
SISTER COOK
F E A T U R E S 14 / Thy Womb Jesus, by Sonja Livingston The chant and song and ache and yearn of the Rosary: a note. 16 / New Nurse, photographs by Steve Hambuchen, notes by Clare Scheer ’15 With a bright nervous nursing student as she begins the famous last step: clinicals.
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20 / Fold Fast Thy Child, by Mel Livatino Maybe the point of prayer is for us to step into God’s life, not the other way around.
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22 / Following Paul, by Brad Myers ’03 On the legendary Saint Paul Trail in Turkey, with an (energetic and tireless) alumnus. 26 / Prairie Grass, by Father LeRoy Clementich, C.S.C. Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem mea – to God, Who giveth joy to my youth. 28 / They Who Tread the Path of Labor, Visiting the University’s hardest workers in their campus homes.
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3 / Father Ted Hesburgh, C.S.C.: rest in peace 4 / The one and only Raymond Robert Bard retires 5 / Dusk by the bell tower: the Easter vigil 6 / My season tickets: a note 7 / The annual hilarious mother-daughter hoop clinic 8 / “No Negroes, Chinese, or Japanese”: a note 9 / Young Mr. Gregory Wode ’37, of Corrado Hall 10 / ‘I Love you Every Time’: an essay by Matthew Vanderlaan ’11 11 / Some other campus residents than tall lanky young people 12 / Sports, starring the best three-point shooter in North America (!) 13 / Briefly, starring the national champion Beacon student newspaper (!) 36 / Class Notes 48 / Less Travelled Roads
THE UNIVERSITY OF PORTLAND MAGAZINE
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Cover photograph by Rachel Roscoe Lindberg ’96. Every once in a while you see a photograph that gives you the happy willies, and isn’t this one of those photographs?
Summer 2015: Vol. 34, No. 2 President: Rev. Mark Poorman, C.S.C. Founding Editor: John Soisson Editor: Brian Doyle Amused Bemused Musing Designers: Joseph Erceg ’55 & Chris Johnson Mooing Assistant Editors: Marc Covert ’93 & Amy Shelly ’95 Fitfully Contributing Editors: Louis Masson, Terry Favero, Mary Beebe Portland is published quarterly by the University of Portland. Copyright ©2015 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) 943-8225, 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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“When the hummingbird sinks its face into the trumpet vine,” sings the great American poet Mary Oliver, “I am scorched to realize once again how many small, available things are in the world... that nobody owns or could buy...” ¶ Summer is camp and conference season on The Bluff: soccer, basketball, volleyball, rowing, even a strength and conditioning camp. See portlandpilots.com for details. ¶ Among the saints of August: John Vianney of Ars, France, who was brought up in a France where Catholicism was forbidden, refused to serve in Napoleon’s army, hid deep in the mountains and started a rural school, became a priest and heard confessions 16 hours a day, said that his great task was simple tenderness, and died on August 4, 1859. Pope John XXIII himself visited Ars, and Pope Benedict XVI so admires the Cure of Ars that he dedicated the Year of the Priest, 2009, in his name.
Arts & Letters
In Mago Hunt Theater from June 5-28: Gilbert & Sullivan’s hilarious HMS Pinafore, the annual summer Mock’s Crest light opera production. ¶ The University annually sponsors ticket packages to musicals downtown at Portland Opera’s Broadway series: this summer it’s Wicked (August 7). Information: Connie Ozyjowski, ozyjowsk@up.edu. ¶ Among Garaventa Center speakers this year: Carroll College’s Katherine Greiner, on how nuns are saving Catholic higher education (Oct-ober 15), and Seton
The University
To be dedicated September 24: The gleaming spotless startling huge amazing Father Bill Beauchamp Rec Center, the final piece of the remarkably successful Rise Campaign during Father Bill’s presidency from 2004 to 2014. It’s basically a new and way cooler Howard Hall... ¶ ...into which the Army cadet detachment will move this summer, though the gym stays open. ¶ Back on the Bluff this summer, as director of campus ministry: Father Jim Gallagher, C.S.C., who has been the Congregation of Holy Cross’ vocation czar since 2009. ¶ Sentenced back to Notre Dame, to earn his doctorate: Jim’s predecessor, the blunt honest wry Father Mark DeMott, C.S.C., whose classic Chicago accent we will miss. ¶ Retiring in July, after ten years as nursing professor and dean: the glorious Joanne Warner. See page 48. ¶ Starting
planning this summer on the corner of Portsmouth and Willamette, next to Haggerty Hall: a much-needed new residence hall. ¶ And Villa Maria gets new windows (finally), Buckley Center gets new classrooms, the ancient campus steam-pipe system closes up shop (after a century), and the Pilot House gets a total rebuild, reopening in Novemberish.
Student Life
Back for his sophomore year in August: the nation’s best debater, Alex Parini ’18, from Happy Valley, Oregon. Alex won the national title in March in Boise and has been grinning ever since. ¶ Nine May graduates joined the Peace Corps this summer; the University ranks 20th nationally in producing Peace Corps volunteers. Some 300 alumni have been Peace Corps volunteers in the 54 years since it was founded by Senator Hubert Humphrey. ¶ Back for her senior years: Katie Dunn, editor of the best weekly college newspaper in America, The Beacon. Lovely phrase, that. ¶ The University expects more than 11,000 applications, from more than 40 states and 20 countries, for 940 freshman spots; the average freshman will have a 3.7 g.p.a. or better, and 75% of the freshmen will be from out of state. California, Oregon, Washington, and Hawaii, in that order, produce the most freshmen on The Bluff.
The Faculty
Away to China this fall on a Fulbright: the lanky Henry Adams scholar and professor and deputy provost John Orr. ¶ Away to Japan this fall on his Fulbright: sociologist Nick McRee. ¶ Back to full time teaching and physiology research: biologist and Pilot soccer conditioning coach
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Terry Favero, who has also been an associate dean in recent years. ¶ The wry gentle brilliant assistant archivist Martha Wachsmuth died in May 4 at age 94; Martha retired only three years ago, after 41 years of storycatching on The Bluff. ¶ On campus in May: the National College Theology Society Conference. ¶ First day of fall classes: Monday, August 31. ¶ Among intriguing faculty adventures recently: business’ Sam Holloway, the Beer Guru, being profiled in China’s craft beer magazine, The Beer Link.
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Born June 26, 1962, in Clarksville, Virginia: the late Jerome Kersey, who died in February at age 52. A furiously energetic forward for the Portland Trailblazers from 1984 to 1995, he won a title with the Spurs in 1999, but was a Rose City man at heart, and spent years as the Blazers’ alumni director and general goodwill ambassador. By all accounts a gentle and graceful man. Prayers. ¶ Summer, sixty years ago: June 5, Germany is divvied into four pieces; June 26, the United Nations charter is signed; July 5, U.S. Navy planes attack Tokyo; July 16, the first nuclear bomb test in New Mexico; July 26, Churchill’s party is crushed in England’s election and he is ousted as prime minister; August 2, Hiroshima is obliterated; August 9, Nagasaki is obliterated; August 14, all American forces are told to halt action; August 15, Japan’s Emperor Hirohito surrenders, on the radio. Indonesia declares independence, two days later; China’s civil war begins four days later. On September 2, Ho Chi Minh, drawing on a copy of the American Declaration of Independence given him by American soldiers, declares an independent Vietnam.
ARTWORK BY MARY MILLER DOYLE
The Season
Hall’s Marianne Lloyd, on the psychology of humor (February 9). Info: 503.943.7702. ¶ The Garaventa Center for Catholic Life will host the fine writer and terrific speaker Tim Egan on September 17, delivering the annual Zahm Lecture, this year on Saint Francis and his namesake Pope Francis. ¶ September 30: the annual Red Mass honoring those in the law. The tall celebrant will be Archbishop Alexander Sample of Portland; the dinner speaker will be Father David Link, chaplain of the Indiana State Penitentiary, and long the law dean at Notre Dame and St. Thomas. ¶ The fall semester Schoenfeldt Series guest: the great Australian journalist Martin Flanagan, Nov. 5. Spring’s guest: Laila Lalami, author of The Moor’s Account – the University’s Campus Reads selection for 2015-2016. Details for both: bdoyle@up.edu.
The legendary Father Ted Hesburgh, one of the great men in the history of the Congregation of Holy Cross in America, died in February, at age 97. Long the president of Notre Dame (1952-1987), he spoke on The Bluff four times, twice for presidential inaugurations (Fathers Tom Oddo and Dave Tyson). A remarkable man, Father Ted – eloquent civil rights activist, passionate about gender equality and interfaith goodwill, articulate enemy of nuclear weaponry. A good man, a decent man, who often said his greatest ambition was to be a good priest. Rest in peace, good priest. Summer 2015 3
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The one and only Raymond Robert Bard, who retired from the faculty this spring after a glorious 29 years teaching chemistry and Being Ray Bard. Yes, he won the University’s star teacher award, and yes, he published in journals, and yes, he served on a blizzard of committees, but it was his cheerful absolute dedication to students present and past that he will be best remembered for – and his wild suspenders and ties and Whitmanesque beard and unflagging energy and interest in everyone. Travel in beauty, Raymond. Portland 4
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PHOTO BY BOB KERNS
One of the most haunting moments of the University’s year: Easter Vigil, which begins at dusk on Holy Saturday with a roaring bonfire by the bell tower. The Easter candle is lit from this fire, and brought carefully reverently flitteringly inside the Chapel of Christ the Teacher; after the late Mass there is a thunderous party at which those baptized during the service are celebrated and congratulated. Every year this light in the darkness gives us the beautiful shivers.
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MY SEASON TICKETS In the mail this morning I find my Pilot soccer season ticket renewal form, and I sit and stare at it for a while, pondering. Probably this is the year I should let these three friendly familiar sunwarmed rain-soaked steel spaces go. I have had them for twenty years, since the tiny calm astonishing whirlwind called Tiffeny Milbrett was the best player in America right in front of me and my children week after week. I sat in those seats with my lovely bride and our children and nieces and nephews and friends and donors on Sunday afternoons when it was so hot and bright that people wearing shorts yelped when they sat down. We sat in those seats under umbrellas and ponchos and rainjackets and one time a reflector blanket that a child found in a secret corner of the car. We sat in those seats on the coldest most windless frozen night I can ever remember, as part of a tremendous standing-room-only crowd for a game against the University of Notre Dame. We saw the Pilots play all the best college teams in America and the national teams of Canada and Mexico. We saw a game pitting the Pilots against a Pilot alumni team which featured, by my count, half of the ten best players in the world on the field at the same time, laughing and razzing and trying to score from insane angles. From those seats we saw the single hardest shot we ever saw, a stupendous rocket from Shannon MacMillan, launched a second or two after she crossed midfield, and landing in exactly the tiny space she was aiming for, in the
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upper right corner of the goal, a feat that still amazes me when I think about it, which I do more often than you would think. How could a human foot speak to a soccer ball in such a way that the ball would do exactly what it had been asked? Our seats had great neighbors, kindly funny affable people who would share water and programs and baseball caps if necessary. Our seats were not too high or too low. Our seats surveyed both sides of the field equally, so you could actually see a player streak into the far corner and rescue a ball and lash it back across the goal to a diving Megan Rapinoe or Christine Sinclair or Betsy Barr or Justi Baumgardt or Amanda Frisbie or Ellen Parker and there’s that split second when no one is sure if the ball actually went over the goal line and then all at once the whole crowd rises and roars and the Pilots caper delightedly and the other team looks dejected and the other team’s goalie is disgruntled and annoyed and she slams the post with her hand and says something vulgar and scurrilous under her breath and the Pilots are up by two with twenty minutes to play. I would guess that we laughed at the hilarious student chants a hundred times from our seats, and grinned as the Villa Maria guys ran past our section with their phone numbers written on their backs, and smiled as the announcer rattled off all the girls’ soccer teams joining us this afternoon from Tualatin and Scappoose and Brush Prairie. A hundred times we stood and applauded as the Pilot players en masse ran toward our section, applauding us. A hundred times we booed the referee, and admired Coach Garrett Smith’s calm dignity, and smiled at the tiny Pilot For a Day ballgirl sprinting out
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to stand with the Pilot starters before the national anthem. A hundred times we sang along with the national anthem, thinking of the men and women who had the courage to try to stuff bullies and criminals back into the squirming dark holes from which they came. A hundred times we sent the kids down to get hotdogs. Half a hundred times we got a cold delicious dense beer at halftime and savored every blessed drop. We saw the best players. We saw the best teams. We saw a hundred victories. We saw not one but two national championship teams rise and soar before our eyes over the course of a season. We saw maybe the best college soccer coach there ever was. But it was never about the victories and the famous names. It was about something else altogether. It was about the general burble and chaffing before the game. It was about lounging along the rail and watching the teams warm up. It was about the Villa Drum Squad beginning their thunderous rumble way across campus and everyone in the crowd smiling and little kids saying excitedly here they come! It about the patent populous sigh when a Pilot just missed a shot, or the shocked silence as our goalie bent to pick up an opposing shot from the sagging back of her net, or the audible crunch of two superb college athletes colliding in the corner and amazingly both leaping up unhurt, wow, and the grim look on the linesman’s face as he ignores vituperative abuse from the other team’s martinet coach, and the brilliant colors of every uniform, and the whirl and furl of a hawk over the lush lawn of the field, and the plaintive finality of the horn at the end of play, and the way we picked our way slowly and lazily down out of the stands, and shuffled toward the parking lot with everyone else, but just before you get to the gate, you stop and turn and cast one last long look at the field, and think what a lovely afternoon this is in America, what a lovely example of college sports at its least tinny and shrill and greedy and false and violent. And then we went home happy, maybe honking cheerfully at the other cars with Pilot soccer decals, just to make the children laugh. I renewed my seats. Sure I did. Some things are worth far more than their price. — Brian Doyle
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PHOTOS BY STEVE HAMBUCHEN
Among the funniest annual events on The Bluff: the Mother-Daughter Basketball Clinic. There’s lots of laughter anyway, but watching daughters learn how to box out their mothers is hilarious.
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THE COVENANT
was expected. The initial covenants of 1924 excluded “any Negro, Chinese or Japanese.” But the Yeons must have realized that they had not been thorough enough, so in 1926 they In 1990, after two years at the Univer- added an additional set of covenants sity of Portland, I was ready to buy my that, among other items, prohibited first house. I knew where I wanted to “any Italians, Greeks, Hindus, Armelive: along Willamette Boulevard, from nians, or Indians, except as domestic Chautauqua Boulevard east, in what servants.” is called the Mock Crest subdivision, Oregon history is full of examples where the older houses appealed to of misreatment of racial and ethnic minorities. African Americans were me. Amazingly, I found the house officially banned from the area when I wanted, and got it almost instantly. It was built in 1927, the second house Oregon became a state. There were very few black people in Oregon until completed on the block. In March the Second World War brought work1990 I received all the paperwork ers from around the United States for on the house, and sat down to read labor in the Kaiser shipyard on Swan it carefully. Island, below the bluff. Asians were Paperwork has a bothersome a source of cheap labor and a target allure to me; if I don’t at least scan it I fear that there might be something of concern that will come up later. (I once read the contract for a Sears credit card while standing at the store’s service counter, which startled the clerk.) So I pored through the bundle of papers that came with the house. Most of it was standard stuff, but one document caught my eye, typeset in an old-fashioned style, not typewritten or with blanks filled in by hand. This was a complete, formal document and it turned out to be the covenants established by the developers. My subdivision was created by John and Elizabeth Yeon. She was a daughter of the Mock family, who lived in the big Victorian house that still stands on Willamette Boulevard, next to the Columbia Park Annex; most alumni and students would recognize it on sight. I suppose that she inherited the land that became the Mock Crest subdivision. Her son John, by the way, became for persecution. Italian immigrants a prominent Portland architect; had been a big issue in the U.S. at the two of his modernist houses are turn of the 20th century, particularly located on Chautauqua Boulevard the Catholic, dark, southern Italians. at Lombard Street. There were enough Italians in Port The Yeons set criteria for what land to build Saint Philip Neri, my they hoped would be a beautiful neighborhood. Houses on Willamette own parish on Division, so perhaps along the bluff were required to cost the Yeons were concerned about at least $4,000. Back from the bluff, them, too. I read the covenants with amazehouses had to cost at least $2,500. ment. In 1944 the covenants had Large setbacks from the street were specified. Owners couldn’t have cattle been renewed for another twenty years, so they were officially in force or run a business from their home. Crematories and hospitals were speci- nearly until the Fair Housing Act of 1968. This overlapped with the time fically banned. It would be a nice during and after the Second World place to live and raise a family. War when Portland bankers and real In the 1920s, racial covenants estate agents conspired to keep were one way to establish a “nice” black people from buying houses neighborhood. The Yeons did what
“No part of said land shall be used or occupied by any Negro, Chinese, Japanese, Italians, Greeks, Hindus, Armenians, or Indians, except that persons of said races may be employed thereon as servants...”
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anywhere except in the red lined neighborhoods of North Portland, east of the Interstate 5. I moved out of the house in 2007, but I keep a copy of the covenants in my office, and every January, around Martin Luther King Day, I read them to my classes, after which I ask the students where they think they originated. The obvious answer is the South, so they hesitate to answer. When I tell them that this occurred in our neighborhood they are surprised, but they don’t seem shocked or outraged. Perhaps this is distant history for them. Sadly, it’s not really distant, nor history, as anyone who lives and works and pays attention to north and northeast Portland can see. When I was in high school, I tell my students, the only athletic activity available for the girls was wimpy six-on-six basketball; this was long before girls’ soccer leagues. So every year I poll my students. How many of the women took part in athletics before they came to UP? Almost every hand is raised. Then I explain that the women’s movement was energized in great part by the black civil rights movement. The work of Martin Luther King, Jr. and others has had a profound impact on their lives, even if they don’t realize that yet. Finally, I ask my students a last question. In fifty years, what issues from 2015 will be seen in a very different light, just as we look back on these racial covenants from the 1920s and wonder how it could possibly have been that way? Recent student suggestions include the role of women and minorities in politics, business, and community life; seamless disability access; continuing challenges around race; gay marriage; the fair distribution of wealth; and the minimum wage. These are questions and challenges for their lifetime, long after they have been my students at the University of Portland. I may be a music professor, but I very much want their education to be much broader than my own discipline. That, I think, is what we mean by educating the whole person; and that, I often think, is the single most valuable part of an education here on The Bluff. Michael Connolly has been a music professor at the University since 1988; he is also a noted composer and singer.
Young Mr Gregory Wode, or The Dorm Baby, as he was cheerfully labeled by The Beacon student newspaper this spring. Gregory’s parents are Mike and Jessica Wode, who are, respectively, Corrado Hall’s director and the residence life office’s manager extraordinaire. Gregory was adopted at birth and is now the youngest resident of Corrado. “Just another addition to the hall family,” says a (sleepless) Mike Wode.
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but because I sometimes didn’t feel Ever read Once Upon a Town, by like facing another day of numbness. Bob Greene? It’s about North Platte, I said it aloud as I drove past families Nebraska, and how that town out on walks along Willamette Boule- opened its hearts and kitchens to vard, parents holding their children, the soldiers moving by train to the Pacific theater in the Second Recently I was babysitting a little girl everyone smiling so brightly in crisp World War. The residents gave I’d known since she was in the womb. afternoon air. I love you every time. This was the soldiers free food and shoe shines She was three years old. I call her by kind of love that made my eyes wet and compassion, and the soldiers her middle names because they are ship off to war, and it is reported really, actually, on-her-birth-certificate with tears when I read stories of parents and children coming to see each that soldiers sitting on the frontthe words Starlight Ninja. We were other fully. This was the love I found lines would say, Remember North walking to the park with the family Platte? and they would all smile, dog. Starlight Ninja was pulling on my lacking in the world, why belief divleft hand while Luna the dog tugged ided people and wars were fought.This because, as Garrison Keillor says, love conquers fear. on my right. I was happy to be there, was the love I heard in my mother’s It was Starlight Ninja who spoke even if my mind goes into overdrive voice every time we talked. This was the love I wanted so desperately to to me; it was God who spoke to when I’m with Starlight Ninja: sudgive to others. The kind of love I felt me. God is love. God loves us every denly I have to be a parent, I have time. As a priest friend of mine once to keep her happy and safe, because pour out of my being so intensely I might explode if I tried to keep it in. said, there is one thing that God canher parents trust me with her vivaAnd the people who need such love not do: not be God. God can never cious life. fill my life. My father’s mother died not love. God loves constantly, no We came up the street beside the school, and saw the playground teem- afflicted with severe Alzheimer’s. We matter what we think makes us unlovable. Confession can be strange ing with other children. We heard the rarely speak of it, but my father, my joyous whooping of children running mother, and I all fear it could happen to non-Catholics, but the beauty of it is hearing someone say, as God’s and playing in the brisk air. Then this to my father. His lapses so far seem girl said these words to me: Matthew, small, but they are there, and they are humble representative, that we are slowly increasing, and my father rages still loved when we err, we are loved I love you every time. in his fear and pride and loss. I want every time. I didn’t think about those words to take his head in my hands and Starlight Ninja has wild hair and again until later, when I wondered flailing limbs and bright eyes. Somewhere they came from, and was she press our foreheads together and tell him I love him every time. times we prance around like fools, was mimicking something she heard Or my friend Wren, a brilliant film- me chasing her with a hamper on a parent say? I love you every time, maker. He has brought joy to millions my head and her giggles filling the I repeated, fascinated. of people through his humor and house. Sometimes we sit and read The next time I was at Mass, the storytelling. Millions! But he obsesses books about seahorses or warthogs. second reading was from the First Often she says I love you Matthew, Letter of John: Whoever does not love on criticism, letting it burrow into and now, finally, joyously, with all does not know God, because God is love. his mind and challenge his sense of accomplishment. I want to say to him my heart, I say I love you too, I love I couldn’t agree more; the God I beI love you every time, we love you you every time. lieve in is one who loves above all every time, be at peace… — Matthew Vanderlan ‘11 else. I’ve always been uncomfortable with the vengeful and jealous God of the Old Testament. The Song of THE ARMS OF GOD Solomon, with its images of God as a romantic lover, has always seemed to make more sense to me. And the I didn’t know I think he was a mouse or a bear, New Testament carries the certainty that God was such a hugger but I can’t be sure. of that love made manifest in Jesus. and I have proof. He was probably hired to pass out His followers may have been conThere was that time anniversary balloons to children, fused many times, as we are still, when we were moving homes but He saw me. but His message is clear: Love one across the many miles, and because He was God, another. As I have loved you, so you giant truck in the driveway, He must have known. must love one another. Because that boxes everywhere, He felt it. love is God, we make God present four hungry, tired young children, I was dying in our lives with every act of love. their home emptied of all to be carried I love you every time became a belongings, for a thousand years koan I tried to untangle, a mantra I were believing that I in His arms. whispered under my breath. When could pull off some That’s what happened walking past the homeless outside kind of dinner before we all and I wept all over his gray of Powell’s Books, I heard her voice dissolved. shoulders. again and tossed a five into a grimy I was herding them down the aisle I even have a Polaroid snapshot, cap, wishing the bedraggled man to full of child temptations a gift, stay warm. I heard it again, from my at the grocery store to prove own voice, as I walked across the St. when we met God. that I have been held in the arms John’s Bridge and felt the inexplicable He was wearing the Fred Meyer of God. urge to jump, not because I was sad mascot costume. – Christine McGreevy Portland 10
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There are a thousand students who live on The Bluff (and more soon, as we build another new residence hall), but there are, of course, millions of other beings resident on campus. Here are some, photographed by biology student Kelsie Orikasa, who was out and about every day with her camera as she did air-quality studies. They are a (burly) red-tailed hawk, a (moist) Townsend’s warbler, a ground squirrel, and an Anna’s hummingbird; the coyote, seen down on the river campus, was photographed by Katelin Stanley.
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scored for the Thorns, and the Reign featured Megan Rapinoe, Stephanie Cox, Danielle Foxhoven, Amanda Villa Maria hammered Christie Hall Frisbie, Ellie Reed, Ellen Parker, and in the annual heated fabled legendary Keelin Winters. Pilots rule. ¶ The Villa-Christie Soccer Derby, now 25 Pilot women, who have led the nation years old. The two all-male dorms for ten years in attendance, open (which started the Derby playing their 2015 season at home August 15 football) now get to play on Merlo against Oregon; the home slate inField, where the Villains won 10-0. cludes Oregon State (Aug. 21), BYU Men’s Basketball The Pilots finished (Oct. 13), and Santa Clara (Oct. 18). 17-16 and hosted a College Basketball The forbidding road slate includes Invitational Tournament playoff game Notre Dame (Aug. 30). (a close loss to Sacramento State), Baseball Tough year for the men, their first post-season berth since 10-35 at presstime. Madras’ Turner Gill 2010. Center Thomas van der Mars was having a great season, though, finished his career as the best Pilot leading the club in runs, homers, and shot-blocker ever, with 121, and was total bases. The renovated Joe Etzel named First Team Academic AllField is a glory; come see for yourself. America, the first Pilot ever so honNext up for renovations is lights for ored. Point guard Alec Wintering ’17 night games. was named all-WCC, and chosen as Tennis Terrific season for the Pilot MVP by his teammates. ¶ Among women, who rose to 48th in the counnew faces this summer for the Pilots: try, played for their first WCC title all-Texas center Ray Barreno, guard ever (#19 Pepperdine nipped them), Jazz Johnson (from Lake Oswego had two players nationally ranked High), and forward Chiir Maker (Lucia Butkovska, from Slovakia, and (from Sydney, Australia). Maja Mladenovic, from Serbia), and Women’s Basketball Downtown finished 17-6. ¶ For the men, Steffen Cassandra Brown (below) won the Dierauf, Reid deLaubenfels, and nation’s college 3-point shooting con- freshman Michail Pervolarakis were test this spring, beating Gonzaga’s named to the All-WCC team, and the Kevin Pangos at Butler U’s legendary men were also nationally ranked Hinkle Fieldhouse (and live on ESPN). this year (64th), finishing at 12-8. Brown, who was instantly a cheerful Rowing The Pilot varsity four earned media sensation in her native Canada, a bronze medal at the Western Interwas 7th nationally from long range, collegiate Championships on Lake at 44%, and finished 7th all-time in Natoma in California; the varsity eight and second eight also made their race finals. Some 60 women were on the roster this year, among them all-WCC rowers Hannah Johnson and Bridget Sloat – and this in only five years since the team was born on The Bluff. Track A wild spring: former Pilot basketball star Korey Thieleke, now earning a master’s degree as he uses his track eligibility, broke the Pilot record in the 400m twice in two days: 47.21 on Friday in one race, and 46.82 on Saturday in another. ¶ The women’s medley relay team also broke the University’s record twice in two weeks; it’s now 11:21. And Katherine Maus had perhaps the Pilot scoring. ¶ Tough year for the greatest single day in Pilot track hisPilots: they finished 4-26. ¶ Among tory, breaking three school records new faces this summer: three seain a day: the 60m (7.84), long jump soned transfer guards: Corissa Turley (18’ 5”), and the triple jump (38’ 9”). from California, and Holly Blades Wow. ¶ Track is coming into its own and Rachelle Owens from Idaho. at the right time: among the plans Women’s Soccer Eight Pilot alumnae for the new river campus is, at long were back on Merlo Field this spring, last, a track facility. Donor opp! when the Pilots played the profesCross Country Among the new faces sional Portland Thorns and Seattle this summer for the Pilots, third in Reign in exhibitions: Kendall Johnson America last year: Oregon state 4A
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champ Jakob Hiett and Washington state 1A champ Ryan Clarke (both 4.0 students at Sweet Home and Port Townsend high schools, respectively), and two-time California champ Caleb Webb of Big Bear. Volleyball Among the new faces this summer for new coach Ian Crouch: Lauren Naatz from Salt Lake City’s Judge Memorial Catholic High, where she led the state of Utah in digs, or saves of terrific shots from the other team, including 38 in a single game. That’s hard work. The University has welcomed students from Judge for a remarkable 85 consecutive years. Men’s Soccer The men open their regular season August 28 against Big Ten powerhouse Michigan State, will face national champ Virginia at Charlottesville, and start their WCC slate against Gonzaga on October 11. Back for the Pilots are all-WCC mid Eddie Sanchez, defender Hugo Rhoads, and sophomore strikers Erik Edwardson and Brandon Zambrano. Among the new faces: Reid Baez from Sprague High in Salem, Lionel Mills from King Kekaulike High on Maui, and Brennan Weber from Central Catholic High in Portland, whose dad Jim Weber ’89 played for the Pilots before a pro career with the Timbers and Sounders. Scott Leykam finished his third year as athletic director with a whopper interview in The Portland Tribune, during which he noted that UP has 13 varsity sports (with an impending 14th, beach volleyball), 285 student athletes, a budget of $13.9 million, the glorious new Beauchamp Rec Center (opening in August), a new 8-year contract with Nike, and epic plans for the new river campus below Corrado Hall: a tennis center, a track facility (finally), two soccer fields, and a boathouse for the rowers. SCHEDULES & TICKETS: PORTLANDPILOTS.COM, 503.954.8525.
PHOTO: STEVE WOLTMANN
Soccer magician Christine Sinclair ’05 on a new stamp!!
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Faculty Feats Two fall semester each freshman gets nearly $20,000 Fulbright grants for professors, one in scholarship aid from the Univerto John Orr (English) to go to China, sity itself. This is why the UniverBest in the Nation The Beacon and the other to Nick McRee (sociol- sity recruits gifts and donations so student newspaper won the prize as ogy), off to Japan. ¶ The Outstanding assiduously. the best small-college paper in America Teacher Award for this academic year: The Annual $100K Challenge from the College Media Association. Mark Pitzer (sociology). Outstanding winners this year: Nick Ost and Paul Wow. The Beacon also won four other Scholar: Mark’s department mate Dilley, for their company Townie national awards this year. With a bud- Martin Monto. The Culligan Medal, Shades, which makes sunglasses; get of 27 cents. See up/beacon.com the highest faculty honor, for exem- their social-media marketing is for the electric version. Congrats. plary service: to the calm patient wizardly, and they donate a meal Buckley Center gets a facelift this brilliant Norah Martin (sociology). to the homeless for every unit sold. summer: three new classrooms, new ¶ The graduate school commenceThe non-profit winner was Emma labs psychology labs in the basement, ment speaker: Yale professor and Englund, for her Greatest Generation a new art studio, and new space for superb essayist Anne Fadiman, who Project, which collects stories from the Shepard Freshman Resource asked everyone “why don’t you the shrinking numbers of World War Center and the studies abroad office read more?” II veterans and makes those stories (from which the brilliant dignified Tuition on The Bluff goes up 4.4%, available in many forms for future Father Art Wheeler C.S.C., finally to $40,000 a year, and room and board generations. retires to leap back into teaching goes up 4.5%; the University remains Recycling numbers of note: 100 history, which he loves). Art person- among the most reasonably priced tons of stuff annually (tin, glass, ally created the modern booming private colleges in the West, though, plastic, paper, cardboard, wood, foreign study programs on campus according to U.S. News & World metals, and electronic gadgetry; over the last 25 years; a third of the Report. Some 97% of UP students 18 years ago, when the University student body now studies abroad need and receive financial aid hired recycling czar Sean Smith, during their tenures, and students directly from the University, not as the annual recyc number was 5,000 can choose from 25 countries. federal or private loans; on average pounds, and just paper. The Pilot House also gets rebuilt this summer, and will reopen late The Schoenfeldt Series visiting writer November 5: Australian author Martin this fall with, unbelievably, a campus Flanagan, speaking about race and Lincoln and sport and music and much else. pub inside. ¶ Also in the works this His talk is free and open to all. Information: bdoyle@up.edu. year: a new residence hall, as yet unnamed (donor opp!), on the corner of Portsmouth and Willamette, across from the Chiles Center. ¶ And the gleaming Beauchamp Rec Center opens late this summer, with three basketball courts, a climbing wall, rooms for yoga and etc. Howard Hall still stands, creakily. Student Feats Six Fulbright Scholars this year among University seniors, all of whom will teach English in Germany, Turkey, and Mexico; UP students have earned a whopping 54 Fulbrights in recent years. ¶ The new student body president: civil engineering major Khalid Osman, from Kenya, one of the nation’s 1,000 Gates Scholars; the vice-president is Grace Holmes, a brilliant soul who spent part of her youth homeless and is passionately eloquent about youth issues. What a ticket. ¶ The University’s accounting team finished second in the nation in an annual contest sponsored by KPMG. The faculty advisor: Ellen Lippman, of course. ¶ The 2015 valedictorian: Katelyn Stanley, who worked three jobs at once to afford college, and is now off to Florida on a full-ride biology Ph.D. ¶ Hall with the highest g.p.a.: Mehling, by a hair over Haggerty. Lowest: Villa. Most amusing engaged residents: Villa.
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Thy Womb Jesus The chant and song and ache of the Rosary: a note. by Sonja Livingston
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hey came to us from over the lake. Voices transmitted through the buzz of radio, carried through stations that were never quite clear – except during storms or certain times of night, the ionosphere thinning, allowing sound to sweep down from Ontario. Even then, the repetition caused the words to meld into a hum so that the women saying the rosary sounded like nothing so much as a rush of insects. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. The persistent press of prayer was like a spell. I imagined the rosary reciters dressed in robes, crosses gripped to their chests as they kneeled on uncarpeted floor, a circle of grackles, forming a sort of rosary of their bent bodies, black beads of supplication. Sometimes the voices came in French, Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce, and not understanding the words and the sound of them, lusher and looser in the mouth, granted the French-speaking rosaries a greater sense of mystery. They were with us always. We might not hear them for a year, but then there they’d be again — in our car as we traveled along the New York State Thruway, inside the broken plaster walls of the old house in Albion, following us as we moved to the reservation near Batavia, into the motel room and apartments that followed, eventually landing with us on the tiny dead-end street in a crowded Rochester neighborhood. My sisters might listen a bit before turning the dial in search of music and I must have sneered at the sound, never revealing how drawn I was to the swoop of prayer coming from Erie or Buffalo or Cleveland, for what is the Rust Belt but a bastion for Catholics? No one I knew ever said them together, the rosary prayers, excepting
mothers, of course, who met in groups, in churches or living rooms carrying strands of beads, some wooden, others crystal or seed pearl. My mother’s fervor ebbed and flowed, but when it flowed, it came in scapular-filled waves, and she delved into stories of visitations and miracles. The rosary was pure delight, the high drama of heaven and hell combined with joint mediation and the pull of tradition—all woven together in delicate strands. The rosary was more appealing than the latest television miniseries or the juiciest bit of gossip. The best rosaries came from cathedrals far away, Paris or Rome. These were practically impossible to find in my neighborhood but one or two women had them and how proud they were of their foreign crucifixes and filigreed strings. Others came from the dead, handed down from mothers and great aunts, the sheen of history absolving the dullness of the beads. But most were fashioned of glass and came from a shrine near Niagara Falls with an oversized Virgin reigning from atop a giant Plexiglas globe. But no matter where from or from what material, the women took up their rosaries and prayed for relief from bad knees and lost husbands, for better pay, for difficult bosses, for the bishop, the pope, and all the saints in heaven. They prayed for upcoming surgeries, full recoveries, for the end of trouble in Ireland, the fall of communism, for world peace – and thought nothing of following up such lofty intentions with requests for cures from chronic eczema or infected mosquito bites. They prayed for good weather, for weight loss, for help with the electric bill. For difficult children, the resurrection of the dead, for life everlasting and the world without end. Amen. Summer 2015 15
But the voices on the radio were something other than mothers, something without beginning or end, a channel occasionally opening, an otherworldly hum looming larger than the sounds of home. Whether the transmission came from a motherhouse in Quebec or a retreat house in Lockport, a single voice called out the first line: Hail Mary full of grace, followed by the swarm of response: The Lord is with thee. The lone voice: Blessed art though amongst women. The amalgam of voices: And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. The words came and came, the prayers taking on forward motion, barreling over the space between womb and Jesus, the freight of the line gathering its own speed and rhythm, thywombjesus, as if Jesus were the organ and not the fruit, as if it the womb to be blessed was his. And what place did meaning have anyway? It was a poetry of sorts, tapping into wells beneath the surface, hitting a place beyond the reach of words. It was this that bore down upon me as I listened, whether in English: Holy Mary, Mother of God. Or French: Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu. The radio voices pushed through the ancient curtain of words, the Hail Marys and the Glory Bes, the words themselves not so much the point as the speaking of them together and aloud: Now and at the hour of our death. The murmuring a medicine: And blessed is the fruit of thywombjesus. Until, at the end of each decade, they paused for a moment and allowed themselves a collective breath before opening their mouths to begin again. From Sonja Livingston’s collection of essays, Queen of the Fall, from the University of Nebraska Press. Sonja is a professor of literature at the University of Memphis, in Tennessee.
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With a bright nervous nursing student as she begins the famous last step: clinicals. Notes by Clare Scheer ’15, photographs by Steve Hambuchen
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ursing student Clare Scheer ’15 spent two months this past fall on the neurovascular unit at Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Portland – 135 hours (of the required 765) of the famous ‘clinical’ experiences that every nursing student must complete before graduation and licensing. The clinical stint is a legend among nursing students, much discussed and anticipated from your very first nursing course; it is, for many students, their first actual sustained experience as a working nurse, with blood and tears and death and life and mistakes and endurance and prayer and loss and laughter immanent in every day at the hospital. We asked Clare to keep notes on her experiences and emotions, which she did with grace; we also asked the fine Oregon photographer Steve Hambuchen to try to catch some of the subtle moments in Clare’s day, which he did with his usual quiet panache. – Editor
The night before my shift, my assignments are posted on a piece of paper – just the patient’s last name and room number. I gather what I need for the following day and go home to research, read, and prepare. When I arrive in the morning, I log into Epic, the electronic healthcare record database, “assign” my patients, and read their charts– history, physicals, lab tests, reports, medications, doctors’ orders, notes from nurses, notes on physical or occupational therapy, etc. Then I attend ‘group report’ at 0700 hours and meet with my clinical instructor. Then I find the night-shift nurse for
my patients and get her report, and then finally I go meet my patients. I learn to try to anticipate how the day will go based on my very first interaction with them, groggy with sleep; I learn to try to feel the presence of the room, so to speak. First thing in the morning: introduce yourself to your patients. Draw back the curtain. Assess the environment. Check tubes and cords. Check IV bags and measure fluid. Check all monitors. Assess patient’s status. One subtle thing that you learn only in clinical is a far greater attentiveness to looks and facial expressions; you also learn to imagine others’ needs far more than usual. You learn that patients are frustrated and scared and out of their element. You learn that people are all over the map; some will be rude because they are scared and some will be silent even when they have needs they are unwilling or unable to express. In away you learn much more about psychology than you ever expected to. One day I find a patient looking like an entirely new man from the day before; he is freshly shaved, there’s color in his face, there’s no grimacing or body-guarding like the day before. He gently apologizes for being
grumpy during the flare-up yesterday of apex pain – 10 on a scale of 10. I smile – since this is my first time in an acute care setting, this is also the first time I have been able to observe how my actions assisted a patient’s progress. The before and after is satisfying. A thrill. Patient needs to have his Hemovac removed, which means I get to take out sutures for the first time. I get up close and personal with the incision and try to see the small black stitch knitted tightly to his skin. I am finally able to get hold of it. I snake the drain out of his back. His back muscles tighten ever so slightly – a little infinitesimal shiver. Later, I help to transfer him from his chair to the bathroom. His wife watches closely. There are many ways to love someone. I notice how she tries to make light of the situation despite his acute pain; she is trying to ease the situation for him. Something I see a lot, something that moves me: the concern of spouses, visitors, loved ones. Everyone wants the patient to get better, but the guests have many varied styles: some are active, bustling around, reading aloud, chatting; some are angry and testy with the nurses and staff; some listen with utter absorption to every word nurses and doctors and surgeons say; others pay no attention at all to medical staff. Another patient starts his day with me feistily. I take his vitals and start assessments. Abruptly he shouts that he is going to throw up, and does. My nursing partner grabs intravenous Zofran. After quickly checking the patient, dose, route, and time (as we learn so meticulously) I begin to administer it. He gets angry and questions my knowledge. Later, though, he says that he does not remember anything from the morning. It’s thrilling and frightening to be the intermediary between all these patients and their doctors. I am excited and nervous and scared and delighted all at once. Each day I learn another tiny thing that isn’t in textbooks. How to place pillows so that a patient’s arms don’t go numb. How to gauge the ergonomics of each individual unique body. How to gauge the needs not only of the patient but the family. How to save time by dealing with those needs before you leave the
room. So much of nursing is only learned by nursing. It’s a whirlwind. Half the week I am in class, and the other half I am at clinical. While the classroom and clinical setting work off each other, they foster completely different learning styles. It is exhausting to switch back and forth between the styles. It’s exciting to be given the opportunity to work in the clinical setting with real patients; I feel so fortunate. But working in such acute settings can be very intimidating. It’s not that I am afraid to talk to patients, or confront other nurses; it’s that no matter how many hours you spend studying, reading, going to clinical, preparing for clinical, there is always something else to learn. Always. Even the littlest things can only be learned by experience – what to do when a patient drops her pill on the floor and it rolls away to never be found, why the IV pump keeps beeping, where to find the other syringes, how to cluster your care to minimize disruption, how to use two hands to complete a task that requires four hands, how to be and stay accepting and open. And there’s a lot to learn about working with people in a vulnerable state. Sometimes patients don’t exactly extend warm welcomes when they want immediate help and hear me introduce myself as the student nurse. But there are other times when patients are excited to hear about my journey so far, and trust me to care for them – a deeply satisfying feeling. What I have found during this rotation is that I can do things right! The small triumphs are delicious. The first time I independently changed and started an IV bag. The first time I correctly and confidently answered questions about medication. The first time I sailed through the electronic healthcare system correctly. The first time I made a bed with a patient still in it — an odd triumph, a small victory. The support from my clinical instructor and faculty instructor mean the world to me. I find myself questioning my knowledge. I know where those needles are located, I know I can trouble-shoot and solve problems, I know I can answer patients’ questions – but I still have a tendency to be shy because I am a student, I don’t have my license, I am not experienced. Their conSummer 2015 19
fidence is so refreshing. And they know when to challenge me, how to encourage my independence. It is thrilling to be trusted by an experience and skilled nurse; it deepens my desire to be a good nurse, a great nurse. Thrill: recognizing and applying what you learned in the classroom to the clinical setting. What you saw in the simulation lab, or the MedSurg textbook, or heard your professor mention, and then you
see it for yourself. And the moments when you sense your own growing judgment. The first time I decided to hold back a medication based on a patient’s low platelet count was a small moment, but one where I trusted myself to speak up and explain my rationale to someone with years of experience. Thrill: support from your peers; sharing stories and knowledge with your peers. Helping each other out. Many times I have had other students seek me out so I could see a new procedure. Collaboration. Caring. Debriefing with classmates. Being honest and forthright about our exhaustion, and swollen ankles from being on the run all day, and missing lunch because you got swamped – but it’s a passionate exhaustion – it’s something we care about, something we are learning to do well, something intimate and crucial... — Clare Scheer
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FOLD FAST THY CHILD What is the function of prayer? by Mel Livatino
he Jesuit Teilhard de Chardin: We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey. Turning the matter around makes an enormous difference. Similarly, turning prayer around can also make an enormous difference. At its deepest, prayer is not asking God to step into our lives; it is trying to step into God’s life. But how difficult, nigh on to impossible, in the face of dire need, horrific pain, or fear of catastrophe, to see things this way — to try to step into the life of God. So in times of dire need I expect I — and likely you too — will continue to pray by begging and thanking. And we will also likely continue to bow our heads and say a prayer for a friend whose daughter is facing serious surgery or a mother with cancer. In the first instance desperation impels us; in the second, a kind heart. But I do hope that in the hours we are not impelled, we consider the attempt to step into God’s life. As I’ve been writing this, images from films have been weaving in and out of consciousness. The first image is from Yasujiro Ozu’s magnificent black-and-white film, Tokyo Story, made in 1953. In that film an elderly couple leave their distant village to visit their children in Tokyo. But the children, it turns out, have busy lives, and after a short time, it becomes apparent that they would prefer the couple not be with them. The father does not fall into rage or depression at not being truly welcomed by his children. Instead, he greets this devastating loss, which many a parent has known, with a smile of acceptance. The actor playing this roll, Chishu Ryu, reported that eleven years earlier Ozu told him, for his role in There Was a Father, to mute his expressions to something approaching the shape of a Noh mask. This placid, accepting look became the look the actor would employ in all the rest of his films for Ozu. Many years ago, when I first saw Tokyo Story, I was struck by the placid, smiling look on the actor’s face. How could he feel that way? It was nothing less than astonishing, and I could not take my eyes off this actor’s face through the entire film. By the end, I understood that look — as I have understood it in all of Ozu’s films since then. It is the look of someone aligning himself with God’s will, someone bowing himself in humility, someone — I’ll say it now — at prayer. The second image coursing
through my mind happens also to be from an Ozu film. Late Spring (1949) concerns itself with a father (played again by Ryu) who must force his daughter out of the family home and into marriage. The daughter deeply loves the father, and he her, but he knows that for her sake she must now leave and marry. He is a widower, and it would be a wonderful gift if the daughter stayed with him, but he will not have it, so he fabricates an upcoming second marriage as a pretext to asking his daughter to leave and marry. There is of course no second marriage, and in the last scene of the film, after the daughter has married and left the house, the camera observes the father slowly peeling an apple. He looks intently at the apple the entire time he is peeling it. It is a very long take, and when his knife finally comes to the last of the skin, it falls from the apple to the floor and the father bows his head. It is as subtle and poetic an image as I have ever seen on a film screen. It is also, I believe, a prayer. The third image playing through my mind is from Fellini’s La Strada (1954). At the beginning of the film Zampanò, a brutish itinerant street performer who breaks chains by expanding his bare chest, buys a young woman, Gelsomina, from her impoverished mother. She works as his assistant drumming up an audience, but he treats her with disdain and neglect. One day Gelsomina meets a circus high-wire walker of gentle soul who tells her that everything in this world has a purpose, even a pebble, even her. Not long after this, Zampanò accidentally kills the high-wire walker in a fistfight. Gelsomina’s spirit is shattered and in the coming days she enters a kind of trance, capable only of mumbling repetitively and staring blankly. Finally Zampanò abandons her at the side of a road while she is taking a nap. At the very end of the film, years after he has abandoned Gelsomina, he is passing through a town when he overhears a woman singing a tune he has heard only Gelsomina sing. The woman is hanging white laundry on a line when he asks her where she heard that tune. She tells him that her father had found Gelsomina on the beach and kindly taken her in, but that she soon wasted away and one day she did not wake up. The white laundry billowing in a light wind suggests the ghostliness of this moment. That night Zampanò drunkenly drifts down to the beach, and in one of the great climaxes in the history of cinema, falls face
down on the sand and begins sobbing in giant heaves of his chest that echo the huge crashing of waves upon the shore. This scene has overwhelmed me every time I have seen it, for in this final moment, the unfeeling, brutish strongman comes to a state we seldom come to in our lives: atonement, or more clearly, at-onement, an alignment with God. In his overwhelming grief he offers up as true and deep a prayer as I have ever witnessed. It may be for this reason that Pope Francis claims La Strada is his favorite film. The last scene that has been floating through my mind is also from a Fellini film, Nights of Cabiria (1957). The heroine, a clownish prostitute named Cabiria, has searched all her life for love and happiness — and been cheated out of it at every turn. Most notably at the very beginning of the film she is cheated when a lover in sunglasses takes all her money and abandons her. Near the end of the film, thinking she has finally met the right man, an accountant named Oscar, she sells her house and all her possessions, puts the money in her purse, and goes off on a long walk with Oscar to a lonely cliff high above the sea. Standing only a few feet from falling over, she realizes Oscar has brought her here to kill her and take the money. Overwhelmed with fear and then grief, she drops the purse at his feet and falls upon the ground sobbing convulsively as he takes the purse filled with her life’s savings and abandons her. In a single instant all her love, hope, dreams, and material possessions are vaporized. It is as devastating a moment as I have ever seen in a film. But in the film’s famous last scene, as Cabiria is walking the long road back to town, she is met by a crowd of young people riding scooters, playing music, and dancing. To a Nino Rota score, they become a Fellini parade celebrating life. The camera watches Cabiria join the outside edge of the parade, still crying, with mascara running down her face. At first she moves with them tentatively. But in the film’s haunting last image, Cabiria looks directly into the camera and we see her crying turn into a smile. It is a smile of acceptance, a smile of at-one-ment — it is the smile of life. In the face of such abysmal devastation, it is also a prayer so deep few of us could ever pray it. My wife Kathy was diagnosed with dementia ten years ago. Each year Summer 2015 21
her mind has slipped further away. Now it is nearly all gone. She can remember nothing even from a few seconds ago, does not recognize anyone, does not even know her own full name, just “Kathy,” and one day she won’t even know that. She cannot get dressed or undressed, eat, use the toilet, or take a bath alone. She must be helped with everything. Has God abandoned her? Not as long as we love her. And that’s where prayer comes in. It will do no good to beg God for the return of her mind. Prayer here means only one thing: loving her, staying with her, taking care of her. Together we pray. But one day I know I will no longer be able to pray that prayer. The father’s smile of understanding at his children’s lack of welcome. The father allowing the peel to fall from the apple. Zampanò sobbing on the beach. Cabiria smiling into the face of destitution. Caring for Kathy. Prayers. Some weeks later a friend lit up when she drifted into talking about Gerard Manley Hopkins’s poem, “The Blessed Virgin Compared to the Air We Breathe.” My friend’s glow was so incandescent that the next day I found the poem and read it. Like all of Hopkins’s poetry, its brambled syntax required untangling, but when I came to the last line the utter freshness of language yoked to profound thought caused an explosion in my head. Hopkins’s last line — Fold home, fold fast thy child — hit me like a linguistic hand grenade. I was so taken by the line that over the next few weeks I went to bed saying it, got up saying it, and several times throughout the day whispered it to myself. Then one day another explosion occurred: I realized Hopkins’s words were a ribbon furling itself about all these other prayers. In each of these prayers, a person’s behavior had surrendered, allowing God to fold home his child, and in that surrender the person’s act had become a prayer. Prayer, I realized, did not take place in prescribed words but in the act of turning one’s being toward God; in its ultimate state, prayer was a turning of one’s being over to God. Hopkins’s line is the shortest and truest prayer I know. Without interrupting the world, without altering how it runs, God can indeed fold home His children. n Mel Livatino is an essayist in Chicago, where he taught for many years at Truman College.
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then through rolling hills to its conclusion in Pisidia, the Biblical Antioch. A world away from WiFi, the Trail took me far from the life I knew back home. Setting up my tent near a shepherd’s stone hut led to a dinner invitation. Drawing water from wells, using old rope and a rusty can, I savored the feeling of cold, clean water rushing over my head and down my neck. No matter where I pitched my tent, I was inevitably serenaded by croaking toads, crabs scuttling under my tent,
shepherds whistling to their herds, or the unnerving grunting and sniffing of wild boars, their silhouettes sometimes outlined by moonlight. Staying in homes along the trail often lead to adventures. Arriving at the shore of Lake Egirdir I had to find Mustafa, a local fisherman who provides accommodation and the only transport across the lake to reach the trail on the other side. Finding Mustafa, with his harpoon gun in hand, led to a lazy afternoon swimming off one side of his skiff while he jumped off the other side into the thick reeds in search of dinner. Each day on the trail presented a different landscape. I basked in the gentle breeze along a high ridge overlooking the blue waters of Lake Egirdir, weaving between massive stone towers along a dirt path lined with patches of wild oregano, or hiking among the spectacular stillness of a thick forest filled with giant junipers and pines. Following an intricate network of village footpaths, migration routes and ancient roads, the Trail is rich in history. I walked on square slabs of limestone from a main Roman trade route. I climbed around the crumbling theater at Selge, shouting lines from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. I passed the crippled arches of a Byzantine church one morning, and explored the ruins of a hilltop fort from the Hellenistic period later the same day. I drank from a hidden spring used by the Romans, and floated down the Koprulu River, where I saw the tomb of an ancient tribal king, cut into stone high in the canyon. On my last day hiking the Trail, I walked along a dirt road lined with apricot trees. A tractor rolled to a stop next to me. To my surprise, the driver was a Turkish English teacher named Engin, spending his summer vacation helping his family pick apricots on their orchard. As I explained how I hiked more than 200 miles to reach his village he struggled to understand why someone would want to walk through Turkey. He then asked if I would join his family for a barbeque that evening. Accepting his invitation I leaned my backpack against the trunk of an apricot tree and offered to help pick fruit. It wasn’t long before half a dozen women on ladders started yelling kova! (bucket!) at me. I had suddenly transitioned from trekker to runner, hurrying to trade an empty bucket for one piled high with delicious apricots... — Brad Myers ’03
PRAIRIE GRASS Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem mea. To God, Who giveth joy to my youth. by Father LeRoy Clementich, C.S.C.
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brought the car to a slow stop when I thought I might be getting near my destination; once the dust on the gravel road had settled, I rolled down the window, looking for a clue. A meadowlark sat on a fence post nearby, seemingly unconcerned and undisturbed by my sudden intrusion. It’s got to be right over in that direction somewhere. Maybe a hundred yards or so, up on that gentle rise of the land. The cemetery where we buried my mother on a cold November day should lie just beyond that old slack wire fence. I hope someone has been keeping the grass down; it’s only proper. I got out and walked slowly through the prairie grass, as though on hallowed ground. Finally, pausing at the crest of the rise, I spotted a trace of rectangular stone foundations. I was home! Yes, by God, this is it, this is is where it all began, the sacred ground where my infant Catholic sacramental life began so long ago: baptism, first communion, confirmation; this is the place where local folks welcomed me home after ordination, pride of my family; how could I ever forget this land, this place of sacred beginnings? And here I stood once again, knee-deep in prairie grass, reminiscences piling up beyond measure. It was here, of course, to this vast Dakota prairie, that they came by the thousands in the last quarter of the nineteenth century: Germans, Czechs, Russians, Poles, Slavs. Here where they broke the rich sod and planted wheat, oats, rye, and barley on land that only the Oglala Sioux, the Lakota, the Cheyenne, the Arapaho, and the Comanche had called their own for millennia. Here where these folks from a foreign land built their churches much in the same design and character as those they left behind in the old countries. And it was to this ancient patch of prairie land that my own German Catholic ancestors also came; they were determined to build a church and name it in honor of Saint Henry, German king and Holy Roman Em-
peror. Winter and summer, without fail, we worshipped in that edifice, the eight of us. Here too is where my spiritual intuition, indeed the ancient Catholic charisma itself, would become imprinted on my soul by the good Benedictine nuns. Here in this lovely faux Gothic edifice I first gazed fearfully at the huge stained glass triangle surrounding the eye of God beaming down on us from its place high up in the apse of the sanctuary. Can that really be what God looks like? I asked my mother. I hope not, she replied. It was here in this very sacristy that I was first introduced to acolyte vestry and sanctuary manners: a black cassock, missing some buttons and upon which some lad before me had obviously dripped candle wax; a white, knee-length surplice stiffly starched and pressed with pleats by my own mother. For God’s sake, do not trip on that cassock, she warned me. You will embarrass your entire family. Stay in line with the other kids, said Father Kopp, the pastor. No gawking around. Oldest kid always carries the missal, the youngest holds the paten at Communion. Know your Latin responses by heart. Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam, to God Who giveth joy to my youth. No mumbling either, otherwise you’re off the team. Time for Mass. Let’s go. A striped prairie gopher popped his head out of a hole, squinted at me briefly and disappeared. I turned and gazed into the lowering sun, slowly making my way back to the car. I sure hope the meadowlark and the gopher will keep guard. This piece of prairie belongs to all three of us, and it always will. n Father LeRoy Clementich C.S.C., the famous flying priest of Alaska, was for many years a columnist for The Catholic Anchor newspaper in Anchorage, where he (deservedly) won awards as the best Catholic columnist in America. Clem has many times written of his spiritual adventures with grace and humor in these pages. Portland 26
THEY WHO TREAD THE PATH of LABOR Visiting the University’s hardest workers in their campus homes.
They who tread the path of labor follow where My feet have trod;
They who work without complaining, do the holy will of God;
Nevermore thou needest seek me; I am with thee everywhere; Raise the stone, and thou shalt find Me, clease the wood and I am there. Where the many toil together, there am I among My own; Where the tired workman sleepeth, there am I with him alone: I, the Peace that passeth knowledge, dwell amid the daily strife; I, the Bread of Heav’n am broken in the sacrament of life. Every task, however simple, sets the soul that does it free; Every deed of love and mercy done to man is done to Me. Nevermore thou needest seek me; I am with thee everywhere; Raise the stone, and thou shalt find Me; cleave the wood, and I am there. — Henry Van Dyke
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JosÊ Reyes, the University’s lead housekeeper; he oversees a force of some 25 colleagues.
The University’s lead painter, Kurt Bottcher, in the legendary welter of his shop.
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ndre Hutchinson, director of the University’s physical plant (which means boss of carpenters, plumbers, electricians, housekeepers, gardeners, welders, and every other sort of hard crucial work you can imagine) got up to speak at the annual dinner for his staffers, and he said this, which we thought was eloquent and blunt and honest and extraordinary: “I am here tonight to tell you how much I care about you. And how much I want all of us to care for each other. We come to work every day to make the University look beautiful, to make it a place where students feel safe and happy and invigorated to learn and explore and grow. We come to work to make this a place where parents also feel safe, knowing that their children, who they have entrusted to us, are in good hands. And make no mistake about it — by virtue of our work, they are in our keeping, just as much as they are with administrators who guide them, or the faculty who teach them. Be assured and take pride in the fact that we are crucial to the mission here, to the work, to the lives of these students, to their futures as responsible and creative citizens. Look, we are a family here. The University is a family, you are my family. Our dreams are the same. I dream that my children are safe, and that yours are, too. I dream that our children will live with joy and honor and courage. I dream that if they are ever lonely or scared, they will find comfort. I dream that they are healthy and happy. Today, tomorrow, the rest of the year, the rest of our time in this glorious place, dream with me, dream for each other. As the great American philosopher Bruce Springsteen says, dream baby dream.” And then Andre, in a lovely touch, played a film of photographs taken all year long of his colleagues with their wives and husbands and children and mothers and fathers, as Springsteen’s haunting song shivers the windows in Bauccio Commons. Everyone wept. Andre wept. Even we wept, and we are grizzled cynical old editors. It was great. — Editors
Groundskeeper Ron Arnott in the legendary welter of his shop.
The gentle brilliant friendly cheerful erudite Michele Zimmerman, czar of campus flora for the last quartercentury; formally her title is Horticulturist, but we could easily say Professor of Vegetative Beings, Chief Attentiveness Officer, Green Life Coach, etc. One measure of her professional expertise: she has, at the request of the University’s biology faculty, led students on campus botanical tours.
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University arborist, tree surgeon, and native plant master Jim Wells
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Supper Under The Stars, July 18
Enjoy the bounty of the Northwest as you take in the view of downtown Portland in the twilight at the Alumni Supper Under the Stars. This multicourse, family-style dinner will highlight the freshest fruits, vegetables, and grilled meats that the summer harvest has to offer, all prepared at table by Bon Appétit chefs. Beverages and dessert are included, as is childcare for kids ages 3 and up. Set for Saturday, July 18, at 7:30 p.m., on the bluff behind Bauccio Commons. Cost is $55 per person or $35 for GOLDs (Graduates of the Last Decade). RSVP to alumni relations at 503-943-7328 or alumni@up.edu.
Battle On The Bluff, October 17
Graduates of the Last Decade (GOLDs), save the date for the second annual Battle on The Bluff. Relive your intramural glory days with sports fun and a BBQ celebration. The Battle on The Bluff is set for Saturday, October 17. Official tournament details will be released in the fall.
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faith and formation, and service and leadership. The first phase of chapters will launch by this fall in Portland, Seattle, the Bay Area, and Chicago. If you are interested in joining one of our phase one chapters, or if you’d like information about forming a chapter or club in your neck of the woods, please contact Ken Hallenius at 503-943-8326 or halleniu@up.edu.
The Office of Alumni Relations is proud to announce the formation of regional and interestbased alumni chapters and clubs. These groups will provide alumni with opportunities to connect at gatherings centered around the University’s tenets of teaching and learning,
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the soccer season and recognized as part of Alumni Night at the Pilots vs. Santa Clara game on Sunday, October 18. To purchase tickets, contact the Pilots box office at 503-943-7525.
2015 Alumni Awards Presented at State of UP
Notre Dame Alumni Trip, September 19
Join alumni from across the country for a trip to the University of Notre Dame. Alumni are encouraged to arrive in Chicago on Friday, September 18 for an overnight stay at the Conrad Chicago. On Saturday, September 19, enjoy a motor coach with continental breakfast en route from Chicago to South Bend. Your day-long visit to the University of Notre Dame will include a campus tour, tailgating, tickets to the Notre Dame vs. Georgia Tech football game, and Mass in a residence hall. A boxed dinner will be provided on the ride back to Chicago. Limited to four tickets per alumnus. Contact alumni relations at 503943-7328 or alumni@up.edu for pricing information and to reserve your spot.
10-Year Anniversary of the 2005 Women’s Soccer Championship Introducing Alumni Chapters and Clubs
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This fall marks the 10-year anniversary of the 2005 Women’s Soccer NCAA National Championship. Several Pilots from the 2005 team have gone on to international and professional soccer careers, including Christine Sinclair ’06, Angie Woznuk Kerr ’07, Stephanie Lopez Cox ’07, and Megan Rapinoe ’08. The 2005 team will be honored throughout
At the annual State of UP luncheon on March 17, 2015, the University of Portland community honored the following alumni for their commitment to the University’s mission: Scott Reis ’98 won the Distinguished Alumni Award. Scott is recognized for his work with at-risk youth and his vocation to Catholic education as a teacher at De La Salle North Catholic and now at Jesuit High School. After earning his degree in mathematics at UP, Scott went on to the Alliance for Catholic Education (ACE) program at Notre Dame and then taught high school in Charlotte, North Carolina before returning to Portland. As an educator, Scott has used his considerable creative gifts to change the way mathematics is taught and learned, and has had a remarkable and elevating effect on the minds and souls of hundreds of young men and women. Stan Muessle ’62 was presented with the Rev. Thomas C. Oddo, C.S.C., Outstanding Service Award. Stan, a former ASUP senator and member of the UP men’s golf team, retired after a successful career in software development and marketing at IBM. He has since parlayed his professional experience into a means to help improve the education of students in the developing world, especially in Tanzania. He founded an educational nonprofit, Global Outreach, in 1998, and works to arrange partnerships between diverse institutions like One Laptop Per Child and the Catholic Diocese of Iringa to change the lives of Tanzanian children every day.
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Christina Palmer Fuller ’07, ’12 is the winner of this year’s Contemporary Alumni Award. Through her events management company, Christina helps transform Portland’s waterfront into a welcoming space for iconic events like the Waterfront Blues Festival, Cinco de Mayo, and the Rock ’n’ Roll Half Marathon. She provides support to a variety of local non-profits and employs UP students and alumni, serving as a teacher and role model while personifying the university’s tenets of teaching and learning, faith and formation, and service and leadership. Nicholas MacKinnon ’15 won the Thomas A. Gerhardt Award for Student Leadership. A recent graduate of the University’s mechanical engineering program, Nicholas immersed himself in an array of opportunities during his time on The Bluff. He served as an Air Force cadet, volunteered in the Green Dot violence prevention program, worked as an Encounter with Christ coordinator and Eucharistic minister, was a team leader in Campus Ministry’s Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) programs, and volunteered at local homeless shelters and in Haiti. Energetic, bright, and generous, Nick fully understands and embraces Tom Gerhardt’s conviction that selfless leadership is the best leadership. Find out more about Alumni Award winners and how to nominate future honorees at www.up.edu/alumni.
University Launches UP Switchboard
Be sure to sign up for UP Switchboard, the University’s new social media networking platform. UP Switchboard is an online community for UP alumni, students, staff, and faculty who want to not only stay connected to their alma mater, but with their classmates, colleagues, and fellow alumni as well. Go to up.edu/ switchboard to create an account and start connecting.
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Surprise visitor to campus this past April: the girl in this photograph. Jennifer Shipstad, here with her grandfather Eddie Shipstad ’63 hon., for whom the vibrant funny lively Ship is named, was here in April of 1969, when Shipstad Hall was dedicated; this year she visited the University’s archives and museum (in Shipstad’s basement), chatted with staff and students, and drove off smiling with a Ship shirt. Her grandfather Eddie, a legendary skater as a boy in Minnesota, started Shipstad and Johnson Ice Follies, the first traveling ice show in America; its success led to the film The Ice Follies of 1939, with Jimmy Stewart. Eddie and his partners sold the enterprise for a hefty profit in 1954. So it is that Shipstad Hall was paid for in large part by people laughing and being amazed by grace and skill and humor; somehow this seems apt and perfect to us. Summer 2015 37
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David E. Sullivan ’36 passed away on September 29, 2013, in Spokane, Wash., at the age of 99. He served in the U.S. Navy from 1941 to 1946 as a flight surgeon. He did most of his civilian work at St. Luke’s Memorial Hospital, and had his own office/clinic for 30 years, until he closed it in 1979. Dr. Sullivan continued performing surgeries on patients at the Portland Veteran’s Administration Hospital and Shriners Children’s Hospital until he was in his seventies, and was also a pioneer in modern surgical techniques for repairing cleft palates in children. Survivors include his wife Elvena; children, Thomas, Daniel, Michael, Timothy, Kathleen Teegarden, David, and Mary; sisters, Mary Schiffbauer and Helen Reed; ten grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Fifty Year Club
Frank McKenna Bosch ’39 died on March 19, 2015. His wife of 67 years, Mary McClintock Bosch, and son, Peter, survive him, along with grandchildren Lillian, Miles, Max, and Justin; and great-grandchild, Oscar. After serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II, he practiced law in Portland for 50 years. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Farrell Dean Curtis ’47 passed away on April 25, 2015. He joined the U.S. Naval Reserve after graduation from college and completed his dental degree at Northwestern University in Chicago. After the Navy, he set up his dental practice in North Portland, where he served for over 50 years, retiring at the age of 74. He also volunteered as a leader for the Kiwanis Boys Club at Roosevelt High School for many years, and dedicated hundreds of hours doing free work at a dental clinic in Portland. He was married to Wilma, the love of his life, for 55 years, until her passing in 2007. Survivors include their children, Deana Campbell, Nancy Haning, and Dan Curtis; grandchildren, Tricia, Lindsay, Matthew, Sarah,
and Parker; and great-grandchildren, Anthony, Olivia, Jackson, Evelyn, Nicolas, and Naomi; and canine best friend, Bentley. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Hubert Louis Thomas ’47 CP ’54 passed away on February 2, 2015, at his home in San Jose, Calif. He is survived by five children and his wife, Margaret, who notes, “He was very loyal to Portland U. and sponsored a scholarship. Will you please mention him in your next publication?” Thank you Margaret, yes we will, and our prayers and condolences to you and yours. Pauline Ann (Krueger) Rennie ’47 passed away on March 22, 2015, in Portland, Ore. Polly was a pillar of her community, especially through her work with St. Vincent de Paul and her business, Polly’s Boutique, which catered to all those in need. Her infectious smile and laughter will be remembered by her eight loving children, Anthony, Sharon, Steven, Carol, Thomas, Susan, Peter, and Paul; 25 grandchildren; and 14 great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Constance “Connie” Flabetich ’50 of Portland, Ore., died on
N O T E S Thursday, July 31, 2014, following a prolonged illness. She taught for the Portland Public School District for more than 35 years, and married Edward Flabetich in 1953. Edward passed away on March 24, 2015; survivors include their daughter, Carol Dickey; son, John Flabetich; ten grandchildren, and 3 great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. We have sad yet inspiring news from Gregg Ford ’81, who writes: “My father, Jack Ford ’50, died at the age of 86 on Sunday, February 22, after a 5-year battle with cancer— an event that brought the family together to mourn and celebrate his life. My father was a three-sport letterman at UP in the late 1940s. He played football, basketball, and track. Most notably (as written in spring 1998 edition of Portland Magazine), quarterback Fred Owen threw a 99-yard touchdown pass to Jack Ford against St. Mary’s, a record still featured in the Guinness Book. Since it was the first, it will always put UP in the record books. One of my brothers and I were fortunate to play against UP in basketball with St. Martins in the 1970s. The game of course was in Howard Hall, which was where Dad played and also had a room. It was special to us that we got to play where he did. I just thought I would tell you about a great moment in Portland history. Not many three-sport athletes in colleges these days.” Thanks Gregg, our prayers and condolences for your loss, and we certainly are grateful to you for sharing memories of your Dad. Lawrence Reverman ’51 died on April 23, 2015. He served aboard the U.S.S. Saratoga during World War II before earning his degree on The Bluff. He spent 30 years with the Portland Fire Department in 1952, retiring on April 1, 1982. He married Silvia in 1952 and they celebrated 62 years of marriage while raising their children, Chris, Lynn and Michael. The light of his life were his children; grandchildren, Mark, Casey, David and Maddie; and
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great-grandchild, Cameron. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Richard Roberg ’51 passed away on August 11, 2014. He served in the U.S. Navy and was stationed on Treasure Island. Dick subsequently met the love of his life, Thelma June Miller, and they were married for 54 years, until her death in 2005. He worked at Blitz Weinhard brewery in the 1950s and later went on to have a longstanding and successful career in the tire industry. Survivors include his wife, Sigrid; children, Molly, Chris, Peggy, Mike, Thom, Peter, Paul, Meagan, and stepdaughter Tamara Norton; 12 grandchildren; and five great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Almer L. Kitchin ’52 passed away on January 12, 2015. He was a 1945 Golden Glove champion, gifted singer, and proud U.S. Navy veteran, seeing action in Ulithi, Guam, and Kwajalein. He sold steel for Portland Wire & Iron and U.S. & Farwest Steel. In midlife, Lou earned a theology degree and become an ordained minister. Survivors include his wife of 63 years, Bev; sister, Margaret Webb; sons, Ron and Greg Kitchin; daughter, Liz Dugger; seven grandkids; six great-grand-kids; and many nieces and nephews. Our prayers and condolences to the family. John Braden Waite ’52 passed away on January 7, 2015, at Willamette View Manor in Portland. His wife of 60 years, Janet, preceded him in death just five weeks earlier. John and Janet met in 1953 in John Day, Ore., where they taught at Grant Union High School. They married in Portland on June 25, 1954. Following his high school teaching career, John was a college professor for 30 years. Survivors include their children, David, Richard, Nanci, and Karen, plus six grandchildren and three great-grandchildren—most likely four by the time of publication. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Wayne Oberding ’52 passed away on March 1, 2015, in Portland, Ore. He was a civil
C L A S S engineer for the City of Portland and the State Highway Department, and served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. He is survived by his wife, Lucille; son, Brian; daughters, Toni and Lisa; granddaughter, Kristin; and grandson, Kevin. Our prayers and condolences to the family. We share here a note from Dennis McLaughlin 52, who writes: “I am proud of my association with a great school which grew from Columbia Preparatory School (1952) to my later graduation from Notre Dame (1957). I am blessed with the Holy Cross fathers. Keep up the astounding quality of education!” Thank you Dennis, we’ll do our best. James Patrick McDowd ’53 passed away on August 14, 2014, in San Rafael, Calif. Knows as “Pat” to one and all, he served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War. He married the love of his life, ZoAnn, and together they raised three children. His family and faith were his life’s passions. He worked in the media industry for 50 years, including a 30-year stint as a sales executive at San Francisco’s KGO Radio. A hard-working man with a quick wit, he loved his work, and the colleagues and clients he met along his journey. Survivors include his siblings Bill McDowd, Lina McDowd, and Peggy Whitlock; his children Mike McDowd, Kim McDowd, and Patty Foehr; and three grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. William “Bill” Kneeland ’54 passed away on June 20, 2014, at home in San Diego, Calif. Bill served as a hospital corpsman in the Navy from 1955 to 1960. He is survived by his wife of 43 years, Marilyn; and numerous nieces and nephews. Our prayers and condolences to the family. We heard recently from Don Haynes ’55, who writes: “Just got the most recent issue of the magazine. It was everything I’ve come to expect: beautifully presented, well-written, intellectually stimulating, fun to read. Having said that, I have the same problem I usually have. When I read the “50 year club” under Class Notes, I come away sad at the number of people who have died. Occasionally an old friend. Former girlfriend. Classmate. I’m well and going strong. So rather than look back at how I
got here, I thought I’d pass along some information about where I am now. I hope you find some of it worth printing in the next Class Notes: My wife and I live on Whidbey Island, Washington. I’m involved in the literary community here. I’m vice chairman of the board of the Northwest Institute of Literary Arts. Among other things, NILA oversees the Whidbey Island Writers Workshop MFA in Creative Writing, which is the only fully accredited MFA program in the nation not affiliated with a college or university. Last year I self-published The Future Upon Him, volume one of the seven-volume Swordthane Saga. While this initial offering on Amazon has gone well, I’ve entered into an arrangement with a publisher for the entire fantasy saga. Both The Future Upon Him (new edition) and South to Adventure should be out in several months. Volume three, DragonQuest, should appear as soon after as possible. The other four volumes will then (hopefully) see daylight at regular intervals thereafter. Since I was a student at the University of Portland from 1953 to 1955 and then returned to teach in the English department between 1962 and 1965, the fact that I’m alive and kicking may be of interest to some.” Thanks Don, you bet it is, we still remember the terrific piece you wrote for us a few years ago. Richard Gerhards ’56 passed away on March 24, 2015, in Portland. He was 80. He used his UP engineering degree to work for the Federal Highway Department. He was a devout Catholic and shared his views on his faith largely through writing, as well as through generosity to the Church. A native of Kansas, he is survived by his sisters, Susanna and Mary; brothers, Peter, Charles and Joseph; and many nieces and nephews. Our prayers and condolences. We heard recently from Vincent R. Teresi ’56, who writes: “I recently received the spring issue of Portland magazine and appreciated your Class Notes mention of the late Abbot Joseph Wood, OSB (’49) and Sr. Joeine Darrington, OSB (’68) – both of the Benedictine Community here in Mount
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It’s not too late to make a beeline and join the hundreds of alumni who will return to campus to participate in the annual Alumni Reunion, held this year on June 26-28. Reunion is the largest alumni event of the year, annually drawing more than a thousand alumni, faculty, staff, and friends to campus for a weekend of reconnection and reminiscing. This year we celebrate the 50th anniversary of Mehling Hall, the 80th birthday of the School of Nursing, the Entrepreneur Scholars program, the Cross Country program, the milestone classes of 1965 and 1990, and all classes ending in 0 and 5. Friday’s National Alumni Board Golf Tournament kicks off the weekend, along with a bus tour, the Purple Flamingo welcoming reception, and the Mehling Alumnae Rooftop Soiree. Saturday features the Old Stomping Grounds 5K run, the return of Alumni College session classes (hosted by Fr. Charlie Gordon, Stephanie Salomone, Gary Malecha, and Brad Franco), the 50 Year Club Mass and Lunch, a men’s basketball alumni game, River Campus and Beauchamp Center tours, receptions for the classes observing quinquennial anniversaries, and the signature event of the weekend, the Welcome Home BBQ and Dance. The weekend concludes on Sunday with the All-Alumni Mass and Brunch. For more information contact the alumni office at 503-943-7328 or alumni@up.edu. Angel. Father Abbot was a friend of my late brother Joseph and I. Sr. Joeine and also a mutual dear friend, Sister Mary Blanche Smith (age 96), were both honored at an historic, dual funeral service in at the Benedictine Monastery in February. I pursued graduate theological study here at Mt. Angel Seminary as a diocesan seminarian for my native Archdiocese of Portland, plus some additional study at St.
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Thomas the Apostle Seminary in Kenmore, Wash. Thereafter, I was a lay-teacher at the new Archbishop Mitty High School in San Jose, Calif., with the Marianists. I served on the staff of Jesuit High School in Portland for several years, working in the areas of teacher/counselor/sports info officer/student clubs moderator. I was also selected by then-Principal Richard Seaver, S.J., to serve as the
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Walt Spriggs ’58 was treated to a fishing trip by fellow alumni Will Kessi ’89 and Gwynn Klobes ’08, ’14 and her husband Jeff for his 80th birthday. Walt was the only person in the boat to catch a salmon. Here he proudly displays his catch, a chrome-bright springer, and it seems appropriate that Walt is wearing his lucky UP hat on for his picture. faculty ‘spearheader’ for the first annual JHS Auction-Dinner Fundraiser in 1968. It now generates nearly one million dollars annually. My later administrative work embraced 15 years with Beaverton School District Office of Instruction. However, I chose to resign my position to provide longtime home care for my late, beloved disabled mother. “My ‘retirement years’ still find me very active with Mt. Angel School District at age 80. I handle the publicity and sports info for both the school district office and Kennedy High School, and am perhaps the oldest member of a high school staff in Oregon! I’m including a photo taken of Kennedy High School student body president Hannah Kloft (member of All-State basketball team) and I recently. “As a loyal UP alum, I have channeled several of our Leadership students to the UP campus during the past decade. One of these stellar students is Kurt Berning, former Kennedy High student body president and recent Fulbright Scholar, who is presently serving as hall director at Villa Maria Hall.” Thanks for the note, Vince, it sounds like you’re still in the thick of it there in beautiful Mount Angel, Ore. We heard from Arlene Gowinski Goetze ‘56 on the occasion
of the 80th birthday of the Beacon. She writes: “Your Beacon staff of the last few years have interesting and impressive jobs. What happened to us in the early 1950s? As the first woman editor of the Beacon, I used to spend days at the printer to proofread our text in old fashioned metal type. As an English major I graduated in only three years and spent each year working on the paper. My fondest memory is of being hung in effigy by the ROTC when we printed a cartoon about their party at the Air Base. The heavens poured forth but I learned the ‘value of the word.’ My first freelance writing included articles in the Washington Post, Army Times, and the San Jose Mercury News. We raised seven children while I ran my own communication services—founding and editing the Catholic Women’s Network, an educational nonprofit with a newspaper on women’s spirituality and health. I started the communications office for the first Bishop of San Jose in 1981-85, and wrote diocesan directories and many historical books for San Jose parishes. I also edited two collections of women’s writings, titled Women on the Way and Wisdom Along the Way. For the past four years I have been writing talks and press releases to educate Silicon Valley about fluoride, which will be added to the water in the next 4 years. Now I know my dad was involved in using fluoride in making
N O T E S the A-bomb in the 1940s in Niagara Falls. His body was full of fluoride and he lost all his teeth, as many workers did, and was not allowed to sue for damages. Amazing how things in life come back to us, to fight the same battle as half a century before.” John Radich, husband of Mary Katherine (Arndorfer) Radich ’58, passed away on February 5, 2015, at home with his family. He spent 23 years in the Marine Corps, serving a tour in Vietnam and two in Okinawa. Survivors include his wife of 56 years, Mary Katherine; daughters, Darcy Strahan, Kirsten Byers, Gillian Turner, and Alison Dow; son Gregory Radich; brother David Radich; sisters, Joanne Durkin, Mary Jane Radich, Rosalie Yoshida, Helen Sasser, Rita Kay Lundbohm, and Cathy Worrell; and three granddaughters, Emma Byers, Gabby Byers and Lillian Dow. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Robert Joseph Lee ’58 passed away on March 1, 2015. Survivors include his wife, Arlene; children, John Lee and Carolyn Kenney; sister, Pat Taylor; and grandchildren, Sarah and Erin Kenney and Christopher and Katherine Lee. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Dean F. James ’58 passed away on January 13, 2015. in Rock Hill, N.C. Our prayers and condolences. We received a letter from Jane Dean ’58, who writes: “Without the University of Portland’s welcome and their wrapping their arms around me I would not have been able to spend 28 and a half years as a high school teacher and then go on to the College of Idaho to get a master’s degree in counseling. That began 10 more years of work with ninth and tenth graders. “My dad always insisted I go to Marylhurst instead, as my mother died during my tenth grade year and he thought my little sister needed to be near me. But on a trip to Idaho our car was struck by a drunk driver, and Dad and my sister were killed; I had a broken femur. That left my little brother in ninth grade, and me in the hospital. Luckily, the U.S. Army sent my big brother home from duty in the Korean War.
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“Upon healing I entered U. of Portland. I didn’t have nearly enough money, but the University helped four of us out-of-staters live upstairs at Dixons residence on Yale Street. We lived in Villa Maria our last year there. I worked for David Underhill in his office and two different jobs in the UP cafeteria. I didn’t realize it then, but I think UP must have reduced my tuition without a word to me. “I had the best experiences with wonderful faculty such as Father Wheeler, Miss Mary Margaret Dundore, Dave Underhill, Sr., Dr. Zancanella, Father Molter (who had me bring rare plants from Central Oregon) and many others. I consider a number of quality human beings and friends to be a gift from UP as well, including Sally Beumeler and her husband, Mary Lou Daltoso and hubby Dante, Dick and Ilo Berger, and many more. It was a great university and I thank the Lord I was able to attend and for how much help I had.” Thank you for sharing your story, Jane, we’re sure you have been generous with your gifts in return. Barbara Sharkey ’59 writes: “I have many fond memories of classes, teachers, and events from 1955 to 1959, and life-long friendships to cherish. My social sciences focus aided me in social services employment in Oregon and in California from 1959 to July, 1991. Many thanks!” Many thanks to you too, Barbara, for writing and especially for the generous gift which accompanied your note. Charles A. Schaeffer ’62 passed away on April 23, 2015, after a long struggle with dementia. He is survived by his wife of 52 years, Maureen; four children; eight grandchildren; and four siblings. He worked for 17 years in the cost accounting department at Del Monte in San Francisco before moving back to Oregon in the late 1970s. He was controller for two agriculture companies until his retirement in 2005. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Keith L. Larsen ’62 died on January 30, 2015, at the age of 80. He joined the Navy straight out of high school and served his country until 1956. He worked as a resident engineer for Rayonier Paper Company in Hoquiam, Wash., from 1962 to 1974. From that
C L A S S year until his 1998 retirement Keith was a plant engineer for Simpson Paper in Redding, Calif. Survivors include his wife of 59 years, Patricia; daughter, Tammy Larsen, and son, Todd Larsen; and grandchildren, Grace and Jack Larsen. Our prayers and condolences to the family. James Stark ’64 writes: “I am a 1964 graduate of UP, a retired professor from Seattle University, who has taken up fiction writing in his dotage. I have recently published two short story collections which deal with coming of age in the 1940s, 50s and 60s. The backdrop for most of the stories is the Pacific Northwest. My first collection is titled Woodfiber Dreams, and the second is Love in the Time of Cholesterol. I’ve been able to do a few readings, including one at the University Bookstore and Third Place Books in Seattle.” Thanks for writing, James, and we would be remiss in neglecting to tell your fellow alumni about your website, www.starkstories.com.
’73 He Was My Brother
LaFrenz ’98, Ryan LaFrenz ’99, Andrew LaFrenz ’02, and Megan LaFrenz ’06. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Prayers, please, for Daniel McElhaney on the death of his father, Gerald McElhaney, on January 10, 2015, in Eugene, Ore. Survivors include Daniel and his mother, Leah McElhaney, who was Mack’s beloved and cherished wife for 64 years; their daughters, Nancy and Tricia; grandchildren, John, Nicholas, Nathan, Hannah, Leah, and Lucas; and greatgrandchildren, Faith, Kylee, Jayde, and Therran. “Mack” spent his entire career working for the City of Portland. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
’75 Legacy In The Making
Great news from Richard Vogt and his wife Debra: “Our daughter, Langley Vogt, has now committed to UP for next fall, and will be an engineering major. We are very excited and happy about her choice.” As are we, Richard and Debra, as are we.
We heard recently from Queenie Samuel, who writes: “Hi all, I’m sad to announce the passing of my brother, Jacob “Lee” Jackson, on February 9, 2015. He was residing at Cornerstone Care Options here in Portland, where he received wonderful care. He had troubles with dementia, plus kidney and liver problems, but he continued to be the vibrant personality
’76 Prayers For Wray
he was, recognizing all those he loved until the end. On my last visit, I said, ‘Give me a kiss,’ and he puckered right up and planted one on me. He was my big brother and I love, love, loved him. Thank you all for the love you have given me throughout the years and I know your prayers are with me and my family as we make this journey. Much love, my friends.”
’78 Khalid’s Update
’74 Prayers, Please
Robert LaFrenz, husband of Margaret LaFrenz, passed away on February 2, 2015. He was also the father of Christopher
Wray Jacobs died on December 23, 2014 in Gresham, Ore. He served in the U.S. Army. Following his time in the service, he was a deputy sheriff for Multnomah County. Survivors include his wife, Virginia; children, Douglas, David, and Cheryl; grandchildren, Brandie and Douglas; and several great-grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Khalid Asad Jamjoom is now serving as CEO of the Saudi Economic and Development Company (SEDCO Development), and is celebrating his twenty-second year there. He got his bachelor’s degree in civil engineering, and wishes that others would have the same opportunity he had to graduate from “the greatest university in the world.” Thank you so much,
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Former archivist assistant and longtime University employee Martha Wachsmuth passed away on the morning of May 4, 2015, at 94 years of age. Those who remember the late Fr. Barry Hagan, C.S.C. from his years on the history faculty will no doubt remember the gracious, dedicated woman who served as his eyes when Fr. Hagan’s vision deteriorated; Martha was hired as his assistant/secretary/guardian angel and stayed with him when he became University archivist. Martha retired in September 2012 at the age of 91, after a 41-year career on The Bluff. A post about Martha’s work at the University and a slide show of photos can be found at this link: http://tinyurl.com/oqkpx5a. A most kind, gentle, devoted woman, our Martha, and we will miss her terribly. Khalid, and congratulations on your new position. The people who run SEDCO obviously knows a good leader when they see one. And speaking of blindingly self-evident good leaders: Sr. Charlene Herinckx was elected to a second term as Superior General of the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon during their 2015 chapter meeting. She and Sr. Juliana Monti, Sr. Josephine Pelster, and Sr. Rita Watkins will serve on the SSMO leadership team until 2020. The sisters hold a general chapter every five years for the purpose of spiritual introspection, charting their course for the next five years, and election of new leadership. The affable, eminently gifted Sr. Charlene began her tenure as superior general in 2010.
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’80 A Man of Music Leadership
and
Mark Gaulke died on March 10, 2015. He was hired by the David Douglas School District in 1980 as a band teacher and was promoted to supervisor of music. In 1992, he was selected as conductor of the Oregon All-State Jazz Band. After 15 years of teaching music, he was promoted to assistant principal at Floyd Light Middle School and promoted again to principal in 2003. He retired in 2013 after a 32-year career. Mark was an accomplished trumpet player, playing with artists such as Joan Rivers, Rich Little, Natalie Cole, and many more. He later became co-leader of the Woody Hite Big Band. Survivors include his daughters, Katherine, Michelle, and Rebecca; and brother, Tad. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
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N O T E S the Salzburg Summer program, Tau Beta Pi fraternity, all internal sports, club soccer, and was an RA in Corrado Hall for two years. Patrick has a job waiting for him with SKANSKA, where he has interned for the past year. He’s a third generation UP graduate, beginning with my dad, Jerry Corrigan ’55.”
’82 A Dog’s Best Friend On April 25 a group of UP alumni and friends participated in Portland’s annual Rebuilding Together day. Formerly known as Christmas in April, Rebuilding Together began in 1973 when volunteers in Midland, Texas decided to devote one day in April to repairing and sprucing up the dilapidated homes of low-income, disabled, and elderly neighbors in their community. One homeowner exclaimed “Why, this is like Christmas in April!” and they never looked back. Rebuilding Together came to Portland in 1990 and is celebrating its 25th anniversary with over 40 houses to be improved by more than 1,800 volunteers. “This is a great way to give back to our community and restore a sense of pride for homeowners,” says Matt Waite ’84, who served as House Captain for the University of Portland alumni team. Dorothy (Johnson) O’Very wants to spread the word about her good friend: “I wanted to let you know about Julie (Jenks) Kirkpatrick, who returned this past March from a medical missionary trip to Panama. Julie and I attended UP together, both graduating in 1980. We both worked for the Indian Health Service following graduation, and then both completed careers as U.S. Navy nurses. That was many years ago. I’m still with the Department of Defense, training electronic health records procedures at military treatment facilities across the globe. The story about Julie that I think would capture the hearts of your students, and, perhaps, generate some volunteers for her medical mission initiatives, is her tremendous success working with E3 Partners (http://tinyurl.com/mu9g58k).”
’81 Remembering Jack Ford We have sad yet inspiring news from Gregg Ford, who writes: “My father, Jack Ford ’50, died at the age of 86 on Sunday, February 22, after a 5-year battle with cancer—an event that brought the family together to mourn and cele-
brate his life. My father was a three-sport letterman at UP in the late 1940s. He played football, basketball, and track. Most notably (as written in spring 1998 edition of Portland Magazine), quarterback Fred Owen threw a 99-yard touchdown pass to Jack Ford against St. Mary’s, a record still featured in the Guinness Book. Since it was the first, it will always put UP in the record books. One of my brothers and I were fortunate to play against UP in basketball with St. Martins in the 1970s. The game of course was in Howard Hall, which was where Dad played and also had a room. It was special to us that we got to play where he did. I just thought I would tell you about a great moment in Portland history. Not many three-sport athletes in colleges these days.” Thanks Gregg, our prayers and condolences for your loss, and we’re grateful you would share memories of your Dad with us. Julie (Corrigan) Kempster writes: “Our son Patrick Kempster graduated in May 2015 as a civil engineer. He loved his four years on the bluff, where he participated in
Mark Hansen writes: “I was mentioned in an article in the April 5, 2015 edition of the Daily Courier newspaper in Grants Pass, Oregon. In short, our AniMeals program is a Meals-on-Wheels-type service for canine and feline companions of Josephine County’s senior community. It is supplied from the food bank that the Rogue Valley Humane Society has run for several years, and that I have been shepherding for the past couple of years. We have high hopes for its development into the future. I feel that my participation in this program was influenced by the spirit of service that the University of Portland fosters in its students and alumni.” Thanks for writing, Mark, and for thinking of the well-being of your local four-legged companions.
’85 Prayers, Please
George Edens, husband of Kathryn Edens, and father of Sarah Fisher ’78, passed away on January 25, 2015, in his home, surrounded by family. He was 92. Survivors include Kathryn, his wife of 68 years; children, Kathleen Alberque, Fr. William Edens, Jonathan Edens, Sarah Fisher, Martha Schmidt, Anne Bell, Gregory Edens, Monica Eischen and Thaddeus Edens; 21 grandchildren; five great-grandchildren; and extended family and friends. His son, Christopher Edens, predeceased him. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
’92 Joining The Sisterhood
Sr. Juanita (Helen) Thurlow, OSB made her first profession as a Benedictine Sister of Queen of Angels Monastery (Mt. Angel, Ore.) on Tuesday, February 10, 2015, in front of community members, family, and friends. Taking the name of Juanita in honor of her grandmother and St. Juanita, she professed temporary vows of stability, obedience, and fidelity to the monastic way of life through her spoken
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and written words. Sr. Juanita worked in the medical field for 13 years and was an assistant varsity swim coach at Central Catholic High School for two years. It was at Central that she met the legendary Sr. Jerome Zerr, OSB, a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel and mentor to countless students and religious. She participated in the Monastic Week Experience at Queen of Angels Monastery in July 2012, and entered the Benedictine community as a postulant just one month later. Congratulations Sr. Juanita, and many happy and rewarding years at that most holy place.
’96 Terra’s Now A Nurse
Terra Schultz writes: “In 2012 I decided to leave my career as a fish biologist and pursue a career in nursing. I completed an accelerated bachelor of science in nursing program at OHSU in September 2013. I currently work for Nursingale, a non-profit home health agency, taking care of medically fragile young adults. I work at night, in the client’s home. So far it has been a very rewarding experience!” Steve Ascher was hired as head women’s tennis coach by the University of Montana in the summer of 2008, and was tasked with rebuilding a program that had performed below expectations for many years. Over the past seven years, he has built Montana into a nationally ranked dynasty. Read more about Steve’s incredible success at this link: http:// tinyurl.com/pko6flv. Rachel and Jeff Lindberg recently welcomed their eighth child, Max, to the family fold, and quite a handsome lad is he, wouldn’t you agree? So do we.
’97 Prayers, Please
Please remember Jon Gerber and his family in your prayers on the death of his father, Robert Gerber, on March 22, 2015, in Vancouver, Wash. He served during World War II as a B-17 bomber pilot, then taught sophomore English, speech, and debate at Portland’s Grant High School, and was the first activity director at Portland’s Adams High School. Survivors also include his sister, MaryJane Evans;
C L A S S son, Chris Gerber; daughters, Anne Emmons and Leslie Brunton; and three grandchildren. Our prayers and condolences to the family. Born in April to Isaac Vanderburg and Kelly DuFort ’00: their second child, Thomas, pictured here with his exuberant and ebullient Big Sister Margo. Congratulations to the family and a big (and warm) welcome to the new Alaskan.
Mom, Dad, and Cecelia are doing well, according to Fr. Art Wheeler, C.S.C., who knows these things. Speaking of baby makes three: we also heard from Elizabeth (Fugere) McBreen, who writes: “My husband Ricky and I celebrated the arrival of our first child on November 12, 2014. Rose Alexandra McBreen is healthy and beautiful and getting smarter every day!” Congratulations, Elizabeth, and thanks for sharing. She is all that.
’01 She’s The Boss
’04 A Day In The Life
’98 Two And Counting!
Meet Reilly Muriel Partnow, the relatively new daughter of Maia Nolan-Partnow and her estimable husband Seth. “She’s got the vocabulary of a tiny, crackercrushing dictionary, and she recently figured out how the baby gate works. She’s terrifying and hilarious and refuses to get out of bed until she’s been given two or three beaded necklaces to wear,” says her mom. Congrats, new parents.
’02 Pilots In Waiting
Jeni Schiewe Fitzpatrick was featured in an article in the Portland Tribune about a typical day in her life as a labor and delivery nurse at Meridian Park Hospital. “I have UP to thank for a great education,” she says. See the article at http://tinyurl.com/omykw29. Melissa Giglio Bowers writes: “Just wanted to drop this note to update the group! I recently took a position as the lead plumbing engineer for Wright Engineers, originally based in Las Vegas, Nev., with a local office in Chandler, Ariz. In December of 2014, I found out that I passed the PE Exam in mechanical engineering, a fabulous early Christmas present and a great way to finish the year! I just got the results from my Certified in Plumbing Design examination and passed that as well. So I am now Melissa Giglio Bowers, PE. I am still active within the American Society of Plumbing Engineers within the local Phoenix, Ariz. chapter as well as the national Society. I just got appointed to the research foundation for the entire society, striving to research and promote changes to the plumbing infrastructure here in the United States. Lots of opportunities are going on, and life is busy and great.”
Paula (Caballero) Leifer writes: “This last President’s Day weekend, I got together with ten other UP alumni and their significant others for our 7th annual weekend retreat. Every President’s Day weekend since 2008 we have gotten together and rented a cabin or a house and enjoyed each others’ company, either in the snow or at the beach. This year, however, we all had tiny little additions! We had five babies with us this time—all future Pilots!” Jason Webb, medical instructor in the Department of Medicine at Duke University, was named an inspirational leader in hospice and palliative medicine under the age of 40 by the ’05 Welcome, Caleb! American Academy of Hospice Rhonda Moon writes: “I graduand Palliative Medicine (AAH- ated from UP’s School of NurPM). Webb is recognized by sing in May his peers for innovation in and 2005 as Rhonda dedication to the medical speSchurter. I marcialty of Hospice and Palliative ried Eric Moon Medicine and AAHPM. Find in August 2011 out more about Dr. Webb and and we had a his award at www.aahpm.org. baby boy (our first child!) in ’03 And Baby Makes Three September 2014. His name Wonderful news to share about is Caleb James Moon, born Tom Spooner and Nicole Ricci September 17, 2014. He was ’04: their daughter, Cecelia 21 inches long and weighed Rose, was born on December 7 lbs. 15 oz. at birth. As his 29, 2014, in Portland, Ore. dad is 6’ 4” and Caleb is in the
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Here’s a photo of a recent Beacon alumni (from 20042008) reunion in Seattle, Wash. From left to right: Jake Wiederrich ’06 (KIRO-7 Seattle), Caitlin Moran ’08 (Seattle Times), Ame Phitwong ’08, Jessie Culbert ’08, Thomas Ngo ’08, Anna Walters ’08 (Willamette Week), Andy Matarrese ’10 (Ellensburg Daily Record), and Michael Houston ’07. Thanks to Thomas Ngo for sharing. upper 90th percentiles for height and weight, I think we are raising a future Pilot basketball player! I enjoy reading the magazine, keep up the good work. I have many fond memories of my time on the Bluff and still try to maintain contact with Heidi Keller and Lorretta Krautscheid, two outstanding UP staff members who played a significant part in my spiritual, emotional, and professional development.”
’07 Where It All Began
Krista (Scott) Miller and Jared Miller have one of those UP fairytale romance stories to tell—they met and fell in love on The Bluff, in the Commons specifically; took a number
for Huntington’s disease. He has accepted a post-doctoral fellowship at the University of Minnesota, where he will study stem cell therapies for Parkinson’s disease. Mariam Bukair and Travis Hinkle were married at sunset on February 12, 2015, on the beach at Tamarindo, Costa Rica. She currently works in sales for Xerox in Portland.
’10 Don’t You Just Love Him?
Here’s a photo of Stephanie Bayne and Isaac Rains with their new baby, Foster Dominic Rains, born March 1, 2015. The proud grandmother of little Isaac is, by the way, retiring School of Nursing dean Joanne Warner. Newfound time, prepare classes from political science to be spent professor Lauretta Frederking, with the kept right on falling in love, grandbaby, graduated in 2007, got marright Joanne? ried, and are now the proud A report parents of Kaylee, born in May from Rev. Jim 2014. They came back to cam- Connelly, C.S.C.: “Amy Dollopus for a visit with Lauretta witch and Colin Bryant were (beaming proudly, far right) married on November 8, 2014, early this year and we were at St. Paul’s Cathedral in Yathere to capture the moment. kima, Wash., where Amy has been a PACE teacher since ’08 Make That “Doc” graduation. Stephanie Lies and Andrew Crane completed Jennifer Milne were brideshis Ph.D. in neuroscience at maids. Amy’s brother, Cody Central Michigan University in Dollowitch ’08, and Samantha December 2014. His research Sweet were married just befocused on stem cell therapies fore on October 8, 2014.”
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N O T E S Thanks so much Mary, we’ll keep an eye on Connell for you.
’14 We Won Her Over
Joe Coulter took part in a pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain, as told in a recent campus lecture titled “I’ll Push You—El Camino Pilgrimage.” Told by two best friends, Patrick Gray and Justin Skeesuck, the lecture followed their 500-mile pilgrimage through northern Spain last summer on the Camino de Santiago, with one pushing the other’s wheelchair for the entire six-week trek. Justin, diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, is a motivational speaker who encourages and inspires others with physical disabilities to travel. Patrick, a nurse and life-long friend from Boise, Idaho, took on the task of pushing Justin in his wheelchair for 35 straight days. The journey did not go perfectly—on the second day, a wheel snapped off, but they made it through with the help of strangers. “Patrick and Justin are two of the most spiritual men I have ever met,” says Joe, who turned out to be one of the strangers who helped push, pull, and carry Justin on the trail. “I am thankful for the opportunity to walk with them; it has impacted my relationship with God and how His hands are constantly at work in our lives.” Find out more about Patrick and Justin at www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmhZrkjNydM or go to http://tinyurl.com/lred4o7. ’11 A Good Story
Austin Mixsell, who works as a civil engineer for the Western Service Area of the Navigational Aids Engineering Center, Federal Aviation Administration in Renton, Wash., was featured an FAA publication as part of National Engineers Week in February 2015. We heard about this thanks to his uncle, Mike Cebula ’80, who writes: “I thought this was a pretty nice story about Austin—a story as well as a job that would not have been possible without his education at the University of
Portland.” Thanks Mike, we couldn’t agree more, and we always love to hear from family members who want to point out the awesome things our alumni are up to.
’12 High Praise
A nice note here from Mary Thornton, grandmother of Daniel Morantte: “Our grandson Daniel, who graduated from UP two years ago, is now a teacher. Our other grandson, Connell Morantte, will start at UP in the fall. We are very happy with the University of Portland.”
We received the following note from Kevin and Theresa Kannengeiser, parents of Eileen Kannengeiser, along with a generous gift to our student scholarship fund: “Our daughter Eileen graduated from UP last May (magna cum laude). When we first visited in July 2009 she wasn’t at all impressed with the school. On a return visit in April 2010 she changed her mind, mainly due to the spirit of community she experienced. She chose to attend UP and had a fruitful four-year experience. She even likes the color purple!”
because Michael had us to walk with him.” At the end of the Mass, University President Fr. Mark Poorman, C.S.C., announced the University would posthumously award his bachelor’s degree in May 2016, and invited his family to attend the ceremony. Our prayers and condolences to Michael’s friends and family.
Accounting Students Shine
Four University of Portland accounting students won the regional round of the KPMG Case Competition in Chicago, Ill., on January 17-18, 2015.
’15 Proud Parents
Here’s a note we just have to share, included with a generous gift to UP by Dennis Davies and Julie Feller, parents of Alex “AJ” Davies, Class of 2015: “Our son graduated in May 2015 after earning a B.S. in biology with a minor in chemistry. The opportunities offered by UP—study abroad, small class size, caring professors—have helped him grow into the man he is today, heading off to Regis University’s doctorate in physical therapy program!” Kirk Kalbfleisch is the winner of this year’s Bob Boehmer Award for Creative Student Media. Kirk was honored for his work with campus radio station KDUP. “A cool $100 for the lad,” notes editor Brian Doyle, who shepherds the yearly award named for his good friend and much-missed colleague.
’16 Gone Much Too Soon
The UP community mourned the death and celebrated the life of Michael Eberitzsch II, a junior finance major from Bend, Ore., during a memorial Mass on March 17. Michael was killed in a car crash on his way home for spring break on March 6. Fr. Mark DeMott, C.S.C., who knew Michael from his time as hall director in Shipstad, recalled him as a loyal and fun-loving free spirit who enjoyed having conversations about serious topics like love, school and addiction. “Michael carried his burdens bravely. He carried them up until the day he died,” DeMott said at the memorial Mass. “Those of us who knew him best observed that sometimes life itself proved to be a burden for Michael, that he even questioned whether life is worth living. But this walk was easier
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The team, made up of Erika Schlotfeldt, Jessie Robinson, Emily Glaser, and Courtney Lemon, beat teams from University of Missouri, University of Illinois, University of Washington, DePaul, Colorado State, and Wisconsin. The UP team then traveled to New York at the end of February for the U.S. finals, and competed against other regional teams, including Howard University, Boston College, and University of Michigan. While the team didn’t win the New York event (University of Michigan went on to compete in the international competition), their climb up the national accounting team ladder is something to be proud of.
Faculty, Staff, Friends
Much-loved University of Portland education professor Harold Stauffer passed away at the age of 99 on March 11, 2015, in Portland, Ore. Harold graduated from Kutztown State Teachers College, Pa., in 1937, and taught music in North Dakota, Montana, and Wyoming in his early career. In 1941, he married Marcella Littlefield in Red Lodge, Mont., before serving in the U.S. War Department and Navy. He joined the faculty at the University of Portland in 1962, retiring in 1981. “Always the organizer, my Dad founded the retired professors’ group featured in the Spring 2006 edition of Portland magazine,” according to Harold’s son,
C L A S S Herb. “They still meet regularly.” Survivors include his sister, Katherine; sons, Phillip ’70, Herb ’70, and David ’74; grandsons, Scott, Michael, Patrick, and Daniel; and greatgrandsons, Henry and Oliver. His daughter-in-law Laura Nissinen Stauffer is also a 1983 alumna. Our prayers and condolences to the family and Harold’s many friends and colleagues. Former UP communication studies professor Steve Ward passed away on April 23, 2015. Survivors include his wife, Mary Lee Reed; sons, Steven Jr. ’89 and James; and a grandson, Dexter. A lifelong scholar and educator, Steve earned his bachelor’s degree from UC Santa Barbara in 1968, his master’s from Penn State in 1969, and his doctorate from Penn State in 1978. During his career he taught at Cabrillo High School in Lompoc, Calif.; Behrend College in Erie, Penn.; the University of Portland, and Portland Community College. At UP he taught from 1981 to 1997; he was chair of communication studies from 1987 to 1996; and served as chair of the Faculty Senate from 1988 to 1990. A quietly studious, highly perceptive man who never forgot a student’s name, Steve loved his family and his many friends, Penn State and Detroit sports, train travel, and microbrews. The family suggests donations to American Diabetes Association or PCC Foundation. Our prayers and condolences to the family.
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resources, memorabilia, and photographs from the Archives and Museum. We invite Portland readers and friends to visit our blog and share your comments and stories with us at: https://wordpress.up.edu/ museum. For more information and also how to donate University memorabilia and photographs to the Museum, contact Carolyn Piatz Connolly, museum coordinator, piatz@up.edu; 503-943-8038.
Celebrating Congregation of Holy Cross Jubilees
The Congregation of Holy Cross is celebrating jubilee years for a number of priests around the world, including six who served or still serve at the University of Portland. Rev. Thomas Bill, C.S.C., and Rev. Joseph Browne, C.S.C., are celebrating 60 years since ordination; Rev. James Connelly, C.S.C., Rev. Richard Rutherford, C.S.C., and Rev. James Lackenmier, C.S.C., celebrate 50 years since ordination; and Rev. Randall Rentner, C.S.C., celebrates 25 years since his ordination. Fr. Bill joined the UP faculty as a philosophy professor in 1962, and retired in 1990. For many years he was involved with the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, starting in 1969. He now resides at Holy Cross House in Notre Dame, Ind. Fr. Browne spent 22 years on The Bluff, serving as director of the Wilson W. Clark Library and as both a department chair and dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. Fr. Browne is a certified professional parliamentarian, a contract bridge enthusiast, and a recipient of the University’s James Culligan award for outstanding service. He is retired and resides at Holy Cross House in Notre Dame, Ind. Fr. Connelly came to Portland in 1993, following a University Museum and thirteen year career as arArchives Blog chivist for the Cannons on the bluff; 50 Indiana Provyears of A-Meh-zing Mehling; ince of Holy No frogs were hurt in this Cross at Notre demonstration; Cornerstone Dame. He has West Hall; Hours and Bases; taught church How are They Paid; Return on history at Notre Investment; Retiring UniverDame, King’s sity Faculty — all these and College in Pennsylvania, and more about campus and UniAlokolum National Seminary versity life from the University in Uganda. Fr. Connelly helped Museum and Archives blog. initiate the annual Holy Cross These brief, historical, and in- history conference, and now formative posts are a joint serves as Religious Superior project of the Archives and Mu- at Holy Cross House in Notre seum to share the past through Dame, Ind.
Sarah Lytle ’10 writes: “On September 13, 2014, I had the honor of witnessing one of my best friends from UP, Maryanne Berger ’10 (now Kraeger), marry the love of her life, Adam. I was Maid of Honor and fellow UP alumnus Katie (Carrieres) Circello ’10 was a bridesmaid. The three of us remain close after graduation, not allowing distance or busy lives get in the way of our friendship. The wedding was held in Tacoma, Wash., where the two fell in love and now live. It was a gorgeous day and many UP alumni were there to help celebrate! I have attached a photo; from left to right: Erika Breton ’10, Moira Cashman ’95, Kelly Youngberg ’10, Ralph Bansale ’11, Alyssa Reget ’10, Maryanne Kraeger ’10, Sarah Lytle ’10, Elizabeth Davis ’10, Ryan Circello ’10, and Katie Circello ’10. Stay tuned: in July 2016 I will have Maryanne and Katie in my wedding!” Fr. Lackenmier has taught high school in Connecticut and Massachusetts, and served for 25 years at King’s College, Wilkes-Bare, Pa., including 18 years as president. His board memberships include the Stonehill College board of trustees and the University of Portland board of regents. He is presently a Provincial Council member of the USA Province of the Congregation of Holy Cross. Fr. Rutherford joined the theology department at UP in 1976, and retired in 2012. Fr. Rutherford has been a liturgical consultant to the Archdiocese of Portland and National Conference of Catholic
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Bishops, as well as a key figure in the design of the University’s Chapel of Christ the Teacher. His book, The Death of a Christian: The Order of Christian Funerals, was published in 1990 and is the definitive work on the Church’s revised funeral rites. He has recently been leading expeditions to the ancient Roman city of Pollèntia near Alcúdia in Mallorca, Spain, to conduct archeological research. Fr. Rentner came to Portland in 2010, and served in the student affairs division. Prior to coming here, Fr. Rentner taught high school and served as an assistant hall director and an assistant vice president for student affairs at Notre Dame. He now teaches at Holy Cross High School in Flushing, N.Y.
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The great Hawaiian nurse-journalist Hob Osterlund chatted recently with Arend Folkens ’10, who, like many nurses, makes life-and-death decisions for his patients. Unlike most nurses, though, he makes decisions while traveling 500 m.p.h. at 40,000 feet in the air. “What got me into nursing was aviation,” he says. “I always thought flying was the coolest thing ever. My grandfather was a pilot and a cardiologist. He planted the seed. I thought about pre-med but then figured I would be 40 years old before I could make a living. I found nursing through a volunteer search and rescue team that flew helicopters on mountain rescues. I did a ride-along with one of the guys who was a nurse, and I instantly changed my major. The U of P could not have been a more perfect place for me. I knew I needed a critical care background to be a flight nurse because there is so much independent thinking. I was lucky enough to get a residency at a comprehensive ICU program at Parkland, in Dallas, the place where JFK was taken when he was murdered. Parkland is a trauma center and a county hospital – the beds were always full. It was pretty nuts. After my two contract years there I ended up in travel nursing in Colorado. Then I came across Angel MedFlight. It’s a flying ICU. All interventions are available on the airplane. At my interview with them I was pounded with all kinds of questions about what I would do if this happens or that happens – CHF, sepsis, drugs, dosing for intubation, cardioversion – but I was well prepared by UP and Parkland, and I got the job. We – the nurses, paramedics, and pilots – live all over the US. Our shift is 8 days at a time, flying with that plane, wherever it goes. We get a mandatory ten hours of sleep. When we’re in service we could go anywhere. Last week I ended up flying to Cancun to pick up an elderly gentleman who had to be taken to Minnesota. When you go to another country you have to take all your gear because you never know what supplies they will have. Ventilator, oxygen, 100 pounds of gear to meet the patient. The youngest patient I have had was 6 years old. She had to get to Children’s in LA. Her kidneys were failing, she needed frequent blood transfusions, she was way too sick to fly commercial. We took her with her mother and her brother and got her where she needed to be. She had a rare syndrome where she couldn’t produce red blood cells and had anoxic brain injury during birth. “I wish my grandpa could be a syringe in my pocket. He died before I could show him all the potential I really had. It helps that my grandmother is a nurse and she understands. She knows about all the craziness and the long shifts and the array of sickness. But I get cabin fever now if I miss even a week of flying. Someday I’ll get my pilot’s license and be the one in the front seat, like when I was five years old with my grandfather. Me in the left seat and him in the right, as my co-pilot...”
Deaths
David E. Sullivan ’36,September 29, 2013, Spokane, Wash. Frank McKenna Bosch ’39, March 19, 2015. Farrell Dean Curtis ’47, April 25, 2015. Hubert Louis Thomas ’47 CP ’54, February 2, 2013, San Jose, Calif. Pauline Ann (Krueger) Rennie ’47, March 22, 2015, Portland, Ore. Constance “Connie” Flabetich ’50, July 31, 2014, Portland, Ore. Jack Ford ’50, February 22, 2015. Lawrence Reverman ’51, April 23, 2015,
Richard Roberg ’51, August 11, 2014. Almer L. Kitchin ’52, January 12, 2015. John Bracker Waite ’52, January 7, 2015, Portland, Ore. Wayne Oberding ’52, March 1, 2015, Portland, Ore. James Patrick McDowd ’53, August 14, 2014, San Rafael, Calif. William “Bill” Kneeland ’54, June 20, 2014, San Diego, Calif. Richard Gerhards ’56, March 24, 2015, Portland, Ore. John Radich, husband of Mary Katherine (Arndorfer) Radich ’58, February 5, 2015.
Dean F. James ’58, March 1, 2015, Rock Hill, N.C. Charles A. Schaeffer ’62, April 23, 2015. Keith Larsen ’62, January 30, 2015. Jacob “Lee” Jackson, brother of Queenie Samuel ’73, February 9, 2015. Robert Lafrenz ’74, February 2, 2015. Gerald McElhaney, father of Daniel McElhaney ’74, January 10, 2015, Eugene, Ore. Wray Jacobs ’76, December 23, 2014, Gresham, Ore. Mark Gaulke ’80, March 10, 2015.
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George Edens, husband of Kathryn Edens ’85, father of Sarah Fisher ’78, January 25, 2015. Robert Gerber, father of Jon Gerber ’97, March 22, 2015, Vancouver, Wash. Michael Eberitzsch ’16, March 6, 2015. Harold Stauffer, retired UP education professor, March 11, 2015, Portland, Ore. Steve Ward, former UP communication studies professor, April 23, 2015. Martha Wachsmuth, assitant archivist, May 4, 2015.
PHOTO BY JOHN BECKMAN
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The late Patricia Beckman (here at Jenny Lake in Wyoming) was an elegant, wry, dignified, witty woman of grace, with a flinty intelligence and a generous heart. She died in April, at age 89, with her husband John Beckman ’42 at her side. John (a wonderful photographer who helped invent superfast cameras) and Patricia have been remarkably generous to the University over the years, contributing scholarships honoring Brother Godfrey Vassallo, C.S.C., and the inimitable Bill Reed, among others; they are also the founders of the Beckman Humor Project, which strives to bring warm communal wit and humor to bear against violence, arrogance, and greed. Patricia had a certain steely glance that we will miss very much. Prayers. Summer 2015 47
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Departing The Bluff, after ten years as professor and dean of nursing: the inimitable exuberant vivid vibrant ebullient Joanne Warner, who retires in July. Passionate, hilarious, visionary, energetic, irrepressible – there are not enough adjectives in our language for her cheerful direct vibe. During her tenure nursing enrollment rose steadily, to where a fifth of the University’s students are nursing majors; she shepherded nursing’s first doctoral program into being; and the School of Nursing set fundraising records, welcomed a dozen new scholarships, expanded its relationship with Providence Health and Services, expanded its faculty and staff, and drew national attention for its innovative Dedicated Education Unit model for clinical education. But it is the grace and honesty with which she worked, especially with students, that is her proper legacy on The Bluff. Her exuberant humor, her absolute devotion to nursing and teaching as holy acts of witness and celebration, her integrity; that is what we will remember, that is what we will miss very much indeed. And she hugged with all her heart, as you see here, at an April dinner in her honor with alumni and students. Portland 48
PHOTO BY STEVE HAMBUCHEN
Question: What is the point of the University of Portland, in the end? Other than thorough education in basic science, history, literature, theology, philosophy, and meticulous and specific general preparation for the career of your choice, and a chance at spiritual stimulation and exploration deeper than you have experienced heretofore, and the chance to meet the best friends you will ever have and occasionally the spouse you would never have met otherwise, and the chance to meet and befriend remarkable and extraordinary professors and staffers and alumni and regents and donors and friends, and the chance to get rained on steadily for eight months a year but o my heavens August and September and October and sometimes April are glorious? Answer: Kids. Notes: It’s all about kids, in the end. We educate tall kids so that they will go and try to heal and salve and elevate a world of other kids of all sizes. Kids are holy and wonderful and amazing and the future and the fact that there’s one scared frightened terrified bruised injured trapped hammered kid in the world is one kid too many like that. Is the University of Portland going to change the world buy itself? No. But we are damn well going to try with all our might and passion and creativity. We figure if we continue to get better and better and educate more amazing tall kids, we will attract ever more teammates, and maybe someday the world will tilt, and it will be a better cleaner gentler safer sweeter world for kids of all sizes. We really and truly think this. That’s the point of the University of Portland. That’s why we ask politely all the time for whopping gifts and donations. You can help us get better. You can help us help kids. Create a scholarship! Build a residence hall! Endow a laboratory! Send a girl with no money all the way through college! Wouldn’t that be a kick? You can do it. Call Dwain Fullerton, 503 943 8225, fullerto@up.edu. Tell him an intent pink eight-year-old basketball kid with an earring sent you. He’ll understand.
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THE HURRIERS
THE UNIVERSITY’S TRACK TEAM, 1910 They wear purple today, but the University’s track and cross country folks are just as intent and sinewy now as they were 105 years ago. The Pilot men’s cross country team, third in the nation last year (deliciously ahead of the Oregon Ducks) is back in action in early fall, as are the Pilot women, who finished seventh in the West. The spring track season featured perhaps the greatest single day in Pilot athletic history: Katherine Maus ’15 set not one but two University records in a single day – 40 feet, 8 inches in the triple jump, and then, somehow, astoundingly, 12.27 in the 100 meters later that afternoon. All generous gifts to Pilot athletics and scholarships welcome, of course: call Colin McGinty at 503.943.8005.