Chapter 18: Sophomore Year at Notre Dame

BELIEVE NOTHING YOU HEAR, AND ONLY HALF OF WHAT YOU SEE — A Memoir of Service, Shame, and the Search for Truth

Return to South Bend for 2nd Year

After a much-needed Christmas break with my family at Fort Leavenworth, it was time to return to South Bend and face another grueling semester. This would by my sophomore year at Notre Dame. I said my goodbyes to my parents, my sisters Cynthia and Pamela, and the Morrison girls — then boarded a flight back to Indiana with a suitcase full of clothes and some money from summer work. From the airport, I caught the shuttle to campus and was dropped off in front of Fisher Hall, bracing myself for what I knew would be a brutal pre-med workload.

It felt good to be back with my sophomore section-mates — Bob Terifay, Matt Bedics, Al Emery, and the rest of the gang. Our group had started to feel like a true brotherhood. Joe Montana had graduated and was off to begin his legendary career with the San Francisco 49ers. In his place, Notre Dame football star Mike Calhoun moved into the room next door to mine. Mike was no Joe. Where Joe had been quiet and low-profile, Mike had an active nightlife that often made it hard to get any sleep. Let’s just say, I heard more than I wanted to.

Al Returns with his 1950 DeSoto

One of the great surprises that spring was that Al Emory returned to campus with his car — a 1950 DeSoto sedan. It was a beauty, a true classic, with that big rounded body style that looked like it had rolled right out of another era. Best of all, it still had its ah-oo-ga horn, which Al loved to blast whenever the mood struck him. The car quickly became a favorite of our group, because it meant freedom. We could pile the entire gang inside — crammed shoulder to shoulder, knees pressed against the seatbacks — and head off campus for a restaurant run. I never minded because I always got Mariann on my lap. Those rides in Al’s DeSoto were as much a part of our memories as the meals themselves.

1950 DeSoto Custom Sedan

Pope John Paul I Elected

On the very day I arrived back on campus, Saturday, August 26, 1978, the Vatican’s College of Cardinals elected 65 year old Italian Cardinal Albino Luciani as Pope Paul VI’s successor. The campus was celebrating our new pope. The bells of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart were ringing loudly. Little did we know that our newly elected pope would mysteriously die in 33 days.

Pope John Paul I

Our New Freshmen & New Girlfriends

We did welcome one notable freshman into our section — Joe Delaney, who would quickly become a key part of our Fisher clique. Joe had a great sense of humor, fit in easily, and before long, he had found a girlfriend too — Bernadette from Hawaii. Turns out, the second semester of sophomore year at Fisher was something of a love story for three of us. We started dating freshmen from the Class of 1982. Joe Delaney met Bernadette Young, Andy Cordes met Ginger Miklausen, and I met Mariann Schmitz. All three of us would be married within a year of graduation.

Mariann “No Middle Name” Schmitz

My New Neighbor — Mike Calhoun

Next door to me lived Mike Calhoun, a huge defensive tackle on the Fighting Irish football team. He had taken over the room Joe Montana had occupied the previous year. Mike’s social life was a world apart from Joe’s. Joe never dated at Notre Dame — at least, I never heard of him with a girl until he met his wife on a flight to Hawaii for the Hula Bowl, where she was a flight attendant. Mike, on the other hand, had a beautiful Saint Mary’s College girlfriend, and he liked her terribly. Even though we had cinder-block walls between our rooms, I could often hear her thank him loudly.

Mike wasn’t your average college football jock. I think he was a pre-med major too, and he was genuinely nice and funny. One late night, I was buried in my books, having just walked Mariann back to her dorm for the evening. Mike poked his head into my room. “Tony, you study too hard. You need to relax a little. Come next door,” he said. I couldn’t say no. I walked into Mike’s room to find three other football players sitting around a table, each with a submarine sandwich in front of them. Mike turned to me and asked, “Tony, are you hungry?” I mumbled, “A little.” Without hesitation, he grabbed one of the sandwiches from another player, shoved it into my hands, and barked, “Tony’s hungry. Eat!” I sank down into a chair, afraid to look up, and shyly ate the submarine sandwich that had been yanked from one of the other players. It was the strangest, most hilarious study break I had ever had, and for a moment, I felt like I was part of their world — even if only for a night.

Another difficult academic year

I wish I could remember more about sophomore year, but the truth is, it was so academically demanding that I barely recall most of it. My course load was a perfect storm of misery: Organic Chemistry I, Organic Chemistry Lab I, Biology I, Biology Lab I, Calculus C (third semester Calculus), Astronomy (a deceptively difficult 200-level Physics course) and Applied Leadership (Army ROTC), with weekly Drill and Physical Training (PT).

It was a rigorous semester academically, with a greuling workload. Organic Chemistry alone weeded out half the pre-med students. Calculus C made the earlier semesters feel like a warm-up. And those half-day science labs ate up time for just a single credit. Astronomy wasn’t about gazing at stars — it was math-heavy, abstract, and anything but relaxing.

Army ROTC — Military Science

And then there was ROTC — Military Science with drill afternoons and Physical Training (PT), which took up every spare minute I didn’t have.

Sophomore year in Army ROTC is where it begins to get real. We dove into leadership development, military tactics, and officer responsibilities. We learned how to give and follow orders, how to think tactically, and how to lead under pressure.

There were classroom lectures, weekly Leadership Labs, and three mornings of physical training (PT) each week, rain or shine. Each semester ended with a Field Training Exercise (FTX), complete with land navigation, rappelling, and cold nights under the stars. It was exhausting — and it left little time for anything else.

I Meet Mariann Schmitz

And yet, right in the middle of all that chaos, something extraordinary happened. Somewhere out on the quad — I don’t remember where, or even exactly when — I met Mariann “No Middle Name” Schmitz, the girl I would someday marry. That I can’t recall the exact moment bothers me a little, but it also makes sense. I was overworked, underslept, and socially anxious — especially around girls. But something about Mari caught me off guard.

Not My Usual Type

Mariann wasn’t my “type” at all — not the girly-girl in a miniskirt and flowing, silky hair I usually noticed. Mari was wearing running shorts, a sweatshirt, tube socks, tennis shoes, and her hair was tied back in a sweaty ponytail. She had just finished jogging with some upperclassman jock. And yet, there was something about her — her eyes, her smirk of a smile, her calm presence — that made me stop.

What possessed me to talk to her, I’ll never know. I had nothing to offer — no helpful tips about the campus, no shared major (she was an Economics major), I didn’t play basketball, and no cool social clout. But thank God, she was Catholic and intelligent. That gave us common ground. Then I found out her mom was full-blooded Italian, her dad German. Now we were talking. At least I’d met my cultural match.

Schmitz Family in Wheaton, Illinois

Mariann came from Wheaton, Illinois, part of a big, devout Catholic family. Her father, John Henry Schmitz, was German-American and worked as Executive Vice President at Hollister Corporation. Her mother, Sara Gene Crivello Schmitz, was a powerhouse in her own right — President of the DuPage County Bar Association. Mariann was a graduate of Wheaton Central Class of 1978.

Together, Mr. & Mrs. Schmitz raised seven children: John Jr., Susan, Margaret, Kathryn, Mariann, James, and Jacqueline. Mr. Schmitz had just passed away in March 2025 at age 94 , after 73 years of marriage. That tells you everything you need to know about their values. They were the real deal.

Mariann–a Scholar-Athlete

Mari was brilliant — a Notre Dame Scholar, likely a National Merit finalist. She was also athletic, having played on her varsity basketball team back in Wheaton. A true Notre Dame scholar-athlete. But what struck me most wasn’t her résumé — it was how comfortable I felt around her. She had a sharp wit, a quick mind, and those sleepy eyes that made me lose my train of thought. She just made me laugh and feel comfortable. I don’t remember how it all unfolded from there. I just know that we started spending more time together. And before long, we were spending every day together.

Our First Date?

There was no official “first date.” We just ended up together. I still remember one quiet evening, walking with her around Saint Mary’s Lake at twilight. She was talking — about what, I have no idea — and I was suddenly overcome with dread. “Oh my God… I’m going to marry this girl.”

I knew it. That was it. No more dorm parties, or panty raids, or sampling the brilliant Saint Mary’s coeds. All those college fantasies I’d picked up from TV and movies evaporated. Because I had just met my future wife.

Did Mari think the same thing? Probably not. More likely, she was thinking, “This guy is short and definitely can’t play basketball.” But somehow, we clicked. And I knew how lucky I was.

Forty-seven years later, I still can’t think of a single flaw in her. She was — and is — smart, kind, holy, funny, and the most grounded person I’ve ever met. For someone who was half Italian and half German, Mariann never fought or gave me the silent treatment. Mari is that rare girl — pure, strong, sweet, and serious about life, studies, faith and family.

Looking back, meeting Mariann was the most important part of my Notre Dame experience. It wasn’t just the professors, labs, the tests, or the military drills that shaped me — it was her. She changed the course of my life. And in the chaos of it all, I found something I never expected: love.

Animal House, Food Fights & Toga Parties

Not long after we met, the campus atmosphere shifted into a different kind of chaos — thanks to Hollywood.

Toga Parties

That fall, the movie Animal House had just debuted on July 28, 1978, right before school started. It became an instant cultural phenomenon. The film’s irreverent, chaotic fraternity spirit swept across campuses like wildfire — and Notre Dame was no exception. Residence halls across campus threw Animal House-inspired toga parties in those early weeks of the semester. Even the usually reserved Fisher Hall got in on the fun.

Food Fights in South Dining Hall

I remember walking into the South Dining Hall and watching spontaneous food fights erupt without warning. Someone would shout a battle cry — usually something absurd like “TOGA!” or “FOOD FIGHT!” — and trays of mashed potatoes, carrots, and Jell-O would go flying. Most of the students would duck under the long oak tables for cover, but a few brave or foolish souls stood their ground, hurling dinner rolls like grenades. It was madness — hilarious, stupid, and strangely exhilarating.

Animal House Attitude

That Animal House attitude — carefree, rebellious, and loud — lingered across campus for nearly the entire school year. And yet, amid all that absurdity, I had found Mariann. My world had become more grounded and more joyful, even as food flew through the air.

My Academic Load Sophomore Year

When I reminisce about my sophomore year at Notre Dame, all I can think about are the hours and hours I spent buried in Organic Chemistry, Biology, and their respective laboratories — plus third semester Calculus. It was a brutal academic year.

Pope John Paul II Elected

On October 16, 1978, the Vatican’s College of Cardinals elected 58 year old Cardinal Karol Józef Wojtyła of Wodowice, Poland, the first non-Italian Pope in over 400 years. His election inspired hope and resistance against the communist regime in his home country. And his work with United States President Ronald Reagan is believed to have facilitated the decline and eventual fall of the Soviet Union years later.

Pope John Paul II

19th Birthday at Notre Dame

My 19th birthday on December 3, 1978 felt completely different from the year before — quieter in some ways, but more meaningful. This time, I had Mariann by my side. She surprised me with a homemade cake, and, as if by tradition, my mother’s cake arrived in the mail the very same day. I suddenly had two birthday cakes again, and somehow that made me feel doubly blessed.

Birthday Dinner at Bob Evans

That evening, our little Fisher Hall crew — me, the guys, and the new girlfriends, Ginger, Bernadette, and Mariann — bundled up and walked a mile or so off campus to Bob Evans. The winter air was crisp, our laughter drifting into the night as we crunched along the sidewalk. Bob Evans was one of our favorite spots because of home-cooked meals, especially on cold, winter evenings. Over steaming plates of comfort food, we celebrated like only college kids can — loudly, joyfully, without a care in the world.

When we returned to campus, Mariann took the birthday cakes out to my Fisher Hall room, candles glowing in the dim light. Friends gathered close, the room filled with the sound of voices, the scent of frosting and coffee. Looking across at Mariann, with her smile soft and warm in the candlelight, I realized this birthday wasn’t just perfect — it was the kind you carry with you forever. I felt, in that moment, incredibly lucky.

Fall Final Examinations

The fall was coming to a close before I knew it once again. Final exams were held December 13th through 21st, and of course, my pre-med final examinations went until the very last day. I wasn’t back home at Fort Leavenworth until December 22nd. 

Just like last year, I can’t remember much about this Christmas either — other than the fact that all four of my sisters were home from college for the holidays with me. The weeks leading up to finals, followed by the rigorous examinations themselves, always left me in a fog for several days. And by the time I rested, Christmas was over.

I do remember calling Mariann in Wheaton, Illinois, every evening. In those days, long-distance telephone calls were expensive, with rates dropping 35% after 5 PM and 60% after 11 PM. To save money — and stay out of trouble — I would wait until 11 PM to call her.

New Year’s Eve at the Morrison’s Again

I visited the Morrison girls after Christmas, and once again we rang in the New Year together at their house — a warm, lively evening filled with laughter, music, and the comfort of familiar friendship. Yet beneath the cheerful surface, I was caught in a quiet tug-of-war. I found myself drawn to one of the Morrison girls, while at the same time thinking constantly about Mariann. Deep down, I already knew Mariann was the woman I would one day marry. 

Still, part of me wanted to experience a bit of college dating before settling into something so serious. The Catholic boy in me wrestled with guilt over such thoughts; the mix of emotions made for a season of both soaring highs and quiet lows.

Time to Return to Notre Dame

Drive Back to Campus

January 15th arrived far more quickly than I wanted. I loved being home with my four sisters, and of course, seeing the Morrison girls. This year, my parents encouraged me to catch a ride from Kansas City to South Bend with fellow Notre Dame students. I remember sitting in the front bench seat of a guy’s car with a female student between us. Didn’t know either one of them, so initially, the trip was a bit awkward for me. I recall that the trip took up about 9 hours or so. We arrived after dinner, so I had only a little time to unpack and chat before Spring Semester Registration the following morning. 

The Second Semester was as bad as the First

The second-semester course load was nearly identical in workload to the fall semester. The only change in my schedule was that Astronomy (Physics 210) had wrapped up after the first semester, and I replaced it with Bible Themes (Theology 218) in the spring. Every day was an academic gauntlet, and spare time was nearly nonexistent.

Spending More Time with Mariann

Despite the heavy course load, I happily shared all of my limited free time with Mariann. While I maintained my friendships with my Fisher Hall section mates, Mari quickly became the center of my world. We ate together, studied together, attended daily Mass together, and prayed together at the Grotto nearly every evening.

Our nights often ended with a late snack from “Food Sales” in the basement of Fisher Hall — usually something like a microwaved sandwich or vending machine chips and a Coca-Cola — before I walked Mariann back to her dormitory in the North Quad.

Mariann at Farley Hall

Mariann lived in Farley Hall that year, one of the all-female dorms on campus. After dropping her off, I’d head back to Fisher to study or collapse from exhaustion.

My First Dance with Mariann

I can still remember my very first dance at Notre Dame — my first real date. Fisher Hall was hosting its Fall Dance, and of course, I was taking Mariann. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress, and though the night held many small moments, one that still lingers in my memory is dancing with her to “Three Times a Lady” by the Commodores.

Lionel Richie and “Three Times a Lady”

The 1978 ballad, written by Lionel Richie, had just become the group’s first #1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 and also topped the soul chart. As we swayed to its slow, romantic rhythm, I already knew — somehow — that Mariann and I were meant to be. Even then, I wondered whether “Three Times a Lady” might someday be our First Dance song at our wedding.

Mari’s Brother John Visits Us at Notre Dame

Over time, I began to meet Mariann’s family. Her oldest brother, John, came to visit us at Notre Dame, and on one occasion, he took us out to dinner so he could get to know me. It was a nice restaurant — nicer than anything Mari and I could afford. At the end of the meal, John said, “I’ll pay for dinner; you two can leave the tip.” He put down cash for the check and stood up to leave. Mari and I looked at each other in panic. We checked our wallets and, between us, had just one dollar. As we were sneaking out, we left the crumpled bill on the table and followed John out the door, mortified but unsure what else to do.

We didn’t make it far. Just outside the restaurant, John realized he had forgotten his car keys and ran back in to retrieve them. When he returned, he was holding his keys in one hand and, in the other, the waitress’s outstretched hand with our sad little $1 tip still sitting in her palm. We were completely embarrassed — but we were broke.

Mari and I were Both Broke at School

Even though Mari came from a wealthy family, she didn’t receive a stipend or spending allowance. I was earning $100 a month from ROTC, but my father required me to send $50 of it home for my personal expenses. That left Mari and me living on about $50 a month combined — and even in the late 1970s, that didn’t go very far for two hungry, busy college students.

Another Exciting Year of Sports for the Fighting Irish

Thank God that tickets to all Fighting Irish home games were part of our tuition. Mari and I attended football and basketball games together, although we always had to sit in different sections due to the fact that I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. Notre Dame sports teams continued to have a great year during my sophomore year.

Fighting Irish Football Squad Wins at the 1979 Cotton Bowl

The Fighting Irish football team, led by legendary quarterback Joe Montana, delivered one of the most unforgettable comebacks in college football history. Despite a disappointing regular season that left them out of national title contention, Notre Dame finished strong with a trip to the Cotton Bowl on January 1, 1979, to face the Houston Cougars.

That day in Dallas was bitterly cold, with wind chills dipping below zero, and Montana — already battling the flu — suffered from hypothermia and had to be taken to the locker room. Trainers wrapped him in blankets and fed him warm chicken soup to bring his body temperature back up.

The Chicken Soup Game

Miraculously, Montana returned to the field in the fourth quarter with the Irish trailing 34–12. What followed was pure magic. Montana led three late scoring drives, capped by a last-second touchdown pass and a two-point conversion to win the game 35–34. The comeback sealed Joe’s reputation as “The Comeback Kid” and helped propel Notre Dame to a №6 national ranking by the end of the season. And the game has since been affectionately referred to as “The Chicken Soup Game.”

Fighting Irish Men’s Basketball

The basketball team also made headlines that year. The Notre Dame men’s basketball team, coached by Digger Phelps, posted a stellar 24–6 record and finished the season ranked #4 in the nation. With a dynamic roster that included sharp-shooter Kelly Tripuka and 6-foot-11-inch center Gill Salinas, the team played with speed, skill, and strength.

Classmates Kelly Tripuka and Gil Salinas

It was a thrill for me to sit in class with both Kelly Tripuka and Gill Salinas, knowing they would later take the court in nationally televised games. The energy on campus during basketball season was electric, with high expectations and intense pride in our Fighting Irish.

Fighting Irish Scholar-Athletes

Notre Dame prides itself on being home to true scholar-athletes, where academic excellence is expected of every student — regardless of how many touchdowns they score or rebounds they grab. The Irish have had more Academic All-Americans than any other school in baseball and women’s soccer, while also cracking the top-10 in football (third), men’s at-large (third), softball (eighth), men’s basketball (ninth), and men’s track/cross country (tenth).

Before every football game, when the public address announcer introduced each Fighting Irish starter, he also announced their academic major — and I was humbled by how many of them were Pre-Med, Engineering, or other tough majors. I was barely surviving my own academic load, and here were these guys playing top-tier NCAA football while preparing for med school.

I remember one day in Theology class with Gil Salinas, our star basketball center, when the professor asked him to stand and explain why he wasn’t traveling with the team. Gill quietly admitted that his GPA had slipped below the required standard, and he’d been benched until he brought it back up. Thank God he did — quickly.

Easter Holiday 1979

Easter Holiday was April 13–16 this year, and it was too close to summer break to afford another trip home. So Mariann invited me home to Wheaton, Illinois, to meet the rest of the family. I think we traveled by train from South Bend to Chicago and then took the commuter rail from downtown to Wheaton.

I was nervous as hell meeting Mr. John Schmitz. He was a large-framed, grey-haired gentleman. I remember that he grilled me like fathers do when they meet the new boyfriend for the first time. He had that no-nonsense German way about him, wearing a tweed jacket and smoking a pipe. Mariann’s mother, Sara(fina), was a beautiful Italian-American lady. She was very kind to me. 

Mariann came from a huge family. Only her sister Sue was married and not living at home. Everyone else was still living at home, including her older brother John. I was surprised that John was still living at home at his age, but I learned that John had been in a terrible automobile accident, and I think someone died, and he was living at home to save money to repay his father.

I think Mrs. Schmitz gave me John Jr’s bedroom. He lived in the basement and had a dark, wood-paneled bedroom with a king-size waterbed. I had never slept on a waterbed before that, and I never wanted one afterwards. I remember Mariann coming downstairs to visit me, and I was scared to death that Mr. Schmitz would pop in with a shotgun.

Back to Campus

Mari and I returned to Notre Dame on Easter Monday, with spring final exams just three weeks away. The last stretch of the semester was a blur of long nights in the library, cram sessions, and that familiar, gnawing anxiety that came with final examinations. I especially hated courses with papers and blue-book exams like Theology. When the last test was turned in, the relief was immediate — and quickly replaced by the bittersweet reality of saying goodbye for the summer.

Packing Up Dorm Rooms & Saying Goodbye

I surprised myself with how sad I felt saying goodbye to Mariann for the summer. I was still unsettled that I had fallen for someone this much, this soon — it wasn’t the carefree college experience I had imagined for myself. But it was too late. I had already met my other half, and anyone who knew us both would have agreed without hesitation that she was my “better half.”

I packed up both of our dorm rooms, carefully stacking boxes and making sure everything went into the storage the university provided — though I’m sure they charged us some fee for it. Then Mari’s brother, John, arrived to pick her up and take her home to Wheaton. He offered me a ride to the airport. Saying goodbye in front of him felt awkward, so I kept it short, but I already missed her before she was even out of sight.

Flight to Kansas City

As I boarded my flight home, I knew it was going to be a long summer. And judging by how much we were already talking about calling each other, I also knew it was going to come with some very expensive phone bills.

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