The 1916 Streetcar Incident

At the beginning of the 20th century, Notre Dame students, faculty, and administrators would often grumble about the Hill Street Car:  overcrowding, aging equipment, erratic timetables, and rude conductors.  The streetcar operators often complained of the students:  overcrowding the cars, not paying fares, and playing pranks.  In early February 1916, it all came to a head.

A group of students climbing onto a streetcar on Main Quad, 1907/0914. Caption:  "Meeting the First Car, September 14, 1907"
Dome yearbook 1908:  A group of students climbing onto a streetcar on Main Quad, 1907/0914.
Caption: “Meeting the First Car, September 14, 1907”

Contemporary accounts vary on the details, but the following is a general outline of the incident:  On the afternoon of February 3, 1916, a group of Notre Dame preparatory students locked the door on the conductor to prevent him from collecting fares.  The motorman heard the commotion and asked a Carroll Hall (Main Building) preparatory student, who was about 15 years old, to pay his fare.  As the student had already paid and wasn’t going to pay twice, he began to argue with the already irritated motorman.  The motorman hit the boy with an iron switch hook and a collegiate student on board defended the younger student by hitting the motorman in the jaw.

Cartoon drawing depicting streetcar employees fighting with students, February 1916.
Dome yearbook 1916:  Cartoon drawing depicting streetcar employees fighting with students, February 1916.

That evening, the streetcar company added a few burly men to the line, presumably as a means of security.  From the students’ point of view, these “hired thugs” were there to exact vengeance.  On the way back to Notre Dame after a night downtown, a few Carrollites lit up cigars after the last woman disembarked the streetcar.  While technically against the rules, this custom of smoking among passengers and employees had been honored for years, so long as no women were on board and the car was outside of city limits.  However, this was enough for the streetcar muscle to bring the transgression to fisticuffs.  One student reported that there were eight thugs, armed with revolvers and clubs, who took on teenage preparatory students.
For the next few days, throngs of Notre Dame students packed the cars, looking for the men who beat up their fellow classmates.  By Sunday, February 6, the students hadn’t found the culprits, so they decided to take vengeance on the car itself.  A group of students hijacked a streetcar near Cedar Grove Cemetery on Notre Dame Avenue.  They told the conductor and motorman to get off the car; and once it was empty, the crowd of about 150 students took to destroying the car and eventually setting it on fire.

Dome yearbook 1916, page 320:  Cartoon drawing of student burning the Hill Street car, 1916/0206
Dome yearbook 1916: Cartoon drawing of student burning the Hill Street car, 1916/0206

University President John W. Cavanaugh and a few other priests happened to return to campus via automobile around 11 p.m. to find the Hill Street car surrounded by students.  Cavanaugh recounts to Rev. John Talbot Smith that “a short distance from Egan’s we espied an immovable car gorgeously lighted and surrounded by a multitude of very happy students.  As we approached, the boys, thinking we were the plug-uglies sent out to take care of the situation, fastened on us like hungry wolves, commanding the machine [automobile] to stop.  Opening the door, I stepped lightly out and stood in the midst of them.  Curtain; likewise curses.  Oh, how those poor boys besought me to go on and not interfere with their labors!” [PNDP 30-St-16].

The Hill Street car on fire, 1916/0206.
The Hill Street car on fire, 1916/0206.

Father Cavanaugh told the boys to go back to their dorms and leave the streetcar alone.  As things settled down and students started to disperse, Cavanaugh then continued on to the University by automobile; and once out of sight, the students continued on with their bonfire.  Cavanaugh wrote, “I never thought to glance backward until I arrived at the University, when I found to my intense surprise that the students, seeing me pass by them with such child-like faith and innocence, had turned back and wrought their zeal upon the trolley.  It made a beautiful fire and was the talk of the town and the subject of editorials, I regret to say, in many cities” [PNDP -30-St-16].

Students gathered around the burned out Hill Street car, February 1916.
Students gathered around the burned out Hill Street car, February 1916.

The South Bend fire department arrived on the scene, but high winds made it impossible to save the car.  Police officers also responded to the situation, but only went as far as the city limits and no arrests were made.  Tensions between Notre Dame and the car company were high for days in the aftermath of the fire.  A mass meeting of the students was held in the Fieldhouse regarding the incident.  Many, including the student body president, spoke against the destruction of the streetcar company.  The streetcar company demanded that Notre Dame pay thousands of dollars for the damaged car.  With both sides at serious fault, neither side pressed charges.  The students had an advantage in that they could positively identify the “thugs,” but no student could be identified as the arsonists.  The students, not the University, were ultimately liable for the property damage.

The burned out remains of the Hill Street car, February 1916
The burned out remains of the Hill Street car, after the students scavenged the wreck for souvenirs, February 1916

While many expected mass expulsions, Father Cavanaugh defended the Notre Dame students while also condemning their lawlessness.  While usually severe in punishment on seemingly lighter situations, Cavanaugh felt that the students’ actions were inevitable after such provocations and that the students were right to seek justice, even though it be misguided and unlawful.

Officials from Notre Dame and the streetcar company met a few days after the fire to draw a truce.  Both sides regretted the incident and vowed to work together to prevent such a disastrous breaking point.  The student body agreed to behave in a civil manner, so long as the streetcar employees maintained a similar manner.  The streetcar company also agreed to provide better service and newer equipment on one of its most profitable lines.  Streetcar service to Notre Dame resumed shortly thereafter with no other notable incidents.  Streetcars service in Michiana ended on June 15, 1940, when the line was replaced by a more economical bus line.

 

Sources:
Scholastic
Dome yearbook
Notre Dame:  One Hundred Years by Rev. Arthur J. Hope
CNDS 7/29
PNDP 04-Di-01
PNDP 30-St-16
GKLI 2/17-20
GMIL 1/06

 

Sunny Italy Cafe

“You can’t call yourself a true son of Notre Dame, unless you’ve hopped off the bus at the end of South Bend Ave. on a freezing  winter night, made your way across Hill Street to the shadowy, little alley that leads down over sand and snow to Niles Avenue, and finally found yourself at the friendly doors of the Sunny Italy Cafe — known more affectionately to the student trade as Rosie’s.”
Scholastic, 10/15/1948, page 18

Sunny Italy Cafe at 601 North Niles Avenue in South Bend was originally called the North Niles Avenue Cafe when it opened in 1926.  Two Notre Dame students found the hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant in the early 1930s, became regulars, and befriended the owners Tony and Rosie Vumbaca.  The students nicknamed the place “Rosie’s” and spread the word to their friends.  Before long, Rosie’s was the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights.  By the 1940s, between 100-500 Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s students would dine at Rosie’s on Friday night.

People dining at Rosie's Sunny Italy Cafe restaurant, 1946.
The crowd at Sunny Italy Cafe, 1946.

Jimmy and Josie Bamber bought Rosie’s in 1940.  While they renamed it Sunny Italy Cafe, the nickname “Rosie’s” stuck with the students, faculty, and alumni for decades to come.  The popularity of the restaurant enabled the Bambers to renovate their restaurant in 1947, expanding the dining room to seat 150 customers.  They catered to the Notre Dame students, staying open late on movie nights and offering lunch and dinner specials (65¢ and 85¢, respectively in 1948).

The typical long lines to get a table at Sunny Italy, 1948.
The typical long lines to get a table at Sunny Italy Cafe, 1948.

An obvious choice for Italian Club meetings, Sunny Italy also hosted many other student organization meetings and banquets.  In 1955, the Academy of Political Science sponsored a banquet with Paul Butler, chairman of the Democratic National Committee, as speaker.  In 1961, Republican Congressman Melvin E. Laird of Marshfield, Wisconsin, spoke at the Young Republican Spring Banquet.

People dining at Sunny Italy, 1948.
The packed dining room at Sunny Italy Cafe, 1948.

In 1976, Scholastic reported that Notre Dame students made up 40% of Sunny Italy’s business.  However, by this time, the tradition of students going to Rosie’s en masse began to wane.  Today, Sunny Italy is still in its same location on Niles Avenue and is run by the same family all these years later.

Kitchen staff at Sunny Italy Cafe, 1948.
Kitchen staff and waitresses at Sunny Italy Cafe, 1948.
Dome yearbook 1941:  Feature on a typical Friday night at Rosie's
Dome yearbook 1941: Feature on a typical Friday night at Rosie’s


Sources
:Scholastic
Dome yearbook
Sunny Italy Cafe: About Us

 

The Traveling Father Sorin Statue

In the lobby of Sorin Hall stands a bronze statue of Father Edward Sorin.  Sculpted by Ernesto Biondi, the larger version of this statue greets visitors on Main Quad and was unveiled on May 3, 1906.  Left in the care of the Sorinites, who are no strangers to college pranks, the smaller statue had taken to wandering off by the early 1950s.

Sorin Hall residents carrying the statue of Father Sorin through campus, November 1962.  The statue had just returned to campus after a lengthy disappearance.
Sorin Hall residents carrying the statue of Father Sorin through campus, November 1962. The statue had just returned to campus via a helicopter after a traditional disappearance.

In January 1953, Scholastic reports that the statue had gone missing just before the Christmas break and that the Student Senate resolved to find the statue.  “Although traditionally a wanderer on the ND campus, Father Sorin’s present disappearance has lasted so long that concern is arising that it may be a permanent one” [Scholastic issue 01/16/1953, page 13].  Shortly thereafter, postcards and letters began coming in from the statue from destinations far and wide.  In some, Sorin claimed to have attended some of the year’s most important events such as Dwight Eisenhower’s Inauguration, Queen Elizabeth II’s Coronation, and Josef Stalin’s funeral.  The mystery persisted and the culprits did not crack.  Just before Commencement 1953, the statue arrived at Main Circle in a cab to a cheering crowd.

Alumnus Camillus Witzieben later admitted to being the culprit, along with the help from a few friends.  Witzieben was a resident of Alumni Hall and found the statue in the snow as he dropped Christmas cards off at the post office (now the Knights of Columbus Building).  In stead of returning the statue to Sorin Hall, Witzieben and friend August Manier decided to extend the statue’s travels.  They buried the statue in a sand trap on the Burke Memorial Golf Course south of Alumni and Dillon Halls and later moved it to Manier’s girlfriend’s house in Chicago until its triumphant return.  In the meantime, their military friends sent the postcards from a variety of destinations around the world.

In 1955, Sorin’s “annual trip” was to the Kentucky Derby.  He sent a telegram to Notre Dame saying “that he ‘lost it all on Nashua’ and was ‘returning home’ that night at 8 o’clock.”  Sorin Hall Rector Father Cady was a good sport as the statue returned once again by car to Main Circle:  “the loud-speaker blared forth such appropriate tunes as ‘My Baby’s Comin’ Home,’ ‘Happy Wanderer,’ ‘Take Me Back,’ and ‘Dragnet.’  Father Cady, rector of Sorin, signified his approval of the whole affair with a request for ‘The Finger of Suspicion Points at You‘” [Scholastic issue 05/13/1955, page 16].

While the statue probably never went further than a Chicago basement, the fabled journeys of Fr. Sorin took a life of their own:  “I’d heard stories of seniors who took the statue around the world with them and sent back pictures of Sorin posed beside European landmarks, such as the Leaning Tower of Pisa and the Tower of London.  I’d heard he’d even had an audience with the Pope, and that he’d returned of the back of an elephant,” said alumnus Pat Williams, Class of 1963, in a 1984 Notre Dame Magazine article.  No doubt that Williams heard some tall tales, but he was inspired to be a part of this kidnapping tradition and Sorin inevitably went missing again in the fall of 1962.  Sorin’s return during Homecoming Weekend was the most elaborate of all:  dangling from a helicopter and met by Sorinites in togas and chariots (see photo above).

Williams admits to taking the statue with him to South Carolina after graduation.  He then transferred the statue to fellow alumnus Gene McGuire in 1966, who took it home with him to Denver.  Rev. James Burtchaell heard of Sorin’s whereabouts and demanded his return to campus.  McGuire conceded, and Burtchaell secured the statue in 1972 and held onto it for ten years, while rumors and stories about the statue continued to float among the students.  Sorin Hall rector Rev. David Porterfield learned of the statue in Burtachell’s possession.  Porterfield wanted it returned to Sorin Hall, but both he and Burtachell worried about continued antics of the Sorinites.  During the hall renovations of 1983, Porterfield came up with a fool-proof solution:  “workmen filled the hollow statue with concrete and connected it to a solid wooden base with steel rods.  The rods were the soldered to the floor in Sorin’s main corridor, where the legend began so many years ago” [Peralta, page 10].

Sources:

  • Scholastic
  • Dome yearbook 1963
  • PNDP 10-So-01
  • PNDP 109-Phil:  “The Father Sorin Caper,” by Camillus Witzieben in Love Thee, Notre Dame, published by the Notre Dame Club of Philadelphia, 1987
  • “The Pilgrim Founder: ‘Father Sorin’ returns to campus after three decades of touring,” by Elizabeth Peralta, Notre Dame Magazine, Late Winter 1984, pages 9-10

 

Notre Dame vs. Alabama

Before the 2012 Championship Game held on January 7, 2013, the Notre Dame and Alabama football teams have met six times:  1973 Sugar Bowl, 1974 Orange Bowl, 1976 at Notre Dame, 1980 and 1986 at Birmingham, and 1987 at Notre Dame.  Of the six meetings, Notre Dame dominates the series 5-1, dropping only the 1986 game.

For the 1976 and 1987 home games, the Notre Dame students kept up the long tradition of banners showing their support for the Irish.

Football Game Day - Notre Dame vs. Alabama, November 1976.  A banner sign hanging between Grace and Flanner Halls that reads "Beat 'Bama."
Football Game Day – Notre Dame vs. Alabama, November 1976.
A banner hanging between Grace and Flanner Halls that reads “Beat ‘Bama.”
A banner hanging from Pasquerilla Hall East that reads "Tide may work in hot but the Irish work in all temperatures," regarding the Notre Dame vs. Alabama football game, 1987.Caption:  "A Sign of Pride.  As Pasquerilla East shows, the Fighting Irish spirit is evidenced all over our campus, not just in the football stadium."
Football Game Day – Notre Dame vs. Alabama, 1987.
A banner hanging from Pasquerilla Hall East that reads “Tide may work in hot but the Irish work in all temperatures.”
Caption: “A Sign of Pride. As Pasquerilla East shows, the Fighting Irish spirit is evidenced all over our campus, not just in the football stadium.”

 

In first meeting of these two football titans, Notre Dame, ranked #3, faced a #1 Alabama team in the 1973 Sugar Bowl with the title on the line, a scenario echoed in the 2013 Championship Game.  In 1973, the two teams were well matched and the game was hard fought, coming down to the final minutes.  In the middle of the fourth quarter, Alabama scored a touchdown to take the lead, but missed the point-after attempt, which would come back to haunt them.  Notre Dame responded with a field goal to go ahead by one point.  With a few minutes left on the clock, an Alabama punt pinned the Irish back to the one-yard line, a defensive dream position to potentially set up a final opportunity for the Tide to retake the lead.  On third and eight and backed up against the end zone, Notre Dame quarterback Tom Clements found backup tight end Robin Weber wide open.  Weber caught his only pass of the season from Clements for a gain of 35 yards.  With a fresh set of downs, the Irish was able to run out the clock out, securing the 24-23 win and the National Championship Title.

Four students standing outside in winter with snow with a banner with a drawing of the Leprechaun and text that reads "Oh Alabama, don't you cry on me, the Irish'll roll the Crimson Tide way back to No. [number] 3" in regards to the 1973 Sugar Bowl football game, December 1973.
Four students standing outside in winter with snow with a banner with a drawing of the Leprechaun and text that reads “Oh Alabama, don’t you cry on me, the Irish’ll roll the Crimson Tide way back to No. 3” in regards to the 1973 Sugar Bowl football game, December 1973.
Football Game Scene - ND vs. Alabama, Sugar Bowl, 1973/1231.  Coaching legends Bear Bryant (Alabama) and Ara Parseghian (Notre Dame) talking on the sidelines.
Football Game Scene – Notre Dame vs. Alabama, Sugar Bowl, 1973/1231.
Coaching legends Bear Bryant (Alabama, left) and Ara Parseghian (Notre Dame, right) talking on the sidelines.

 

Sources:
Notre Dame Football Media Guide 2012
, Notre Dame Athletic Department
The Fighting Irish Football Encyclopedia, Michael R. Steele
“Irish Edge Tide for National Championship,” Notre Dame Athletic Department
“Epic Battle of Opposites: Irish vs. Tide in 1973,” Bill Pennington, NY Times, 12/08/2012
GDOM 9/60B
GDOM 1987 (uncataloged)
GDOM 11/02F
GRMD 11/04

 

Rev. Edward Sorin Lost at Sea

On a beautiful November 13, 1875, the steamship L’Amerique left New York and set sail for Le Havre, France.  Aboard were Rev. Edward Sorin, making one of his many journeys between America and Europe, and Catholic artist Miss Eliza Allen Starr.  They were supposed to arrive on November 23, but their plans took a great detour.

Around 3:30am on Sunday, November 21, 1875, the shaft of the L’Amerique broke and left her stranded near the Scilly Islands in the Celtic Sea.  The nearby Royal Mail Steamship China was able to take on a few of L’Amerique’s passengers and cargo, but many stayed behind.  November 23rd newspaper reports claimed that L’Amerique was proceeding under sail for Havre, all well” [The Patterson Weekly Press, November 25, 1875].  Scholastic reported similar news, not knowing yet that L’Amerique and many of her passengers were still stranded, although not sinking.

Father Sorin and Miss Starr were among the passengers left behind on the disabled steamer.  They hoped a rescue ship would come by that Friday.  The week’s weather was beautiful and calm:  “On Friday evening the ship seemed actually to stand on a sea of glass, so profound was the calm.  The sounds on board were as peaceful and domestic as those of a country-house.  In fact the stillness was so deep as to be solemn, and almost oppressive; for no ship had come, as we had so confidently expected” [Starr, “Pilgrims and Shrines”].  Then the weather turned and the sea became rough.

A German rescue boat finally found L’Amerique on Tuesday, November 29th.  However, “the roughness of the sea and the darkness preclude all thoughts of a transfer. She could only take our dispatches to Southampton, and go on her way” [Starr].  While the weather once again cleared, no ships arrived to the rescue.  Fortunately, there were enough provisions on board to sustain the crew and passengers the extra week at sea.  However, thoughts of not being rescued lingered in the minds of Starr and Sorin.  They were comforted by prayer and both vowed to keep the devotion of a Thousand Hail Marys.

On Sunday December 5th, L’Amerique was approached by a group of fishermen from Newfoundland.  Unfortunately, their boats were not capable of rescuing the steamer.  L’Amerique had no means of communication and they could only hope that a passing steamer would find them before it was too late.  Back home, the Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s students worried greatly:  “The non-arrival of the ‘Amerique’ causes great anxiety—
Telegraphic reports from Paris and London describe the ‘Amerique’ as going slowly but surely to the destined port.  But though these reports allay any extreme fears for the safety of our Venerated Very Rev. Father Sorin, and the other dear friends on board—still, the suspense and anxiety will be very painful till certain tidings of the safety of her passengers reach us” [Scholastic, 12/11/1875].

The Ville de Brest had gone in search of the incapacitated L’Amerique on November 24 and finally spotted her on December 5th and approached closer at midnight.  The weather and rough seas prevented a rescue for another week.  On December 12th, the crew of the Ville de Brest transferred the ninety passengers from L’Amerique and towed the disabled steamer back to Ireland.

Father Edward Sorin (in the center with the long, white beard and black cassock), Miss Eliza Allen Starr, and other passengers being transferred to the Ville de Brest, the steamer sent out by the French Transatlantic Steamship Company, which save passengers from the disabled steamer L’Amerique and which towed her into Queenstown harbor, and thence to Havre, 1875.

Father Sorin wrote to Scholastic about the ordeal and said that during the transfer to the Ville de Brest Miss Starr “went down bravely enough half the length of the rope ladder along the side of the big boat, but when she reached the lower boat I could see she was still alive by the sign of the cross she was making and repeating.  Ah! she is a Christian woman” [Scholastic, 01/08/1876].

After the Ville de Brest rescued L’Amerique, the continued storms prevented a swift return to port.  They wouldn’t arrive safely at Queenstown harbor until December 18, 1875, nearly three and a half weeks after their original anticipated arrival date in Le Havre.  Ville de Brest then took the passengers to Le Havre through more storms.  From there, the travelers took the train to Paris, arriving on Christmas Day.  They went to Mass at Notre Dame des Victoires, where prayers and Masses had been said for weeks earlier for their safe rescue.

In January of 1876, Fr. Sorin commissioned artist Luigi Gregori to paint a mural in the newly built Church of the Sacred Heart (now the Basilica) in thanksgiving of his rescue.  The mural depicted Christ walking on water with Saint Peter sinking below the waves while the other apostles remain in the boat.  Unfortunately, the murals on the southern wall on either side of the organ were painted over sometime between 1951 and 1977.

 

Sources:
Scholastic
“A Memorable Voyage” by Miss Eliza Allen Starr from “Pilgrims and Shrines,” as reprinted in Scholastic issues 01/31/1885 and 02/07/1885
Accident to the Amerique,” The Patterson Weekly Press, 11/25/1875

 

Decoration Weekend

A lot of hoopla surrounded Football Homecoming during the 1920s through the 1960s.  Events for the weekend usually included alumni reunions, a dance, a pep rally and bonfire, a parade, and hall decorations.  The decorations were often elaborate, constructed solely by students on a very limited budget.  A healthy dose of competition with trophies hanging in the balance added to the excitement of the hall decorations.

Some years had a theme, such as “The Spirit of ’76” was used in 1964, celebrating 76 years of Notre Dame football.  Often, the themes revolved around the opponent for the Homecoming game, such as “Wreck Tech” when Notre Dame played Georgia Tech in 1953.  Below are some examples of Homecoming decorations through the years:

Students putting up decorations on Badin Hall for Football Homecoming Weekend, c1930s.
The decorations feature a drawing of coach Elmer Layden and text that reads “Notre Dame Fights.”

 

Football Game Week – Students constructing hall decorations for Morrissey and Lyons Halls for Homecoming, 1957

 

Football Game Day decorations on Sorin Hall with banners that read
“We Got Army’s Ass, Now We’ll Get Navy’s Goat,” 1965.

 

Students constructing a Leprechaun figure on South Quad for
Homecoming decorations, 1965. Below is the finished product.

 

Football Game Day decoration of a large Leprechaun on South Quad,
smashing a shillelagh through a Navy battleship, 1965.

 

Sources:
Scholastic

Dome yearbook
GBBY 45F/4958
GNDS 23/18-19
GPUB 47/62

 

The Lilacs

On the corner of Notre Dame Avenue and Napoleon Boulevard stands an old yellow-bricked house.  Located at 1136 N. Notre Dame Avenue, the house was built for Notre Dame professor of English Maurice Francis Egan.  Egan was the first lay professor with a wife and children and the house was a necessity.  Egan’s friends from far and wide sent him numerous lilac bushes and the house was christened “The Lilacs.”

“The Lilacs” – Home of Professor Maurice Francis Egan at 1136 N. Notre Dame Avenue, c1890s

As a prominent writer, Egan was embraced into the South Bend social scene.  The Lilacs was the site of numerous luncheons, dinner parties, and student organization meetings.  Many visitors to Notre Dame also stayed overnight at the Lilacs.

After Egan left Notre Dame for Catholic University, Professor Charles Petersen lived in the house.  After his death in 1913, a number of faculty members and post-graduate students occupied the house.  In the fall of 1915, seventeen students lived in the house, and this tradition continued for several years until more student dormitories were built on-campus.

A group of students living at The Lilacs, 1915-1916

While the number of residents was small, the student publications Scholastic and Dome yearbook often mentioned the Lilacs (below is a tongue-in-check listing of the rules of the Lilacs).  The Lilac students may have been seen as the privileged few.  Since the house was situated a distance from the heart of campus, its residents had more quite setting for studying and a bit more freedom to go into town.  The house was also on the Hill Street streetcar route, so most students would have been aware of its existence.

Directory and Rules of “The Lilacs,” from the wit and humor section of the 1915 Dome yearbook

After the students left the Lilacs for on-campus housing, faculty members continued to live in the house for many years.  The Lilacs still stands today, but is now a private residence.

 

Sources:
Notre Dame: One Hundred Years
by Rev. Arthur J. Hope, CSC
Scholastic
Dome
yearbook
The University of Notre Dame: A Portrait of Its History & Campus by Thomas Schlereth

Joseph Casasanta

“When four rows of Glee Club singers chant a Notre Dame song; when columns of blue-uniformed bandsmen play and march to Notre Dame music — then we forget the ubiquitous campus grinds and gripers, and we hike along, down the line, cheering her name, and glad that Irish Backs are marching” [Scholastic, 03/14/1930, page 689]

Born into a musical family, Joseph Casasanta naturally became involved with the music organizations as a student at Notre Dame, holding leadership positions in the Glee Club and the Marching Band.  Before he graduated in 1923, Casasanta joined the faculty in teaching piano and as an assistant director of the University Band.  While music had long been taught at Notre Dame, there were no programs leading to a Bachelor of Music degree until the 1920s.  It is believed that Casasanta was the first student to earn such a degree at Notre Dame.

Portrait of Marching Band Director Joseph Casasanta, c1933

After graduation, Casasanta remained at Notre Dame, moving up to director of the Music Department until 1942.  He also led the University Band, the Glee Club, and the Orchestra; and he founded Notre Dame’s Linnets and the South Bend Symphony.  Casasanta’s most enduring legacy came from the songs that he wrote for Notre Dame, many of which have been in the repertoire of the Glee Club and the Marching Band since their debuts.

Inspired by the cadence of the football team, Casasanta and his brother-in-law and Notre Dame Architect Vincent Fagan wrote Hike, Notre Dame in 1923.  Scholastic reported that “About a year ago many of us felt the need of a new college song – ‘The Victory March,’ it was thought, was in danger of becoming too trite.  Our constant desire to sing our appreciation of Notre Dame demanded another melody.  As a result ‘The Hike Song’ was composed” [Scholastic, October 1923, page 102].

Alumni Michael and John Shea wrote the Victory March in 1908 to fill the void of a stirring Notre Dame fight song.  They felt their contribution was “amateurish” and they hoped that future students would build upon their initiative to create something even better.  Rev. Michael Shea recalled that “Ten years after my ordination, I heard the ‘Victory March’ for the first time while on a visit to Notre Dame.  How it came to its present exalted condition, I do not know.  The coming of Mr. Casasanta was evidently the realization of our hopes, and to him I express my hearty appreciation of a good work admirably done for the best University in the land” [Scholastic, 07/30/1930, page 529].  Casasanta’s arrangement of the Victory March is the basis for what the Marching Band and Glee Club still perform today.

“When the Irish Backs Go Marching By,” by Joseph Casasanta, c1930

On Down the Line came in 1925 and the students quickly embraced it in the repertoire of collegiate songs and cheers at the football games and pep rallies.  The Glee Club also sang these songs at concerts, on radio broadcasts, and for recordings, which helped to solidify their national popularity.

Notre Dame, Our Mother, whose lyrics were written by University President Rev. Charles O’Donnell in March 1930, debuted at the premiere of The Spirit of Notre Dame on October 7, 1931, and was quickly adopted as the Alma Mater.  At the end of the halftime show of the last football game of the 1931 season, “the people in the stands [were] requested to stand at attention for the playing of ‘Notre Dame, Our Mother,’ in memory of the late Knute Rockne” [Scholastic, 11/20/1931, page 9], and thus, another tradition began.

When the Irish Backs Go Marching By debuted in 1930 at a time when the “Fighting Irish” moniker was still somewhat influx, as Scholastic noted with tongue-in-cheek:  “The dispute over ‘Irish’ as applied to our varsities seems to be at an end; the name of the song has commemorated in lyrical history the 1929 activities of those doughty Celtic side-steppers—Carideo, Schwartz, Elder, Brill, Gebert, and Mullins” [Scholastic, 03/14/1930, page 689].

 

Alumnus Magazine, December 1968-January 1969, page 42:
Obituary of Marching Band Director Joseph Casasanta, 1968.

 

Notre Dame honored Casasanta at the 1932 Commencement Exercises.  Deeply touched by the honor, Casasanta wrote his appreciation to University President Charles O’Donnell and said in part, “Whatever I have done, I owe all to Notre Dame.  She has always been and will always be the source of all my inspiration, love, and joy” [UPCO 1/77, June 15, 1932].  Casasanta passed away in December of 1968, but his music has become an indelible part of Notre Dame’s identity and has endured throughout generations.

 

Sources:
Scholastic
Alumnus

UPCO
UPWL
UDIS 103/04
GDIS 2/17
UNDR 10/04
100 Years of the Notre Dame Victory March (1908-2008)

 

Mock Political Conventions

From 1932 until 1988, Notre Dame held mock political conventions every four years to pick a presidential candidate.  The mock conventions were held before the national primaries had determined a presumptive candidate, which generated much excitement in the selection process among the Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s College student delegates.  In a 1976 South Bend Tribune interview, Bill Mapother, the 1960 Chairman, recalled, “We practically closed down the damn University that week.  The whole thing was covered on the campus radio.”  The article continued, “[Mapother] claimed that the convention was ‘a hell of a lot of work,’ noting that the job actually started almost two and a half years before the scheduled date of the convention” [“The Notre Dame Mock Convention — Will This Year’s Be Accurate Too?” by Gerald Lutkus, South Bend Tribune, February 29, 1976].

Student delegates supporting Adlai Stevenson at the Mock Democratic Convention, April 1956.

The Law School organized a mock convention in 1932, and the Department of Political Science took the reigns in 1940.  Post-World War II, the conventions quickly escalated to elaborate and often raucous three-day events.  Students from all colleges participated and Notre Dame’s historically geographically diverse population allowed students to represent their home states.  The addition of women from Saint Mary’s College in 1952 undoubtedly also added to the appeal of the event.  Paul C. Bartholomew acted as faculty adviser until his death in 1975.

The Mock Conventions closely followed the format of the national conventions, from preparing platforms, voting for candidates, and securing high-profile speakers.  The committee leaders often secured senators, representatives, governors, and mayors as speakers, including Chicago Mayor Richard Daley in 1960 and George W. Bush in 1980.

Student delegates supporting Lydon B. Johnson at the Mock Democratic Convention, April 1960.

“The purpose of the Mock Convention is to provide students with an opportunity to work within the political nominating process in order that they might learn about our current political systems and parties. …

Also, the Mock Convention gives us, as students, the opportunity to speak out on pertinent issues (i.e. the party platform) and the viability of different candidates.”

[1972 Mock Democratic Convention flyer]

 

Student delegates talking things over at the Mock Republican Convention in Stepan Center, 1980/0308.
Cigars were a staple for the mock conventions.

Sources:
Scholastic

PNDP 71-Mo-01
GPHR 35m/06283
GPHR 45/2761
GNDS 26/22

See also:
Echos:  Mock political conventions at Notre Dame, 1940-1988,” by John Nagy, Notre Dame Magazine, Spring 2008

 

Sister Mary Aquinas, OSF

Notre Dame celebrates 40 years of coeducation this fall.  While the undergraduate women who arrived in 1972 were the first class to matriculate in the regular academic year, women had been earning bachelors’, masters’, and doctorate degrees since 1917 through the Summer School Program.  One of those women gained a bit of fame during World War II because she was an unlikely aviatrix and aeronautical expert.

Sister Mary Aquinas Kinskey, OSF, earned a bachelor’s degree from Catholic University in 1926.  She became a teacher and her interest in aviation stemmed from the enthusiasm for the subject from her students.  In order to best teach her students, she wished to learn as much about the subject as possible.  In 1942, she earned a Master of Science in Physics cum laude from the University of Notre Dame.  Her dissertation was entitled “Electron Projection Study of the Deposition of Thorium on Tantalum.”  Wanting hands-on aviation experience, Sister Mary Aquinas learned to fly in 1943.

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/owi2001030481/PP/
“Washington, D.C. Sister Aquinas, ‘flying nun,’ applying a little glue to the model P-38 which hangs from the ceiling of her classroom at Catholic University. A veteran of fifteen years’ teaching experience, the Sister is giving a summer Civil Aeronautics Authority course for instruction,” June 1943.
Source: Library of Congress, FSA/OWI Collection

That summer, she taught aviation at Catholic University and was involved in training through the Civil Aeronautics Authority.  Below is an announcement regarding Sister Mary Aquinas’ activities published in Scholastic, October 1, 1943:

One of Notre Dame’s religious alumnae who is doing her part in the War effort is Sister Mary Aquinas, the “flying nun.” Sister Mary Aquinas, who received her master’s degree in physics from the University, is an educational adviser to the C.A.A. in Washington. Her aeronautics course at the Catholic University of America is one of the first, if not the first, sequence of such courses for Teacher Training in universities during the summer sessions. The Sister, who believes in practicing what she teaches, is a flier. She often takes her classes on inspection and demonstration tours through aircraft factories and airports. Her group of black-hooded nuns are a familiar sight in these places.

“Washington, D.C. Sister Aquinas, ‘flying nun,’ exchanging trade secrets with an engineer at the Washington National Airport,” June 1943.
Source: Library of Congress, FSA/OWI Collection

In 1957, “the Air Force Association gave her a citation for her ‘outstanding contributions’ to the nation’s security and world peace” [“No Glamor Girl”].  As part of the honor, Sister Mary Aquinas had the opportunity to fly in a T-33 jet trainer and take the control for much of the flight, making her the first nun to fly a jet.

“Washington, D.C. Sister Aquinas teaching a lesson in practical radio operations to the Sisters attending her Civil Aeronautics Authority course for instructors at Catholic University,” June 1943.
The women with heart necklaces are Sisters of the Holy Cross.
Source: Library of Congress, FSA/OWI Collection

Sister Mary Aquinas was the subject of a 1956 television program The Pilot Her moniker as “The Flying Nun” leads many to believe she was the inspiration of the 1967-1970 television show starring Sally Field.  Furthering the thought there might be a connection, the television show was based on a The Fifteenth Pelican, a book by Tere Rios Versace, who also researched the life of Sister Mary Aquinas for an unpublished biography.  Versace’s papers can be found at the Wisconsin Historical Society Archives.

 

Sources:

“The Fighting Irish at the Fronts,” By Jim Schaeffer, Scholastic, October 1, 1943, page 9

September 3, 1942 Commencement Program [PNDP 1300]

Sister Mary Aquinas, ‘The Flying Nun,’ Says Air-Minded Child Is a Happy Child,” by Margaret Kernodle, AP Features Writer, Lewiston Morning Tribune, Lewiston, Idaho, August 8, 1943

Navy Invites Nun to Pilot Jet,” Lodi News-Sentinel, Lodi, California, July 25, 1958

“‘No Glamor Girl,’ Flying Nun Says,” by Bob Considine, The Milwaukee Sentinel, September 8, 1957

Three Sisters, Three Stories, Touching Lives,” Silver Lake College New Directions, Fall/Winter 2008-2009

Sister Mary Aquinas Is Dead; Pilot Inspired TV ‘Flying Nun,'” The New York Times, October 23, 1985

The Wisconsin Historical Society

Photos of Sr. Mary Aquinas from the Library of Congress are in the public domain