There are few things in life more valuable than lasting friendships. I have been more than blessed with friendships that began nearly 60 years ago when I was a student at the University of Notre Dame School of Law and that remain strong decades later. That was evident when we reconvened at Notre Dame Cathedral last week.
I entered the University of Notre Dame in 1965. It was about a 1,300-mile drive from my home in Queens to the campus in South Bend, Indiana.
In my life experience, that distance was light years. I had no idea what was going to happen. My life up until that point had been almost entirely confined to Queens, where I grew up. Brooklyn, where I went to high school and college. And Manhattan is where I was born and where I spent my last two years of college working at the 10th Avenue Railroad Express Terminal, loading and unloading trucks and wagons.
My out-of-state adventures were limited to New Jersey. When I was 9 years old, it was a two-week summer rental, a few day trips to visit relatives, and a two-night stay at the Palisades amusement park. In New York, I took the ferry once to Staten Island, occasionally went to Jones Beach, went to the Bronx to watch a few Yankees games, and went to Fordham to watch the Giants practice. I have never eaten at an actual restaurant and my dining experience was limited to White Castle and a pizza place.
Notre Dame’s campus was as impressive as advertised, with its famous golden dome glinting in the Indiana sun and more trees and manicured lawns than I’ve seen anywhere other than Central Park. The law school is a three-story Gothic building that conveys the seriousness of its purpose. I chose to live in Fisher Hall, the graduate student dormitory, rather than an off-campus apartment primarily for convenience. It was a two minute walk from the law school and next to the cafeteria.
Most importantly, the law students who lived around me in Fisher Hall were wonderful people. Dick Manning, Tom Curtin, Tom Ward, Charlie Weiss and Lanny Bohnenberger became lifelong friends. For the most part, we all had similar upbringings and were educated in Catholic schools. All of us except Ward, whose father was a doctor, were the first in our families to attend college. All the other students had gone to university, so I had no idea what dorm life was like.
We were all happy to collaborate and help each other. It’s a far cry from the cutthroat competition at many law schools. This was a great defense for the law school dean, who was proud of the number of first-year students who failed or were bailed out. His welcome speech to us set the tone: Before long, one of you will no longer be here. And the first thing I said was, “Enough is enough, enough is enough! ” Cursed be those who cry out. ”
Fortunately, six of us survived a semester of bloodletting by the dean, Ward and Weiss doing very well, and the rest of us doing well enough.
Sometime in the spring of our first year, there was a climactic power struggle between the dean and the president, Rev. Theodore Hesburgh, over the fall law school admission dates. Their grand compromise was to give the dean a start date but banish law students from campus. This was my first experience with collateral damage! But the six of us found a house to rent in South Bend, and our friendship is stronger than ever.
Adding to all this was the fact that during my first term I met Rosemary, a student at neighboring St. Mary’s School, and she became an integral part of our group. We got married at the beginning of our last semester before graduation.
After graduation, all did well: Manning in Chicago, Ward in Maine, Curtin in New Jersey, Weiss in St. Louis, and Bohnenberger in West Virginia. Although we were miles apart, we stayed in close contact over the years, including at our five-year reunion, and even during the pandemic, we held weekly Zoom meetings.
Then last summer, Manning, who had drawn us to us in so many ways, passed away, and we decided to have our own mini-reunion. So last week we met again in South Bend.
There has been a change. Fisher Hall and the house we were renting were demolished. The law school building is many times larger than before. But nothing had changed between us. As we walked around campus, we reminisced about good memories, talked about the past, and talked about our children and grandchildren. We were grateful for the bonds of friendship that have taken another century to build and are even stronger after 70 years. It’s a wonderful gift.
Go, Irish!
Peter King is a former member of Congress and former chairman of the House Homeland Security Committee. Comment? pking@liherald.com.
