What can we do?
We asked that of Caitlin Cipolla-McCulloch, nF.M.I. ’12, and Gabrielle Bibeau, nF.M.I. ’11, two novices of the Daughters of Mary Immaculate, the Marianist sisters.
“‘A peacemaker prays,’ said the spiritual writer Father Henri Nouwen,” according to Bibeau. “Part of the novitiate is focusing intensely on your prayer life, which includes an hour a day in silent prayer as well as studying the charism and doing spiritual reading.
“In these times of political turmoil and fear of the ‘other,’ I am reminded of how important prayer is for us to be people of peace. Spending time each day with God is where I gain the energy to speak the truth in humility and to love those with whom I strongly disagree. And my prayer is best when it reminds me to remember the sufferings and trials of people around the world and to live my life in a way that can, I hope, have a positive impact.”
“It is disheartening,” Cipolla-McCulloch said, “to see the many acts of violence occurring in the human family. The founders of the Marianist family, however, also lived in violent times. The founders responded by forming small communities of faith. Our communities, our families, are our first places where we can practice nonviolence.
“We can be people of prayer who seek to understand the differences among ourselves. We can be people of hospitality welcoming all kinds of people to our tables and homes. We can follow Mary’s example of pondering in our hearts. We can strive to be on the margins, advocating for those who are persecuted.
“We can form ourselves in faith and hope so that we can share this faith and hope with our church and our world.
“Our communities can help us share, help us gain perspective and challenge us to think about new, exciting ways to be people of peace.”No Comments
In the nine years since returning to his hometown of Cleveland, former UD student Jonathon Sawyer has emerged as one of the nation’s most renowned chefs and a dynamic force in Cleveland’s swelling 21st century renaissance.
Sawyer’s Greenhouse Tavern and Trentina have both earned “Best New Restaurant” nods from Bon Appétit and Esquire, respectively, while Sawyer himself captured the 2015 Best Chef: Great Lakes award from the James Beard Foundation, the Oscars of the food world.
It’s a spirited journey that began during Sawyer’s junior year at the University of Dayton.
An industrial engineering major, Sawyer recalls sitting in an engineering course in 2000 entering coordinates into AutoCAD,“respecting the work,” but not enjoying it, he says.
Around that same time, his boss at Dayton’s Café Boulevard — a curmudgeonly, though classically trained chef — told Sawyer he “wasn’t too bad at cooking.”
Those experiences combined with a frugal Eastern European heritage that celebrated home cooking ignited Sawyer’s culinary pursuits.
He left Dayton, where he was on track to graduate in 2002, and enrolled at the Pennsylvania Institute of Culinary Arts, the first step in a professional odyssey that led him to acclaimed restaurants in New York and Miami, back to Cleveland and appearances on national television shows such as Iron Chef America and Dinner: Impossible.
In 2009, Sawyer and his wife, Amelia, opened The Greenhouse Tavern in downtown Cleveland.
“The most impactful address I could have ever picked,” he says.
In addition to serving up New American fare that’s fueled Cleveland’s rising culinary credibility, the eatery also exemplifies Sawyer’s passion for running an environmentally conscious restaurant — Ohio’s first certified green restaurant, in fact. He sources ingredients from area farms and a rooftop garden, boasts a robust recycling and composting program, and supports responsible animal
“I wanted to be part of something positive, something bigger than myself, and I’m grateful to be doing just that,” Sawyer says.
It’s a warm, sunny night, the sun is hanging on the mountain range in the distance, and Molly McKinley ’01 is rolling down the tundra.
Tundra rolling may be a time-honored tradition more often carried out by children and the resident grizzly bears, but it’s also how McKinley likes to celebrate a warm summer night in Alaska: going side-over-side down the alpine biome. Throw in a handful of wild blueberries and she might just be in heaven.
Welcome to 99-year-old Denali National Park, one of the amazing American places protected by the National Park Service.
It has been 100 years since the National Park Service was founded, and in that time 412 wilderness areas and historic sites, natural wonders and national monuments have been created, recognized and protected. The oldest, the National Mall, was designated 226 years ago and grandfathered into the Park Service; the newest, Stonewall National Monument, was inducted June 24 of this year. Dubbed “America’s best idea” by writer Wallace Stegner, the National Parks model has been exported to countries around the world.
While the National Parks are full of monuments and glaciers, endangered species and civil rights memorials, perhaps their most important assets are their stories. Stories that celebrate natural wonders, such as the bristled trees of Joshua Tree National Park, and stories that reveal devastating human histories, such as the slaughter of 300 people in Sand Creek, South Dakota, and the internment of 117,000 Japanese Americans during World War II.
Those stories are at the core of the National Park Service mission: to preserve, “unimpaired the natural and cultural resources and values of the National Park System for the enjoyment, education, and inspiration of this and future generations.”
As the National Park Service prepared for its centennial celebration in August, University of Dayton alumni reflected on the important roles our parks play in society today and regaled us with their own stories of the National Parks and its mission.
Discover History: Preserving
Perhaps it’s natural that history major Ann Honious ’00 ended up working for the National Park Service, a leader in historic preservation and responsible for preserving everything from the stories of Paleo-Indians in North America 12,000 years ago to the Chesapeake Bay landscape associated with both the beginning and end of slavery in the United States to the Wright brothers bicycle shop.
Honious began at the Park Service in 1992, surveying historic buildings and parks and cataloguing historic structures. She worked at the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal National Historical Park before becoming the second employee at the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park. She then went to the Gateway Arch — formally the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial — where she oversaw for nearly six years the history, museum and ranger programs.
Today, she’s the deputy superintendent of Capitol Parks East in D.C. and the administrator for roughly 15 parks east of the Capitol, including the historic home of Frederick Douglass and Kenilworth Park and Aquatic Gardens.
“I’ve always been interested in telling stories, and the National Park Service gives an opportunity to tell those stories where they happened,” says Honious. That’s the National Parks’ purpose: “They help you find or get to know your country — whether that be on a hike in the Grand Canyon or a visit to Independence Hall.”
Or on a tour of one of the nation’s 11 National Battlefields.
When Dale Floyd ’68 walked the parks and fields of the American South back in the mid-1990s, he wasn’t looking at the trees or the animals, he was mapping Civil War battlefields in his mind’s eye. And on paper.
For nearly five years the historian served on the Park Service’s Civil War sites advisory commission, helping determine the nation’s most important Civil War battle sites. The Army had already done much of the heavy lifting, identifying 10,500 Civil War battles, and Floyd and colleagues used that documentation as a jumping off point. They narrowed the list to about 500 sites of import and set out to investigate.
With U.S. Geological Survey maps in hand, Floyd walked the sites, inspecting fields and pastures, determining the significance of the battles waged, and the condition of the land and any remaining artifacts. He evaluated what threats existed to the sites, and what might in the future. Some of the battlefields were mostly gone, developed or encroached upon. Artifacts at others had been mined by individuals.
In the end, Floyd and his co-authors drew up an argument for preservation of many of the sites. Without it, the report said, the nation stood to lose fully two-thirds of its major Civil War battlefields. Soon, the American Battlefield Protection Program was established and, in 1996, Congress signed into law the American Battlefield Protection Act. Under the National Park Service, the ABPP “promotes the preservation of significant historic battlefields associated with wars on American soil.”
Today, the Park Service oversees 11 National Battlefields, four National Battlefield Parks and one National Battlefield Site. While not all of the nation’s Civil War and Revolutionary battle sites are encompassed within the National Parks, many are. Antietam National Battlefield, for example, commemorates the bloodiest one-day battle in American history, a day where 23,000 soldiers were declared dead, wounded or missing after 12 hours of battle. Preserving such history is part of the Parks’ mission — and value.
“The Park Service is custodian of important properties,” says Floyd, who has since retired. “And the Parks are the conservators of what are supposed to be our most important historical properties.”
That historic conservation extends to manmade technology and its consequences. For instance, there’s the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park, which “preserves and interprets the history and legacies” of the Wright brothers and one of America’s great African-American poets, Paul Laurence Dunbar. Kimberly Juhnke ’02 is one of many UD alumni to intern as an interpretive ranger — think educator in a uniform — at Dayton Aviation.
To Juhnke, having a program that tells the story of the people and experiences that changed America is critical.
“Each site you go to you learn something new. It’s important to know where you came from, and what happened in our country,” says Juhnke. “The Wright brothers, for example, were such innovative men, and they never even graduated from high school. That’s a testament to that time period.”
While some sites celebrate innovation and American spirit, others serve as testament to American ingenuity gone unchecked, including the Johnstown Flood Memorial.
In the late 1800s, the wealthy citizens of Pittsburgh bought a reservoir, converted a dam and created a massive lake for a private resort. They altered the dam but failed to maintain it properly and, in 1889, a storm destroyed the dam, killing 2,209 civilians below. The Great Flood, as it’s known, also led to the creation of the Army Corps of Engineers. And yet, says Juhnke — who worked at Johnstown, Allegheny Portage Railroad National Site and the Flight 93 Memorial for a year after graduation — few would really know about that flood, or that devastation, were it not for the National Parks preserved memorial.
Preserving cultural and natural places may be core aspects of the Parks’ mission, but education is paramount. Education — about wild plants and animals or about historic events — inspires people to protect the parks for the future. It also shapes dreams.
Steven Roberts ’97 knows this firsthand.
It was a balmy Florida evening in 1997 when Roberts, alongside Greg Leingang ’97 and Brian Boynton ’98, first discovered the Castillo de San Marcos National Monument. The classmates had mapped their spring break by National Parks, arriving seven parks later at the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine.
Studying history growing up, Roberts had learned about Jamestown and about the Mayflower, but no one had ever taught him about the influence of the Spanish. As the lights burned below the walls of the Castillo, turning it into a glowing castle, Roberts knew he’d be back someday.
“The Castillo, built more than 300 years ago, isn’t just an old building, it tells special stories about freedom, about defending family, about sacrifice,” says Roberts. “Creating those experiences in real places has a huge power to help people find their own values, to find their own meanings in America’s special places.”
Roberts has spent the 20 years since that visit sharing the stories of America’s past through National Parks, beginning at the Dayton Aviation Heritage National Historic Park where he worked as a seasonal park ranger. Later, at Perry’s Victory & International Peace Memorial, he revealed the lives of those who fought in the Battle of Lake Erie during the War of 1812. He worked at James A. Garfield National Historic Site and Cuyahoga Valley National Park.
“I found specialness in the places,” says Roberts. “These were authentic places that had real stories of America for people to experience and actually become a part of during their visit.”
That Parks mission of education — and of sharing something important about America’s past with visitors from around the world — is ingrained in Roberts. “We help people care about their national parks, and about these national stories, and about these special resources. We hope they will get excited about them and also want to share these stories and become stewards of their own national parks. These are the people’s parks.”
Now, 20 years after that initial visit, Roberts is back at the Castillo where he serves as chief of interpretation and education.
If the Spanish arrival to America and their influence on the United States seems like ancient history, try donning Jeff Malik’s ranger hat.
In the high, cold desert of Kemmerer, Wyoming, there’s neither cactus nor bare earth in sight. Instead, sagebrush and mesquite and hardy vegetation clings to the earth, and prairie dogs run wild. A rock outcropping, Fossil Butte, hangs above the remains of an ancient lake. In that ancient lake are the fossilized remains of palm trees and alligators.
Malik, who is currently completing his master’s in public administration at UD, spent the summers of 2009 and 2010 at Fossil Butte National Monument, working as an interpretive officer, doing everything from leading tours to managing invasive species. The most exciting part of the job, however, was providing environmental education and especially fossil education.
Fossil Butte is home to 50-million-year-old fossils — among the best preserved in the world — and as such, it’s a destination for many families. One trail leads to an active resource quarry where researchers dig for fossilized fish. Visitors can watch the dig and, perhaps more important, rangers and researchers let kids lift up slabs of rock, look for fish and measure the fossils found.
To Malik, that kind of firsthand education is what makes the National Parks so important. They’re an opportunity for people to directly connect with nature, and with some of the most important parts of America.
“I mean that both in a natural environment setting and in a historic setting. It lets people experience these places firsthand, in a way that there’s no other chance for them to otherwise,” says Malik. “There’s just nothing that can compare to a kid going camping for the first time or seeing herds of bison in Yellowstone or viewing the Grand Canyon.
“That’s where the power is; that potential for a transformative experience.”
Which perhaps explains why the National Park Service is celebrating its centennial.
Explore nature: preserving
Today, 480 threatened and endangered plant and animal species exist within the areas protected by the National Parks, and the Park Service is charged with reducing the risk of their extinction while simultaneously telling the stories of these places, plants and animals to those responsible for preventing that extinction — the public.
McKinley, outdoor recreation planner at Denali National Park and resident tundra roller, has countless tales about the National Parks and run-ins with endangered species. The view from her office window in the woods offers spruce and alder and, quite routinely, a moose, but a short drive or hike leads to a world covered in tundra. Denali is green in summer, white in winter, and brown during spring — or mud season. Then, for a short time in autumn, there’s an explosion of color as the tundra comes alive in a way most people don’t expect. There’s a fabric to the place, says McKinley, a carpet of purples and reds and oranges.
During her Park Service career McKinley has spent a day perched on a glacier using a battery-operated chainsaw disassembling a decades-old plane crash for recycling. She has come upon a moose kill and a bear dining on that kill, and she has learned, midway through a river crossing, that caribou huff through their nostrils at humans. And, there was the day that, while surveying a new trail location, she looked up to discover one of those
endangered species the Parks seek to protect — a lynx — just 15 feet away.
“One of our goals is to not interrupt the activity of the wildlife if no one’s in danger, so I was just hanging out with this lynx,” she says. “Me and a lynx, for kind of a long time, and the lynx wasn’t scared of me and I wasn’t scared of it. But there’s this huge beautiful cat, with tufts of fur coming out of its ears, and huge paws that allow it to walk on the snow in the winter, and to be that close to such a different, beautiful, amazing creature is really special. I feel really blessed by those opportunities.”
Coming to Alaska is striking and sometimes hard to wrap our heads around, she says, but that’s part of the enjoyment: “Everything here is so darn big. The mountains are big, the landscape is big, the mammals are big. I think for some people it creates a baseline shift in how the world around us can feel. And, when the world around us feels really big, it can make you feel really small. Or, it can make you feel awed and inspired.”
Which is what the Parks are after: preserving natural places for education, enjoyment and inspiration. In fact, the National Parks stewards, and celebrates, some of the most spectacular scenic places in the United States. There’s the windswept Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore in Michigan, one of the of the 88 coastal and ocean parks in the system; the 4,700 caves and karsts scattered across the country, such as the lava tubes at Craters of the Moon National Monument in Idaho; and the star-filled skies over the buttes of Canyonlands National Park. And then there’s Old Faithful.
Yellowstone National Park, home to Old Faithful, became the world’s first national park in 1872, decades before the creation of the National Park Service. In August 1916, the Department of the Interior was overseeing 21 national monuments, 14 national parks and two national reservations, with no umbrella organization to run or manage them. With support from journalists, the National Geographic Society and more, Congress passed the Organic Act, establishing the National Park Service, and placing the 37 parks under its protection. Chief among those was Yellowstone. Today, Yellowstone encompasses 3,472 square miles, 500 active geysers, 900 historic buildings, 1,800 known archeological sites and two endangered species: the Canada lynx and the grizzly bear.
Melissa McAdam ’83 has seen much of this and more. Some of it from her office window, which on this day offers a view of a grazing female elk framed against a backdrop of historic buildings. Nearby, a tree bears the weight of a giant owl condo. The nests there have produced multiple flocks, and a parliament of owlets is fluttering among the branches. Tourists stand below, cameras trained on the baby birds, oblivious to the elk grazing nearby.
McAdam landed at the world’s first national park in the early 1980s on a lark. A friend had returned to UD raving about her summer working at Yellowstone, and so McAdam followed suit. In 1982, between her junior and senior years, she spent the summer working in reservations at Yellowstone. She returned in 1983 (and met her now husband, Rick), then left for a while to “try to do the real job thing.”
But Yellowstone beckoned. By 1985 they had returned for good.
“For us it’s the scenery, the feeling of openness, of spaciousness. When you grow up in the suburbs of the east, as I did, this is a different experience. It’s a feeling you can breathe,” she says of her decision to make Yellowstone home.
McAdam began her career as an accounting technician, then volunteered in the public affairs office before landing a job in the emergency communications center. She’s been working full time for Yellowstone National Park ever since and today holds the title of supervisory budget analyst. Her staff handles everything from human resources to procurement to budget management for the resource management and science branches of Yellowstone. Or the animal, vegetable, mineral branch, as she calls it.
“I like the idea of being part of a community — such a tight knit community — that’s also tied to a mission,” she says. “I’m still amazed by the wildlife. And the features — I don’t spend enough time at Old Faithful, but the features are unlike any other in the world.”
And then, there is the intersection of exploring nature and discovering history; of cultural and environmental preservation. Saratoga National Historical Park — one of the nation’s 50 National Historic Parks — melds cultural preservation and natural exploration. The park, in upstate New York, is rural, and the Revolutionary War battlefield that comprises the majority of the park has been protected from much of the encroachment that has happened at other historic sites. Saratoga has one big looping road that encompasses much of where the fighting happened in 1777. There are 10 places you can stop to see significant battle sites, and trails — paved and unpaved — jut out from each.
It looks much as it would have in the 1700s, says Jason Huarte ’02, and that means this park has given him an appreciation for the American Revolution and how difficult life was.
“It makes you pretty grateful for what we have now,” says Huarte. “Just a couple hundred years ago there were guys cutting down trees and building walls so lead balls didn’t go through their bellies.”
Huarte, an engineer and the supervisory facilities operation specialist at Saratoga, has seen his share of National Parks. He was sent to the Statue of Liberty after Hurricane Sandy and helped the National Park Service design a whole new docking system at Ellis and Liberty Islands. He has seen the massive red sandstone cliffs and narrow slot canyons of Zion National Park and most of the monuments in Washington, D.C. And of course, there were the years he spent as an engineer with the National Park Service in Alaska, flying on four-seat floatplanes to the wilds for a project, or helicoptering into the middle of nowhere to oversee construction.
“You see bears fishing in rivers, hear wolves at night. … And you’re on the clock. People save their entire lives to go see the things I saw while on the job,” he says.
Such wildlife may be why Huarte’s veneration extends beyond Saratoga and to the Parks in general.
“It makes you appreciate how rich of a country we are in natural resources. You have Alaska with glaciers, and then you have Death Valley — all in one country.”
The proud holder of a National Parks Passport — a little booklet filled with stamps that track every check-in at every National Park, Monument or Site — Huarte has already been to 112 of the 412 National Parks. Like many alumni, whether they work for the Park Service or not, his life goal is to visit them all.
“They call the National Parks America’s greatest idea,” he says. “I think it’s true.”No Comments
During his earlier stints in the corporate world, David Wise ’75 helped turn around faltering businesses near the end of their life cycles. Now he’s enjoying his own turnaround — after “retiring” in 2014, he’s funding startups across Baltimore and serves as chief executive officer for a company developing a vaccine for Zika and other tropical viruses.
Last December, Wise joined Pharos Biologicals, LLC, a startup founded by a Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine professor to develop a Zika vaccine. Pharos has also earned exclusive worldwide licenses for a patented Lysosome-Associated Membrane Protein (LAMP) DNA vaccine technology to fight influenza and flaviviruses, a genus of yellow fever-related viruses such as Zika, dengue and West Nile. Phase 1 clinical trials for the Zika vaccine are scheduled this fall.
While he works to raise money for Pharos, Wise also serves as a venture adviser for The Abell Foundation, an organization that helps new businesses secure funding to build what the group calls an “innovation ecosystem” in Baltimore.
“Most of the companies we’re creating don’t even have revenue yet,” Wise says. “It’s exciting to conceive of possibilities and what could happen.”
At UD, Wise majored at UD in political science and was active in national politics, campaigning for delegate spots at the 1972 and 1976 Democratic National Conventions. A short time in law school shifted Wise away from a legal career, and he decided to explore the intersection of policy and business by earning a master’s of arts in law and diplomacy from Tufts University in 1982.
Wise’s post-retirement career has provided him with the ideal opportunities to put that philosophy into action, as he sees his work with Pharos and Abell as more than just raising and awarding funds to get organizations running.
“We’re not just trying to make companies work, we’re trying to make Baltimore work,” Wise says.1 Comment
The city of Philadelphia is the birthplace of the nation, where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were written, debated and signed at Independence Hall. All the major U.S. professional sports are represented, including their own Flyers. “You can’t just say ‘I went to UD,’ or people might be confused with the other UD in the area, University of Delaware,” said alumni community leader Kris McCarthy McNicholas ’86.
Having schools in the area that are part of the A-10 conference brings fellow UD Flyers to the region often, with gamewatches being the most well-attended events this chapter holds. There are more than 25 universities in the geographic region, but clearly this chapter has its favorite.
How do you show your UD love in the city of brotherly love?
“I love UD, and I show my love by watching the UD games and wearing my Dayton Flyer attire to work on game days. I also attend events for prospective students and tell them my experiences and give them advice on what to expect.” —Aidan Curran ’13
“Not many people in the Philly area are familiar with UD, so I show my love for the Flyers by spreading the word. I do this in little ways like having a UD license plate border on my car, bringing a UD water bottle to work, and having UD stickers on my computer. Sometimes, these little things make great conversation starters. Even if they don’t, I find myself referencing my experiences at UD quite often in conversation.” —Christine Cirillo ’14
By the Numbers
Total Alumni: 1,692
Flyer fusions: 259
Most: 1980s with 528
Arts & Sciences 726
Education & Health Sciences 244
Law 123No Comments
As we sat on the couch sounding out a new word from her reading textbook, my foster daughter looked up at me and crinkled her nose. My brain hurts, she moaned.
Ah, the joys of a new school year.
As an adult, I have conveniently forgotten all those times when as a child I struggled and wriggled before understanding gave way to exuberance. This year’s new student convocation at RecPlex also reminded me of how certain I was of my major when I started at UD so many years ago, only to have my sail buffeted by every new professor. Become instead a geologist hammering fossils in an ancient sea bed? Why not. A sociologist researching the human connection to place? I’m there.
And I’m not alone. Maggie Schaller, a senior political science and human rights major, told the incoming class during her convocation address that she changed her major four times, dropped classes and quit clubs all on her way to excelling at the most important homework assignment: experiencing as much as she could.
“Above all, don’t be scared to learn,” she told the sea of students in their pastel shirts and Sunday dresses. “This includes in your classes, outside of them and, most importantly, about yourself.”
At convocation, speakers inspire students to dream and act and not freak out over the enormous changes and choices before them. Father James Fitz, S.M. ’68, offered words from the Book of Sirach. Its writer, he said, reminds us that if you wish, you can become. If you are willing to listen, you will learn. If you see a person of prudence, seek that person out. “Let your feet wear away that person’s doorstep,” he read.
It’s advice appropriate at a University where friendship and welcome invite us all to learn as a community, to embrace the messiness and the challenges not alone but in concert with those who will support and learn with us.
Philosopher John Dewey believed that the best sort of society is one that uses its collective intelligence. V. Denise James, associate professor of philosophy, cited Dewey in her convocation address that also asked students to answer one of her favorite questions: “Why am I here?”
“I know that real education has a way of chipping away at rigidity and certainty,” she said after revealing her own unexpected trajectory toward professor. “Education makes your world larger, multiplies your experiences, deepens your connection to others and lets you see new opportunities that you didn’t even know existed.”
And why are we here? Today’s answer should be different from tomorrow’s, as we ponder and grow. As James told the incoming class, “That’s my favorite compliment, when a student leaves class and says, ‘You made my head hurt.’”
The process may hurt a little, but we should refuse to be scared to learn. That’s wisdom for us all for the new school year and beyond.
A book by John O’Brien Jr. ’88
The luck of the Irish has surrounded John O’Brien his whole life, with his father establishing the Cleveland Irish Cultural Festival in 1982 and O’Brien starting the Ohio Irish American News in 2006. Now O’Brien, a first-generation Irish-American, is deputy director of the festival and has positioned his interest in Irish culture into a fourth book, The Lyrics of Irish Freedom. It celebrates the music of freedom — especially timely with 2016 as the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising, Ireland’s revolution. “We can only know ourselves in the seminal songs and stories of our past,” O’Brien said. Capturing the stories behind the songs sung in Irish pubs and festivals, the book features the background of 80 songs.
All of O’Brien’s books can be found at songsandstories.net.No Comments
A podcast by Rob Walch ’88
What started as a hobby has turned into a hall of fame induction for Rob Walch. Walch is vice president for podcaster relations for Libsyn and is host and producer of several podcasts, including the award-winning “podCast411,” an informative interview session for podcasters, which he started in 2004. In July, Walch was named to the Podcaster Hall of Fame in Chicago. Utilizing the skills he learned in speech class at UD, Walch has spoken about podcasting at more than 100 events. “The professor said the first day of class that it would be the most important class we would take at UD. I didn’t believe him then, but he could not have been more right,” Walch said. Listen to all of Walch’s podcasts at podcast411.libsyn.com/about.No Comments
A book by Richard Flammer ’85
The story of publishing Reality Check is filled with challenges and triumphs, as is the story of B.J. MacPherson, a popular professional hockey player in the ’90s whose career was cut short by a cheap shot in a championship game that would leave him paralyzed. Richard Flammer experimented with marketing plans — including selling the book at the games of the San Diego Gulls, then co-coached by MacPherson. But the franchise folded and the book was put on hold until the Anaheim Ducks reinvigorated the local market for hockey storytelling. While self-publishing wasn’t the original plan, Flammer released the book in October 2015 and hopes to write a screenplay about MacPherson. The true story can be found on Amazon at bit.ly/UDM_realitycheck.No Comments
Father Lawrence Mann, S.M. ’36 (ENG) lives in Cupertino, Calif., at the 1) Marianist community. He turned 2) 100 Aug. 1. He is the younger brother of the late 3) Brother Leonard Mann ’36. Father Mann is the 4) second-oldest living Marianist brother.
1) The Marianist Health Care Community in Cupertino is home to 28 Marianists, including two of Mann’s former students, and is the second largest Marianist community in the Western Hemisphere. Fourteen of the members have ties to the UD community. Mann has called it home for almost 20 years.
2) Mann began his career as a priest teaching high school in Cincinnati. His ministries took him to Marianist schools and parishes in Long Island, N.Y., Alameda, Calif., and Honolulu, where he was an adjunct professor at Chaminade University. He retired from teaching after his last stop at Chaminade Prep in West Hills, Calif. In his 100th year, he’ll also celebrate a Society of Mary milestone: its bicentennial in October 2017.
3) The Mann brothers professed first vows together in 1933. In 1954, Brother Leonard Mann ’36 began teaching in the UD physics department, and he served as dean of the College of Arts and Sciences from 1959 to 1985.
4) Mann is the second-oldest living Marianist. Brother John Totten, who lives in the Marianist residence at St. Mary’s University in San Antonio, is 102. Brother John Samaha, S.M. ’52, wrote to say the Cupertino community celebrated Mann with a special Mass and party that included several of Mann’s nephews from Ohio and Virginia. “I am grateful for the years of living as a Marianist with wonderful men in the community, living in our marvelous world, beautiful in its smallest and its most vast expanses,” Mann said.
Please note: Father Lawrence Mann, S.M., passed away on 9-1-16, after the publication of the autumn 2016 issue. May perpetual light shine upon him.No Comments