On August 10, 1965, Notre Dame dedicated its first dormitory built specifically for female students. Lewis Hall was originally built as a residence for the religious women pursuing advanced degrees at Notre Dame, accommodating 143 nuns, all in private rooms. It would later open to include female lay graduate students as the number of religious declined. In 1975, Lewis was converted to a residence for undergraduate women and the single rooms were turned into doubles.
Architectural sketch of Lewis Hall by Ellerbe Architects, c1962.Holy Cross Sisters Mary Frances Jerome (MA in Greek Literature) and Mary Lucretia (MS in Chemistry) were the first two women to earn degrees at Notre Dame in 1917. The formal establishment of the Summer School Program in 1918 and the Graduate School in 1932 brought thousands of women to Notre Dame from across the country. Since most did not live locally, they did their coursework over the summer sessions, dragging out the time needed to complete their bachelors, masters, and doctoral degrees.
Lewis Hall exterior with female students, 1965.
On April 28, 1962, University President Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh announced a million dollar donation from the Frank J. Lewis Foundation for the construction of a dormitory for these women to live on campus year-round and earn their degrees. As such, they could earn a masters degree in 15 months rather than over five summer sessions. Hesburgh said, “the new hall will accelerate the graduate training of the devoted women who constitute the heart of Catholic education in America” [Notre Dame Press Releases, April 1962].
A female student studying in her private room in Lewis Hall, 1965.
Chicago business man Frank J. Lewis unfortunately had passed away in 1960 before he could see his foundation fund Lewis Hall. Before they were married, his future wife Julia founded the Illinois Club for Catholic Women in 1919, which was “a home for young Catholic business women away from home and in modest circumstances.” The couple was extremely active in philanthropic work throughout Chicago and “their outstanding contributions toward the development of Catholic higher education [was] so great as to have earned them the title of Godfather and Godmother to Loyola University, DePaul University, Lewis College at Lockport, Illinois, and others.” Frank believed that “God gives a man money so that he will share it with others” [UDIS 99/15].
Lewis Hall Dedication, 1965/0810. Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, Mundelein College President Sister Mary Ann Ida Gannon, and Mrs. Julia Lewis.
In a move to eventually make space for all women undergraduate students who chose to live on campus, Lewis Hall’s resident profile changed in the fall of 1975. The graduate students were moved to Badin Hall for the year in the anticipation of the opening of the Grace O’Hara graduate student apartments in 1976. The undergraduate women living in Badin Hall since opening to women in the fall of 1972 were moved to Lewis Hall in the interim. Badin Hall returned to house undergraduate women after this one year shuffle.
A group of Notre Dame female students in a Lewis Hall lounge, Fall 1967.
While the move initially upset students all around, Notre Dame saw it as the best option available to facilitate the graduate and ever-increasing undergraduate women, without further displacing the on-campus male students.
Even though graduate students are often overlooked on campus, Lewis Hall plays a very important role in the history of coeducation at Notre Dame.
The second annual Notre Dame Day will kick-off on April 26th at 18:42 (6:42pm) with 29 hours of live broadcast, featuring a variety of Notre Dame departments, organizations, clubs, dorms, and alumni. The ND Day crew will be in the University Archives on Monday, April 27th at 3:45pm. Be sure to tune in online as we show off some interesting pieces of Notre Dame history. Please visit our ND Day page to support the Notre Dame Archives: http://notredameday.nd.edu/notredamearchives
Letter from Rev. Edward Sorin authorizing James Edwards, “Founder of the Catholic Archives of America,” to collect letters and documents written by or to Sorin or about the Congregation of Holy Cross, 1885/0202. Edward’s collections are the foundation of the Catholic manuscripts in the Notre Dame Archives.
There is $1,000,000 up for grabs and the votes made on Notre Dame Day will determine how that money is distributed. For the first gift you make (minimum $10), you will receive five votes to spread as you wish. Your initial five votes for a $10 donation could mean an additional $100 for the University Archives. Each gift after that (minimum $10) will give you one vote. If you plan to donate more than $10, it would be worthwhile to break it up into separate $10 gifts. In addition to the voting, you may designate your gift to go directly to the Notre Dame Archives by noting it in the special instructions box. Voting has already opened, but the leaderboards and activity won’t be revealed until Sunday night.
Your generous donations on Notre Dame Day will help the University Archives to support its collections – from buying archival supplies and archaic video equipment to digitization. Thank you for supporting the University Archives in preserving the history of Notre Dame and of the Catholic Church in America.
Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, and University Archivist Wendy Clauson Schlereth posing in the University Archives with the academic hoods given to Fr. Hesburgh along with honorary degrees, 1982.
I mourn the passing of Father Ted in a deeply personal as well as professional way.
In 1978, when I was an ambitious but still young archivist, he believed in me enough to give me the chance to be University Archivist, passing over others who on paper looked to be far more qualified at that point in time than I was. I had little doubt, of course, that I was equipped to do the job, but I think Father Ted’s choice startled more than a few. He could, and did, take those kinds of chances when it came to people. Because it wasn’t just who you were on paper that mattered to him, it was who he believed you to be, and perhaps more importantly what you were capable of becoming that was most important. Father Ted inspired so many of us to become all that he saw in us, even when others may have been more short sighted.
I had the privilege of participating in one of the early “Fly-In” weekends here at Notre Dame, probably in the mid to late ‘70s, when very wealthy potential donors were brought to campus for a very special set of events. The intent, of course, was to engage them to the point they would make a substantial financial commitment to the University. Everything about the weekend was top drawer, but what impressed me the most was what happened at the Saturday night dinner. After a rather lavish meal, served on the 14th floor of the Memorial Library, everyone pushed back from their tables and relocated themselves in comfortable seating with brandies in hand. Father Ted lit a cigar and proceeded to share his vision for what Notre Dame had the potential to become. As his smoke slowly circled above him, I watched his audience become totally mesmerized. His effect on everyone in the room was palpable. I’d never seen anything like it and will never forget it.
I’m not sure Father Ted’s charisma was as evident in large public settings as it was privately, although surely he was a master of the public event. But in private, I think it was probably near impossible to refuse anything he asked of you. The paradox here is he mostly didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. You knew.
Father Ted knew how to bind people to a shared vision, of intellectual community, of religious commitment, of personal, moral integrity. He was the consummate leader. He never micro-managed: if he had enough confidence in you to give you a job, he respected your professional competence and gave you the freedom to get the job done. Importantly, he also provided you with the resources you’d need to succeed.
Father Ted gave as generously as he took. The support he gave me, personally, and the Archives that he entrusted to my care, spanned all the years I served him and this university. He used his many personal contacts to solicit collections to enrich our holdings. The door to his office was always open to me, for advice and counsel, for assistance. He gave me enormous freedom to make judgment calls on access to information, relying on the fact I also knew when to defer a decision and kick an issue upstairs. I never left his office without also receiving his prayers and blessings. In 1986, as his presidency was winding down, he surprised me and my husband with a Special Presidential Award. He called it a “two-fer,” to recognize two historians who had committed their professional lives to Notre Dame. But I knew, for my part, it was also his way of telling me our job together was not done when he left office. Remember what I said about binding.
The University Archives was really transformed by Father Ted’s sense of history and the path upon which he propelled us. Anyone who knew him knew he had a strong sense of his own place in history, but that place was as one player amongst many, one point in time along a continuum. His support of the Archives did not begin with me, and our dynamic was certainly different than what he experienced with my immediate two predecessors, two Holy Cross priests, who were the only other University Archivists during Father Ted’s tenure as president. In 1952, when Father Ted took office as president, Father Tom McAvoy had been University Archivist since 1929. A formidable figure within the Community, he embodied all things having to do with history on campus, and by all accounts on occasion was a thorn in Father Ted’s side. When Father Tom Blantz succeeded him, upon Father McAvoy’s death in 1969, Father Ted now had an Archivist whose gentle and unassuming style could not have been in greater contrast to the man he replaced. What unified these three men, however, was a common past and present, of Community and of the University. The history in the Archives was theirs.
When I came along, I was different. I was young, I was a lay person, I was a married woman. Many thought any one of those factors could have disqualified me from consideration for the particular administrative position at Notre Dame that I wanted, and wanted badly. But they didn’t, not singly or collectively. I was offered the opportunity to take responsibility for an operation with a reputation for excellence, and to take it to the next level. I have always believed my appointment by Father Ted was evidence of not only how much he valued the past, but how willing he was to break from it if he thought it was the right thing to do. It was made absolutely clear to me that I was Father Ted’s choice as University Archivist, it was his decision and his alone, and that I would “serve at the pleasure of the President.”
For me, it has, indeed, been a pleasure. I trust I have served him well and never gave him cause to regret his decision. He will be sorely missed.
Wendy Clauson Schlereth
University Archivist
February 26, 2015
A selection of favorite photos of Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh
chosen by the Notre Dame Archives’ staff:
Portrait of Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, outside with the Main Building Dome in the background, May 1980. Photo by Bruce Harlan.Copy of a page from Father Hesburgh’s baby book, 1917. “Baby’s Name is Theodore Martin Hesburgh, being named for his father and Grandpa – and here’s hoping he will be as good and noble as they are.”Copy of a page from Father Hesburgh’s baby book, 1917. “Important Events: Baby was born at the Crouse-Irving Hospital – Syracuse, NY on Friday, May 25th, 1917 at 11:45 a.m. – the doctor being Dr. Frank McMarrow. He weighed nine pounds and looked like a little rosebud. Mother was so glad God sent her a little boy, for sister would be so glad when she grew up to have a big brother. Daddy was so happy – his face looked like a morning in June.”Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh as a baby with his older sister Mary, 1918. Photo by Fairbanks.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC (second from left), as a seminary student, with other students, in front of Holy Cross Hall in winter with snow, 1935. The 1934-1935 school year was Hesburgh’s first at Notre Dame.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh in cold-weather gear while visiting the South Pole (Antarctica) in November 1962 as Chairman of the National Science Board’s International Science Activities Committee. US Navy photograph, taken by Photographer’s Mate Chief (PhC) Frank Kazukaistis, USN.University of Southern California (USC) Commencement – USC President Norman H. Topping adjusting John Wayne’s academic robes while Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh looks on, 1968/0606.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh at an unidentified wedding reception, c1965.Football Game Day – Notre Dame vs. Purdue, 1953/1002. Laetare Medalist Irene Dunne (center) watching the game in the stands with Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh and Ella Morris.United States Civil Rights Commission members at Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, July 1966. Back row: Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, unidentified, Robert S. Rankin Front row: Erwin Griswold, Frankie Muse Freeman, John A. Hannah, unidentifiedRev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, fishing near Notre Dame’s remote conference center near Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin, c1980.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, surrounded by a group of women, standing on a dock with fishing poles and a pile of caught fish, c1975.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh walking with members of the Student Government, December 1970. The student on the far right is Dave Krashna, Student Body President. The middle student is unidentified and the student next to Hesburgh is Mark Winings, Student Body Vice President.Commencement – Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, President Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Cardinal Giovanni Battista Montini sitting in the back seat of a car at Notre Dame, 1960/0605.Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh holding up a chalice during Mass in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, 1961. Photo by Paul Fusco, LOOK Magazine [published in LOOK Magazine, 10/24/1961]
On May 22, 1896, the United States Congress approved the Disposition of Condemned Cannon, Etc., which provided the Secretaries of War and of the Navy the authority “to loan, or give to soldiers’ monumental associations, posts of the Grand Army of the Republic, and municipal corporations, condemned ordnance, guns, and cannon balls which may not be needed in the service of either of said Departments” (Annual Reports of the War Department, 1903). In December 1899, Notre Dame GAR Post 569 filed a petition with the Secretary of War to acquire two cannons for campus.
Commencement flag-raising ceremony on Main Quad with the two Civil War cannons, c1930. Hurley Hall is in the background.
With the help of Indiana Representative Abraham Brick, Notre Dame requested a ten-inch Columbiad cannon from Fort Winthrop in Massachusetts and a ten-inch seacoast mortar from Fort Morgan in Alabama. After about six months of back and forth, the Fort Morgan mortar became unavailable. It is unclear if the deal fell through because getting the mortar to Notre Dame would be too expensive or if they simply took too long figuring out the logistics. Consequently, the request was changed to an eight-inch seacoast howitzer from Fort McHenry in Maryland.
Statement of Guns, Howitzers, and Mortars on Hand at the Various Forts. F.H. Wurzer in the House of Representatives sent this list on 04/23/1900 to Brother Paul for him to pick out two cannons for Notre Dame.
General William Olmstead of Notre Dame GAR Post 569 inquired about the history of the gun at Fort Winthrop. Ordnance Sergeant Joseph R. Neaves responded that he didn’t think it had much of a history – it came to Fort Winthrop in the late 1850s or early 1860s and that it probably was never fired since it wasn’t mounted (UPEL 87/05).
The cannons arrived to Notre Dame sometime before September 22, 1900, when they are first mentioned in Scholastic. The article recounts how football manager John Eggeman went looking for his billy goat during a storm, and “[a]fter a long search, John discovered the goat trying to eat one of the cannons down near the post-office. Of course this was a bluff on the part of the goat” [Scholastic, 09/22/1900, page 59].
George T. Hanlon laying on a cannon on Main Quad, c1910s.
The cannons were located next to the flag pole, which then was just west of Hurley Hall. While they were a prominent part of the landscape, they didn’t garner much attention in the student publications. Due to their location, they stood as sentinels during flag-raising ceremonies. In later years, it became tradition for the graduating head cheerleader to lead one last college yell from atop one of the cannons during the flag-raising ceremony at Commencement.
Commencement – Graduating head cheerleader Al Perrine leads the traditional last yell from atop one of the cannons as the class flag is raised on Main Quad while clergy, faculty, and students are gathered around, 1941/0601.
In 1942, Notre Dame donated the cannons to a scrap drive to support the war effort of World War II, thus returning them back to the United States military and putting them back to work for a new war.
Scholastic issue October 16, 1942, page 11: Article featuring the Notre Dame donation of the Civil War cannons to the St. Joseph County scrap drive during World War II (WWII)
In October of 1932, dog breeder Charles Otis and his partner Thomas Bolton announced that they were going to donate an Irish Terrier to Notre Dame to serve as mascot for the football team. According to an advertisement in a 1934 football program, Otis had also presented Irish Terriers to celebrities such as Amelia Earhart and Will Rogers. This was at a time when Notre Dame didn’t have a consistent mascot. The Alumni Club of Toledo had presented two Irish Terriers both named Tipperary Terrence in 1924, but it doesn’t seem to be something Notre Dame pursued on its own.
Otis presented Brick Top Shaun Rhue to Football Coach Heartley “Hunk” Anderson during the Navy game, which was played in Otis’s hometown of Cleveland on November 19, 1932. Shaun Rhue (“Old Red”) traveled with the team for the last two remaining games of the season – to New York for the Army game and to Los Angeles for USC.
GATH 6/71: Irish terrier mascot dog Brick Top Shaun Rhue wearing a football helmet, c1932. Caption: “With affectionate regards to Shaun Rhu and the College of Notre Dame. Best hopes and wishes from Chas. A. Otis.”
Shaun Rhue was born on January 14, 1932, so he was still a bit of a pup when given the task of Notre Dame mascot. He stayed briefly with Hunk Anderson and then Athletic Trainer Eugene “Scrapiron” Young before moving to campus at the request of University President Rev. Charles O’Donnell: “I should like to have the dog on the campus and get acquainted with him. He quite won my heart in the few glimpses I have had of him thus far. As a mascot he made the Army mule look pretty sick last Saturday” [O’Donnell to Otis, 12/01/1932, UPCO 6/121]. O’Donnell continued in his next letter, “When the season is over, he will be installed on the campus as a regular member of the family, and have the freedom of the city, so to speak. The only danger that will ever threaten him is that he may be spoiled by kindness. Everybody loves him” [O’Donnell to Otis, 12/09/1932]. Otis was glad to hear Shaun Rhue was doing well, but warned O’Donnell not to overfeed the dog.
Otis sent Fr. O’Donnell Shaun Rhue’s papers, which are preserved in the University Archives. His Certificate of Pedigree lists his lineage back to his great, great grandparents. The Certificate of Entry into the American Kennel Club also transfers ownership to Notre Dame. Otis told O’Donnell that Shaun Rhue was a fine specimen of his breed and would likely win in dog shows. It is unknown, and probably unlikely, if Notre Dame showed Brick Top Shaun Rhue.
UPCO 8/01: Certified pedigree chart of Irish terrier mascot Brick Top Shaun Rhue, 1932.UPCO 8/01: American Kennel Club Stud Book Certificate of Entry for Irish terrier mascot Brick Top Shaun Rhue, listing his history and lineage, 1932/1119.UPCO 8/01: American Kennel Club Stud Book Certificate of Entry for Irish terrier mascot Brick Top Shaun Rhue, 1932/1119. Verso of the document transferring ownership from Thomas Bolton to Notre Dame.
Other than these few documents announcing the arrival of Brick Top Shaun Rhue to Notre Dame, there is unfortunately not much mention of him later in Scholastic or elsewhere. It is thought that he simply ran away from campus in the spring of 1933. If so, Shaun Rhue may have never graced the sidelines of Notre Dame Stadium, but the idea of Irish Terriers as Notre Dame’s mascot would persist. In the fall of 1935, William Butler presented Notre Dame with another Irish Terrier – Clashmore Mike, who would remain at Notre Dame for ten years and garner much publicity.
Football Coach Heartley “Hunk” Anderson with Irish Terrier mascot Brick Top Shaun Rhue, 1932
In the fall of 1936, Scholastic attempted to trace the history of Irish Terriers mascots at Notre Dame. Within the span of a short twelve years, Tipperary Terrence I and II were lost from the institutional memory altogether and there was only a vague recollection of Brick Top Shaun Rhue:
“Shaun was a likable dog in many ways, but also had a few bad traits. He, like many students, enjoyed nothing better than a little vacation in the form of a week-end. His week-ends, however, were without official permission and extended not only for the week-end, but for weeks, his latest ‘week-end’ extending from the spring of 1933 until now. His mental alertness was also of the questionable quality as he was often known to stand nonchalantly in the path of oncoming cars, only escaping injury and death because of the driver’s quick action with the brakes.
Official mascots prior to Shaun Rhue’s time were unknown, at least in the opinion of ‘old timers’ connected with the University. Many, on being questioned concerning the existence of mascots at the University, merely shrugged their shoulders in a dubious manner.” [Scholastic, October 23, 1936, page 19].
While Notre Dame would flourish in the 19th century, it was not an easy road. Most American educational institutions faced severe obstacles that often led to ruin. John Theodore Wack noted, “Of the fifty-one Catholic colleges which were chartered in all of the United States before 1861, only sixteen were still in existence in 1927. Students, faculty members, and administrators simply could not be found to fill and staff many of the new colleges. Funds were scarce, donors were disillusioned, and creditors were apprehensive; most of the colleges quietly disappeared, leaving an old stone building or two for the wonderment of the children of future generations” [Wack, Notre Dame: Foundations, 1842-1857]. The first few decades of Notre Dame’s history was filled with many of these same hardships.
For the first few academic years, enrollment at Notre Dame hovered around thirty students. Most were preparatory students and only a select few were at the collegiate level. The student body was also highly transient in the beginning, with barley half returning the following term. The faculty was comprised entirely of clergy, whose salary consisted solely of room and board. Most of the faculty were not qualified to teach at the collegiate level and language barriers of the French priests and brothers proved problematic. Tuition, often paid through barter or labor, was a necessity to keep the University running. Therefore, discipline tended to be rather lax in the early years, much to the chagrin of Brother Gatian, who was the outspoken secretary of the Council of Professors.
Sorin and the administration struggled to define the academic curriculum for Notre Dame. The initial plans modeled the French educational system, as that is what they knew. The nuances didn’t translate well into the American Midwest. Sorin then looked to other American Universities for guidance and settled on modeling a curriculum after that of St. Louis University. However, the American pioneer boys craved a more practical education and were not as drawn to the classics as their East Coast contemporaries may have been. While the classics were offered, most students took the “English Course,” which taught business skills such as bookkeeping, which the students found to be more pragmatic. It took a while to get the right combination and the appropriate faculty, but more and more students were returning to their studies at Notre Dame in the late 1840s and early 1850s.
Broadside advertisement for Notre Dame featuring an engraving of the first Main Building, 1847.
Another continued sources of contention was the dynamics of personalities between Fr. Sorin, Vincennes’ Bishop Hailandière, and Superior General of the Congregation of Holy Cross Rev. Basil Moreau back in Le Mans, France. Sorin still envisioned Notre Dame being the epicenter of a national Catholic educational system. Hailandière was not happy that Sorin was looking to expand outside of the diocese. Moreau was not happy with Sorin’s lack of bookkeeping and, like many others, was concerned over the debts Notre Dame had accrued. Moreau also did not understand the American cultural differences Sorin faced and he was not a fan of the liberties Sorin was wont to take. The physical distance between them bred misunderstandings, and Sorin often acted impulsively on opportunities because he did not have time to get permission from France. Despite all of the conflict, Moreau never gave up on Sorin or the Notre Dame dream, although at times both parties were ready to throw in the towel.
Also in the mix of cantankerous personalities was the return of Rev. Stephen T. Badin to Notre Dame in 1845. Badin approached Sorin with some investment opportunities in exchange for a pension in his old age. Badin had some land in Kentucky, which he offered to Notre Dame to help with the financial struggles. However, when Sorin sold the land at a much lower price than what Badin thought they were worth, the feud between the two head-strong priests began. Badin began publicly criticizing Sorin and the administration at a time when the fledgling Notre Dame could ill-afford bad press. Sorin retorted to Badin, “In two words, no one has done more good for the institute than you, Monsieur, and no one has done it more harm” [Sorin to Badin, quoted in Wack].
Badin’s attacks and Moreau’s concerns weren’t without some founding, however Sorin often wished to state his case in person to eliminate further misinformation. Yet when Father Sorin left Notre Dame for months on end to attend to business in France, Vincennes, Indianapolis, Kentucky, or New Orleans, those left in charged at Notre Dame often floundered. “There should be no question: Father Sorin was the essential ingredient in Notre Dame du Lac. Without his yeast, there would have been no growth. Until some other person as capable as he could come forth, Father Sorin was necessary to the existence of the institution which he had founded” [Wack].
Sorin also was contending with outside forces in the heavily Protestant community in which the Catholic Notre Dame resided. Sorin felt that the outsiders regarded Notre Dame with an unsure and scrutinizing eye, looking for any excuse to tear down the new Catholic institution. In spite of the many crises he faced, Sorin maintained Notre Dame as best he could with a facade of success, stability, and permanence. Any rumblings in the town square of Notre Dame’s financial struggles or battles with disease could adversely effect enrollment and thus the future of Notre Dame. On the other hand, Sorin believed that “in America, one must attract public attention to achieve success” [Wack]. He worked hard to keep Notre Dame in the spotlight, even if it meant going further into debt. While the return on investment would be difficult to calculate for the time, Sorin splurged with such purchases as Dr. Cavalli’s museum collection in 1845 and America’s largest carillon in 1856.
Portrait of Rev. Edward Sorin sporting a neck beard, c1860s-1870s.
Notre Dame was not immune from natural disasters. Fires were relatively common and often disastrous. In 1849 the Manual Labor School was completely destroyed, convincing Sorin to take a gamble and send a company of brothers and a few townspeople to join the California gold rush. Their expedition was unsuccessful in finding gold, and sadly lead to the death of Brother Placidus and the desertion of George Campeau and Brothers Stephen and Gatian. The move also furthered the chasm between Moreau and Sorin, as Sorin acted without permission from the Motherhouse.
In 1855, the original log cabins near Old College, which were then being used as stables, burned and much of the farm equipment and storehouse were destroyed. Fortunately, the fire remained contained to that area and did not touch the rest of the campus buildings. It most likely would have been the end for Notre Dame if campus were destroyed at that point in history.
Disease was a such constant at Notre Dame with annual summer outbreaks of malaria and cholera that Sorin considered several times abandoning the site for less toxic land. Sorin and the administration figured the problem arose from the marshy lakes and stagnant water. They tried unsuccessfully to lower the water levels by digging trenches, but the real issue was a dam downstream near the St. Joseph River owned by Mr. Rush. Legal actions and attempts to buy the land from Mr. Rush were futile. He refused to budge. In 1854, an epidemic of typhoid fever ran through Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s Academy in Bertrand, claiming over twenty victims, mostly faculty and staff. To quell panic in the community, burials were held at night and information about the crisis was kept quiet.
In 1855, Rush finally conceded to sell his land to Notre Dame, but when he backed out at the last minute, Sorin sent a group of the strongest men at Notre Dame to go bust up the dam themselves. Rush then went through with the sale of his land. Notre Dame’s lakes receded and the disease dissipated.
Engraving of Second Main Building from the program for the Annual Festival of St. Edward, patronal feast of Very Rev. Edward Sorin (Founder’s Day), 1867/1012. Someone later added hand-drawn festoons and flags in pencil.
While Sorin and Notre Dame faced many hardships, they also garnered much success. Notre Dame greatly benefited from the Catholic networks in American and in France. While some opportunities turned contentious, Sorin’s reputation as successful “college-builder” opened many doors. In 1856, Bishop O’Regan of Chicago struck a deal with Sorin that all Chicago parochial schools would be under the direction of the Congregation of Holy Cross.
The purchase of Mr. Rush’s land near the St. Joseph River in 1855 enabled Sorin to move the Holy Cross Sisters from Mishawaka and Saint Mary’s Academy in Bertrand closer to Notre Dame. Around the same time, an incredibly generous donation from William Phelan of his land near Notre Dame helped to keep the institution afloat financially.
The 1850s brought an influx of immigrants to the United States, primarily people from Ireland and Germany who were fleeing famine and civil war in their homelands. Many of those immigrants were Catholic and were settling in the Midwest. The advent of the railroad through South Bend at this time would greatly help Notre Dame to grow its enrollment. Greater enrollment necessitated expansion of Main Building in 1865-1866. Amid typical Notre Dame pomp and circumstance, Notre Dame was consecrated on August 15, 1866, and newspaper reported that “the ceremony will eclipse everything of the kind which has ever taken place in the United States.”
The foundations that Fr. Sorin established in the 1840s and 1850s enabled Notre Dame to persevere through inevitable crises. Like most other American institutions, Notre Dame struggled during the Civil War. Many members of the Congregation of Holy Cross served as chaplains, notably Rev. William Corby, who was attached to the Irish Brigade, and Rev. Joseph Carrier, who was at the deathbed of General William Tecumseh Sherman’s son Willie.
At any earlier point in history, the Great Fire of 1879 may well have been the end for Notre Dame. However, just days after the fire, with most of campus destroyed, Scholastic writers reported, “we feel that there is no reason to give way to discouragement. No, we cannot bring ourselves to believe that the sun of Notre Dame has set. Let the thousands of loving children whom she has sent into the world within the past quarter of a century — let the devoted friends whom she counts in all parts of the country but rally to her relief, and we have every reason to feel confident that the good work which she has been doing in the past will be continued in the not distant future” [Scholastic, April 26, 1879 issue, page 536].
Father Sorin’s vision, faith, and determination was infectious. In an 1852 circular letter, Sorin reminisces about the first time he saw Notre Dame ten years earlier. His passion for Notre Dame, which he saw as divinely guided, and his dogged determination in its success is palpable:
“At that moment, one most memorable to me, a special consecration was made to the Blessed Mother of Jesus, not only of the land that was to be called by her very name, but also of the Institution that was to be founded there; –an humble offering was presented to her of its modest origin and its destiny, of its future trials and labors, its successes arid its joys. With my five Brothers and myself, I presented to the Blessed Virgin all those generous souls whom Heaven should be pleased to call around me on this spot, or who should come after me. From that moment I remember not a single instance of a serious doubt in my mind as to the final result of our exertions, unless, by our unfaithfulness, we should change the mercy from above into anger; and upon this consecration, which I thought accepted, I have rested ever since, firm and unshaken, as one surrounded on all sides by the furious waves of a stormy sea, but who feels himself planted immovably upon the motionless rock. Numerous as have been the dangers of all sorts to which we have been exposed, the obstacles and difficulties we have had to meet and overcome, the sufferings and crosses we have had to undergo, the various assaults and the persevering efforts of hell to destroy the Community in its infancy; though often annoyed by the ill-will of open foes without, and more than once betrayed by false friends within, I say it with a sentiment of deep gratitude, of every one of these trying occasions our Blessed Mother has invariably availed herself to show us her tender and powerful assistance.” [Sorin Circular letter, 12/08/1852]
On June 21, 1964, Soldier Field in Chicago played host to the Illinois Rally for Civil Rights. The principle speakers were Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., President and Founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, President of the University of Notre Dame.
The rally, whose operating costs reached $25,000, opened with two hours of jazz and gospel music and entertainment, including a 5000-voice choir led by gospel singer Mahalia Jackson. General admission was free, but priority seating was available for $2-5. Nearly 150 various organizations promoted the event, distributing 1.5 million flyers in Chicago, and brought their members to the rally by the bus-full. A crowd estimated of between 57,000-75,000 people of diverse walks of life, races, and faiths endured early rain and later sweltering heat in Soldier Field, standing in solidarity of racial equality.
Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh speaking at the Illinois Rally for Civil Rights in Chicago’s Soldier Field, 1964/0621
The Illinois Rally was somewhat anti-climatic as the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Bill was imminent – President Lyndon Johnson would sign the bill into law on July 2, 1964. Some were disappointed with the turnout, thinking that it was not as large as it could have or should have been (days before the event, the leaders had estimated the crowd could tip 100,000. The morning rain was blamed for the lower attendance). However, King said to the crowd, “We have come a long, long way in the civil rights struggle, but let me remind you that we have a long, long way to go. Passage of the civil rights bill does not mean that we have reached the promised land in civil rights.” He stressed that the bill alone was not enough – “vigorous enforcement” was essential to success.
Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh with Martin Luther King Jr., Rev. Edgar Chandler (far left), and Msgr. Robert J. Hagarty of Chicago (far right) at the Illinois Rally for Civil Rights in Chicago’s Soldier Field, 1964/0621.
Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh’s involvement in the national Civil Rights Movement dates back to November 7, 1957, when President Dwight Eisenhower named him to the newly formed Civil Rights Commission. Hesburgh, then 40, was the youngest of the six member-commission. Hesburgh would remain on the Civil Rights Commission until 1972.
At the Illinois Rally, Hesburgh echoed King’s sentiments that there was still work to do: “A long road and a hot summer are ahead of us. Every Negro American who does not use his opportunity now is a traitor to his race. Be proud to be a Negro. Demand respect by being worthy of respect. We want to strive for human dignity with you.”
At the time, the Illinois Rally was the second largest Civil Rights demonstration, after the 1963 March on Washington. While there was a small group of protesters outside of Soldier Field, the Illinois Rally was overall a peaceful and successful event.
For more information about the Illinois Rally, please see the following:
Chicago History Museum – Blog post and video about the Illinois Rally. The Chicago History Museum also has WGN newsreel of the Illinois Rally, but it is not available online at this time.
Notre Dame’s Memorial Library (renamed the Hesburgh Library in 1987) was formally dedicated on May 7, 1964. Its doors officially opened for student use in the fall of 1963, although the famous “Word of Life” mural wouldn’t be installed until the following spring.
Lemonnier Library (now called Bond Hall) was the previous library and opened in 1917 after having outgrown its space on the fifth floor of Main Building. A few decades later, rumblings for a new library could be heard on campus. On April 17, 1945, University President Rev. J. Hugh O’Donnell outlined the future of Notre Dame in his keynote speech to the Alumni Club of Chicago at Universal Notre Dame Night: “The need for a new library building also becomes more apparent every day. When it is built, the present structure will comfortably, but no more than comfortably, house the Wightman Memorial Art Gallery, the archives, and the museum” [Alumnus, June 1945, page 6].
In 1950, University Archivist Rev. Thomas McAvoy lamented the lack of space needed for the newly acquired General William Tecumseh Sherman Family Papers. Alumnus wrote, “Until a new library is built on the campus, and the present structure [Bond Hall] is turned into an art gallery and museum, students and visitors to the campus will be unable to view the collection of possessions and mementoes of the famed Civil War commander, since there is no room to exhibit it under present conditions” [Alumnus, March-April 1950, page 18].
Cover of the fundraising brochure for the Memorial Library (later renamed Hesburgh Library)
The idea for a new library wouldn’t become more concrete until University President Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh announced the Challenge fundraising campaign in 1958. Like his predecessors, Hesburgh had big dreams for Notre Dame. He had a grand vision for a large library that would continue to elevate Notre Dame as a premiere institute of higher learning. As with any ambitious building project, funds need to be raised and sites need to be considered. Some location options for the new Memorial Library included the razing of Main Building, a building long in need of repair and expansion. Another potential site was in between Sorin Hall and Bond Hall, but the site finally chosen was on the eastern outskirts of campus with anticipation of growth of the quad north of Notre Dame Stadium.
Detail of an architectural sketch of a proposed plaza and library on the site of Main Building, c1960
Ground was broken in the summer of 1961, after razing most of Vetville and Navy Drill Hall. Construction advanced rapidly and the 14-story building was topped out on April 3, 1962. Books were moved out of Lemonnier Library and Memorial Library was ready for occupancy on September 18, 1963.
Men (students?) moving the 475,000 books from Lemonnier Library (Bond Hall) to the new Hesburgh Memorial Library using 2000 Black Label Beer boxes, August 1963.
The last step in construction was to install the famous “Word of Life” mural, commonly known as “Touchdown Jesus.” Father Hesburgh recognized that a massive building with few windows needed ornamentation as a counterbalance. On a trip to Mexico, Hesburgh was inspired by iconography on the Central Library at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México in Mexico City. Notre Dame hired artist Millard Sheets to design a mural for the new Memorial Library with Christ the Teacher at the center, surrounded by prophets and scholars of the Catholic Church. As Hesburgh intended with the physical building, the mural united Church and education, a concept often at odds with modern secular scholars.
Construction of the Word of Life Mural for Memorial Library (later Hesburgh Library), c1962. Workers, including Mrs. Hertel, are comparing the cast panels to colors per stone samples.
The mural consists of over 6000 pieces of granite in a multitude different colors and textures found in quarries around the world. The pieces were cut and assembled at the Cold Spring Granite Company in Minnesota. The mural itself is not attached directly to the building, but floats in front of it. There is a bit of space in between to allow for the expansion and contraction of materials during weather changes. During installation, tarps covered the work so that the mural would not be seen until complete. The strong winds of Northern Indiana did not always comply and allowed visitors to peek through the blowing tarps to the artwork underneath.
The Memorial Library Dedication ceremonies in May 1964, were filled with all the traditional Notre Dame pomp and circumstance. On May 6, Eugene Cardinal Tisserant, Dean of the Sacred College of Cardinals and Prefect of the Vatican Library, celebrated Solemn Pontifical Mass on Library Quad, and Albert Cardinal Meyer, Archbishop of Chicago, said the homily. The third Cardinal in attendance was Joseph Cardinal Ritter, Archbishop of Saint Louis, who blessed Memorial Library on May 7th. As noted in Notre Dame, “Presidents of 15 college and universities, ranging from Princeton in the East to California in the West, were among 25 celebrated figures who received honorary degrees from Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, Notre Dame’s president at the convocation” [1964 Special Issue, page 3].
Memorial Library Dedication – An ROTC color guard in front of the Library, 1964/0507.
A salutation from Pope Paul VI read at the dedication declares, “We gladly send you Our greetings and felicitations on the dedication of the new Memorial Library at Notre Dame. We pray that this additional repository of wisdom and knowledge may serve as a valuable instrument in the pursuit of truth and the defense and development of faith. It will undoubtedly enhance the prestige of the University, and increase its efficiency in the academic mission so highly praised by Our illustrious Predecessor, Benedict XV. … Rejoicing, therefore, on the inauguration of the new Memorial Library, and praying that it will contribute richly to the advancement of truth, We invoke upon the University of Notre Dame an abundance of illuminating divine graces; and in pledge, thereof, We lovingly bestow upon you, beloved son, and impart to the professors, students and personnel, Our particular paternal Apostolic Blessing” [quoted from Notre Dame, 1964 special issue, page 2].
Memorial Library Dedication – Ceremonies on Library Quad, view from above, 1964/0507.
Wednesday, April 23, 1879, started out as any other spring day at Notre Dame. Taking advantage of the warm day, the Minims were out on their play yard. Around 10:00am, they were the first to notice the smoke rising from the Main Building and sounded the alarm — “College on fire!” Notification was sent to South Bend and a fire engine was dispatched to Notre Dame, but it arrived too late to save five of the campus buildings that were quickly consumed. Despite several devastating fires in her past, Notre Dame was ill-prepared for such a large fire. Even though the Main Building was equipped with water tanks, they proved futile on this fateful day.
Feature of the Second Main Building fire published in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, May 24, 1879. This image contains couple of inaccuracies: The first Sacred Heart Church was replaced by the current Basilica of the Sacred Heart, which was blessed on August 15, 1875. Also, the winds from the west would have blown the fire in the other direction. The editors of Scholastic noticed the error as well. In the 05/24/1879 issue, page 579, they noted: “Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper of May 24 contains a well-written notice of the burning of Notre Dame, accompanied by a striking illustration. How the engraver succeeded in uniting the old Church, and the surroundings of twenty years since, with the lately destroyed College building, and yet produced so satisfactory a picture we can hardly understand. It is a case in which the imagination of the artist has happily supplied the absence of actual knowledge. We understand that the engraved plate has been sent for.”
The origins of the fire are uncertain, but many theories point to construction work being done on the pitch roof of Main Building. As soon as the fire was discovered, students, faculty, and local townspeople scrambled to form a long bucket brigade up the six floors of the building. Many others desperately tried to save the precious library books, museum artifacts, scientific instruments, furniture, and personal effects. They carried many items carefully out of the buildings. However, in the chaos, some people frantically flung things out of the windows, destroying them from the fall in an attempt to save them. Once the wooden supports of the dome gave way, sending the one ton Mary statue plummeting through the center of the building, all chances for further recovery were abandoned. The western winds spread the fire from Main Building, additionally destroying the infirmary, St. Francis Old Men’s Home, Music Hall, and the Minims’ Hall. Fortunately, Sacred Heart Church (designated a Basilica in 1992) and Luigi Gregori’s murals were spared, as were the Presbytery, the printing presses (home of Ave Maria and Scholastic in what is now Brownson Hall), the kitchens, the steam house, and the first Washington Hall (the current one was dedicated in 1882).
The fire raged for only a few hours and was relatively under control by evening. The South Bend fire engine remained on watch for any flare-ups. Miraculously, there were no fatalities and only a few injuries – student PJ Dougherty either jumped or fell from the third story and recovered quickly in a few days. Others narrowly escaped falling debris that could have been deadly. Main Quad was strewn with items that were salvaged from the burning buildings. In all, there was over $200,000 worth of damage, including 25,000 books, 17 pianos and other musical instruments, many valuable scientific specimens, and irreplaceable historical artifacts. Insurance only covered about $45,000.
[photoshelter-img i_id=”I0000mB2wWapbs1A” buy=”1″ caption=”Engraving of campus with the Basilica of the Sacred Heart and Second Main Building before the fire, c1870s” width=”600″ height=”432″]
At 3:00pm, the administration and faculty convened to map out a game-plan for the immediate future of Notre Dame. They decided that the school year should terminate early. They began making arrangements to send the grief-stricken students home and confer degrees early, but no one believed this was the end for Notre Dame. University President Rev. William Corby decided immediately that the University would rebuild and would be ready to accept students at the normal opening day in September. Scholastic writers echoed, “we feel that there is no reason to give way to discouragement. No, we cannot bring ourselves to believe that the sun of Notre Dame has set. Let the thousands of loving children whom she has sent into the world within the past quarter of a century — let the devoted friends whom she counts in all parts of the country but rally to her relief, and we have every reason to feel confident that the good work which she has been doing in the past will be continued in the not distant future” [Scholastic, April 26, 1879 issue, page 536].
A series of stereoscope views of the Second Main Building and the April 23, 1879, fire aftermath. Photos by James Bonney.
Rev. Edward Sorin, founder of the University, was in Montreal at the time of the fire, about to embark on his 36th transatlantic voyage. A telegram was dispatched to intercept him, although some feared the physical effects of an aging Sorin receiving the news. Professor James Edwards left South Bend for Montreal to tell the Superior General his first-hand account in person. Both of them returned to Notre Dame on Sunday, April 27th. That Sunday morning, thousands of students, faculty, and townspeople packed the Basilica of the Sacred Heart as Sorin preached “Lessons of the Fire,” in which he told them “If it were all gone, I should not give up.” Professor Timothy Howard recalled many years later that they were “the most sublime words I have ever listened to” (X-4-e, April 14, 1906).
What might have led other American institutions at the time to fold seemed to only embolden the Notre Dame spirit: “Yes, Notre Dame will be herself again in a few months with God’s help, the untiring toil of her children, and the aid of her generous friends who have never failed her in her hour of need. … Notre Dame has so grown into the life of the country that it cannot but live and flourish, notwithstanding the fire. Like a vigorous tree which has been burned to the ground, the life is still strong in the great heart beneath, and it will spring from its ashes more glorious and beautiful than ever.” [Scholastic, April 26, 1879 issue, page 534].
Once he returned to campus and surveyed the damage, Fr. Sorin seemed to spring back to his youth, determined more than ever to rebuild Notre Dame into a grander university. There was much work to be done and everyone pitched in as they could. Scholastic noted that Sorin could “wheel off a load of bricks with great grace and dignity” [May 10, 1879 issue, page 546]. Three weeks after the fire, the debris pile still smoldered and smoked. Visitors from all over came to see the ruins for themselves.
View of Notre Dame campus destroyed by fire, accompanying a letter by Rev. Edward Sorin soliciting donations in France to rebuild Notre Dame after the fire, c1879-1880. Engraving by Fernique published in “Annales de Saint-Joseph” of the College de Sainte-Croix, Neuilly, France.
News of the tragedy quickly spread across the country and into Europe. Letters and telegrams of support and promises of financial aid poured in. Notre Dame administrators, faculty, alumni, and benefactors immediately hit the bricks in raising funds to rebuild. Fortunately, their strong networks helped to make the rebuilding of Notre Dame a quick reality. Rev. John Zahm solicited specimens for his Museum of Natural History. James Edwards solicited books for the Lemonnier Library. Sorin solicited funds across the country and in Europe.
On May 4, 1879, Fr. Sorin blessed the cornerstone for the new Main Building, even though official architectural plans were still under consideration. By mid-May Chicago architect Willoughby Edbrooke was hired out of many architects who submitted their work in the nationwide competition. Hundreds of laborers descended on campus and construction worked at a fast pace. More than 4,300,000 bricks, mostly made from the marl in the lakes, needed to be laid by September. Sorin figured construction cost $1000-1500 a day and the lack of insurance already put them far behind. However, Sorin’s complete faith in Divine Providence never faltered. He noted to Sister Columba, “our catastrophe, so sudden and so unexpected and so terrible, has been seen as a loss to the whole country, and the American people have marvelously helped us to reverse it” [quoted in O’Connell, page 656].
[photoshelter-img i_id=”I0000abLeGWAmA2c” buy=”1″ caption=”The New Notre Dame – Engraving of Main Building exterior, 1879.” width=”600″ height=”478″]
The core of Main Building was complete for the opening school term in September 1879. Four months earlier, Notre Dame was regarded as one of the largest and one of the best educational institutions in America, particularly in the West. The tragic fire helped bring more national attention to Notre Dame. The physical edifices of the “New Notre Dame” indeed were larger, more ornate, and more modern than their predecessors. Main Building and her Golden Dome stand today as a testament to the dreams, ambition, determination, hard work, and faith of our forefathers to build one of the greatest universities in the world.
Exterior view of Main Building III under construction, without the Dome and with rolls of sod, c1879.
In the early 1880s, the Notre Dame faculty and administration were discussing a way to engage American Catholic lay men and women with the hierarchy of the Church. University President Rev. Thomas Walsh, Rev. Edward Sorin, and Professor James Edwards decided that Notre Dame should bestow a medal of honor each year on an American lay Catholic member, preferably a college-educated “man of letters,” in similar fashion as the Vatican’s Golden Rose. The Laetare Medal quickly became not only the highest honor Notre Dame bestows, but also the highest honor American Catholics can receive.
As the medal was initially presented on Laetare Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Lent, the medal was known as the Laetare Medal. Notre Dame administrators or a delegate usually presented the medal to the recipient away from campus. As time grew on, the presentations floated further away from Laetare Sunday to accommodate the recipient’s schedule, but the announcement is still made on Laetare Sunday.
Front side of the Laetare Medal given to Albert Zahm in 1925. Astronaut James Wetherbee (Class of 1974) carried this medal with him on his first flight into space aboard the Columbia space shuttle in 1990.
John Gilmary Shea was the first recipient of the Laetare Medal in 1883. Artist Eliza Allen Starr, dear friend of Rev. Edward Sorin, was the third recipient of the Laetare Medal and the first female recipient in 1885. Edward Pruess accepted the 1887 medal under anonymity, not wanting public honors. It wasn’t until after his death that his name was added to the honor roll.
In the early years, an illustrative announcement accompanied the medal. This practice ended in 1908 on the Silver Jubilee of the Laetare Medal. Each medal has a unique design, reflecting an important aspect of the recipient’s life. For example, aviation pioneer Albert Zahm’s (Class of 1883) medal features an airplane and the Golden Dome (see above) while President John F. Kennedy’s medal features the Presidential Seal of the United States.
Laetare Medal certificate to James Charles Monaghan, 1908. Artwork by Howard Darnell of Philadelphia.
For decades, Notre Dame administrators, usually accompanied by the local bishop or other Catholic hierarchy, would bring the medal to the recipient. Usually the ceremony was simple, but other times it was a lavish affair. In 1911, former Notre Dame professor Maurice Francis Egan, who was then service as the United States Ambassador to Denmark, was awarded the Laetare Medal. Notre Dame invited dozens of dignitaries, including cabinet members, congressmen, high-ranking military officials, and foreign ambassadors to the presentation ceremony.
In 1918, Los Angeles Bishop John Cantwell spoke to a packed crowd in the Shrine Auditorium on the occasion of the Laetare Medal presentation to attorney Joseph Scott:
“This distinguished assemblage of citizens is unique among civic gatherings. We come together this evening to witness an academic act of a university whose center is far from here, but whose range of activity is confined only by the continent. … When the University of Notre Dame confers the Laetare Medal this evening, it is the witness of a great university to the superb character of Mr. Joseph Scott.”
[“Joseph Scott Receives the Laetare Medal,” The Tidings, February 28, 1919; CJWC 14/22]
For the Golden Jubilee of the medal in 1933, the presentation was held at Notre Dame’s Commencement. All living medalists were invited and among those who returned to campus to speak were Margaret Anglin, Al Smith, and Dr. James J. Walsh.
Rev. Edmund Joyce, CSC, and Rev. Theodore Hesburgh, CSC, presenting President John F. Kennedy with the Laetare Medal in the White House, 1961/1122.
In 1968, the Notre Dame search committee opened up the requirements of Laetare Medalists to include clergy, not just lay people. The first religious Laetare Medalist was Rev. John O’Brien, a Notre Dame faculty member and popular author. Notre Dame has also awarded the Laetare Medal jointly to married couples and groups.
By the 1970s, the presentation of the Laetare Medal became a regular part of Commencement Exercises, and the medal recipient is one of the principle speakers. In 2006, Laetare Medalist jazz musician Dave Brubeck also graced the audience with a performance of “Travelin’ Blues” (see video below). In 2009, Mary Ann Gleason declined the Laetare Medal in protest to Notre Dame’s decision to name President Barack Obama as Commencement speaker and award him an honorary degree.
Commencement – Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh, CSC, presenting Helen Hayes with the Laetare Medal, 1979/0520.
For the centennial of the Laetare Medal in 1983, University President Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh admitted,
“there was serious discussion whether the University should continue to make the annual award. After all, with twenty-one Catholic members of the United States Senate, we are hardly an immigrant minority; we have entered the mainstream. But the consensus was that our nation will always need – and it will be salutary to recognize – the kind of men and women who have worn the Laetare Medal, persons of excellence and faith who exemplify best what it means to be both American and Catholic. For this reason, I suspect that there will be a Laetare Medal as long as there is a Notre Dame”
[Laetare Medal Centennial: 1883-1983, PNDP 40-La-01].
![GPHR 45/4645: Architectural sketch of Lewis Hall exterior, c1962. Drawing by Ellerbe Architects. [copy negative]](http://www.archives.nd.edu/about/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/GPHR-45-4645.jpg)
![Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh - priest - holding up a chalice during Mass in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, 1961. Photo by Paul Fusco, LOOK Magazine [this photo was published in LOOK Magazine, 10/24/1961. The original negatives for this story are at the Library of Congress and may be in the public domain. See LOC rights advisory for more information].](http://www.archives.nd.edu/about/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/GNDL-41-18-03.jpg)
