Dad

My father, a 1953 Arch. grad and a WWII vet began taking me to games in 1972 when my older brother, also an Arkie, was a Freshman. We were fortunate to have only a 2-and-a-half hour drive which allowed us to leave early Saturday mornings and return that night. The excitement of walking across campus on a gameday was like nothing else I had ever experienced. Notre Dame football became the primary bond between us as we grew up. Fussing over the depth chart, diagnosing the schedule, picking up recruiting lists once LOI day had passed. These became year-long obsessions.

We went to nearly every home game for eight years, until I became a student and he'd still visit me each home game. He didn't have a great voice but I can't remember a greater feeling of pride than when the Navy vet would sing "America the Beautiful" with the band, just prior to kickoff.

Now I take my sons to as many games we can get to, and absolutely every USC game. These moments, like all other events on our calendar, tie together generations and create memories like nothing else I can imagine.