Terry,
You walked the green quads and played golf at Notre Dame prior to my arrival at Our Lady's University.
You were taught by some of the same priests who taught me, I'm sure.
You were graduated in 1960. I was graduated in 1970. Ten years apart, but, I think, not so different.
No women when we were both there. We both had Polish maids. We both had to wear coats and ties to dinner in the dining halls - at least until my Sophomore year.
We both had Father Riehle to deal with. He almost suspended me - twice.
We both had girls bused in from girls schools for mixers.
You didn't get a national championship. I was fortunate enough to witness one - in my freshman year in '66.
We both froze in January and we could both tell when it hit zero degrees because the steam from the power plant turned to ice crystals.
You shot par at Warren. I shot pool at LaFortune.
You had one of those soft Southern accents. I had a mixed Bakersfield/South Bay LA surfer accent.
You were an athlete. I was an athletic supporter.
You were a Notre Dame Letterman. I wished I could have been a Notre Dame Letterman.
You wore a pricelsss ND jacket with black sleeves. I wore a Notre Dame jacket with puce yellow sleeves that I bought at the Bookstore for 29 bucks.
When girls from out of state came on campus for home football games, they would turn their heads and stare at you.
When girls from out of state came on campus for home football games, they would stop me and ask, "Where can I find Jim Seymour and Coley O'Brien?"
At Notre Dame, the jocks and the grinds lived together. We moved in different circles, but we respected each other. We studied together. We walked the quads together. We yelled "Over the Wall" together. We chanted "Blood Makes The Grass Grow!" together.
You were a Notre Dame man. I never met you, but we exchanged ideas and when Kennedy was killed in 1963, you and I cried together even though we were thousands of miles apart.
We knelt in prayer on the same pews. Our hearts beat in unison in the old Field House. We both got sick over lousy hamburgers in the dining halls. We kissed girls under the same magnolia trees in the Main Quad.
And, we both bowed our heads in silent prayer as we read the Latin inscription on the pedestal where Jesus spread his arms and said, "Venite Ad Me Omnes," as His mother looked down upon him with pride.
And we both translated the words to unsuspecting vistors, as we said, "Jump, Mom! I'll catch ya!"
Now, Terry, you walk the quads with legends. With Paul, Ara, Frank Leahy, Knute, Adam Walsh, Seymour, Jeff Alm, Rodney Culver, Dave Duerson, Red Salmon, and others. You stand on the sidelines for every home game. Your family members tune in for every Notre Dame game and when the players take the field, they swear they can see you running along side of them, smiling, running with your heart on your sleeve as if you're going to catch the kickoff and take it all the way to the house against USC for the winning score.
You will be missed, but you never really left us, did you?