Father Dennis Dease will retire on June 30, completing 22 years as the 14th president of the University of St. Thomas.

The St. Thomas that Dease will hand over to Dr. Julie Sullivan on July 1 is dramatically different from the St. Thomas he inherited from Monsignor Terrence Murphy, yet his desire always has been simple and forthright – to improve the quality of education and to carry out the mission.

That desire has manifested itself in many ways – in new campuses and new buildings, in a more racially and ethnically diverse student body, in a stronger faculty and staff, and in highly successful fundraising efforts.

Dease is the first to credit the entire St. Thomas community for making so many dreams come true. He speaks quietly of how “incredibly blessed” he is to be surrounded by people “who care deeply about this university and who have a deep passion for learning and helping others to learn.”

He sat down this spring to reflect on his presidency and to look ahead to the challenges that await his successor and the University of St. Thomas.

Q. Twenty-two years! Does it seem that long?

A. The first year seemed like 22 years because of the learning curve, but the last 20 years have just vaporized. It’s like if you get on a plane and don’t have anything to read, the trip takes forever. But if you have a good book, you’re there before you know it. There has been so much activity and growth here at St. Thomas that the years have just flown by.

Q. In 1991, how long – honestly, now – did you expect to be president? Are you surprised that you have served 22 years?

A. I knew the average term for a university president in the United States was about 6.5 years, and a little longer in Catholic institutions. Archbishop John Roach, our chairman at the time, asked me on the day of the board’s interview with me if I would be willing to give 10 years to the job. I said I would. I was just hoping I could hang in there for 10 years!

Why did I stay 22 years? No one is more surprised than I am. Maybe it was just the grace of God. One thing I know for sure: It’s important to have good people around you to take on responsibility and work together, and ours is a wonderful culture in that sense. I am so fortunate that the faculty and staff became my friends and have been magnificent in carrying out our mission, and I could not have asked for a better board of trustees. They are can-do, make-it-happen individuals who know how to solve problems. Those are the real reasons for the long run.

This is a unique kind of university. You don’t find here the acerbic divisions that are so common in academe. On a 1 to 10 scale in this regard, the St. Thomas community rates a 10. I do not exaggerate. Sure, we’ve had strong disagreements at times, but the civility with which we have carried on our discussions always made me proud.

Q. How has the job changed over the years?

A. The job as a Catholic university president is never easy, but there is less stridency today surrounding our Catholic identity. There is more clarity, thanks to the decade-long discussion prompted by the Holy See’s document Ex Corde Ecclesiae. In my early years, there were many hard discussions trying to balance the role of Catholicism with that of a university. As I leave office, the dominant issue is affordability.

Q. What has been St. Thomas’ most significant accomplishment during your tenure? Is there any particular accomplishment with which you take personal pride?

A. We put a lot of effort into strengthening our Catholic identity. We are clearer today about the meaning of our commitment to cultivate our Catholic mission. We have a rich, 4,000-year Judeo-Christian wisdom tradition upon which to draw, as well as a vibrant Catholic intellectual and cultural tradition.

I am pleased that we have steadily strengthened our faculty. Many of them come from the best universities in the world. They are productive scholars and they are just incredibly fine teachers. I see master teachers as those who not only educate but also inspire, who are passionate about their disciplines and who change lives. Their fire is burning brightly because they stoke it with research and then come into the classroom and light a fire for others. They have what William Butler Yeats said about the purpose of education being not just one of filling a bucket but lighting a fire.

We also have seen the student body change academically as judged by ACT scores (averages of 23.1 and 25.6 for entering freshmen in 1991 and 2012), and we are more diverse. We were mostly white middle class (4.5 percent students of color in 1991) but today we have higher percentages of students of color (14 percent) and international students (4 percent), and they have enriched the learning environment.

Q. In the essay that you submitted with your application to be president, you listed a priority to strengthen our Catholic character, and in your inauguration address you emphasized the need to avoid “a slippery path to a rather bland secularism.” What does the path look like today?

A. I no longer see that as the threat I saw 22 years ago because the academic environment is much more open to us being Catholic. A Catholic university is built on the  premise that faith and reason are not antithetical but are complementary. One can enrich the other. Science and religion can learn from the other, and I find that fun because my personal interests and background have been on the religion side, but in school I always found science fascinating.

Q. How do programs such as a Center for Catholic Studies and a Rome campus enhance our Catholic character?

A. Our Center for Catholic Studies enriches us as a Catholic university, and in ways we didn’t anticipate when we designed it. It enables students to integrate what they are learning in terms of their faith with a whole variety of other disciplines and perspectives. It traces and explores the Catholic influence in literature, science, philosophy and the arts.

The Rome campus was a bold step for us. It certainly wasn’t going to become a profit center, but the trustees agreed from a mission point of view that it was important. I love  the facility itself, located on the Tiber River just a 15-minute walk to St. Peter’s. We were fortunate to have a dear friend, the late Cardinal Pio Laghi, dedicate the campus, and I still remember him saying, “The city of Rome is a wonderful professor.”

Q. Why do students need a liberal arts education? What does it mean?

A. A liberal arts education is a process; it’s not a product. It’s not a discreet amount of information that you acquire; it’s the result of personal interaction with mentors, with professors. It’s not data; it’s an expansion of students’ horizons and of shaping their awareness and preparing them for lifelong learning. It is truly transformative.

It comes about because of interaction with talented, experienced teachers. Our class sizes are relatively small, which allows for interaction, and the approach that our faculty takes is inquiry based learning. There is an old saying, “Tell me and I’ll forget. Show me and I’ll remember. Involve me and I’ll understand.” That’s inquiry-based learning.

Q. More and more scholarship and research involves students. Why is that important?

A. It is not that common for faculty in higher education in the United States to involve undergraduate students in their research, but it is common here at St. Thomas. You get a sense of how much this means to students when you attend their poster sessions, such as the ones I have gone to for chemistry. There were so many students presenting research on poster boards. They used to be able to get all of them into the corridors on one floor, but this year there were so many that they had to have two shifts. That’s thrilling because it’s learning at its best.

Q. Another priority you cited before becoming president was a desire for St. Thomas to become a great “urban” university, and you later said that we should not just be in the city, but of the city. Have we taken sufficient steps?

A. When I was rector of the Basilica of St. Mary in downtown Minneapolis, every day people were at the door in need of housing, clothing, food or even bus tickets. People were living under the freeway bridge across the street. That weighed on me, and I thought an urban university would have something to contribute to alleviate the suffering.

The chief way we contribute is through education – by educating first-generation students and by encouraging an organic interaction between the university and the  community. We are not an ivory tower that is self-sufficient, but an urban university that responds to issues and whose students have an opportunity to learn from  community-based projects and supervised, reflective experiences. We always can do more, and I expect we will do more because we have created a culture where people want to be part of the solution.

By “of the city,” I meant that we have a responsibility to the region we serve to provide for its emerging educational needs. We will continue to do that. We are organically part of the city here, and our future will rise or fall with the future of the city.

Q. St. Thomas revised its mission statement in 2004. What does it mean to you when you look at it today?

A. It goes like this: “Inspired by Catholic intellectual tradition, the University of St. Thomas educates students to be morally responsible leaders who think critically, act wisely and work skillfully to advance the common good.” I love that mission statement because it succinctly captures us and it guides us.

Q. So it boils down to how people need to go out and do the right thing?

A. Absolutely. I have had a stream of students and faculty come through my office excited about projects. Like engineering professor Camille George and her project to dehydrate breadfruit in Haiti to preserve it and meet the nutritional needs of the people there. Or Brian Osende, an engineering student who went back to his remote village in Uganda with solar panels and his knowledge as an engineer, to electrify his village. It dawned on me that I had something in common with the people of that village because that was an electrifying experience for both of us.

Q. Throughout your presidency, you have expressed concern – even frustration – about the rising costs of education and the growing perception among some people that they cannot afford St. Thomas. How do you address that?

A. I tell them, “Don’t be scared off by the sticker price.” We have dramatically increased financial aid. I also point out that our average net cost has not increased in the last 10 years beyond the rate of inflation. The average debt load that an undergraduate student leaves St. Thomas with is around $30,000 – the same as what many new cars cost, and they won’t drive that car for the rest of their life. I believe $30,000 is a reasonable price to pay for an education.

Q. St. Thomas has been successful in raising funds, including $765 million in the Opening Doors and Ever Press Forward capital campaigns. Does the generosity of alumni and friends, even during a serious recession, surprise you?

A. It is astounding in one sense but not in another. People see the kind of institution that St. Thomas is and come to a judgment that we are adding great value to the community. They appreciate the way that we respond to emerging educational needs, and they want to be part of it.

Q. Enrollment growth in the 1970s and 1980s led to crowded conditions and decisions to open a Minneapolis campus and significantly expand the St. Paul campus. But needs remain: Music programs want better facilities, science and engineering programs are out of space and neighbors push for more on-campus housing. Is a university ever done with construction?

A. Never! I wish it could be so. But as educational needs continue to change, so must our programs and our facilities, and that entails reimagining and retrofitting the physical campus.

Q. What would you consider the “signature” buildings of your presidency?

A. Each building has been important in meeting critical needs. The Minneapolis campus buildings gave us an opportunity to concentrate many graduate and professional programs there, and each has served its distinct profession well.

In St. Paul, the Frey Science and Engineering Center addressed perhaps our greatest need, and McNeely Hall has made a huge difference to our business faculty. The three Anderson buildings have enriched student life immeasurably: the Athletic and Recreation Complex and the Student Center bring people together and allow the community to come to know itself in ways not previously possible, and you can never have enough parking.

Q. Why is diversity important?

A. I love the diversity I see on campus because it enriches the learning experience for all of our students. It better prepares them for the world in which they will live and work. In practice, when a student from Eden Prairie or New Market or Lake Benton meets a student from the Middle East or China or Africa, that student starts to ask questions about his new friend’s experiences, culture and perspective. In the process, he learns more about the world.

Q. In becoming more diverse, have we become a better reflection of the region’s racial and ethnic makeup?

A. We are definitely more reflective of the community. I can’t recall many Hmong students here 20 years ago, and there are many today. I also am pleased with the recruitment in immigrant communities. Who would have thought that the largest representations today from foreign countries would be Saudi Arabia (99 students last fall) and India (56)?

We had the opportunity a decade ago to provide space for English Language Services, and we brought international students to campus and gave them a chance to look around. The Saudi Arabian Cultural Mission in Washington provides full scholarships, and I began to develop a relationship with those officials. I was concerned about how they might view St. Thomas and they told me, “We love Catholic universities because they respect the role that faith plays in life.” We have had an excellent experience.

Q. Another way that St. Thomas provides greater access for lower-income students is through the Dease Scholarship Program. How did that come about?

A. Greg Roberts, our vice president for student affairs (until 2003) came to me one day and said the number of African-American students had dropped to a critical level. There was a general feeling in that community, he said, that St. Thomas was not a good fit for African-American students. That got my attention. I realized we would need to re-engineer our efforts. And we did.

When I see someone like Laura Lee, who was a Hmong student at St. Thomas, now at the top of her profession as a (television) anchor in Rochester, I can’t find words to express my gratitude that we were able to be there when she was saying, “Educate me, expand my horizons, give me some skills!” It’s humbling and it’s gratifying to be part of this journey.

Q. St. Thomas has largely managed to avoid controversy over the years. There have been some dust-ups and we have come under criticism for positions we have taken on certain issues, but for the most part our alumni and the broader community have stuck with us. Why?

A. It’s because people accept who we are. They may disagree with us, but they respect who we are. They also respect our graduates. I have long believed that the ultimate measure of the quality of a university is the quality of its graduates – and ours are extraordinary.

Q. Have you ever second-guessed any decisions? Or looked back and said, “I should have handled that differently”?

A. I haven’t had time! Seriously, so much has happened here. Maybe I will in retrospect, when I have had the chance to think, but not now. This is such a busy place – when one chapter closes you are already working on the next.

Sure, I have made mistakes along the way, but people are good here. Not a lot of finger pointing goes on. They acknowledge any mistakes and the explanations and say, “Let’s move on.”

Q. You never seem more a priest than when you say Mass and never more a president than when you are handing out diplomas at graduation. How are those special moments to you?

A. When I am holding the host or chalice in my hand, I feel like I am in the presence of Jesus in a way that I can’t even begin to understand or appreciate. I often experience Jesus’ love intensely in those moments, but trying to comprehend it would be like trying to understand the light that comes from the other side of the universe.

When I hand out diplomas, I see the smiles as students come up and cross the stage. They’re just so happy. There’s no finer moment in the life of a university president than when you see students who know that something very good has happened.

Q. What kind of role do you want to have as “president emeritus”?

A. I will try to be of help in whatever way I can – to the university and to Dr. Julie Sullivan, who is a wonderful person and will be an extraordinary leader. I see myself as becoming a goodwill ambassador. I have been blessed with good health, and as long as it holds up I will be active. I’m not yet ready to spend my time watching the daytime soaps or the Weather Channel.

Q. What advice do you have for your successor?

A. I will tell her to enjoy what will likely be the most wonderful job she’s ever had.

Q. In past Q&A interviews for St. Thomas magazine, we closed with the famous John Ireland quote about the need to “ever press forward” because “God intended the present to be better than the past and the future to be better than the present.” How do you relate those words to the mission of St. Thomas?

A. It inspires us to dare to be great, to dive into life, to become part of it, to make tomorrow better than today. We can actively and significantly contribute, and that is what we here at St. Thomas choose to do – to advance the common good.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

From the inception of St. Thomas, we have had pre-eminent designers complete buildings that are important to the history of American architecture, including Clarence Johnston’s Chapel of St. Mary (1905), Emmanuel Masqueray’s Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas (1918), and Edwin Lundie’s Gainey House (1954-1957). But, perhaps the most notable work completed for St. Thomas was done by turn-of-the-20th-century architect Cass Gilbert.

The year is 1890. The high school, college and seminary of St. Thomas Aquinas, founded by Archbishop John Ireland, have been holding classes for five years in a single, Second Empire style building located on the site of the present day north campus. The time had come to consider a more elaborate setting, given the expanding interest in religious training at the seminary.

Ireland had the land, 60 acres donated by Irish immigrant William Finn. He needed an architect and patron to create and finance his vision. The patron? None other than railroad baron James J. Hill, who would contribute $500,000 to the project in honor of his devout Roman Catholic wife, Mary.

As historian Mary L. Wingerd noted in Claiming the City: Politics, Faith and the Power of Place in St. Paul (2003), Hill had a vested interest in the seminary for business reasons as well. Archbishop Ireland was committed to the Americanization of Minnesota’s culturally diverse Catholics, and his goal was to establish a seminary that would train priests to impart American Catholic principles to their parishioners. Since most of Hill’s employees were Catholics, it served his purposes to support the education of priests who would Americanize his workforce. It also served Hill’s purposes to recommend a capable designer to the archbishop.

On Oct. 22, 1891, James J. Hill summoned Cass Gilbert to his imposing new residence on Summit Avenue. Gilbert, a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Ecole des Beaux-Arts based architecture program, had worked in the office of the most important architecture firm in late 19th century America, McKim, Mead and White, before returning to St. Paul in 1882. A six-year partnership with James Knox Taylor dissolved about the time of this particular meeting.

Cass Gilbert. (Photo courtesy Minnesota Historical Society)

Gilbert’s career was taking off and Hill had been the benefactor of his success in Gilbert’s designs for several depots for his Great Northern Railway. When Gilbert arrived at Hill’s mansion, he found Archbishop John Ireland and Father Louis Caillet (Mary Hill’s confessor) there with his host. The purpose of their meeting was to discuss the design of new buildings for the expanding seminary. The next day, Gilbert and Archbishop Ireland drove out to see the land Ireland had selected: forty wooded acres sloping toward the east bank of the Mississippi River at the end of Summit Avenue.

Archbishop Ireland contributed to the seminary’s design as much as he could, but Hill left no doubt that he was the one who was fully in charge. Gilbert historian Geoffrey Blodgett described their encounter in Cass Gilbert: The Early Years (2001): Hill “fixed his intimidating one-eyed glare on the young architect and told him that he was answerable to Hill, not the archbishop, on all issues touching design, construction, and cost.”

Hill’s continuous intervention into the minutia of everything from heating systems to door locks must have challenged Gilbert. He regularly gave the architect a dressing-down if the slightest changes were made without his approval; and he even threatened to find someone else to work with or to stop work altogether.

Gilbert seriously considered withdrawing from the project more than once, but he saw it through to the end.

Despite the power struggle with Hill, Gilbert succeeded in producing an environment that supported Ireland’s goals: a place for the education of American priests with a  campus that engaged with its natural environment and developing residential area around it.

Gilbert designed six buildings for the seminary: an administration building, a classroom building, two dormitories, a refectory and a gymnasium. The original plans called for a chapel as well, but this was put on hold until later. Hill wanted the buildings to be plain but dignified. Gilbert responded with a pared-down aesthetic similar to the Great Northern depots he had already designed for Hill in Willmar, Grand Forks and Anoka, a safe choice since their design had already weathered Hill’s exacting scrutiny.

As Hill kept pushing Gilbert to reduce costs, the architect drew together Renaissance inspired elements to produce well-proportioned buildings with smooth brick walls, hipped roofs and arched windows. The north and south wings of the administration building housed, respectively, a private chapel and a library large enough for 20,000 volumes. The three stories of the central portion housed administrative offices, apartments for professors, a common room, parlors and reception rooms. At four stories plus the attic, the north and south dormitories each had a chapel, and together they provided enough space for each of 120 students to have two private rooms. There also were bathrooms with hot and cold water and an infirmary.

The St. Paul Seminary building, now demolished. (Photo courtesy Minnesota Historical Society)

In the two-story classroom building there were four classrooms, one of which was a “physical” and chemistry laboratory. On the second floor there was a “great hall” (also referred to as the aula maxima) with a platform at the front and seating for as many as 500 people, a space that served the community as well as seminary.

The two-story refectory housed a kitchen and dining hall described by a contemporary writer as having a “lofty ceiling of native woods, broad, old time fire place, plentiful supply of light.”

From the outside, the most notable feature of the gymnasium building that doubled as the school’s heating plant was its smokestack, complete with a Latin cross in brick relief at its uppermost reach. For recreation, the two story structure offered a large gymnasium with open trusswork and four smaller rooms, one of which was used for  reading. Although the 1893 financial panic slowed things down, the buildings were completed in 1894 at a cost of $184,268.13, well under the $200,000 budget, as Gilbert was proud to point out — and even then Gilbert had a hard time getting Hill to pay him in full.

In an article in the April 1895 issue of the Catholic University Bulletin, Father Patrick Danehy, one of the seminary’s professors, described the new buildings as being “in the North Italian style, simple, solid and impressive.” To him, “the solidity of their walls reminds one strongly of the monastic edifices of a bygone age.” For Archbishop Ireland,  on the other hand, the seminary was meant to be contemporary and forward looking, designed to meet the latest needs of the modern, American Catholic Church.

Even with its nod to tradition, the facilities the seminary provided were fully up-to-date,  from a heating plant that was reportedly so advanced that it was written up in the Engineer’s Journal, to a physics and chemistry laboratory designed to make sure the students would be well-informed when questions came up about the relationship between science and religion.

The campus also was decidedly unmonastic. Rather than clustering the buildings tightly around an inward-looking, cloister-like courtyard, Gilbert oriented all of them  northsouth and grouped them loosely, leaving a good bit of space between them. He also oriented them so that they would have a connection with the surrounding community.

Summit Avenue skirted the northern boundary of the site, and the east-west trajectory of Grand Avenue defined the campus’ main axis. This became all the more apparent when a drive – essentially an extension of Grand Avenue – was installed through the center of the court. The campus was thus connected with and open to the community, and it also provided a reason for people to come: the classroom building housed an auditorium that could seat as many as 500 people for public lectures.

Ireland’s decision to place different functions in separate buildings was an unusual choice at a time when most seminaries were housed in a single, large building. Ireland believed that seminary education ought to cultivate the body as well as the mind and spirit, and he contended that exercise should be part of the students’ education.

Ireland may have been responding to growing concerns about seminarians being too stationary and disconnected from the world, as they remained holed up in the large, all-purpose buildings where they lived and typically were educated. And he also may have imbibed the growing taste for “muscular Christianity,” a movement that advocated physical exercise as a means to the production of a form of Christianity that was robust and manly.

Physical education was becoming an increasingly important component of education, as Gilbert would find in designing buildings at the Shattuck School in Faribault, Minn., and Madison Central High School. With the campus-like arrangement Gilbert produced, the students would be compelled to get outdoors to go from building to building,  and they also would have the gymnasium available for more vigorous exercise. Beyond this, there were acres of what Danehy described as “native sward threaded with graveled walks and dotted with flower beds” where the seminarians could stroll.

The result was a campus designed to produce a new, American priesthood, through modern facilities serving a modern educational agenda, encouragement of physical as well as mental exercise, and integration with the community.

Perhaps Gilbert’s most iconic Minnesota design is the state capitol building.

By the time the seminary was ready to build its chapel, Gilbert had extricated himself from the project and moved to New York. He may have been relieved rather than offended when his architect friend Clarence Johnston was tapped to do the chapel’s design. Predictably, the seminary was known, for a time, as the Hill Seminary after its major benefactor, and its resemblance to Hill’s Great Northern railroad buildings was not lost on observers.

What remains of the St. Paul Seminary is now part of the University of St. Thomas’ south campus. Three of the buildings have been demolished and several still serve the  university community. The two dormitories – Cretin and Loras halls – have been remodeled, with the former an undergraduate student residence and the latter an office building. The gymnasiumheating plant survives as the university’s Service Center, although at one point it was considered as a potential dedicated art gallery for exhibitions, a notion that may come to be in a new fine arts building in the coming years.

In To Work for the Whole People: John Ireland’s Seminary in St. Paul (2002), author Sister Mary Christine Athans noted that designing and overseeing the construction of the Minnesota State Capitol (1895-1905) or even the United States Supreme Court Building (1928-1935) in Washington, D.C., probably was an easier task for Gilbert than building the seminary.

Even though Gilbert at times was constrained by Hill’s patronage, he stayed true to his classically inspired architectural vision and created at the end of Summit Avenue, the start of our own version of an American architecture, appropriate to the Catholic identity of those creating it.

About the authors: Victoria Young is an associate professor of modern architectural history at St. Thomas. Katherine Solomonson is an associate professor of architectural history in the College of Design at the University of Minnesota, and is working on a book documenting Gilbert’s career.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

“I try to go off the beaten track when I choose where to take my students,” said George, director of bands, Symphonic Wind Ensemble and string orchestra, and chair of the St. Thomas Music Department. “I want to take them out of their comfort zone and be pushed into a different atmosphere that they wouldn’t be able to experience here.”

This wasn’t George’s first time traveling abroad to work with international composers and music ensembles. His music exchange started 19 years ago when he was invited to Mexico City to lead a weeklong seminar at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. His charge was to discuss wind band music, form an experiment ensemble and give a concert.

The trip was such a success that they invited George back and asked him to direct and form what is now the Banda Sinfonica at the Escuela Nacional de Musica of UNAM. George returned to Mexico City two to three times a year to help develop the program until they finally hired a full-time conductor. People heard of the work he did there, and George began to receive invitations to work with other international ensembles.

Listen to the fourth movement of Roger Cichy’s Bugs, a piece commissioned by the Symphonic Wind Ensemble in 1999.

George’s research has taken him around the world to learn about the different ways countries make and perform music. As a conductor, clinician and lecturer he has traveled across the United States, Canada, Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, continental Europe, Ireland and the United Kingdom, Australia, Japan, China, Brazil, Paraguay, Argentina and India. He has worked with professional groups such as the National Youth Wind Orchestra of Great Britain and the Band of the People’s Liberation Army in  China. He also has conducted in prestigious venues such as the Sydney Opera House, the Oriental Arts Center in Shanghai and the National Theatre of Performing Arts as well as the Forbidden City Concert Hall in Beijing.

Perhaps the most meaningful benefit of these shared experiences is that they have allowed George to bring international composers back to St. Thomas to write original music for his students to perform.

“I think the most unique thing we do that most other music programs don’t is to commission new works of composers, particularly from other countries,” George said. In the last 22 years they have commissioned 80 new works for the symphonic wind ensemble, and at least half of those come from international composers.

Students learn more than they anticipate from the international pieces they have performed. Philip Smithley ’15 said that the band members were challenged last fall when they were given a piece of music titled “Desi Jhalak,” meaning “A Peek Into India,” written by Bollywood composer Shamir Tandon. Smithley said there is a “vast difference in the way music is rehearsed and performed in India, where it is not notated but rather improvised after years of studying, compared to Western music where all of our music is written out.”

George smiles as he ends a performance of the String Orchestra in the Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas. (Photo by Mark Brown)

Alexandra Gobell ’13 explains that the band members are often out of their “comfort zone” when performing international pieces, but that bringing the composers to St. Thomas allows them to learn about the story behind the pieces and teaches them about the composers’ native countries. Then, when possible, George takes the students to the countries where they perform such pieces as “Desi Jhalak.” Going to India was a way for the students to experience the culture of the music that they perform.

“A very important part of our touring process is the exchange of experiences. I want the students to be able to serve the culture through their music. Instead of going somewhere passively like a tourist, I want them to be immersed in the culture by meeting with their peers and trading stories and experiences of what it’s like to make music in our country, what it’s like in their country and what the differences are,” George said.

This exchange happened between Amber Neid ’14 and composer Tandon. The song was originally sent to the band in an electronic audio format without any sheet music. Neid worked with Tandon to put the song on paper so that the band could read, rehearse and perform the piece.

“That gave us a lot of practice on aural skills rather than just reading music off a piece of paper,” Neid said. “I think that made all of us better musicians. Seeing the composer light up when he heard a ‘western ensemble’ play his traditional Indian music was worth all of the work we put into it. Then, when we played it in India, it was a huge hit because it was music the audiences could relate to, but with instruments they had never seen or heard before.”

George and the students are challenged musically when working with groups of different countries, and because they are working in a new culture.

“Whenever I’m asked to conduct national music of the country I go to, it’s really intimidating because I know everyone knows it, and I’m just now learning it,” George said. “It takes a lot of study, a lot of asking questions, a lot of listening to styles of music so I approach it and seem competent.”

George has experienced many differences between how cultures approach music and rehearse. In Latin America, he learned how musicians approach rhythm differently; “What’s popular to them is highly rhythmic dances. Instead of our Top 40 music, they listen to samba and all kinds of art and dance forms. They feel these rhythms rather than read the music on the printed page.”

There are similar challenges in China where communicating meanings of the same word is expressed by tone, and George says that their music approach also is that way with bending and inflection that our language – and music – do not possess. In England or Australia, learning new terms for familiar musical functions is the challenge. “I have to think about how I’m going to say certain things and as I speak, I have to translate the terms in my brain,” George said. The same translation process happens when he must speak Spanish in Latin America. In countries where George does not know the language, however, a translator is needed, which presents numerous challenges.

Listen to a selection form Chen Qian’s Ambush! From All Sides as played by the Symphonic Wind Ensemble.

“My rehearsals are very fast-paced and to the point,” George said. “When I can’t just deliver what I want to say and I have to use a translator, I must adjust to still make it efficient. And you just hope that what the translator is saying is exactly the message that you’re trying to get across.”

In order to adapt to these situations, a certain kind of personality is needed to not only travel but also to work with people of different cultures. “If you try to force your preconceived notions onto what you’re going to experience, you’re going to be miserable. You have to have a personality that is adaptive,” George said. When he worked in Mexico, he had to get used to starting later; “When we started rehearsals at 10 a.m., we wouldn’t actually start until 11:30 a.m. At first I got upset, but then I just went with it. So, the next time we started at 11:10 a.m., then at 10:30 a.m. and then finally we started at 10 a.m. If I just tried to force it, it wouldn’t have worked.”

Traveling as part of his career was not something George expected. His first time on a plane wasn’t until he was 18 years old. Now his children, who he and his wife often bring on these trips, have seen more of the world than most adults.

“I’ve been extremely fortunate. When I started at St. Thomas I never thought my life would take me in the direction it has taken me in terms of international experiences,” George said. “The best part for me is that when I go places, people native to the culture will take me to where they go, not to where tourists go. It’s a tremendous opportunity and I feel very blessed.”

Though his interest in traveling came later in life, George’s love for music started when he was a young boy in Geneva, N.Y. “It all goes back to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass,” George said. His uncle used to have eight-track  tapes that he and his older cousin would listen to, and the sounds of Herb Alpert’s trumpet playing fascinated him.

When his cousin began to play trumpet, George was inspired to learn to play as well. He played trumpet from elementary school through high school, and then played professionally. But it was in high school when George’s interest in conducting began.

During study hall, George went to the band room to practice. When no one was watching, he stood on the podium and pretended that he was conducting a full band. Without knowing it, George was being watched by his band director. To encourage George’s interest in conducting, the band director let him rehearse a piece that George later conducted at a high school band concert.

“My life ambition was to become a high school band director,” George said. After receiving a B.M. in music education and trumpet performance from Ithaca College, he began teaching high school band in New York.

“I realized that there was more than just teaching music in high school; there’s also hall monitoring and cafeteria duty. I wasn’t interested in doing those things,” George said. So, he earned an M.M. degree in music education from Southern Methodist University in Dallas and a D.M.A. degree in conducting from the University of North Texas. During that time he also performed as a professional trumpet player and taught at the university and privately. George then came to St. Thomas in 1991.

Once a solo conductor in an empty band room, George has conducted some of the best bands and orchestras in the world, and his students are greatly benefiting from his passion and ambition. “Dr. George has been a huge inspiration for me as a future director, teacher and conductor,” Neid said. “Watching him conduct during our rehearsals has taught me a lot that I can’t learn at a desk,” Neid said.

The student musicians in Brady Educational Center practice and rehearse for perfection. But George gives them something more than notes on paper – he introduces them to the world through the music they play.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

So he moved to Alaska.

“I picked Juneau thinking it was the largest city in the state since it was the capital. It wasn’t,” he said, laughing at his innocence. He didn’t know it then, but his misjudgment would prove inconsequential. His yet-to-be-lived career would fly him to the world’s most cosmopolitan cities.

As founder and executive director of the Clean Washington Center (1991 to 2006), an environmental technology center in Seattle, Dougherty brought his vision – to assist U.S. companies in processing and finding markets for recyclable materials − to manufacturers and governments around the globe.

In 2007, his work for the United Kingdom was honored by Her Majesty, the Queen of England, Elizabeth II, who bestowed on him the title “Honorary Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire.”

Dougherty said he doesn’t know who nominated him (the process is shrouded in secrecy) or why he, in particular, was selected, but he left a prolific trail of crumbs that may lead to the reason.

His story begins nearly 50 years ago in a tiny capital city on the panhandle of southeast Alaska.

“You can make a difference if you believe in something and you push for it”

Dougherty got his start at 22 in the office of Alaska Gov. William Allen Egan, the state’s first governor. (Alaska was a territory and did not officially become a state until 1959.) Egan tasked a small team that included Dougherty to secure national funding to get anti-poverty programs going for the rural villages inhabited by Eskimos and Alaska natives. Their effort was part of the national Great Society program, a plan created by President Lyndon B. Johnson to eliminate poverty and racial injustice in the United States.

“That was really transforming,” Dougherty said. “Even though I was a junior guy I realized what an impact I could make. … I realized, ‘Gee, I can make a change.’ And these were substantial changes we were making up there. Not only did we bring Head Start, we brought electricity to these villages and created co-ops for them.”

Dougherty also took part in educating Eskimos and Alaska natives on their rights to their lands − “lands that had never been ‘bought’ from them (when the United States purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867),” Dougherty explained.

“So there was a land claims bill submitted to Congress to pay them for their land, but it wasn’t going anywhere until oil was discovered (in 1968) on the North Slope (the northernmost section of Alaska),” he said. “A judge ruled that the oil companies couldn’t build a pipeline through Alaska to Valdez until they knew who owned the land. So the oil companies jumped in with the natives and got them to push a settlement to the land-claims groups. In the end, the Eskimos and Indians received a huge settlement from the federal government, which then helped them create a more economic base and growth.”

This first job, he emphasized, “made it clear to me that you can make a difference if you believe in something and you push for it.” After several years, Dougherty and his family moved to Anchorage, where he served as assistant city manager. There he led an initiative to consolidate the city of Anchorage and all of its emerging, outlying suburbs – which had their own local governments – into one unified government. It had to go to vote, and it passed.

“I think Alaska was a good thing for me because it’s so sparsely populated that one young guy in his early 20s could make an impact,” he said.

Even so, after getting married and having two children in Alaska, Dougherty began to feel confined and isolated and wanted his kids to grow up in a bigger city with more opportunities.

Seattle and Tougher Challenges

After relocating to Seattle with his family, Dougherty took on “bigger” and “tougher” challenges as assistant director of the state’s Department of Trade and Economic Development.

Gov. Booth Gardner tasked Dougherty with helping smaller businesses get more financing, for which he created two programs − one in which the state of Washington allowed small business to make public stock offerings, an option available only to big business at the time. The other would create an economic development finance authority that would “sell nonrecourse bonds to help small business and economic expansion in the state,” Dougherty explained.

While hearing Dougherty’s testimony before the state legislative committee on behalf of his proposals (both of which passed after much effort), Maria Cantwell, the committee chair and now a U.S. senator (D-WA), played an inadvertent role in charting the course of his career.

She asked him to conduct a yearlong study to devise a plan for reducing Seattle’s ballooning collection of recyclables – a pile so massive the Wall Street Journal dubbed it “Mount Glassmore.”

Dougherty remembers how Cantwell broached the subject: “She said, ‘You know, the cities are collecting papers and plastics and glass. Where are the markets for those?’”

The question threw him for a loop. Dougherty responded with a laugh, “I don’t do garbage!”

One thing he did know: Seattle had started recycling plastic, paper, glass and aluminum, and they were piling up. He also knew the city was paying $20 per ton to ship the papers “to somewhere in Asia to do something with them,” he said.

After completing their study, Dougherty and his team “came to the conclusion that if you didn’t get the industry in your own region to figure out how to process that material and put it back into your own products then recycling wasn’t going to work. Because nobody wanted glass. Plastic companies certainly didn’t want plastic. And the paper industry could only take certain grades of paper.”

The study brought to light a number of conundrums. Dougherty asked himself: “What are the engineered properties (of the recyclable materials)? How do you process this stuff in an economical way so they can be put back into product?”

His answer to these challenging questions was the Clean Washington Center, which he created in 1991. The organization, an effective blend of industry experts and government officials, worked to create markets for recyclable material. Its offshoots continue its mission today.

The CWC was so successful that it soon received $4 million from the federal government to make its work available to other states.

Among its successes were developing markets for recyclables that resulted in an average of about $100 a year per household in avoided waste removal costs.

In 2001, Dougherty told online magazine Recycling Today, “This region has always had the capacity for paper, but we have also developed the capacity for plastics, too. Five years ago we had no capacity to use recycled plastics – mainly PET and HDPE. Now it is a different story. Our engineers went to plastic plants and helped them convert to recycled feedstock. The result is that now we have an annual capacity of 12 million pounds of PET and HDPE. … so that has worked really well.”

After helping several states develop similar programs, the CWC’s trail of success stories caught the attention of New Zealand. Hong Kong, Spain, Australia and Scotland followed suit.

That’s a WRAP

Dougherty remembers the fraught phone call he received from the United Kingdom in 2000: “I was up in Scotland helping them develop a program (Remade Scotland) when I got a call from a spokesman for the environment minister from the U.K. saying, ‘We are so far behind in recycling. … The European Union has set down regulations and if we don’t meet certain levels of recycling we get financial fines. Could you set up a center for all of the U.K., including Northern Ireland?’”

The challenge he was up against was huge. And tough.

David Dougherty’s Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire medal. (Photo by Mark Brown)

Using the CWC as a template and £84 million from the British government, Dougherty acted as a special adviser to shape the work programs and strategy that culminated in WRAP (Waste and Resources Management Programme). Among his collaborators was WRAP founding chairman Vic Cocker CBE (Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a rank one notch above “Officer”), brother of rock musician Joe Cocker.

Liz Goodwin, CEO of WRAP, who worked with Dougherty in the organization’s infancy, attested, “There were a lot of market failures that needed to be addressed. Some of the issues were lack of awareness, lack of infrastructure to make it easy for people, lack of reprocessing – both technology and infrastructure – lack of end markets, lack of confidence in end markets and lack of standards.”

When WRAP first began, Goodwin said, “household recycling rates (in the U.K.) were around 10 percent compared to 43 percent today. We were just starting on the journey  to increase recycling. … There hadn’t been any real focus on end markets or developing markets for the materials that were collected. There was very little infrastructure.”

WRAP was, and continues to be, a success. Its achievements include helping the U.K. recycling and reprocessing sector to quadruple in size between 2000 and 2008,  diverting 670,000 tons of food from landfills, decreasing growth in household packaging waste and developing a “world-first technology for the closed-loop recycling of plastic bottles, which has led to the creation of a new market for recycled plastics in the U.K.,” according to its website.

Dougherty’s work on WRAP did not go unnoticed.

He remembered, “I got a call at 5 a.m. from the British Embassy. He informed me ‘You have been to the U.K. a lot.’ And I thought ‘Uh oh, I’m going to need a working visa. This is not good.’”

But the man continued: “‘ … your significant contributions to the United Kingdom and other countries have been noticed, and noticed at the highest level. This culminates six months of research on you, and I’m calling to tell you Her Majesty wishes to bestow one of the highest titles on you for your contributions to the world.’”

The honor is not given liberally. Notably, that year Bono was named an honorary Knight Commander of the OBE. Few Americans have received the title. Gen. George S. Patton and Bob Hope are among the Americans honored with the title “Officer.”

A Reluctant Tree Hugger

Thinking restrospectively on his career, Dougherty said, “To be honest, I was more attracted to the prospect of making recycling work than answering a calling to be an environmentalist. My wife is more of an environmentalist than I am.”

But when you spend a couple hours with him, it becomes clear he harbors an inner tree hugger.

“I’ve never seen this as a waste issue. It was always a materials efficiency issue,” Dougherty said. “Once you take down a natural resource, how do you use it many, many times before you eventually have to discard it? As the population continues to expand, these resources are going to get scarce.”

When he reminisces about how far recycling has come in the United States and his small part in its progress, his eyes light up: “When we started recycling it was just glass, paper and aluminum. And then we expanded to plastic. With paper in the beginning they could only take certain grades of fiber, but now they can take all grades. That’s a true example of recycling. We used to cut a tree down to make the Sunday paper and it had a 20-minute life span before you threw it away. Now that same fiber gets used seven or eight times before it gets thrown away.”

In addition to his work with governments, Dougherty has innovated technologies for recycling discarded material into usable, marketable products for corporate clients. He worked with Adidas, turning shoe scraps – canvas, plastic, leather – into artificial turf and other products. In a collaboration with the Miami Heat, he worked with engineers to turn tire rubber and shoe scrap into better cushioning for the team’s practice court. He also helped facilitate the invention of rubberized asphalt from ground-up car tires,
an innovation that is laid on California roads by law and has been implemented in several other states.

“You’ve got to use those resources because this planet is going to have a lot more people and it has got be able to stretch its resources. To me it was always an issue of using our natural resources more intelligently,” the environmentalist in him said. Retired for a few years now, Dougherty “found a new challenge: working with Seattle Historic Parks.” As a board member, he is leading an initiative to create a conservatory for each of the budget-tight city’s 18 deteriorating historic parks.

In his long and decorated career, Dougherty traveled a path that took him around the world and transformed him into many things: executive, government worker, officer, problem solver, believer, even, arguably, environmentalist.

But when reflecting on the whole of his career, Dougherty’s choice of words evoke the spirit of a 22-year-old adventurer who once made his way from Minnesota to Alaska in 1965: “I didn’t plan this. I just followed the road.”

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

The St. Thomas Dance Team has just completed the two-minute routine it has been preparing for since its auditions in April. Dancers wait on stage at Disney’s Wide World of Sports next to the seven other Open Division teams that made it to the final round of competition in the jazz category. Hands clasped and eyes closed, they wait as teams are announced in reverse order of where they placed.

In third place: longtime rival and consummate contender Lidenwood College from Missouri. In second: regional peer College of Saint Benedict. There is only one team left to call.

According to sophomore Annie Lindberg, the most exciting moment is when second place is announced. “You want to jump up and down but you also want to be respectful of the other teams,” she said.

But when the Tommies are called, “it’s instant tears.”

Alex Brown and Julia Randall

Samantha Maroney

Ensuring there is time for homework is critical. Ulfers requires the dancers to maintain a 2.5 GPA to stay eligible for the team. “Their primary role is to be students first. That’s why they’re here,” she said.

In addition to maintaining good grades, school spirit also remains a priority. Ulfers sees it as the team’s primary commitment. “After academics, our first responsibility to St. Thomas is to be supporting athletics,” she said. It’s a responsibility the dancers take seriously, but also one in which they take great pride.

Perdew recalls performing at football games as one of the highlights on the team. “You are proud when you’re out there because it’s such a great school, such a great team,” she said. “The football team especially talks about being one big family. We feel like we get to be part of that family on game days too.”

Maroney says that the pre-game festivities that were new this year helped raise the team’s profile: “We got to talk to alumni and their kids before games and hear about how much they love to watch us perform. We would never have gotten to do that without the pre-game parties on the plaza.”

While school spirit obligations keep them busy throughout the fall, it also is the time of year that the dancers begin preparing for competition by meeting with choreographers and learning the routines they will bring to nationals. Another reason the team has been so successful, according to Ulfers, is that each year she tries to bring something innovative or different – an ironic notion, considering the team has used the same jazz choreographer for nine years, former Tommie dancer Rachel (Brenk) Doran ’07.

“Ever since she was a sophomore on our team, Rachel has been an innovator,” Ulfers said. “Besides producing beautiful choreography, she understands the scoresheet we’re judged on and makes sure to include elements that help maximize our points.”

Alex Brown

For this season’s hip-hop routine, Ulfers was looking for something new that would challenge the team. She was not disappointed. The complex choreography from Shandon Kolberg called for intricate footwork and gravity-cheating lifts and tricks that were completely new to the dancers. “When they first learned their hip-hop dance, they truly couldn’t do it,” Ulfers said. “It makes me that much more proud of our second-place finish knowing how far they’ve come with the routine.”

Back at practice, injuries are checked. Maroney applies an Icy Hot patch to her neck as Ulfers asks, “How’s it feeling? Make sure you take it easy.” It’s an unfortunate necessity in the dance community to dance through the pain. The competitive nature of the sport often teaches dancers to perform even when they are injured because there’s always someone out there willing to take your place. But while some teams operate under the assumption that everyone is replaceable, the Tommies don’t subscribe to that notion.

Wood found that out during the final week before nationals when executing one of the difficult lifts in the team’s hip-hop routine. She was nearly sidelined by a shoulder injury, and her doctor recommended she rest. Her teammates were a motivation in pushing through the pain.

Samantha Maroney, Kelly Olson and Julie Randall lift Morgan McGowan.

“The best bet,” he said, “is to surround yourself with good people, and bet on yourself.” The president, chief executive officer and sole principal of Industrial Equities L.L.P. makes the comment quietly but not arrogantly, exuding a self-assuredness that has evolved one project at a time over the last three decades.

“I sit down with my children all the time and I always tell them the same thing: have confidence in yourself,” he said. “I studied the real estate business north, south, east and  west until I knew it, and I invest in and choose projects that I understand.

“Bet on yourself and don’t rely on others who might steer you in a different direction. You have to trust your own instincts and your own judgment.”

Allen’s philosophy has allowed him to build Minneapolis-based Industrial Equities into a commercial real estate investment, development and management firm with a portfolio of nearly 3 million square feet. His Windsor Development of Florida, a residential development company, has completed 1,500 lots in Minnesota, Arizona and Florida, and he has developed several hotels.

Projects like those are a long way from Suamico, Wis., north of Green Bay, where Allen grew up the second oldest of six children. He enrolled at Northland College in Ashland, Wis., to major in social science, minor in history and political science, and play outside linebacker in football and center in basketball.

After graduating in 1977, Allen moved to Minnesota and law school at Hamline University. He had no intention of practicing law but he believed a legal background would  better enable him “to think logically and intelligently in understanding the complexities of business and politics.”

A magazine article piqued his interest in the real estate sector, and Coldwell Banker Commercial Real Estate Services hired him – “the first and only job I ever interviewed for” – as an industrial broker in January 1981. His first deal involved an 800-square-foot lease and within two years he was one of the top five producers in the firm’s Edina office.

“John had an overriding resolve to excel and succeed, and I also saw a guy who was very proud of his family,” said Ken Sandstad, the Coldwell Banker executive who hired both Allen and Patrick Ryan ’75, now president and CEO of Ryan Companies and a fellow St. Thomas trustee with Allen. “I have seen many people who say they are highly motivated and driven, but in the end they do not live up to the talk. John always did. The pride in his family stood out for me, too.”

Allen remained with Coldwell Banker until 1995, advancing to become senior vice president and arranging more than 10 million square feet of sales and lease transactions,  and he also struck out on his own in 1983. He founded Industrial Equities because “ultimately, I wanted to develop my own portfolio,” and he has long favored institutional-grade industrial properties with the most up-to-date technology, extensive glass, ample parking and attractive landscaping.

“We are very nimble and engaged,” he said, referring to a “guerilla development” strategy that allows him “to get in, don’t take too big a bite out of the apple, get the deal  done and then move on to the next investment.” It’s important to always manage risk, especially in challenging economic times.

“We also have to remain focused,” he said. “We have resisted the temptation to go in other real estate directions. We did some hotels and residential lots and had really  good runs, but our best thrust is multitenant, institutional-grade industrial projects. We understand the market demands – and what is going to lease.”

Lee Anderson, a fellow St. Thomas trustee who owns more than 30 construction related companies, admires Allen’s ability to assess a project’s potential and move quickly if he deems it a good fit.

“John sees opportunities where others might not,” Anderson said. “He knows how to size up a good deal. He has an engaging personality, and he uses it to his advantage. People like being around John.”

Dee Ann Stinebaugh, a 1988 St. Thomas alumna, has worked for Allen since 1995 and today serves as director of property management at Industrial Equities. She calls her boss “super driven,” with an innate sense as to whether a project will work.

“He has made so many right decisions along the way, and he also has walked away from some deals that could have been bad,” she said. “He has the touch.”

Most Allen projects fly below the public radar, but one that didn’t was his proposal last year to construct a 68,000-square-foot office and warehouse building on the north side of Interstate 94, east of Highway 280 in St. Paul.

The project complied with all city requirements and industrial zoning codes, but the city council voted “no” in response to neighborhood concerns about design and parking. Allen successfully sued the city and expects to open the warehouse this year.

“I’m not litigious by nature,” Allen said, “but in this case I had to protect my investment. This will be a good project for St. Paul, with more new jobs (150) and more taxes for the city.”

Among Allen’s hobbies – and one he shares with Anderson – is restoring wooden boats, which he keeps on property he owns on Gull Lake in northern Minnesota. He has acquired 22 boats; the oldest, Chief Mackinac, is a 1917, 32-foot launch constructed by Consolidated, and the youngest dates to 1955.

“Gull Lake is one of my favorite places to be,” Allen said. “Lee encouraged me to get into antique boats and I have thoroughly enjoyed them. We have a healthy collection and competition.”

Allen’s fondness for Gull Lake led him to purchase the legendary Bar Harbor Supper Club in Lake Shore. The original 1938 restaurant burned down in 1968 and was rebuilt twice before Allen purchased it last year with an eye toward an extensive renovation that would recall its past.

“Bar Harbor’s historic presence appealed to me,” he said. “Three and four generations of families have dined and danced there. After the renovation, an older gentleman told me, ‘I am 92, and I have been coming here every summer since 1938. I thought I would hate what you’ve done, but I love it!’”

Allen jokes that Bar Harbor “never will make my Top 10 deals from a standpoint of profitability,” but he has no regrets. As he examined the project, he chose to move ahead in large measure because he believed it would benefit the community.

And it was, he might have added, another example of betting on himself.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

St. Thomas Day recognizes the extraordinary contributions that members of the St. Thomas community have made to the university and the wider community. The awards that are presented on St. Thomas Day were instituted over a period of 60 years.

St. Thomas Day events began with Mass in the Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas led by Archbishop Emeritus Harry Flynn, chair of the university’s Board of Trustees. A dinner and awards program followed in Woulfe Alumni Hall, Anderson Student Center. More than 500 members of the St. Thomas community attended.

Father Dennis Dease, president of the University of St. Thomas, was pleasantly stunned at the St. Thomas Day awards Wednesday night when he was presented with the Distinguished Alumnus Award.

This marked the first year the recipient of the award was kept hush-hush until the night of the ceremony.

Dr. Rachel Wobschall, executive director of Alumni and Constituent Relations at St. Thomas, said, “The Alumni Association Board of Directors unanimously nominated and approved Father Dease. We decided to keep it a secret because of Father Dease’s humility − we thought he might not accept it if he knew about it.”

Dease’s brothers, sisters and other family members showed up at the dinner to surprise him, but he did not read anything into their appearance other than to think they were there to help him celebrate his final St. Thomas Day as president. He also did not read the printed program at his table, listing him as the Distinguished Alumnus Award winner, so when his named was announced he had a surprised look on his face. He received two standing ovations from the capacity crowd In Woulfe – one after his name was announced and the other after a video was played.

Nominations for the Distinguished Alumnus/Alumna, Humanitarian and Lavin awards are welcome throughout the year but are required by July 1 for consideration for the following year’s St. Thomas Day. For forms and more information on how to submit a nomination, visit the Alumni Association website.

Distinguished Alumnus Award

Father Dennis Dease took office as president of St. Thomas on July 1, 1991, but he has a longer association – nearly 50 years – with the university and the St. Paul Seminary.

A native of Corcoran, Minn., he taught theology at the College of St. Thomas and served as spiritual director and dean of formation at the St. Paul Seminary. Ordained into the Roman Catholic priesthood in 1969, Father Dease has myriad degrees: a B.A. in Latin and philosophy, a Master of Divinity degree from the St. Paul Seminary, an M.A. degree in counseling psychology from St. Thomas and a Ph.D. in systematic theology from The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C.

In 1982 he joined the St. Thomas Board of Trustees. He served rector of the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis from 1985 to 1991.

The university grew significantly and made many notable achievements during his 22-year tenure, including:

• Establishment of a Minneapolis campus and constructed four buildings for programs in business, law, education and professional psychology
• Construction of a dozen major buildings on the St. Paul campus, including a student center, an athletic and recreation complex, a science and engineering center, a business building, two apartment-style residence halls and a parking ramp
• A new campus in Rome (2000)
• New academic programs in law, Catholic studies, mechanical and electrical engineering, entrepreneurship and Irish studies, and quadrupled study-abroad participation with semesterlong programs based in London and Rome and many opportunities during January Term
• A tripled student-of-color population as well as a tripled number of international students.
• $765 million raised in two capital campaigns – $250 million in the Ever Press Forward campaign, which concluded in 2001, and $515 million in the Opening Doors campaign, which came to a close last October.
• Accreditation from national or international associations for all major graduate programs.

Dease will retire as president of St. Thomas June 30 this year.

Professor of the Year

Dr. Mark Neuzil, a member of the Communication and Journalism Department, will receive this year’s Professor of the Year Award. Neuzil, who joined St. Thomas in 1993, also serves as director of St. Thomas’ Office for Mission and is an adviser to TommieMedia.com.

He is the author or co-author of four books with environmental themes: Mass Media and Environmental Conflict: America’s Green Crusades, co-written with William Kovarik; Views of the Mississippi: The Photographs of Henry Bosse, which won a Minnesota Book Award; A Spiritual Field Guide: Meditations for the Outdoors, co-written with Dr. Bernard Brady; and The Environment and the Press: From Adventure Writing to Advocacy.

Neuzil earned a bachelor’s degree from Iowa State University, and master’s and doctoral degrees from the University of Minnesota.

Humanitarian of the Year

Charles Lugemwa ’03 M.M.S.E. will be honored with the 2013 Humanitarian of the Year Award for his work with Hope Medical Clinics. Lugemwa co-founded the Ugandan clinics with Father Dennis Dease.

A native Ugandan, Lugemwa serves as in-country director of Hope Medical Clinics Uganda and is manager of data management in the IT Division of the Uganda Revenue Authority.

Hope Medical Clinics Uganda provides people access to health care services, regardless of income. The organization operates clinics in the Kampala suburbs of Ndejje and Kasubi, and the Ruth Gaylord Maternity and Pediatric Hospital, which opened in January 2012.

Lugemwa lives in Kampala, Uganda, with his wife, Maria, and their three children.

Monsignor James Lavin Award

Don Traxler ’50, retired president of Northern Star Co., is the recipient of this year’s Monsignor James Lavin Award. Established in 1994, the award honors a volunteer for his or her service to the St. Thomas Alumni Association. Traxler has served the alumni community for decades as a volunteer and active participant, most notably as a member of the Old Guard and its annual reunion committees.

As a student at St. Thomas, he majored in business administration – general business management and economics. The parents of nine children, Traxler and his wife, Dolores, have provided scholarship support to St. Thomas students, and Traxler has been a member of the President’s Council since 1986.

Tommie Award

Eyo Ekpo of Andover, Minn., was voted recipient of the Tommie Award by St. Thomas faculty, staff and students. He is an entrepreneurship and finance double major. He also is a member of Beta Gamma Sigma, an international business honor society; Delta Epsilon Sigma, a national scholastic honor society; and Delta Sigma Pi, a professional business fraternity; HANA, a multicultural student organization; Practicing Entrepreneurs; Senior Legacy; Real Estate Society; Undergraduate Business Council; and Tommie Ambassadors.

An athlete in varsity football and varsity track and field, Ekpo also served as a representative on the Student Athletic Advisory Committee. In track and field, he was named an NCAA All-American four times, to the All-America Academic team three times and a national runner-up for the CoSIDA First-Team All-America.

The Tommie Award is sponsored by the Division of Student Affairs and is awarded annually to a senior who best represents the ideals of St. Thomas Aquinas through scholarship, leadership and campus involvement.

Catholic Identity
• Co-sponsored and hosted “Catholic Higher Education: Practice and Promise,” a national conference attended by 450 educators from 130 colleges in 1995.
• Established the Center for Catholic Studies, the first such program in the country, in 1993. The center has bachelor’s and master’s degrees and institutes in Catholic Leadership, Catholic Social Thought, and Catholic Thought, Law and Public Policy, and publishes the journal Logos.
• Opened the Bernardi Campus in Rome in 2000.
• Opened the School of Law, with its distinctive mission of “integrating faith and reason in the search for truth,” in 2001.
• Established the Murray Institute, which has provided 700 teachers and principals in archdiocesan schools with tuition-free education specialist and master’s degrees and certificates since 1992.
• Helped to strengthen two affiliated seminaries; enrollment of men preparing for the priesthood at the St. Paul Seminary grew in 2012 to 104, the highest since 1980, and St. John Vianney Seminary enrollment set a record of 165 in 2009.
• Renovated the sanctuary of the Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas.

Community Engagement and Community Service
• Established Business 200, a 40-hour community service requirement for undergraduate business majors, in 1991. More than 11,500 students have donated 460,000 hours at 4,000 different service sites in 27 states and 21 countries.
• Serves as the authorizer of six charter schools in the Twin Cities area; three charter schools first were sponsored by St. Thomas in 2000.
• Established the Interprofessional Center for Counseling and Legal Services, a collaboration among the School of Law, School of Social Work and Graduate School of Professional Psychology, in 2003.
• Created the Jay Phillips Center for Jewish-Christian Learning in 1996 by combining similar programs at St. Thomas and St. John’s; the center was renamed the Jay Phillips Center for Interfaith Learning in 2009.
• Became the home for ThreeSixty Journalism, a program to strengthen the writing skills, civic literacy and college-readiness of teenagers, in 2001.
• Established the Center for Intercultural Learning and Community Engagement in 2008 to replace the Center for Community Partnerships in supporting community and service learning programs.

Facilities
• Initiated 20 major building projects with an investment of $350 million.
• Established a downtown Minneapolis campus with four buildings – Terrence Murphy Hall (1992), Opus Hall (1999), School of Law (2002) and Schulze Hall (2005) – and commissioned the fresco project on virtues in Terrence Murphy Hall.
• Opened three academic buildings in St. Paul – O’Shaughnessy and Owens Science halls in the Frey Science and Engineering Center (1997) and McNeely Hall (2006) – and renovated Albertus Magnus Hall for seven departments, renaming it the John R. Roach Center for the Liberal Arts (2000).
• Improved campus and residential life experiences by opening Morrison Hall (1998), Flynn Hall (2005) and three Anderson buildings: Parking Facility (2009), Athletic and Recreation Complex (2010) and Student Center (2012).
• Reached agreement with the City of St. Paul on a Conditional Use Permit to govern the redevelopment of the two blocks bounded by Summit, Cleveland, Grand and Cretin avenues (2004).
• Dedicated architect Frank Gehry’s renowned Winton Guest House at Gainey Conference Center in Owatonna (2011) after moving the house from its original site on Lake Minnetonka.
• Moved the Child Development Center into its own building at Grand Avenue and Finn Street (2005); it began in Christ Child Hall (1998).

Financial Stewardship
• Raised $765 million in two capital campaigns: Ever Press Forward ($250 million from 24,387 benefactors, concluded in 2001) and Opening Doors ($515 million, 43,359 donors, 2012).
• Grew investments from $122 million to $442 million (+262 percent).
• Increased the number of annual donors from 6,499 in 1991 to 15,419 in 2012, and increased faculty and staff participation in the Annual Fund from 17 percent in 2002 to a record 58 percent in 2012.
• Received $15.5 million in federal funds for planning and construction of the Frey Science and Engineering Center.

Institutional
• Adopted a new mission statement in 2004: “Inspired by Catholic intellectual tradition, the University of St. Thomas educates morally responsible leaders who think critically, act wisely and work skillfully to advance the common good.”
• Began using the tagline, “Challenge Yourself, Change Our World” in 2003, replacing “Come Prepared to Learn, Leave Prepared to Succeed.”
• Set enrollment records of 11,570 (overall) in 2001, 6,336 (undergraduate) in 2012 and 6,154 (graduate) in 2001. Students of color tripled (to 14 percent in 2012) and international students tripled (to 401 in 2012).
• Increased four-year graduation rate from 42 percent to 60 percent and five-year graduation rate from 63 percent to 72 percent.

Honors and Recognition

• Cited as early as 1992 by U.S. News & World Report as one of the top 15 (among 122) regional institutions in the Midwest, and achieved its highest ranking in the national universities category in 2012: No. 113 (among 281).
• Ranked by the Institute for International Education as high as first nationally (in 2005) and regularly in the top 10 among doctoral universities for undergraduate participation in study abroad programs, which more than quadrupled (216 students in 1991-92 to 915 in 2011-12).
• Designated in 2006 by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching as one of 76 U.S. institutions in a new “Community Engagement” classification.
• Received (Dease) the National Catholic Education Association’s highest honor, the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Award, in 2008 for lifelong work as a Catholic educator.

A member of the St. Thomas Fishing Club, Anderson is one of only a few female anglers competing in collegiate bass fishing. It’s a responsibility she doesn’t take lightly and one that gained the attention of Bassmaster Magazine, the publication of the B.A.S.S. Federation, one of the professional competitive bass fishing circuits in the United States.

In an article titled “One woman, 109 men,” Anderson talked about feeling a bit of extra pressure to do well at the national collegiate bass tournament. “I want to make other women proud and show that we can compete with the men – even if there’s not as many of us in the sport.”

The task may seem daunting to the average angler, but Anderson is far from average. Fishing has been part of her life from very early on. She recalls visiting her grandparents, who would take her fishing at local lakes. “I remember being really young, about 3 years old, and we would catch sunnies off the end of the dock,” she said. “I just loved it.” By the time she turned 12, her grandparents built a cabin on Lake Moses near Evansville, Minn., and fishing became a serious hobby – one that sparked her competitive spirit.

“My dad bought a pontoon, and we would just drift across the lake and try to catch as many fish as we could,” she said. The fishing on Lake Moses is pretty good, according to Anderson, which helped fuel some friendly rivalries in her family. “We’d have competitions to see who could catch the most fish. It didn’t matter what kind of fish you caught, you just had to touch it – that was our only rule.”

Michaela Anderson

Anderson always was a competitive person, having grown up playing softball and hockey. She knew she loved to fish but she didn’t know until she was 14 that there was an organized way to compete at it. It was then that she happened to see a bass tournament on TV. “Once I saw that there was a way to go pro at fishing, I started making my parents bring me to sportsman shows so I could talk to people who did this,” she said. “I wanted to know what I needed to do to become a professional angler.”

At such a young age, and perhaps because she is female, Anderson would often receive funny looks from the pros she would approach. But she was undeterred. Once they realized how motivated she was, they all gave her the same recommendation: Find some youth tournaments and start fishing. Living in the land of 10,000 lakes, she discovered that there were plenty of opportunities for aspiring young anglers.

Anderson entered her first youth tournament that same year. Soon after she discovered that if she applied herself, she might start bumping into the kind of people who could give her a break. That happened the day she ran into Mark Fisher during a tournament on Gull Lake. Fisher, who works for Rapala – a fishing lure company in Minnetonka – was digging in a rod locker on his boat when 14-year-old Anderson approached him with a question.

“Here was this young lady in braids asking me about a pretty specific lure. How did she even know about that stuff?” Fisher wondered at the time. “From the moment I met Michaela, she has always been really focused and known a lot about what she’s doing. But that day she had more questions than answers.”

The two became fast friends. As a result, Anderson became somewhat of a protégé of Fisher’s and began learning the ropes of the fishing industry. “We joked about her being my long-lost daughter in some ways,” he said.

By the time she was 16, her friendship with Fisher had turned into a more formal sponsorship by Rapala. Sponsorship is essential for young anglers, particularly in Minnesota, where fishing isn’t a varsity high school sport. She’s also sponsored by Kruger Farms, a sportsman outfitter. “Getting to the different tournaments and paying for equipment and gas gets really expensive,” Anderson said. “In fishing, it’s pretty tough without sponsors. They are really helpful.” They also can make things complicated.

Since she was still participating in high school athletics, Anderson had to be careful about accepting sponsorship support. “I was technically getting paid to fish, but I didn’t want it to get in the way of playing other sports I loved.” Fortunately for her and the many other youth anglers, the state of Minnesota offers exceptions that allow youth fishing participants to be sponsored while maintaining their eligibility. “She alternated between throwing a line and picking up a hockey stick,” Fisher said. “I always told her it was important to focus on school and sports, too, because fishing can be a huge outlet later in life.”

The same year, she won the state B.A.S.S. Federation youth title for her age division and was the first representative from Minnesota to attend the new national youth tournament in Pittsburgh. The trip coincided with her 16th birthday, which she celebrated by fishing alongside pro anglers brought in for the tournament.

While most 16-year-olds are clamoring for their first car, Anderson had her sights set on something much more essential to her goals: a fishing boat, which she received from her parents. “My parents have always been really supportive,” she said. “My mom always tries to come with me when I travel to my tournaments.”

Anderson pilots her bass boat across Lake Minnetonka. (Photo by Mike Ekern ’02)

As fishing began taking up more of her time, Anderson had to learn how to strike a balance among other activities she loved. While attending Centennial High School in Lino Lakes, she maintained good grades and earned enough college credit to start at St. Thomas a full semester ahead of her classmates. She gave up softball in ninth grade but found time to participate on a U19 hockey team, which won the state title when she was a senior.

At 17, she was named the inaugural Sports Person of the Year at the 2011 Minnesota Tournament of Champions. After competing in the national youth tournament for the first time, Anderson began to travel more outside of Minnesota to compete against anglers from other states – not only for tournaments but often for pre-fishing. “What a lot of people don’t understand is the amount of practice you have to do before going to a tournament,” Anderson said.

Like any sport, bass fishing requires a certain amount of strategy. “Fishing in Minnesota is a lot different from almost any other state. We have all natural lakes; other states have manmade lakes,” she said. “A lot of them don’t have any weeds, and the structures and types of fishing are a lot different.” This requires a lot of pre-fishing, which usually is allowed a week before a tournament.

While pre-fishing, Anderson looks for a lot of different things to help build her strategy. She likes to cover as much of the lake as possible and get a sense of what lies in the water below and where the fish are most likely to bite. She’ll often reach out to Fisher for advice the night before a tournament.

“She’s always prepared. She will tell me her plan of attack and talk about the lures she plans to use,” he said. “It has taught her a lot about problem solving. She identifies little battles and challenges and takes them on a bit at a time.”

Now as a St. Thomas student, she majors in marketing and dedicates herself to her studies, understanding that to be successful in the fishing industry she needs to know how to market herself. Anderson also gets to continue fishing through the St. Thomas Fishing Club.

“A lot of people who fish professionally don’t go to college. But college fishing is such a great experience for me,” she said. In 2012, she and teammate Bryan Billadeau participated in the B.A.S.S. Federation national collegiate tournament on the Arkansas River. She didn’t win, but the first-place finisher earned a spot in The Classic, a tournament regarded as the “Super Bowl of bass fishing.” “To have a chance to get into The Classic as a student is a pretty big deal,” she said. “There are some pros who don’t even get to do that.”

She travelled to 10 tournaments in 2012 in states such as Missouri, Illinois, Wisconsin and Arkansas. But the life of an aspiring pro angler, while being a college student, also has its challenges. Many of Anderson’s tournaments outside of Minnesota take place during the school year. “It can be tough, because not many professors think fishing is a good excuse to get out of class – even though its through the St. Thomas Fishing Club,” she said. “It’s not the same as when the varsity basketball team needs to travel for an away game.” However, she doesn’t allow that to make her any less competitive.

In addition to being a fierce competitor, Anderson is also an advocate. “It’s unfortunate that, in the land of 10,000 lakes, fishing isn’t a high school or college sport,” she said, noting that several colleges in other states offer scholarships for the fishing team.

It’s particularly easy to get involved at a young age, according to Anderson, since most youth tournaments don’t require you to have a boat. “You just sign up and then you get to go fishing for a day – and who wouldn’t want to do that?” she said. “There are lots of programs trying to get kids out fishing; we just need to make them more public so more kids can find those opportunities. Especially girls. Everyone should try it at least once.”

Anderson continues to make a splash in the male-dominated sport. According to Fisher, “She has always grasped the barrier breakdown in fishing. I don’t think she is driven more because she is a gal; it’s just her nature to go after things full bore.” In an interview with Ron Schara on Minnesota Bound, Anderson said she doesn’t get caught up in labels but, “I’ve just always wanted to be a fisherman,” she said.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

But you’re just going to have to deal with it. We’re not burglars or pedophiles, missionaries or Hari Krishnas. We’re looking for a place to live. We need a home and we need one now.

It’s the middle of July already and it’s a desert wasteland here in Salt Lake City. For eight days running it’s been over a hundred and the blacktop roads have begun to liquefy – not to mention this three-year drought that a thousand inches of rain won’t fix. The air is so hot and brittle it feels as though my skin might shatter, and beyond that the lease on our apartment is up in six weeks and we just can’t rent again. Jenae and I have been together for six years and have lived in nearly as many apartments. And it’s not that Utah is exactly what we imagine when we say we want a place to call home, but it’ll have to do for now. Still, we have no mover, no moving date, no home loan for that matter, and no home upon which we can make an offer.

It is not, however, for a lack of looking. Since May, Jenae and I have picked up every home buyer’s guide in the grocery store, studied each realty website till our eyes bled, and cased favorable neighborhoods so methodically we could put them back together from memory were they ever to fall apart. Then again, we’ve been driving around in Jenae’s VW Beetle, a yellow poppy waving like a drag queen from the dashboard vase; we are a threat only to good sense, fundamentalists, and long-legged passengers.

Having rented apartments for so long, we usually lived near other renters. We met in Boston where everybody we knew – rich or poor, young or old – lived in apartments, even if they owned them. In the West – and especially Utah – practically everyone we know owns her own house. Fellow waiters, writers, graduate students … everybody. Having just moved there, it made us feel like pariahs. It wasn’t just how we paid for the roof above us, it’s who we were and what we did to our communities: We were renters. An easy mark for the missionaries, for that matter.

When looking for an apartment, we had sought convenience, proximity to bars and grocery stores, off-street parking, soundproofing against the klezmer music that was always wafting around our invariably bohemian neighborhoods, a backyard for the beer-can bowling, a porch for the rocking chairs and a nice corner for the spittoon. We didn’t have to worry about the neighborhood, the neighbors, not even the place itself. It would have been like worrying about the feng shui of a bus station bathroom stall.

It’s utilitarian and temporary. Go ahead, dance with that glass of red wine, smoke those cigars, fry up some catfish, juggle those skunks. You don’t live here. You just rent. To buy a house – or at least to look in earnest for one – is to admit to yourself that you think you’re ready. At the very least, that you should be ready. Time to suck it up and recognize that there’s relatively little pride to be had in the fact that your downstairs neighbors are actually as careful as they promise about cleaning their guns or that you managed to keep a ficus alive from Halloween until Thanksgiving whereupon it shrugged all its leaves ceremonially to the floor. You’re married, you’re getting older, and your parents are looking more and more like the grandparents they are pestering you to make them. It’s getting embarrassing.

Your pathetic renter’s mailbox – the one with three former tenants’ names crossed out – is stuffed with your friends’ baby shower invitations. Just a few months ago, right after my grandmother died, five different people mentioned the word ultrasound to me on the same day. It was both onomatopoetic and devastating.

There’s something dreadful, however, about buying a house. You have to be willing to say to yourself, there go my freewheeling days of touring the Arctic on a kitepowered bobsled. So much for starting up that punk rock band that was finally going to answer The Clash’s call. If I’m hiking the Appalachian Trail, it’s going to be with a Baby Bjorn or not at all. K2 and Katmandu will have to take a bid on somebody else’s death wish. I’m getting old. Forty might be the new thirty, but nobody who’s twenty thinks so. It was time to grow up and settle down.

And, adulthood had just coldcocked us. First my adoptive dad died. And then Gram. Then Jenae’s grandfather. They all were devastating in their own ways, but Gram – her death was utterly unacceptable. All bets were off after that. Our best couplefriends were getting divorced. Doctors detected a strange mass in my mother’s abdomen, and, not to be upstaged, my grandfather started having trouble with – among a raft of other things – his colon. It all seemed to be happening at the same time, on the same day – every hour on the hour.

Between all the birth announcements and death certificates, we couldn’t tell up from down. Even the simplest facts and dates became obscured, irrelevant. All we knew was everyone but us was either dying, getting divorced, or having a kid and we were stuck with our hands in our pockets, waiting for the band to start. Life and death were coming for us, and we could either dig in, settle down and try to defend the home front, or just shake hands and walk quietly away from the line and go our separate ways.

Matthew Batt has been a member of the English Department since 2007. Sugarhouse, his debut novel, was published on June 19. Find out more about Batt at www.matthewcbatt.com.

Q & A with Matt Batt

What are your writing habits?
When I’m actively working on a project, I can pretty much do it anywhere, any time. No incense, stinky candles or fancy berets necessary. I try to abide by the 500-word-a-day rule. That’s like a long email or the equivalent of a couple of Facebook posts. Low stakes, in other words. But it’s long enough that, if you do it every day or so, you can write a book a year. Of course, the editing and revision process isn’t included there, but still. I like how it takes the mysticism out of the process and really just makes it what it is: the daily striving toward a long-term goal.

Has parenthood changed how you write?
I still have lots of other nonparenthood projects I’m developing, but there’s something so profound about parenthood that, for a nonfiction writer like me, I feel supremely compelled to write about. At the same time, knowing that my son isn’t just a hobby or a source of fascination but rather a person who deserves to have his identity unencumbered by my writing … it gives me pause.

Has writing gotten easier for you?
I feel like it’s gotten more goal-oriented and less imitative. I started out writing a lot of watered-down fiction where I was trying to sound like Ray Carver or Hemingway or Andre Dubus. Over the years I feel like now I know what my point of view is and what I sound like on the page, and it’s been extremely liberating if not actually easier.

Do you write anything other than nonfiction?
I started off as a fiction writer and remain an ardent fan of the short story, and I have a lot of ideas for a novel that have been percolating for some time. But, then again, who doesn’t?

Do you find that you gravitate to work similar to your own?
I find that I read about equal amounts fiction and nonfiction, some older/canonical work and a healthy amount of poetry, too. And I don’t know if it’s overly self- congratulatory or just silly or what, but I wish I could find more folks who write like I think I do. What and how that is I don’t guess is really for me to say, but I think the blessing and the curse of how I write is that I don’t feel terribly under any one or two writer’s sway.

Do you have a favorite piece that you’ve written?
I suppose I am pretty pleased with my essay “The Path of Righteousness” about baking sourdough bread and, you know, the fear of parenthood.

Is there something by another writer that you read over and over again?
In an oddly similar way, despite the vast differences in subject matter, I come back almost annually to Jo Anne Beard’s “The Fourth State of Matter” and David Foster Wallace’s “Ticket to the Fair.” They both do an astonishing job of taking a public event and making it deeply personal and vice versa. And, in a lot of ways, I think that’s what the best nonfiction writers are always after. Not just pathetic navel gazing but finding a meaningful and literary way to suture the public and the private.

What are the recurring themes throughout your work?
Without overthinking it (to which I am prone) I would say the fear of/attraction to commitment to huge responsibilities and/or challenges. It seems to me we live in a relatively lowstakes world where we can pretty readily make a life out of not really striving for anything. That sounds pompous, I know, but how often in your daily experiences do you encounter someone who seems to be really driven toward something important and meaningful to them? I do sometimes, but mostly not. I know I am daily tempted to do the same and often just fall right in line. But in my writing and the aspects of my life I like to write about I find myself drawn to extreme commitments and extraordinary challenges. All the better if I’m not particularly equipped or prepared for it, right?!

What are you working on now?
I just finished putting in a new kitchen floor. That was one onerous and long job, and I honestly hope I’ll never do something like that again. As for writing, I’m working on what I hope to be the final piece of a collection of essays called The Enthusiast. The manuscript deals with both personal and cultural obsessions with extremity, whether in the realm of bread baking or toddler-wrangling or more ostensibly exotic or athletic pursuits such as cave diving in Central America or ultra longdistance running. Meanwhile, I pray, no more home work.

Note: The Q&A was conducted on Sept. 18 by Kelly Engebretson for the St. Thomas Newsroom.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

Now add a couple of fierce competitors, roller coaster peaks, blind drop-offs and unanticipated turns.

Welcome to Red Bull’s Crashed Ice competition. The speed alone will make your stomach jolt.

“To be honest, the run went by so fast and I was so focused, I didn’t really take it all in,” said Jon Palmeri ’07, who first raced in the Crashed Ice world championship event in St. Paul last winter. He placed seventh among all the U.S. competitors in 2012 and competed again in January 2013. Craig Kaufman ’08 also raced in the 2012 event.

Officially known as ice cross downhill, the sport is similar to downhill skiing. But on ice.

The 400-meter track began at the Cathedral of St. Paul. Gravity propels the competitors down Cathedral hill, accelerating through drops as high as 31 feet before completing the quarter-mile-long track near the intersection of Kellogg Boulevard and Interstate 35E.

Red Bull has hosted the championship series since 2001, when the sport originally gained popularity in Stockholm, Sweden. The world championship has traveled to other countries in Europe and first came to the United States in 2003 in Duluth.

As the name “Crashed Ice” denotes, there are plenty of crashes on every run. The athletes are outfitted in typical hockey gear – helmet, gloves, jersey and hockey pads – and race four at a time down the track. But unlike hockey, checking and any intentional physical contact are not allowed, and athletes may be disqualified.

Jon Palmeri

Palmeri decided to enter the race after a friend showed him photos from his participation in Canada in 2011.

After one of his practice runs, Palmeri observed, “The trickiest part of the track, in my opinion, was the double jump, which was taking victims run after run. I had a few crashes there and also one high-speed crash on a wall where I actually put my skate through the boards. The odd part was I didn’t get stuck. The skate punched a hole in the plastic boards and my momentum kept me moving down the next icy ramp.”

After qualifying in Duluth in fall 2011, Palmeri then competed on the big track in St. Paul in January 2012. There were two rounds of timed speed tests on the course. The top 64 of the 128 athletes in both rounds advanced to the elimination round.

Most of the U.S. participants had never experienced skating down an ice track filled with obstacles. The first time was a memorable experience for Kaufman.

“When I got to the top of the starting ramp, I remember looking down and seeing what seemed like a never ending sea of people. It was loud with everyone cheering and the music blaring. I looked to my left and saw three of my competitors who looked very focused and intense. My nerves really kicked in.”

Because competitors don’t have a track to practice on during the weeks leading up to the competition, there wasn’t much training involved. For his first competition, Palmeri just intensified his workout routine and practiced his skating skills more frequently.

Having a background in other extreme sports is perhaps the best way an athlete can anticipate an event like Red Bull’s Crashed Ice. Some of the world championship participants have competed at the X-Games in skiing or snowboarding. One was an Olympic-bound speed skater, and some of the international competitors are bandy players.

Palmeri’s experience competing in extreme sports gave him confidence heading into the race. “I grew up mainly playing hockey but I also liked BMX racing in the summer, and I’ve also done motocross racing, skiing and snowboarding,” Palmeri said. “They’re very similar to Crashed Ice in how you approach obstacles while going at high speeds.  It takes a little of the fear factor out of it for me.”

Palmeri, from St. Paul, played hockey through high school, but once he got to college he had to make a decision that many student-athletes face: Do I keep playing my sport?

“I played hockey very competitively and then had opportunities to play further, but I just wanted to go to school and learn, graduate, work and be done,” Palmeri said.

Fortunately, hockey remained an important part of his life. Palmeri’s college roommate, Brett Lawler ’08, along with Rian Cleary ’08, founded the St. Thomas club hockey team in 2006. Palmeri joined the team and found a good balance between studying and playing his favorite sport. In the summers, Palmeri played in the Minnesota Pro 4- on-4 league, where he practiced with NHL, Division I, and European professional players.

Like Palmeri, Kaufman played hockey growing up, but he continued playing at the collegiate level on St. Thomas’ varisty team from 2005 to 2007. It’s no surprise that both
have found their hockey background helpful in competing in the Crashed Ice event.

One subtle difference between the two sports is the skates. Ice cross downhill competitors use bandy blades which offer more stability during the downhill run. Bandy combines elements of hockey and soccer, and is quite popular in Europe and Russia.

The added stability of the bandy blades were needed at this year’s Crashed Ice event in St. Paul, where the starting gate was 48 feet high – a full 12 feet higher than last year’s
course.

Last year more than 80,000 hardy spectators attended the Crashed Ice event in St. Paul. Given that the NHL lockout left many Wild hockey fans without much to do this fall and early winter, the city of St. Paul is hoping for an even larger turnout this year.

For Palmeri and Kaufman, the Crashed Ice competition will extend their passion for high-speed competition and winter sports – two things Minnesotans are eager to support.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

Baseball players hoisted Dennis Denning above their heads in 2009, and he was delighted but then horrified that they would drop him. Steve Fritz bear-hugged basketball players in 2011 and hours later still wore the remnants of a net they cut down. Thanh Pham crouched on the sidelines last November with a hand to his eyes to wipe away tears as his volleyball players celebrated.

Steve Fritz, championship net around his neck, hugs Teddy Archer March 19, 2011 after the men’s basketball team took first place in the nation. (Photo by Mike Ekern ’02)

The images remain indelible, and they should. The moments defined excellence. They rewarded hard and selfless work. They generated recognition. They opened doors.

And perhaps most importantly, they engendered pride. They gave people, even casual observers, a chance to simply say, “We’re No. 1.”

Everybody likes to be No. 1. Few get the opportunity, and sometimes things don’t work out. As much success as St. Thomas has had in winning 15 national championships in eight different NCAA Division III sports, second only to Williams College’s nine champion sports, the Tommies also have experienced their share of painful defeats. Football was the most recent national runner-up, one of 12 second place finishes (also by teams in baseball, softball, men’s hockey, women’s cross country and women’s outdoor track).

Pham and Fritz believe national championships are important for a team, a program and an institution.

A team? “It’s validation,” said Pham, whose Tommies lost first-round matches in the 2010 and 2011 national tournaments but won the 2012 crown in five sets after trailing No. 1 Calvin 0-2. “Work hard and good things will happen. You can be down, but don’t lose faith. There’s always a solution; you just have to find it. That this team won speaks volumes to its character, its resilience and its desire.”

A program? “It gives you a certain amount of status,” said Fritz, athletic director since 1992, who retired after 31 years as men’s basketball coach when the Tommies won the 2011 title. “When you recruit, people know you have a good program. It opens doors.”

Tommie baseball players hoist their trophy and their head coach, Dennis Denning, onto their shoulders following a victory over Wooster College May 26, 2009 to take the national title. (Photo by Mike Ekern ’02)

An institution? “It draws attention to St. Thomas in a positive manner – in how prospective students will look at us, in how students here will share in our joy, and in how our alumni can be very proud of their school,” Pham said.

Fritz agrees and likes to call sports “a front porch.” The success of any given team “becomes part of the success of the entire institution,” he said. “It’s very visible” and – at a time when higher education faces growing criticism for costs and relevance – “it’s good news.”

Glenn Caruso knows all of that as he, too, pursues a national title. Two days before his football team played Mount Union, he spoke with his players as they sat on a Virginia field after practice.

“Look around,” he said. “This is where we will play for the national championship. There are 238 teams (in Division III), and only two are left. You are one of them.”

The Tommies didn’t quite get to the top in that game. But I have no doubt they will in the future, and I can hardly wait to see the look on Caruso’s face. It will be indelible.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

But who’s counting, you ask?

Folks who work in the Anderson Student Center are. Did you know that in the first year of the ASC, 421 posters were displayed in the atrium, The Loft sold 6,008 smoothies, and the Bowling center rented 1,680 pairs of shoes? In addition, 5,728 meetings and 1,766 events – in Bowling, Dance, James B. Woulfe Alumni Hall, Scooter’s, Campus Way and Monahan Plaza – were held in the ASC’s first year?

In case those numbers haven’t given you enough food for thought, consider the meals and customers served in the past year at various Anderson Student Center venues:

• The View: 453,907 meals served
• T’s: 177,206 customers served
• Scooter’s: 69,200 customers served
• Summit Marketplace: 185,641 customers served
• The Loft: 6,008 smoothies
• The Loft: 10,442 coffees

(Food for Thought on the Minneapolis campus, by the way, has served 139,744 customers in the past year.)

Other food items, especially french fries and pizza, also were big-sellers in the student center. By the numbers:

T’s

• Breakfast sandwiches: 8,414
• Chipotle chicken sandwiches: 8,254
• French fries: 12,550 orders

Scooter’s

• Pizzas: 7,194

Summit Marketplace

• Candy: 8,794
• Naked juice: 5,000

You also can do the math at the Tommie Shop. The store sold 3,248 of its best-selling T-shirt – a two-line straight T-shirt made in the United States and available in purple, white or oxford gray, and screened-printed University of St. Thomas across the front.

The Tommie Shop also reports these top sellers:

• Tackle twill hoodies: 1,345
• Lanyards: 1,235
• St. Thomas Christmas ball ornaments: 296
• Nike Caps: 316
• Pottery mugs: 398
• Volleyball national championship T-shirts: 196
• Football hoodies: 172
• Football playoff T-shirts: 425

And 11,000 big, purple plastic Tommie bags to carry it all.

“The Tommie Shop’s first year has been just amazing with the amount of traffic we are seeing … location, location, location!” noted Colleen Utecht. “The return of alumni checking out the new building and the success of all the winning sports teams sure helped the apparel sales without a doubt. Last summer we also saw a high volume of sales from the summer sport camp attendees.”

Utecht also reported that the Tommie Shop had a record-number-sales day for Family Weekend, serving 860 customers, as well as at homecoming, serving 597 customers; in addition, she reports record-breaking sales for freshman orientation groups.

“They rocked their purple pride,” Utecht said.

“My father used to say to us kids, ‘Reach for the stars, and if you end up at the moon, you’ll be happy,’” she said. “We were disciplined, and we pushed each other. We knew that nothing was beyond our reach if we worked hard enough.”

And work hard is what Short always has done – as a young associate in a big law firm, as a judge on the Minnesota Court of Appeals, as managing partner of the same law firm and now as chief legal officer for UnitedHealth Group.

But she waves off praise from peers and credits Marion and the late Robert Short with providing an invaluable foundation for her and her six siblings, four of whom also have law degrees.

“There was no larger influence in my life than my parents,” she said. “They instilled a sense of family and faith and discipline. I credit any modicum of success to them.”

Short grew up in Edina. Her dad owned several businesses, including a trucking company, the Leamington Hotel, the Minneapolis (now Los Angeles) Lakers and the Washington Senators (now Texas Rangers), and he ran for the U.S. Senate in 1978.

“As children we were always involved with my father and his cronies,” she said. “It didn’t make any difference if you were 10 or 16, you would sit and listen to or talk about current issues. Those experiences really made us think.”

Marion Short remembers her daughter as the ultimate planner and “the most-organized person in the world.” When the Shorts moved during Marianne’s childhood, “she started planning neighborhood parties to meet the other kids,” Marion said. “You can be a success at anything if you’re a take-charge person, and that was Marianne.”

As a high school student at Visitation in Mendota Heights, she was founding editor of First Edition, the school newspaper. She covered the 1968 presidential election party at the Leamington for Hubert Humphrey, a family friend, who lost a close race to Richard Nixon.

“I just walked around and took notes like a regular reporter might do, on the atmosphere and mood,” she said. “It was exciting, but there was sadness, too,” and her story was headlined, “The Last Hurrah of HHH.”

Short enrolled at Newton College of the Sacred Heart in Boston at the encouragement of Visitation’s Sister Perone Marie, who had taught there during her novice years. Short majored in political science and philosophy, graduated in 1973 and earned a law degree three years later from Boston College. She returned home to spend 18 months as a state assistant attorney general before moving to Dorsey & Whitney, a Minneapolis-based law firm.

“I wanted to learn from the best on how to prepare for and try cases,” she said. “The best thing about (Dorsey & Whitney) is the depth in all practice groups and the expertise within the walls. I could walk down the hall and get help on just about anything.”

Short found her childhood experiences invaluable, too, as she matured in the job and handled banking, securities and employment law cases.

“I always wanted to be a litigator,” she said. “I liked the courtroom drama and the challenge of putting together a case for a jury. Part of that was my upbringing with my siblings, battling things out at the dining room table. They taught me well, too.”

Gov. Rudy Perpich appointed Short, at age 37, to the Minnesota Court of Appeals in 1988. She decided to take the job because she felt it would provide her with a regular work schedule and a better work-family balance as the mother of two young sons.

“I had some hesitation,” she said. “I worried it might be like going to study hall because it would be too quiet. The biggest surprise was no busy signal on my phone, where I could put people on hold. I thought, ‘How will I ever work here?’ I discovered that people don’t call judges; rather, you walk down the hall for conversation with your colleagues.”

Short grew to love the job, writing 900 opinions in 12 years, and she came to appreciate the impact that the court has on people’s lives. “You don’t take that responsibility lightly,” she said.

But as she turned 50 and her sons headed to college and high school, she felt a need for change and returned to Dorsey & Whitney in 2000. Her work focused on health care law, with clients such as Medica, UnitedHealth and Blue Cross Blue Shield.

“Quite honestly, she was a stronger lawyer when she came back,” said Bill Berens, a 1975 St. Thomas alumnus with Dorsey & Whitney since 1978. “Her experience on the bench gave her insight into the practice of the firm, and from a different perspective.”

Seven years later, Short faced another big decision – whether to become the first woman to serve as managing partner of Dorsey & Whitney, then Minnesota’s largest firm with 600 attorneys in 19 offices around the world.

“It was a huge honor to be asked, but I didn’t want to give up my practice,” she said. She worked out a blended schedule – two-thirds management and one-third practice – and enjoyed it because “it kept me relevant to clients. Part of the job was managing and making strategic decisions on the direction of the firm, but I also needed to be responsive to clients.”

Much of Short’s tenure came during the recession, which forced her to deal with cost-cutting issues and adding value to services provided to clients. Another opportunity
involved the constant need to nurture attorneys and strengthen their engagement to private practice.

“Our talent walks out the door every night, and we have to make certain they come back every day,” she said. “Practices need to connect the next generation of lawyers to the firm and to our clients.”

Short had special appreciation for Dorsey & Whitney’s culture and three core values: clients (“we are committed to them”), colleagues (“we like and respect each other”) and community (“we give back”).

She has long given back personally through her service on numerous boards, including Boston College, where she has been a trustee on and off since 1985 and today is chair of the Student Life Committee. Father William Leahy, president since 1996, values her balance.

“That comes out of her training as a lawyer and jurist,” he said, “but there truly is a judiciousness in her observations and judgments. She’s a voice of wisdom.”

As satisfied as Short was at Dorsey & Whitney, she accepted an offer to join UnitedHealth as its chief legal officer in January. She was reluctant to leave the firm but believed it was time to try something different.

“You always hate to leave a group you’ve worked with for so long – the people who helped you grow as a lawyer and a leader,” she said. “Not that you ever get comfortable with any job, but there is something about new opportunities that keeps you fresh and takes you out of your comfort zone.”

Along the way, she said, she still finds herself following her dad’s advice. “I don’t know if it’s the stars or the moons,” she said, “but I’m still reaching.”

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

The picture is signed “Havel,” with a heart next to his signature.

Father Dennis Dease

The photo was a gift from the former president, author, poet and playwright who led his country’s “Velvet Revolution” and visited St. Thomas in 1999 for the inauguration of the Vaclav Havel Civil Society Symposium. Havel, who died in 2011, is a symbol of civility, and what can be accomplished through it, even under the most repressive conditions.

Perhaps I noticed his picture because our country had concluded another election season, and because I had sent the following message to St. Thomas administrators: “Thank you for the great work you did over the past several months to promote an atmosphere of civility and respect during a particularly contentious and emotional election season. No matter whom you supported, we all won. I’m proud of the leadership you displayed, and I’m proud of our students, faculty and staff.”

I am proud of St. Thomas for many reasons, and one that stands out is the culture of civility that has developed here and mostly prevails, even in the most ardent, heated debates.

In an address I gave on campus in 1998, I shared a deeply held personal belief: “By its practice of civility a society reflects the value it places on the human person and perhaps even on human life itself.” And I raised a question: “Could it be that a community that promotes civility in so doing also sustains its commitment to civil and human rights?”

I’ve long believed that civility is more than manners. It is a way of showing love and respect for our neighbor. As Stephen Carter wrote in his 1998 book, Civility: Manner, Morals, and the Etiquette of Democracy, “It is morally better to be civil than to be uncivil.”

Again, as I said in my speech: “If we have abandoned politeness and have become a harsher nation in the way we deal with one another in the give and take of everyday life, then should we be surprised if this callousness be also found in the way we value life itself?”

I also asked: “Should a Catholic university prize courtesy? Can an urban university model ‘urbanity’? Is it too much to hope that the liberal arts would inspire gentility and humanism?” As I said then and believe today, “It is indeed proper and appropriate for a Catholic, liberal arts, and urban university both to model and to teach civility.”

I believe St. Thomas has done that. And I believe this university’s faith dimension has played a key role in creating a truly genuine culture of civility. The connection between grace and graciousness was recognized by the Catholic, French-born, British writer and poet, Hilaire Belloc, when he wrote in “Courtesy,”

Of courtesy, it is much less
Than courage of heart or holiness,
Yet in my walks it seems to me
That the Grace of God is in courtesy.

A chance encounter with a photograph of Havel has reminded me that he is not the only one straining to catch some inspiration from an angel. It’s happening right here at St. Thomas.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

HOLLAND, Mich. — Down two sets at one point and playing in front of the largest crowd to ever see an NCAA Division III volleyball championship match, the St. Thomas Tommies staged an improbable comeback to defeat Calvin (Mich.) College, 13-25, 17-25, 25-18, 25-16, 15-9, Saturday night to win the program’s national championship.

The Tommies, who won their last 35 matches in a row, became the first team from the Minnesota Intercollegiate Athletic Conference to win the national championship in volleyball. They finished the year 40-1, while the Knights, champions of the Michigan Intercollegiate Athletic Association, finished at 33-3.

The Tommies, the first MIAC team ever to reach the NCAA title match, closed out an 8-0 postseason run over the last 17 days with its fifth notable comeback victory.

Volleyball is the eighth different sport in which St. Thomas has won a national team title, joining men’s and women’s basketball; men’s and women’s cross country; baseball; softball and men’s indoor track. It’s the fifth NCAA team title by a Tommie team in the last 10 years.

The Tommies’ attack percentage rose with each set, going from .103 in the first set to .245 in the third, .267 in the fourth and .389 in the deciding set.

Greenfield led St. Thomas with 14 kills and 17 digs, while Foley added 14 kills and seven blocks. Sara Atkinson had 12 kills and a hitting percentage of .455, while libero Kaiti Wachter had 19 digs.

Record Crowd

The match was played in front of 3,517 fans, the vast majority of them from Calvin, whose campus is less than 40 miles from Hope College’s DeVos Fieldhouse. The previous attendance record for a national championship match was 3,423 in 1991, when Washington University-St. Louis defeated UC-San Diego for the Division III title in St. Louis, Mo.

“To be down two sets, in that environment, and to be able to pull out the win speaks volumes about our girls and how much they wanted it,” St. Thomas coach Thanh Pham said. “They’re just fighters. They fought through it. I couldn’t be more proud.”

The Knights, who were seeking their second national championship in three years, dominated the first two sets with their powerful hitting and blocking. The Knights hit .458 in the first set and .467 in the second set, led by sophomore middle hitter Emily Crowe, who had nine kills in 10 attempts for a .900 hitting percentage.

But the tide started to turn in the third set. With junior McKenna Reagan coming off the bench to provide a spark, the Tommies jumped out to a 9-4 lead. Calvin whittled the lead down to 16-15 on a kill by Maggie Kamp, but back-to-back kills by Reagan ignited a six-point run that helped St. Thomas clinch the set.

“We call her ‘Captain Positive,’” Pham said of Reagan, who had five of her seven kills in the third set. “No matter what happens, she’s always saying ‘good job,’ ‘we’ll get the next one,’ (or) ‘come on’. She is really ultra-competitive, and I think that helped raise the level of competitiveness of our team and helped calm us down.”

Momentum Turn

The Tommies continued their surge in the fourth set, as Jill Greenfield, the tournament’s Most Outstanding Player, and All-American Kelly Foley consistently found holes in the Knights’ defense. Foley’s kill sealed the set and extended the match to a fifth set, the first five-set match to decide the national title since 2007.

St. Thomas blockers’ came up big early in the deciding set, as two blocks by Mackenzie Piechowski and another by Foley helped the Tommies jump in front 9-5. Calvin mounted one final run, pulling to within 11-9 on a kill by national Player of the Year Lizzie Kamp.

But a Greenfield kill, followed by back-to-back kills by Paige Brimeyer, extended the lead to 14-9. Foley and Greenfield then teamed up for a block for the championship-clinching point.

“I thought we were in the right mentality coming out, and I think we served very aggressively. We stayed in system,” Calvin coach Amber Warners said. “We talked throughout the tournament about staying in the present moment. I don’t really have an explanation (for what happened after the second set) … St. Thomas kicked it in, started serving more aggressively and stayed in system more.”

The Tommies’ attack percentage rose with each set, going from .103 in the first set to .245 in the third, .267 in the fourth and .389 in the deciding set.

Greenfield led St. Thomas with 14 kills and 17 digs, while Foley added 14 kills and seven blocks. Sara Atkinson had 12 kills and a hitting percentage of .455, while libero Kaiti Wachter had 19 digs.

Crowe led Calvin with 14 kills and a hitting percentage of .407 for the match, while Lizzie Kamp added 12 kills and 18 digs, and Maggie Kamp had 12 kills. All-American Megan Rietema dished out 45 assists while Rebecca Ratkov had eight blocks.

Greenfield was joined on the All-Tournament Team by Atkinson, Wachter, Lizzie Kamp, Crowe and Christopher Newport’s Abby Hogge.

St. Thomas magazine was given the gold award for Best Alumni/Institution Magazine (3,000 to 9,999 full-time students). Judges considered the overall strength of the writing, design, photography and editorial vision of all magazines in this category. The magazine received the silver award in this category in 2009, and the bronze in 2008. Past gold winners in the Best Alumni/Institution Magazine category include the University of Dayton, St. Olaf College and Indiana State University.

St. Thomas magazine is published three times a year by University Relations, and is staffed by Brian Brown (senior editor), Patty Petersen (managing editor), Mike Ekern (director of photography), Sara Klomp (designer), Doug Hennes, Bill Kirchgessner and Nadine Friederichs.

Ekern’s image of Chandran Duffy took home a gold in the sports category.

Photographer Mike Ekern was recognized for his individual work in the magazine, receiving two gold and one silver award for Excellence in Photography. Ekern’s photo of John Kascht (fall 2011) received the gold in the People and Portraits category. Ekern also won gold in the Sports category for his action shot of softball player Chandran Duffy sliding into home (fall 2011). He received a silver for his photo essay of artifacts of Ireland Hall in the winter 2012 issue.

Writing in the Margins, the English Department newsletter, received a Bronze Award for Best Tabloid/Newsletter for External Audiences.

The Council for Advancement and Support of Education will present the awards in Chicago on Dec. 10. District V includes colleges and universities in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Ohio.

Those years shaped his life, however, and enabled him to serve as an educated man in business management and raise eight children with my mom in a household that put a premium on education. When he retired, he became a permanent deacon and worked in faith instruction and pastoral care of the sick.

My dad comes to mind again as I now look back on our Opening Doors capital campaign, which soon will conclude. I am confident we will surpass our $500 million goal by the time of our celebratory events on Oct. 17 and 18.

The campaign has been a daunting challenge. Months after announcing Opening Doors, the worst economic times since the Great Depression arrived, and more than one person asked me if we would even come close to our goal. I remembered my father’s experience, and I hoped we would have the wherewithal to achieve our goal and to meet the needs of students who would be more dependent on financial aid than ever before.

To our good fortune, any lingering doubts always were swept away when I saw in action people like Lee and Penny Anderson, the Janicke sisters, the Class of 2010, Mary Dillon and 40,000 other donors thankful for the presence of St. Thomas in their lives.

Lee and Penny stood with me before reporters five years ago to announce their $60 million gift. Those funds enabled the construction of a student center, an athletic and recreation complex and a parking ramp – three projects that truly have transformed our St. Paul campus. Lee and Penny aren’t alumni of St. Thomas, but they gave because they were moved by the impact that our mission, spirituality, traditions and character have had on students’ lives.

All six Janicke sisters – Lisa, Jena, Angela, Sarah, Rebecca and Deborah – and their mom received St. Thomas degrees between 1993 and 2004. Their dad died in the early 1990s and finances got tight, but each daughter was able to pursue a St. Thomas education because of the generosity of scholarship donors. The sisters joined forces several years ago to establish the Alfred and Janet Janicke Endowment Fund to help other students who have lost a parent.

The Class of 2010 also had scholarships on its mind. A senior class gift is a longstanding tradition at St. Thomas, and that year’s graduates established an endowed scholarship to enable students to participate in our VISION (Volunteers in Service Internationally or Nationally) program. More than 720 seniors (65 percent) made a donation, ensuring that VISION will continue to thrive.

Mary graduated from St. Thomas in 2002 and has established an annual scholarship in the name of her parents, Richard and Patricia Dillon. They fervently believed in the value and importance of a college education, even though she didn’t go back to school and receive her degree until she was in her 30s. She received scholarships, and she knew that her parents’ scholarship would give other deserving students the same opportunity she had.

I could go on and on with stories like these – after all, we have 40,000 Opening Doors donors! – but I think you get my point. People of all ages, backgrounds and means have made gifts large and small, and the result is a stronger university better able to fulfill its mission. Each gift reflects a commitment, and for that I conclude with two simple but powerful words:

Thank you!

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

Without missing a beat, he responded, “First, you focus on the Iowa caucuses.”

Everyone is a comedian, even in Washington. I was there on serious business, though: Trying to convince the Obama administration to consider a more vigorous use of the pardon power. It’s an idea I have pursued at the wholesale level, through scholarship and meetings like that one, and at retail, through the sentence commutation clinic we began in August 2011 at the University of St. Thomas School of Law. It’s a project that, in just one year, has taken my students and me on a fascinating tour, from the dusty federal prison in Victorville, Calif., to the power corridors of the nation’s Capitol.

When we think about the pardon power, we tend to remember its troubling use in the recent past – President Ford’s pre-emptive pardon of President Nixon, the disastrous clemency President Clinton gave to Marc Rich, or (at the state level) the somewhat bizarre use of the pardon power by Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour as he left office. What these examples obscure is the rich and deep history of the pardon power in American life. George Washington was the first president to use it, when he showed mercy to the leaders of the Whisky Rebellion. President Harding pardoned his political opponent, Eugene Debs, and President Truman granted clemency to Puerto Rican nationalists who tried to kill him. The pardon power, promoted by Alexander Hamilton and beloved by Abraham Lincoln, should be much more than a footnote to the constitution.

Moreover, and importantly to Christian scholars such as myself, the pardon power is one of the few clear embodiments of Christian virtue in the Constitution. Christ, after all, effectively pardoned the adulteress described in John 8, and was himself denied clemency by Pontius Pilate. As Hamilton recognized in the Federalist Papers (No. 74), the core value of the pardon power is nothing less than mercy. That constitutional power of the president includes two primary methods to dispense such mercy: the ability to remove a conviction entirely (a pardon) or to simply shorten a sentence (a commutation). It is unchecked, unreviewable and absolute.

It’s a broad and bold project, then, to resuscitate this desecrated clause. My students at St. Thomas are working to do exactly that.

One of the real strengths of St. Thomas’ law school is our clinical program, which gives our students not only real-life experience but also a skill set they will use in practice. One crucial skill for attorneys, for example, is developing the narrative of a client’s experience, and it is that ability which lies at the heart of our new clinic on federal commutation. In the clinic, we appeal to the president to shorten the sentences of our clients by telling their stories through a formal petition.

Getting to that story often is difficult. By definition, our clients are incarcerated, often in far-off corners of the nation. That’s also how two St. Thomas students, Nancy Ly ’12 J.D. and Vicky Wanta ’12 J.D., ended up in Victorville, Calif., trying to get into prison to visit their client.

Nancy Ly (Photo by Mike Ekern ’02)

Breaking out of prison is supposed to be difficult, but getting in can be pretty tough, too. One of the things I want my students to experience is the often petty bureaucracy that is involved in the world of criminal law. Ly and Wanta arrived in Victorville and first had to find the right prison – there is a complex of facilities there, for different types of offenders, and for men and women. After one miss, they found the right facility (for low-risk women) and struggled to finesse the process of getting in to see their client. After several hours they succeeded and met Jacquelynne Sutton, whose story they would tell.

That story started with Sutton’s life in the prison, which was a combination of depressing details and surprising opportunities. There was the awful distance from her family, many of whom remain in Minnesota. On the other hand, the prison allowed Sutton to become a skilled beautician and even to work on and drive vehicles being prepared for the Border Patrol. As they reported back from Victorville on what they were learning, I noticed that my two students were experiencing surprise after surprise as they entered this new world.

During their two days visiting with Sutton, her story became real and whole. She had received a 10-year sentence for involvement in a narcotics case involving more than 100 grams of crack cocaine. That, of course, is never the whole story, though. Ly and Wanta learned about Sutton’s family, about her work, and about the complexity of her involvement with the crime. Simple things became complex, and some things that at first appeared complex were revealed as simple.

When Ly and Wanta returned, they debriefed the other members of the sentence commutation clinic on what they had learned. The story was fascinating, and the conclusion was clear: there was no problem being solved, no societal advantage gained, by the lengthy incarceration imposed on their client. Having made their report and discussed the options going forward with their colleagues, they then turned to the task at hand: petitioning Barack Obama to commute the sentence. Whether they will succeed is an open question – petitions take months to process – but the petition was masterful, particularly in the way that it wove the strands of Sutton’s life together in a way that was sympathetic, compelling and true.

Jacquelynne Sutton

The last few sentences of the petition reflect not only their emphasis as advocates on rehabilitation, but their own perspective on their client: “She knows what she did wrong in the past and has learned how to do better in the future. [She] asks for this commutation so she can be with her children, restart her life, and prove to society that she is not only deserving of this second chance but that she is more than the worst thing she has ever done.”

Their client may not get the benefit of commutation; few do. But Sutton will always be assured that her story is known. Sutton herself described the importance of this better than I can in an entry she wrote for a contest at Yale Law School:

“I laid in bed every night praying that Professor Osler would choose my case. Three months passed and I received a letter from Vicky Wanta and Nancy Ly, informing me my case had been chosen. I almost passed out at mail call. I was flabbergasted.

“I carefully read over the letter five times, making sure I didn’t miss anything. Nancy and Vicky were law students from the University of St. Thomas, a college I was familiar with. As a child, I always wanted to go there after participating in the National Youth Sports Program. I filled out my retainer information, which asked for absolutely nothing but my signature. I realize anyone can fill out a petition, but for me the feeling was much deeper. It meant something to be picked out of the other individuals; it meant something to me that someone actually wanted to help me, that somebody I didn’t know cared.”

Sutton was right; Ly and Wanta did care.

Vicky Wanta (Photo by Mike Ekern ’02)

The work of St. Thomas students in the clinic has led to other important opportunities. In April, the St. Thomas Law Journal hosted a symposium on the topic of commutations, which was the first U.S. academic conference on the issue in 10 years. It gathered virtually all of the people who study the issue, along with judges, a commutation recipient and an award-winning journalist, Dafna Linzer (who had previously written about our clinic in the Washington Post). The conference spurred further activity to push for change in the field of clemency. Specifically, a month later the American Constitution Society and the Open Society Foundation, along with U.S. Rep. Bobby Scott of Virginia, hosted expert testimony in the halls of Congress. I was one of the speakers and brought along St. Thomas student Clay Harris to help out with my work in the Capitol. Like Ly and Wanta, Harris did a superb job of addressing issues at a national level in a way that lives out the mission of the law school.

Part of the discussion at that hearing was an article I had written a year earlier, suggesting that a troubling sentencing issue be addressed through commutation in the same way that President Ford dealt with draft evaders; specifically, Congress had (in 2010) drastically lowered sentences for certain crack offenses, but had not made them retroactive – meaning that people such as Sutton would not get the benefit of the change. I was suggesting that the Ford model be used to equalize those sentences to the levels described in the new law.

That idea caught the imagination of people in Washington, and soon I returned twice to meet with President Obama’s domestic policy advisers about the idea. What started with our little clinic was now being presented, in purple St. Thomas folders, to those who could change the world for people such as Jacquelynne Sutton.

The second meeting in Washington was held in the vice president’s ceremonial office, a grand space that resembles nothing so much as a small gallery in an art museum. A portrait of Teddy Roosevelt looks down from one end, and a grand fireplace dominates the other. The long, oval table was topped with discreet notes describing its age and fragility. It is a space that creates an air of proper solemnity.

With her commutation petition safely delivered to Washington, Sutton continued to compose her essay for the Yale Law School contest. Sutton describes what our students are capable of and reflects on the moment when her case was chosen:

“When I received a copy of the completed petition, where there was an overview from Nancy and Vicky, tears came from my eyes. After coming to prison and accepting a 10-year sentence, it’s hard to think that there was any good left within myself. I had completely forgotten about all my goals and the person I wanted to be, because of the negative lifestyle I had enrolled myself in.

“I remain in contact with Nancy Ly and Vicky Wanta. Not only did they do a wonderful job putting together my petition, they’ve also helped me realize just how far I’ve actually come from the person I used to be. … I feel I’ve been granted a second chance at life, a new beginning, regardless if I win or lose my petition.”

As a teacher, that is just about as good as it gets. The harsh law under which Sutton was sentenced may not be solving a problem, but Ly and Wanta, through hard work and good hearts, just might.

About the Author: Mark Osler is a professor at the School of Law. Osler is a former federal prosecutor whose work often addresses the problems of inflexibility in sentencing and corrections.

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

He was approached by a group of young men who struck up a conversation about the pants he was wearing. The group was very complimentary to him and began to take an apparent closer interest, pulling at the cuffs and examining the material. It was clear their motives were not to praise his fashion sensibility. As Rheinberger strategized his next move, it was too late. His pass­port had been taken and would be held hostage until he paid a ransom to get it back.

A situation like this might rattle the typical American traveling abroad, but Rheinberger remained cool. Promising payment, he coaxed the thieves back to a location near his hotel – and its security – where he could safely make an exchange. In the end, he lost a few dollars but ultimately got his passport back.

While the experience was far from enjoyable, it was one he was able to take in stride as a seasoned globe-trotter. Rheinberger has set foot in every country in the world – all 196 of them. And the nearly 40-year journey has taught him many lessons, not the least of which is how to get out of a sticky situation.

Rheinberger’s first curiosity with travel began when he was a child. He recalls long road trips with his parents while growing up during the ’50s and ’60s, a time when it was fashionable to travel by car and see the country. By the age of 18, he had visited 46 states.

“I really liked the momentum of the car. Everywhere I looked, there was something new to see,” he said. “I liked the idea of the unknown – the illusion of excitement visiting places I’d never seen before.”

But as he grew, Rheinberger understood there was so much more to see. “It’s like a dog chasing the car – if I ran and didn’t catch it, there was always something else.”

A planner from the start

As a student at St. Thomas in the late 1960s, Rheinberger spent a lot of time thinking about his future. He allowed himself to be exposed to the differing ideas of his classmates and professors; his own ideas began to develop as a result. Among them was the idea to complete his education – which he did in short order. He earned his undergraduate degree from St. Thomas in 33 months with a double major in history and political science.

As his ideas continued to grow, he created a list of life goals that if accomplished could lead him to a fulfilled life. It included everything from com­munity involvement to furthering his education. (Today, he holds six degrees, including an M.B.A. from St. Thomas.) It also included the goal of seeing the world through frequent travel, which he describes as one of his “cardinal desires in life.”

At first, Rheinberger simply aspired to see new places and experience new things. He didn’t set out to visit every country, but a friend helped open his mind to the possibility. On a whim, the pair rented a car and drove non­stop from St. Paul to Alaska and back in a week. “He was a good travel companion at the time because he had availability, a desire to see the world – and a credit card,” Rheinberger said. They continued to travel together and made their first trip across an ocean to Australia in 1978.

Even though he had been to Canada and Mexico, Rheinberger credits the Australia trip as his first true international experience. It also was the first trip in a yearlong schedule that brought him to three additional continents.

Six months after returning from Australia, Rheinberger em­barked on a whirlwind tour of western Europe. In December of that year, he took swings through South America and Africa. It was his first experience traveling alone, which soon became his modus ope­randi. In those early days, he made sure he took the time to soak in what he was experiencing. “When I was younger, there was a sense of wonderment with each new country,” he said of his first trip through Africa, where he took in sights such as Victoria Falls, Lake Tanganyika, the Great Pyramids and the Suez Canal.

In 1979, after taking a trip through the Soviet Union, it was time for a break. Rhienberger entered law school and, con­sequently, entered a time in his life when he would focus on building his career and starting a business. (He is a tax and estate planning attorney in Stillwater, Minn.) He didn’t leave the country again until a 1990 tour for the U.S. Army Reserves brought him back to Europe – the only trip he took for professional reasons, during which he was able to acquire his 107th country, Lichtenstein.

Every country has a story

Ask Rheinberger about his travel experiences on a philosophi­cal level and he tends to talk in metaphors about reaching for lofty goals and always coming up with new ideas. But ask him about a specific country he has visited and you will learn that each one has a story.

There is no shortage of anec­dotes, including how he got the best sleep of his life while traveling on the Trans-Siberian Railway or how he was approached by a wealthy-looking gen­tleman in an Ecuadoran restaurant with an offer to spend an evening with a pros­titute, an offer he respectfully declined.

Rheinberger also shares a harrowing story about a trip to Zaire, a country that he ranks as his worst to visit. “Zaire has the worst airport safeguards in the world – and that’s the least of its problems,” according to Rheinberger, who discovered when he arrived that there was a national strike in progress. “The airport is located 15 miles from town, but there is no transportation provided to get back and forth,” he said. To get around meant bribing corrupt military and government officials. After spending one night and nearly missing his opportunity to leave while getting harassed at an airport check-in, Rheinberger was happy to cross Zaire off his list.

Another lesser-traveled destination was reached on an ex­cursion to Antarctica. “If you have a group of people who claim they’ve been to Antarctica, you’ll know which one is telling the truth.” According to Rheinberger, when asked about the most memorable attribute of the icy continent, some might expect to hear about the water or the cold. “They’re lying. Because if you’ve ever been there, the most vivid memory you have is the smell.” Apparently, there are no pooper scoopers on Antarctica, and in a place where penguins have the run of the land, things tend to pile up over time.

Logistics

When choosing destinations, Rheinberger likes to focus on capital cities. “The capital is the cultural center of a country. You can see a lot in a short amount of time,” he said. “I also find that you get a real experience by staying in the city.”

By immersing himself in the capital cities, he allows him­self to experience what locals might feel, unlike what he refers to as the “National Geographic” perception, which tends to be a single person’s account of an individual moment that most people would never experience.

Rheinberger also finds that capital cities offer the best ac­commodations. When it comes to where he rests his head, he spares no expense. He stays at four- and five-star hotels whenever possible for several reasons. “You get what you pay for in a lot of ways,” he said. “I like to stay at well-known places because taxi drivers know where they are, they have the best security, they are usually centrally located and they almost always have good restaurants.”

When it comes to food, you might expect that he’s sampled some of the strangest delicacies the world has to offer. On the contrary, “I like burgers and fries, and you can get that in almost every country.” And when there are no other viable options, “There’s always a McDonald’s.”

But even American food can have its shortcomings in certain parts of the world. While visiting Bhutan, a country in the Himalaya Mountains, Rheinberger ordered a burger at a sup­posed high-end restaurant. Over time, he had learned to ask about the origins of food he was about to eat to avoid any diges­tive interruptions. Upon asking his server, he learned that all of the country’s beef came from India, where cows are allowed to die of natural causes before being exported. A red flag arose when he learned how long it took for the beef to be transported. “I wasn’t taking any chances on beef that had spent a week or more on a push cart coming up the mountains to Bhutan.”

Although there are a few downsides, Rheinberger mostly prefers to travel alone as it’s much easier to handle logistics of only one person, particularly toward the end of his “list” when he says visiting countries became much more mechanical.

“In the beginning, I had a lot more of a sense of wonder about the new places I was seeing,” he said. “It became more about cross­ing countries off my list toward the end. The differences between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ places became irrelevant.”

Travel tips from the expert

As someone who has spent so much time in airports and ho­tels, Rheinberger often is asked for travel tips. For anyone hoping to match his accomplishment, he lists several suggestions:

Try to be the first person in line to check in at the airport and the first person on the plane. “In some countries, government offi­cials can override your seating,” he said. “The first person to sit in a seat gets to keep it, even if there are two people assigned to the seat. Your carry-on luggage has to fit, too.”

When arriving in a foreign country, try to be the first person through customs. According to Rheinberger, “This guarantees a better shot at getting a taxi and helps you avoid any extortion by the remaining taxi drivers – if one exists at all.”

Do not rely on wake-up calls. “About one-third of them fail, regardless of hotel quality. You should always get one, but only count on it as a back-up.” Rheinberger doesn’t travel with an alarm clock, but has his own system: “Drink water before you go to bed, you’ll wake up eventually.”

While getting around in an unfamiliar place, don’t be afraid to ask questions of the locals, but use the rule of three. “Ask three people the same question, if at least two people have the same an­swer, that’s probably the right one,” he said.

 Never forget your ideas

According to Rheinberger, “St. Thomas is a dangerous place.”

And that’s coming from someone who has traveled to such per­ceived dangerous places as Afganistan, Yemen and Somalia, where, incidentally, he says he felt quite safe. “Because people are so con­cerned with where they’ll find their next meal that they don’t have the luxury to commit a crime.”

With regard to his St. Thomas experience, the “danger factor” is in the learning and sharing of ideas and where those ideas can lead you. In Rheinberger’s case, they led him around the world over the course of nearly 40 years. “St. Thomas is a cradle of ideas,” he said. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been involved when I was a student. I wouldn’t have had the tools.”

In November 2011, Rheinberger stepped into Somalia and, at that moment, his 196th country. What’s next for the man who spent much of his life traveling the world? Some pursuits are yet to be determined, but he is sure of one thing, “You always have to plan for tomorrow, you have to initiate it. Never forget your ideas.”

Read more from St. Thomas magazine

Casey Kasem on “American Top 40”

Today we can choose from thousands of songs with a click of a mouse, but when we were kids, we let Casey make the call. With his raspy, melodic tones and distinctively measured – and family-friendly – delivery, “American Top 40” host Casey Kasem spoke volumes.

It was appointment radio. We’d clear our preteen schedules, settle in by the stereo with a bag of Bugles, and get our weekly fix of songs like “I Love Rock N’ Roll,” “Pass the Dutchie” and “Come On Eileen.” But Casey didn’t just spin records – he spun yarns. It was as if we were all sitting around a big, cozy fire and listening to Casey tell the stories behind the songs – with guest appearances by Men Without Hats and Quarterflash.

Even prerelationship grade-schoolers got the poignancy of his heart-tugging “long-distance dedications,” usually about a lost love. They all started like they could be a letter to Pent­house (“Dear Casey, A few summers ago I moved from Atlanta, Georgia, my lifelong home, to a small town in rural Wisconsin …”), and ended with something like “Casey, will you please play ‘99 Red Balloons’?” He’d close every show with his trademark reminder to “keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars,” and dammit if we didn’t try to do just that.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: Casey also voiced memorable cartoon characters like Scooby-Doo’s Shaggy, which are still all over TV. But his legacy is on the radio. After Casey retired from AT40, Shadoe Stevens and then Ryan Seacrest eventually filled his chair, but they never filled his shoes.
FUN FACT: Casey’s married to Jean Kasem, better known as dimwitted Loretta Tortelli on “Cheers.”

Free to Be … You and Me

A boy who loved his doll, a girl get­ting chomped by tigers, and a dog fixing a sink? Where do we sign up?

A record album, illustrated songbook and 1974 TV special, triple-threat media powerhouse “Free to Be … You and Me” was created when “That Girl” star Marlo Thomas wanted to teach her young niece that it was OK to break gender roles, in careers and life. And looking at today’s world, with its stay-at-home dads and doctor moms, there’s little doubt that she helped make that happen.

Kids who got this book or album probably had never heard of women’s lib except as a punch line on “Maude.” Many of the major points sailed over our heads; other parts seemed “no-DOY” obvious. No one likes housework. It’s all right to cry.

Boys can bake cakes, girls can bait hooks, and whatever gen­der you are, divorce sucks. But the songs were darn catchy, and the book engrossing, featuring dreamy pencil sketches, snappy cartoons, and one story told in handwritten notes on torn notebook paper. Its most memorable song? “William Wants a Doll,” sung by Alan “Hawkeye Pierce” Alda. Its best story? Shel Silverstein’s hilarious “Ladies First,” in which a demanding little girl is eaten up by tigers.

The book even addressed issues kids didn’t know were issues, such as how you shouldn’t dress your cat in an apron but should, if he so desires, let your dog be a plumber. Heather Has Two Mom­mies gots nothing on this.

X-TINCTION RATING: Revised and revived.
REPLACED BY: A 35th-anniversary edition of the book came out in 2008. And in fall 2010, Target released a back-to-school ad prominently featuring the “Free to Be …” song.

“The Facts of Life”

“The Facts of Life” theme song urged viewers to “take the good” and “take the bad,” and true to form, the show dished up plenty of both. Among the good? Tootie meets Jermaine Jackson. Natalie hires an incompetent Blair for a job at a taco joint. Late-sea­son housemother Beverly Ann has a Twilight Zone-style nightmare where the girls are all horribly murdered. (Seriously!)

Among the bad? A first season featuring approximately 80 million classmates, all of whom get two minutes of airtime, even Molly Ringwald. George Clooney’s mullet. Annoying Australian Pippa. The random ’80s-ness of the musical guests. (El DeBarge? Stacey Q?) The preachy issue-oriented episodes, covering everything from book banning to breast cancer. The groaner punch lines from comic Geri Jewell as Blair’s cousin.

But the four main girls had a friendship that felt real, and the fact that dowdy Natalie, for one, didn’t exactly fit the Holly­wood star mode only lent to the show’s charm. And although Mrs. Garrett’s advice was corny, she was still a way cooler mom figure than Carol Brady. Still, it was fairly obvious she was running some scam. One wrecked school van does not eight years of indentured servitude make.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: An embarrassing Thanksgiving reunion special aired in 2001, sans Jo. Seasons of the original show are slowly trick­ling out on DVD.

Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific

Shampoo really let its hair down in the ’70s and ’80s. Body on Tap incorporated beer! Lemon Up had a lemon-shaped top! Fabergé Organics wanted its users to tell two friends and so on and so on and so on. But the crown­ing glory of the shampoo aisle was Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific.

The name sucked you in. Few products made an entire sentence their name, and such a goofy one to boot. There was no Gee, I Think Your Butt Looks Smaller for jeans, or Gee, Your Breath Doesn’t Smell Quite So Rank for mouthwash. The pop-art packaging, with its deep-pink bottle and chubby mul­ticolored letters, further encouraged the purchase. And the scent sealed the deal. It smelled kind of like a combination of your sis­ter’s perfume, an opium den and the hanging air freshener in your older brother’s Chevy van. Put together, it smelled of the ’70s.

X-TINCTION RATING: Revised and revived.
REPLACED BY: GYHST, as its friends call it, is still made and can be ordered online through The Vermont Country Store. Looks – and smells – just like we remember.

“The Electric Company”

When you’d outgrown “Sesame Street,” you turned on the power with “The Electric Company,” which ran from 1971 to 1977 on PBS. It was entertaining, educational and more than a little freaky. Who didn’t want to punch the kids named Whimper and Whine for obvious reasons? Ditto for plaid-clad J. Arthur Crank, with his voice set to the annoyance level just below “power drill.” And why, oh why, was that giant anthropomorphic lollipop follow­ing that poor little girl?

But most of the show was irresistible. We longed to join the singing group the Short Circus, swing on vines with Jennifer of the Jungle or foil the Spell Binder with Letterman. Some skits were both addictive and crazy-making – the live-action Spidey skits were often the hit of the episode, but it was unnerving that the web­slinger had apparently been rendered mute, speaking only through squeaky word balloons.

Later in life, EC fans felt as if they’d played minor-league ball with a lineup that went on to become superstars. Morgan Freeman, Bill Cosby, Rita Moreno, Gene Wilder and Joan Rivers, we knew you when. HEY, YOU GUYS!

X-TINCTION RATING: Revised and revived.
REPLACED BY: A completely new version of “The Electric Com­pany” began airing in 2009.
FUN FACT: The show’s soap-opera spoof, “Love of Chair,” had a famous catchphrase, “But what about Naomi?” The Naomi who inspired the line was an “Electric Company” producer, Naomi Foner Gyllenhaal, now mom to actors Jake and Maggie.

John Hughes Movies

Maybe your high school didn’t actually look anything like the cush suburban worlds of John Hughes’ movies. But that didn’t mean he got things wrong. Sure, we may never have been stuck in Saturday detention with a girl who made art from her dandruff, or given our underwear to a geek.

But Hughes set up universes we could all relate to. The vil­lain in your life didn’t have to sneer like James Spader. Maybe it was the sour-faced cheerleader in your Spanish class who was never going to drop her grudge. And you might not have had a best friend as cool and yet impressively geeky as Duckie, or as neurotic and moody as Cameron. It didn’t matter.

The hearts of Hughes’ characters – their loyalty, wit and that killer Ferris Bueller ingenuity – these were things we recog­nized and responded to. Who hasn’t felt as forgotten as Samantha in “Sixteen Candles”? Or like the one ragamuffin in a school of Vanderbilts, like Andie in “Pretty in Pink”?

Hughes’ movies nailed it: Even the pretty girls and the jocks sometimes slogged through the day as if it were a bowl of wet cereal. The song that rang through the halls of detention in “The Breakfast Club” might as well be every teen’s anthem: “Don’t You (Forget About Me). Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

Hughes’ movies didn’t, and neither did he.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: Hughes died far too early, in 2009, at just 59. He can’t be replaced, only imitated.
FUN FACT: Asked by favorite star Molly Ringwald which of his characters he was most like, Hughes said he was a cross between Ferris Bueller and Samantha of “Sixteen Candles.”

K-tel

With their “it slices, it dices!” rapid-fire carnival-barker nar­ration, K-tel commercials sold music the way door-to-door sales­men once sold appliances. And no wonder, since the company was started by … a former door-to-door appliance salesman. Canadian entrepreneur Philip Kives figured out that high-energy TV com­mercials were a perfect way to pitch records, and sold hundreds of millions of “super hit” compilations with names like Pure Power, Starflight, Disco Fire and Street Beat.

The yell-y, fast-talking narrator hawked hits from Peaches and Herb! Jigsaw! And Molly Hatchet! They were available at Sears! Kmart! and Woolworth’s! Once we kids were exposed to the barrage of groovy animation, reverb, song clips and photos of the bands, we were convinced every collection was a must-buy, and begged our parents for a ride to the mall. (Did Stanley Ku­brick get the idea for the freaky, fast-cut brainwashing scene in “A Clockwork Orange” from K-tel? Discuss.) It wasn’t until we got the album home that the hypnotic spell wore off and we real­ized we didn’t really care for most of the songs, particularly those by England Dan and John Ford Coley.

Too smart to fall for that in-your-face sales pressure? Check your record collection. We’ll bet you the latest hit from the DeFranco Family you’ll find a K-tel logo or 10.

X-TINCTION RATING: Still going strong.
FUN FACT: K-tel’s most popular album was “Hooked on Clas­sics,” which featured catchy classical tunes set to a disco beat and has sold more than 10 million copies.

Sassy Magazine

Tiger Beat hyped celebrities, and Seventeen was heavy on makeup and clothes. If those three things weren’t the mainstays of your teen existence, the magazine rack was a pretty frustrating place. Until 1988, when Sassy Magazine blasted onto the scene.

Here was a teen magazine that didn’t speak only to the cheerlead­ers and homecoming queens, but reached out to the burnouts, the brains, and every girl who didn’t believe that a new mascara would change her life. Sassy not only celebrated indie music, but con­vinced girls that they just needed a garage and a guitar to start their own band. It reviewed zines and got alternative rockers to offer dating advice. Certain stars (Michael Stipe, and onetime Sassy intern Chloë Sevigny) were favorites, but there was no kow­towing to the vapid celeb of the moment. (One article was head­lined “23 Celebrities Not to Dress Like.” Helllooooo, Seventeen fave Whitney Houston.)

Reading Sassy felt like talking to an über-cool big sister, and the writers encouraged that feeling by signing their articles with just their first names. Jane, Christina, Mary Kaye and Margie didn’t seem like ivory-tower editors in a Manhattan skyscraper, but like trusted pals. When Sassy was sold (humiliatingly, to the company that published Teen) and eventually shut down, it wasn’t like a magazine ended. It was like letters from your coolest friend simply stopped arriving.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: No modern magazine is as cool, but Sassy’s alums, and those it influenced, are everywhere – running blogs, rocking out in bands, writing books. It was honored with a 2007 book, How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter to the Greatest Teen Magazine of All Time.
FUN FACT: In a recurring “Saturday Night Live” sketch, Phil Hartman played a Sassy editor who hosted a talk show and used the word “sassy” in as many ways as he could.

Lip Smackers and Lip Lickers Lip Balms

Bonne Bell Lip Smackers first showed up in 1973 and quickly pushed their way to mouth-moisturizing dominance. Some brilliant marketing mind had the inspired notion to sign deals with soda-pop and candy companies, resulting in wacky flavors such as 7-Up, Tootsie Roll and Orange Crush. Forget the lip-soothing aspect, these were practically snacks.

Bonne Bell also successfully hawked them as jewelry. Large Lip Smackers came with a plastic hoop on one end and a plasticky rope so they could be worn around the neck or swung at pesky little brothers.

Competing Lip Lickers by Village Bath seemed to be designed to appeal to the kind of girls who carried Pride and Prejudice with them everywhere and thought Gunne Sax dresses were too reveal­ing. They just looked old-fashioned, with their cool little gold metal tins with sliding lids and elaborate designs of fruit and flowers lavished on the tops. You pushed down on the lid until it clicked, then slid it open to reach the gloss. Once you were there, it was almost impossible to resist digging down into the balm and creating a tunnel that went all the way to the bottom of the case.

Thankfully, neither Lip Smackers nor Lip Lickers actually colored your lips. Girls gunked them on so heavily that if they had imparted any color, they all would have looked like recent gradu­ates of Clown College.

X-TINCTION RATING:
LIP SMACKERS: Still going strong. Current flavors include s’mores, buttered popcorn, and cookies and cream; Lip Smackers has also cut deals with Jell-O, M&M’s, Kool-Aid, Skittles and other brands.
LIP LICKERS: Gone for good, though other balms use similar sliding tins.
FUN FACT: Lip Smackers were originally designed as an unfla­vored gloss for outdoor types, until the flavor chemists got ahold of them. Strawberry was the first-ever flavor.

“Schoolhouse Rock!”

The concept sounds horrible: Hey, kids! We’re going to pep­per your Saturday TV time with learning! But if a whole generation knows the Preamble to the Constitution or the order of the planets or that fat cigar-smoking cats shouldn’t be allowed in pool halls, they can thank the happy little family of videos called “Schoolhouse Rock!”

As with the “Brady Bunch” siblings, certain members of the family were overhyped. “Conjunction Junction” and “I’m Just a Bill” overshadowed the Jan-like charms of kangaroo-adopting, pro­nounhawking “Rufus Xavier Sarsparilla” or the dreamy ice skater in “Figure Eight.” And “Schoolhouse Rock!” created as many ques­tions as it answered. What kind of camp sent kids unpacking their adjectives near a hairy, scary bear? Was that youngest Lolly really old enough to be slaving away in an adverb store? Who got beat up worse, the football player in “Interjections” who ran the wrong way, or the Poindexter who cheered, “Hurray, I’m for the other team”

Still, the tunes sank into kids’ brains like grape jelly into Wonder bread, and we would be a better nation today if older folks, too, had their own versions. Imagine “Schoolhouse Rock!” songs for such topics as “Floss! That’s What’s Happening’” and “Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, Get Your Adjustable Rate Subprime Mortgages Here.” Well, maybe not that one.

X-TINCTION RATING: Revised and revived.
REPLACED BY: The original creators helped put out a 2009 envi­ronmentally themed collection, “Schoolhouse Rock! Earth.”
FUN FACT: The late jazz singer Blossom Dearie was the voice of “Unpack Your Adjectives,” “Mother Necessity” and the haunting “Figure Eight.”

Shrinky Dinks

Invented in 1973, Shrinky Dinks brought into play the one appliance that mom never really wanted you to mess with: the oven. In fact, the whole Shrinky Dink process seemed kind of like a joyous, don’t-tell-the-parents experiment. Melting plastic on a hot cookie sheet without getting yelled at? Sign us up!

Shrinky Dinks never looked like they were going to work. You colored in the shape, be it a Smurf, Mr. T or a rainbow-maned unicorn, threw it on a cookie sheet and hoped for the best. Watching through the oven door, you were convinced you’d done it wrong and nothing would ever happen, when suddenly it started to curl up like an old sheet of fax paper. It twisted, and then it fixed itself, and the end product was tiny, bright and colorful, and thick and strong. As with Homer Simp­son and his Flaming Moe drink, fire made it good.

Few kids really knew what to do with Shrinky Dinks once they were shrunky dunk. One can only have so many zipper pulls, key chains and napkin rings, after all. But no one ever thought about that when they were watching the plastic writhe in its little kitchen torture chamber. Sometimes, the journey is indeed way more fun than the destination.

X-TINCTION RATING: Still going strong.
FUN FACT: In the 1970s, superheroes were the best-selling Shrinky Dinks theme; in the 1980s, it was the Smurfs.

Sitting in the Way Back of a Station Wagon

Back in the days before safety was invented, the most sought-after seat in mom’s faux-wood-paneled Country Squire station wagon wasn’t shotgun in the front. It wasn’t in the back, either, crammed in with your sticky siblings. It was the “way back” – vehicular Valhalla. While the rest of the family faced front, the luckiest kids scored the best seats in the house, the col­lapsible ones with a view out the rear window. Seat belts? Who needed ’em? When dad took a hairpin turn, you’d roll around like a pop can.

But dang, what a ride. It was our own little space, like a tiny office or a Pullman bunk on a train. And the best part was that it put you as far away from your parents as the engineers in Detroit could possibly figure out. You were on your own little vacation, and if you wanted to stick your tongue out or make faces at cars behind you, who would know? Even though you were 8 years old, you were still ahead of the poor slob driving behind you – who no doubt had his own kid facing out the back, making faces at yet another frustrated driver.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: With the introduction of minivans, station wagons’ popularity crashed.

Atari 2600

If you could go back to the 1980s and show an Atari 2600-addicted kid a modern screenshot of Grand Theft Auto, it’d be like escorting Amelia Earhart onto the space shuttle.

Today, it’s easy to snort at Atari’s pixilated Pitfall Harry, swinging from a mighty jagged line. Pac-Man appeared to have been hastily copied from the legendary arcade version by a kid with no depth perception. But remember, until the 2600 came out, the pinnacle of home gaming was Pong, a black-and-white game in which small vertical lines beat up on a tiny square. The 2600 felt like the future.

The great Atari games have passed into legend: Space In­vaders. Asteroids. Frogger. But it’s the bizarre ones that are forever burned into our brainpans. In Chase the Chuckwagon, you guided a dog to his product-placed Purina kibble. In Plaque Attack, you protected teeth by shooting toothpaste at invading food. In Journey Escape, you guided members of the band Jour­ney past groupies and crooked promoters to get them to their … spaceship?

Atari didn’t go down easy. The 2600 was fourteen when it was officially retired in 1992. Back in the 1980s, its TV jingle de­manded to know: “Have you played Atari today?” No, not today, but sometimes we think we would give up our HDTVs, our iPhones, even our hybrid cars for just one more hour sprawled on the living-room floor, helping that damned frog cross the road.

X-TINCTION RATING: Gone for good.
REPLACED BY: Intellivision, Super Nintendo, Xbox – take your pick. But the 2600 was so beloved that consoles dubbed “Atari Flashback” have been released, with original games and the same cheesy fake-wood paneling of their grandfather.

Benji

Every generation has a dog hero, but leave it to Generation X to eschew purebreds like Lassie and Rin Tin Tin and fall in love with a mutt. Benji was every kid’s dream dog, from his melty chocolate eyes to his constantly wagging tail. In his eponymous 1974 film, the little pup foiled kidnappers, befriended cops, and even opened metal pudding cups.

Once the first Benji movies hit the big screen, every kid in the country wanted a Benji dog – or a Benji lunch box, record, coloring book, or paperback. The accessories were available, but since Benji was a shelter dog, no one knew how to replicate his floppy looks. A TV show tried, though: 1980’s “Here’s Boomer” took a similar pooch to the small screen for two sad seasons.

Sure, some mocked the five Benji movies for their sheer in­nocence. The pooch had none of the snarkiness of Snoopy or the slobbering doltishness of Scooby-Doo. But in a world of war and Watergate and R-rated everything, the family friendly series was an oasis for grateful parents and easily scared kids. And they might not admit it, but even toughershelled viewers gave a relieved sniffle when the little mutt saved the day. Man’s best friend, indeed.

X-TINCTION RATING: Revised and revived.
REPLACED BY: Although no modern movie dog is quite as fa­mous as Benji, from Beethoven to Marley and Me, Hollywood dogs keep on barking up the right tree. The creator of the Benji movies, Joe Camp, says a new Benji movie is in the works.

Wacky Packages

Wacky Packages combined three of kids’ favorite things: goofy commercial mascots, paint-peeling stickers, and really, really lame jokes.

Wacky creators never went for the subtle. Silly Putty became Killy Putty! Peter Pan peanut but­ter? Peter Pain! Spam? Cram! It’s like the Simpsons episode where Marge suggests a pile of names for about-to-be-born Bart and Homer is ready with a stupid taunt for each. (“Marcus? They’ll call him Mucus!”)

But kids were not exactly looking for Thomas Pynchon. Obvi­ous ruled in Wackyland, and Gross shared the throne. Who could resist a bucket of the Colonel’s finest when it was renamed Ken­tucky Fried Fingers? Crest toothpaste became garlic-flavored Crust. A horrified housewife shrieked as she cooked up a batch of Minute Lice.

Let that nice girl next door gussy up her notebook with Snoopy and scratch ’n’ sniff strawberries, you were rebelling against the advertising establishment, even if you weren’t quite sure what it was. Pass the Frosted Snakes.

X-TINCTION RATING:: Revived and revised.
REPLACED BY: Wacky Packs are back, Jack! Topps is once again cranking out new parodies (“Dead Bull no-energy drink”), while also paying homage to their retro legacy. Wacky Packs Old School features new stickers parodying old ’70s products, while Wacky Pack Flashbacks reprint actual ’70s Wackys.

About the authors: Gael Fashingbauer Cooper is a journalist who writes the nationally recognized pop-culture blog Pop Culture Junk Mail. Brian Bellmont is a former television reporter and producer who now runs a Twin Cities public relations agency.

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This is the photo I took at 11 a.m. on Saturday, Dec. 6, 1941.

In 1941, Paul Ryan was the editor of the Kaydet, the St. Thomas Military Academy yearbook. I was the photo editor. We were searching for what novel approach we might take for the spreadsheet inside the front and rear covers of our yearbook. Why not take an aerial photo of our campus?

We all agreed that would be a great idea, but how could we get the shot? I knew that the College of St. Thomas had a U.S. Government-sponsored Civil Air Patrol (CAP) program to teach college students how to fly. I also remembered that George Kell, a student who ran the darkroom, had just obtained his private pilot’s license. What a thrill it was for me to know that George would take me up for my very first airplane ride that Saturday morning. And I would be George’s first passenger.

The morning sky was sunny and crystal clear on Dec. 6. George drove me to the hangar at Wold-Chamberlain Field (now Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport). We found the CAP plane. It was a J-3 Piper Cub with 60hp and two-place tandem seating. George – the pilot – sat in back, and I sat up front. There was one problem: The plexiglass windows were scratched. Not ideal for shooting photos.

We couldn’t let a little problem like that spoil our project, so George and I just removed the airplane door. We took off and headed across the Mississippi River to the St. Thomas campus.

My camera was a press style Speed Graphic that the academy had provided for the photo editor. Film was 3.25-by-4.25 inch single sheet Kodak Super XX that I had loaded into three wooden sheet film holders. Each holder contained two sheets so I could take six exposures. Film speed was ASA 100 – the highest speed available in those days. Of course, color film was not yet available.

The St. Paul campus was much smaller in 1941. The football stadium is in the center foreground. The St. Thomas Military Academy building was north of the power plant and west of the college science hall. The rifle range and Armory were on the site of the Anderson Athletic and Recreation Complex, which opened in 2010, when O’Shaughnessy Hall was razed. Still serving the university today: Aquinas Hall, Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas, 100-year-old Ireland Hall and the Alumni Center, which then served as the Infirmary.

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The trait showed up when he was an 8-year-old south Minneapolis boy who had two newspaper routes and later bagged groceries at a neighborhood store.

The trait was present throughout a three-decade career during which he rose from a construction splicer’s helper at Northwestern Bell Telephone to president of the company and then as president of a US West Communications division.

And the trait still motivates him today as president of management consultant MLM Partners and board member of seven companies and nonprofit organizations – service that earned him the No. 1 spot on Minneapolis-St. Paul Business Journal’s “Hardest-working Board of Directors” list in 2009.

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Madison said. “I just applied all of the principles that I learned on my paper routes as I went through my jobs in the phone business.”

Madison saved money from those paper routes to buy a black-and-white television for his family. His dad was a railroad engineer, his mom managed a bakery and he had a younger sister, and they had a comfortable middle-class lifestyle.

“That’s just the way it worked in those days,” he said. “We had a nice neighborhood and home, but you had to work as a kid if you wanted spending money for pleasure. There were good learning experiences in those jobs.”

He smiled as he told about one experience. He not only delivered newspapers but also collected for them, and some customers would try to avoid him.

“I learned how to sneak up on a house,” he said. “You didn’t come up the front steps. You had to learn the habits of each customer, and their personalities. If you gave good service, you could expect a good tip. That meant delivery right to the front door, and inside the door if it was raining.”

Madison also bought his first car, a 1941 four-door Chevrolet, at age 15 with earnings from his jobs. He drove the car to Roosevelt High School, where he graduated in 1953, and the University of Minnesota to pursue a degree in aerospace engineering and an interest in becoming an astronaut.

But he left school halfway through his freshman year and took a job with Northwestern Bell.

“We’d go into manholes, splice wires together and slip a sleeve over the copper to protect the wires,” he said. “I also had to vent the manholes and clean up after the splicer.”

Madison later worked as a lineman, installing telephone poles and attaching cables and wires, and he also installed residential telephones. He learned a lot on those jobs, including one important lesson: “Working at Northwestern Bell was a wakeup call, telling me I didn’t want to do this work for the rest of my life,” he said. “I knew I needed to go back to school and prove I could become an engineer.”

Tom Madison and St. Thomas

• Served on the Board of Trustees from 1981 to 1997 and rejoined the board in 2011. He is on the Investment and Student Affairs committees.

• Represents US West, with his late wife, Pat, and their three children, in one of 13 fresco pillar portraits in the Terrence Murphy Hall atrium on the Minneapolis campus. St. Thomas designated US West as one of the founders of the Minneapolis campus, which opened in 1992.

• Believes St. Thomas’ biggest challenges are related to the increasing costs of higher education. Students need more financial aid, he says, and the question always will be asked about whether a college education is worth the cost: “I think it is, and I believe St. Thomas is positioned well, but I’m worried about debt loads. We also need to ask, ‘Can we be everything to everybody, or do we need to focus more?

When he graduated in 1959, Madison had a family – wife, Pat, and the first two of their three children – and a decision to make. He had 10 engineering job offers from around the country, but he decided to stay in Minnesota and work for Northwestern Bell because “the people were good, the benefits were good and the culture was good. It was the right fit.”

And it was a fit that lasted 33 years, starting with a 10-month training program in which he worked in every department. When the training ended, he chose to work in the plant department as a service foreman who managed telephone installers.

Madison quickly advanced into other supervisory jobs, usually requiring moves around the Midwest. He spent four years in Redwood Falls, Minn., as a district plant superintendent, before returning to Minneapolis for a year. Then it was off to Nebraska, North Dakota and South Dakota; all told, he held 16 positions, including president and chief executive officer beginning in 1985 in Omaha.

“I don’t think I ever aspired to be CEO,” he said. “I first wanted to be a district plant manager, and then my goal was to be a department head, and then an officer. … All of those experiences helped me in knowing that I could manage the company. I had ‘been there, done that.’”

Dick McCormick, the retired chairman of US West, worked with Madison for nearly 40 years and admired him because of his energy level and his ability to analyze and resolve issues.

“Tom always had high expectations of himself and the people who worked with him,” McCormick said. “He was demanding and tough but fair, and a good communicator. People always knew where they stood with him.”

The breakup of the AT&T-Bell system led to the establishment of seven regional operating companies, including Denver-based US West (which later became Qwest and today is Century Link). Madison held three senior executive positions in Minneapolis before retiring in 1992.

His inclination was to do consulting and venture capital work, and the opportunity to serve on corporate boards intrigued him. Service on the Minnesota Mutual Life Insurance board led to an interim position as vice chairman and co-CEO in 1994, and more companies approached him about joining their boards. His biography lists more than 40 boards over the last two decades.

“I could contribute and I could help,” he said. “As a CEO, I faced a lot of different challenges and opportunities. I had been through the mill, so my goal was to help the management of companies avoid the kinds of mistakes I had made.”

Digital River of Minnetonka is one example. Joel Ronning founded the global e-commerce company in 1994 and brought Madison onto the board the following year. They are still together – Ronning as chairman and CEO of a company with 1,400 employees and Madison as lead director.

“Tom is very focused,” Ronning said. “He has ‘high-low’ capabilities. He can go down into the process to make your organization work better, and then he can go to the highest levels and talk about governance issues in an international area.”

Madison has stayed on the Digital River board this long because he closely identifies with its goals and its fundamental strategy of using the Internet to spur business growth.

“I have enjoyed the challenge and the fun of new, innovative technology,” he said. “Every company is faced with challenges and with changes in technology, and if the company can’t adjust, it won’t exist five years from now.”

He held up his cell phone, a symbol of change in the way he has communicated during his lifetime. When he started at Northwestern Bell, people used clunky rotary-dial telephones tied to land-based lines. Today, they carry phones in their pockets and rely on them to access a world of information.

“If you don’t have one of these,” he said with a nod to his cell phone, “you’re in trouble. Every single company out there is faced with technological change and how it impacts their bottom lines. The strategies of five years ago and today are significantly different.

“It’s fun to see how companies evolve, and I think I can give them some valuable advice.”

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Bruce Kramer always had been in excellent physical condition, and he was proud of it. He exercised regularly, was an avid bicyclist and survived on four hours of sleep as he juggled a busy schedule with his family, friends and job as dean of the College of Education, Leadership and Counseling at St. Thomas.

In the summer of 2010, he noticed he had a “floppy” left foot and thought it might be a pinched nerve or sciatica – not unusual for a bicyclist. During his regular physical examination, he mentioned he was “walking a little funny” and the doctor suggested he should see a neurologist. He procrastinated until he took a couple of falls in October, when his left leg collapsed.

Kramer saw a neurologist, “who pushed, pulled and hammered on me,” conducted blood tests, scheduled an electromyogram and made an appointment to see him again Dec. 6, the day after the St. Thomas Christmas Concert at Orchestra Hall.

“I sat at the concert and I cried,” he said. “I knew in my heart that the next day would bring bad news. And the music was so beautiful, it just touched my soul.”

The neurologist was blunt with Kramer and his wife, Ev Emerson: “My diagnosis is that you have ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis),” Kramer recalled him saying. “I was in there 20 minutes, and 19 were spent on me asking why he thought that.”

Kramer went home and began to research ALS on the web. He got a second opinion, from the Mayo Clinic, and the diagnosis was the same. He began to share the news with family and friends, and he pondered what to do next.

“It all was very traumatic,” he said.

The strong-willed Kramer wouldn’t let trauma rule his life even though he knew ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease after the New York Yankees star, would lead to death.

So he planned his new life and moved forward. He began drug treatments, entered a drug trial and made quarterly visits to Mayo, where ALS clinic staff evaluated his status. He also began the Dis Ease Diary, a blog in which he shares news about his condition, teaches others about ALS and expresses emotions in remarkably candid terms.

“By focusing on Dis Ease, and the disease of ALS,” he said, “it would be very easy for the reader to say, ‘Poor bastard, there but by the grace of God go I.’ Well, you’re there, too – you’re just not (dying) as quickly as I am. Maybe I can offer you some insights as I deal with these things.”

He also wanted to make – and strengthen – connections.

“The idea here is that, even as the motor neurons come unconnected, the love, life, light and joy in all of us, even in the darkest times, becomes unified,” he wrote in his first blog on March 2, 2011. “I admit this is very selfish, for I find that in the notes, letters, cards, and just chance meetings since my diagnosis, I am strengthened and energized for the days ahead. That is what love can do for us.”

He has written more than 70 blog posts, and he admitted in June and July interviews that he finds it difficult to reread them because they remind him “what I was doing then that I’m not doing now. … I knew this when I started – that I would be documenting the loss – but I didn’t realize how hard it would be to go back and see the loss.”

ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disease affecting brain and spinal cord nerve cells that control voluntary muscle movement, and those cells die. Patients have difficulty breathing when chest muscles stop working and can become paralyzed. Most live two to five years after diagnosis.

Kramer’s physical condition has deteriorated gradually, from walking with a cane to moving around in a motorized wheelchair. He gave up driving in June, his legs have lost much of their strength and he no longer can button a shirt. He calls these losses “paper cuts” and describes ALS as “death by a thousand paper cuts.”

“I traded in my manual transmission,” he wrote in “The Automatic Paper Cut” on March 2, 2011. “A manual transmission requires two hands and two feet … (and) engagement with the road that says, ‘Put your feet on this ground and pay attention.’ … Automatic transmissions let you float above it all. They are mindless.”

“Every single thing that I give up represents one more physical aspect that has become either impossible or close to impossible to do,” he said. “It’s not like I was in an accident and had a severed spinal cord and that’s where I am now. You just see this thing coming, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

As his body weakened, he also felt a sense of urgency – and passion.

“It isn’t enough to work,” he wrote in “The Gift” on March 7, 2011. “It isn’t enough to love my family. It isn’t enough to connect with friends. It needs to be done with passion, abandon, love and light. There is no time to hold grudges, be afraid and not forgive. There is no time for games. There really are places to go, people to see and things to do, and time is wasting.”

“Every day needs to count,” said Ev, who teaches music at a K-5 French immersion school in Edina and has a master’s degree in music education from St. Thomas. “I remember getting kind of morbid and sad and Bruce smiling and saying, ‘Hey, I’m not dead yet.’”

The couple met at Indiana University, married in 1981 and have two sons with St. Thomas degrees: David (law) and Jon (bachelor’s in communication). Kramer taught high school music and directed choirs in Indiana before moving to Norway in 1983 to teach. The family later lived in Cairo, Egypt, and Bangkok, Thailand, where he was a school principal, before he joined the educational leadership faculty at St. Thomas in 1996.

Several months after his ALS diagnosis, they traveled to South Korea and then to Thailand and Bali to see family and friends. He began the 2011-12 academic year with a fuller realization of his condition as a result of his quarterly trips to Mayo’s ALS Clinic, where a test measures his physical skills on a scale of 0 to 48. At times, he is tempted to lie about a symptom.

“I know this is a delusion to maintain my own sense of control,” he wrote in “Measuring Up” on May 2, 2011, “but it would allow me to say, ‘I am in charge of this person dammit, and y’all can go play your measurement games with some other patsy.’”

But, he admitted in an interview, he knows that is just an emotional reaction.

“I learned early on that the folks there are not asking questions because they want to nail you,” he said. “In order to help you treat this, they have to have truthfulness, and so I found it behooves me to tell the truth, although once in a while I just would prefer not to! I know this is not a competition, but my score is in the low 30s now. I don’t like that. I don’t like losing.”

Kramer has a huge support group as he deals with ALS, and front and center is his wife. He knew Ev would be there every step, but he worried in “The Sum of My Fears” blog on Aug. 31, 2011, about the impact on her and whether she had “any inkling of what was to come.” This past summer, he could only marvel over her unconditional love and her resiliency.

“I have to admit I always thought I would be the one taking care of Ev – that I would be the one taking care of everybody,” he said. “So now it gets flipped,” and he wonders both what that will do to Ev and “what it will do to us. If you read enough about people and what ALS has done to their marriages, it’s turned them into not a partnership any more.”

The partnership is there, and Ev believes it is stronger than ever.

“He’s my better half – my soul mate,” she said. “I’m secure in my love for Bruce. People who never struggle miss out on the depth of a relationship. Certainly this illness changes the relationship, and you relate to each other in a different way than you’ve had to before.”

Ev also has made her own adjustments by making sure she takes care of herself through exercise, meditation and allowing friends to help “so that I stay focused on the here and the now.”

Kramer’s wry humor helps deal with the tension. He said he has become a “remarkable” listener because “I don’t have the strength to interrupt,” and he is grateful that she has cheerfully taken over his longtime duties in the kitchen. She jokes that she could hardly boil water when they got married, but she’s becoming a better cook.

“I’m a good baker,” she said. “My pies are pretty hard to beat.”

Sidebar: Kramer Wants Meaningful Patient-Centered Care, Education

Read more from St. Thomas Magazine.

The trade he settled into, and which he never once considered while growing up, is sometimes called spycraft. At age 49 and a 23-year veteran of the FBI, Thysse is the special agent in charge of the counterintelligence division of the FBI’s New York Field Office, the bureau’s largest.

At least two things pointed Thysse to a college education rather than vocational school. One was his summer job in a roofing factory where it was hot and dirty and he learned about jackhammers and cleaning sludge from tanks. “It paid well, but I came home every night smelling like asphalt,” he recalled.

The other was a recruiting visit from a University of St. Thomas track and football coach named Mark Dienhart (the university’s executive vice president and chief operating officer).

At Park Center High School, Thysse had been both a good student and a good athlete, a path he continued as a Tommie. At 6 feet 1 inch and around 245 pounds, he was an offensive lineman in football, was a shot-putter in track and won the heavyweight intramural wrestling championship his senior year.

“I remember when Mark came over and asked me to consider St. Thomas,” Thysse recalled. “I came because of him. He was my football coach for two years, and Dewey (Duwayne) Dietz was my track coach for four. They were good role models and a positive influence.”

Dienhart recalled recently that “Randy was quiet, thoughtful, very hard-working and quite popular with other members of the team. He contributed significantly to some pretty successful football and track teams and, I know, also had personal success in the classroom.

“It’s not a surprise to me at all that he’s become accomplished in his professional life, but I could never have anticipated he’d become an FBI agent and would never have pictured Randy at home in the Big Apple. That’s a long way from Park Center High School.”

A long way is right. The path from Thysse’s 1985 graduation from St. Thomas to his appointment as head of the FBI’s New York counterintelligence program has involved eight moves, travels to the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and Central and South America, lots of specialized training, very few 40-hour weeks, and plenty of adventures he can’t talk about and a few he can.

At St. Thomas, Thysse majored in financial management and today sees the benefits of his career-preparation courses as well as his liberal arts courses.

Classes like those in accounting prepare you for a job right out of college, he said, but the benefits of a liberal arts education … critical thinking, how you make decisions and communication skills … those become more important as you grow in your career. They pay off throughout your life.

He cited the three philosophy courses he took from Monsignor Henri DuLac. “Those courses won’t specifically lead to a job right out of college. But they help you become better-rounded. Logical analysis and critical thinking is everything in the FBI,” he said.

Some of Thysse’s other favorite faculty members were Dr. Paul Schons in German, Dr. Shirley Polejewski in accounting and Dr. James Filkins in finance.

“Dr. Schons was always in a good mood,” Thysse said. “And besides German, he taught me something else. He didn’t give big tests at the end of the semester; instead he’d give us little quizzes each day. You had to keep up. The lesson is that you can’t always cram for a final.”

Randy Thysse (Photo by Mark Brown)

It’s easy to spot Thysse in Aquinas yearbook or Aquin newspaper photos from the early ’80s; just look for the biggest person. During his St. Thomas years Thysse also was in the Tiger Club, was president of the Lettermen’s Club, served on the All College Council, and ate his share of Lavinburgers, the peanut butter sandwiches served in Ireland Hall by Monsignor James Lavin.

He moved out of Ireland Hall during his senior year and shared a Grand Avenue home with classmates, just a few houses down from the 7-Eleven. “One day in the weight room I was spotting for this guy named Bob. We were becoming friends and I told him we were having a party at our house over on Grand, and I invited him to stop by.

“Bob showed up, but I was surprised to see he was wearing his collar. I had no idea he was a priest. He was Father Robert White. I think he had a good time at the party; that fall after I graduated, he married Karin and me in the Chapel of St. Thomas Aquinas.”

Thysse and Karin are not childhood sweethearts, but close. They met in 7th grade, but didn’t start dating until high school. They have a college-age daughter, Carrie, who this summer is an FBI intern, and a son, Erik, in high school.

After graduation, Thysse began a four-year career with an insurance company. He also took more accounting classes and earned his certified public accountant credentials. It seemed his career path was set, until the day he was chatting with a neighbor who worked for the FBI.

“Financial scandals were in the news at the time, and my neighbor told me the FBI was always looking for good accountants. I looked into it, and soon was on my way to four months of training at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Va.”

There he was introduced to the skills he’d need to investigate spies, terrorists and dangerous criminals. In addition to physical training and learning how to handle weapons, he studied behavioral science, law, ethics, forensic techniques and interrogation methods. At graduation, he received his badge, credentials, firearm and ammunition. (While he’s been in situations where there has been gunfire, he’s never had to fire his gun in the line of duty.)

As FBI Director Robert Mueller told one graduating class at Quantico, “If you go anywhere in the world and tell someone that you are an FBI special agent, you will immediately have their respect.”

His first assignment took him to the FBI field office in Des Moines, Iowa. That’s also where he completed an M.B.A. at Drake University, his daughter and son were born, and he became a Catholic.

“Thysse is a Norwegian name, and I was born and raised a Lutheran. My wife Karin is a Catholic, and I went to a Catholic university, and my friend Bob the weightlifting priest married us. When my daughter was baptized at St. Augustin’s in Des Moines, the pastor asked if I’d ever considered becoming a Catholic. I took the RCIA classes and joined the church.

“When it comes to our work in the FBI, your moral compass has got to be set,” he said. “I think my faith gives me that compass. You need that to make good decisions.”

Thysse explained that when you are first assigned to the smaller FBI field offices, you work in your specialty area – in his case it was accounting and white-collar crime – but you also work on a wide assortment of other cases, ranging from hate crimes to bank robberies to kidnappings.

His next assignment, in 1998, took him to FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C., where he supervised a financial-fraud unit. He returned to the field and from 2000 to 2002 oversaw six FBI offices in Montana. His first assignment that focused on spies began 10 years ago when he joined the bureau’s counterintelligence section in Washington. He later was assigned to the national security branch in Memphis, and in 2008 returned to FBI headquarters as section chief in the global counterintelligence section. Last year, he was promoted to his current post as head of the Counterintelligence Division of the New York Field Office.

As Jeff Stein wrote in his “SpyTalk” column in the Washington Post newspaper, “Thysse will be responsible for tracking spies from every nation trying to steal American secrets. The United Nations has often been described as a ‘nest of spies.’”

Here’s the FBI’s description of its New York field office: It protects the U.S. from terrorist attacks, foreign intelligence and espionage, cyber-based attacks and high-tech crimes, public corruption, criminal organizations, white-collar crime, significant violent crime and protects civil rights.”

Here’s Thysse’s description: “Drinking from a fire hose.” The nature of his work changed when he was promoted to management-level positions. “Now we aren’t the ones who kick in the doors or make the arrests, but we approve what our agents do, ensure that the planning is sound and provide guidance to the younger agents. It is different but still very satisfying work.”

And yes, there have been family events interrupted by calls. “You can be mowing the lawn on Saturday morning and have to drop everything to respond to a bank robbery or jump on a plane for somewhere. It’s crazy as far as that goes,” he said. “I’m pretty good at leaving my work at work, but sometimes there are things that occupy your mind. I can’t talk about my work at home. Most definitely. My wife knows I chase spies for a living, but nothing beyond that.”

Much of what Thysse does never will be known outside FBI circles. But from time to time his name appears in newspaper stories about cases he has worked on. There was a kidnapping in Nebraska, a fatal stabbing in Montana, a Tennessee mosque painted with swastikas and set on fire, a Memphis sex-slave ring and an elderly Washington, D.C., couple convicted of spying for Cuba.

Some of the spies and criminals Thysse has investigated are highly skilled while others – like the Des Moines bank robber who dropped his wallet in the woods – not so much.

One of the most publicized spy cases in recent years – dubbed Operation Ghost Stories – came to light last fall because of Freedom of Information requests. In June 2010, after more than a decade of surveillance, the FBI arrested 10 Russian spies in New York. They pleaded guilty and later were exchanged for four Russians in prison for spying for the West. It had been named “Ghost Stories” because of the spies’ long-term efforts to blend invisibly into American society.

Thysse cannot talk about his involvement with the case (at the time of the arrests, he was working in global counterintelligence at FBI headquarters) but said the operation is a good example of what agents do in his line of work.

“Usually, the critical work of our Counterintelligence Division is carried out in conjunction with our partners in the U.S. intelligence community with the utmost secrecy,” according to an FBI website. “Because the public rarely hears about those efforts, it would be easy to forget how real the threat of espionage is. … There are a lot of foreign services who want what we have, and that’s why we have agents and analysts in FBI field offices across the country working with other intelligence community partners every day to address these threats.”

Thysse can tell you, though, about some of the interesting people he’s met. When he was in training at the FBI Academy in Quantico, he attended some classes with actress Jodie Foster, who was there preparing for her role in “The Silence of the Lambs.” He also met Larry the Cable Guy and not long ago met Henry Kissinger at a social function.

“He asked me for my business card and then asked me to come to his office for a visit,” Thysse said. “A few weeks later his secretary called to see when I could come over. We spent an hour talking about politics and world events and having tea and some little cookies. It was very interesting.

“As I was leaving his office I had one of those moments that give you pause. I remembered back when I was a kid, the son of a carpet layer, talking about what trade I should learn. I was thinking, ‘How cool is this.’”

Having top-secret security clearances doesn’t mean you can’t have a sense of humor. “I was giving a talk to a grade school class back in Montana,” he recalled. “It was when ‘The X-Files’ was popular on TV and I was asked about aliens. I told them, ‘I’m not allowed to talk about it. I can’t even joke about it.’ I guess they didn’t know I was kidding. Their teacher told me later I had really stirred things up.”

Thysse doesn’t watch much television and said he dislikes watching cop shows because he feels they are unrealistic. There can be parts of FBI work that some would consider gruesome and difficult, like the agents who had to inspect conveyor belts of 9/11 debris for weeks on end. “We do get a lot of support from one another within the bureau; there’s a strong sense of camaraderie,” he said. “And I don’t know if this will make sense, but when I look back at some of the crappiest parts of my job, they also are some of my fondest memories.”

Does he ever get thank-you notes from people he’s helped? “I’ve gotten some nice thank-yous from some of the criminal cases I’ve worked on … like from bank tellers who had guns in their faces … but we don’t get those kinds of notes in our counterintelligence work. Much of what we do, no one knows about, or ever will.”

Thysse does think most Americans appreciate the work he does. Not maybe him personally, but what the FBI does on their behalf. “This job definitely carries with it a sense of service to one’s country,” he said. “If I had gone the CPA route, no doubt I could have made more money, but I do have a high level of job satisfaction.”

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