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Remembering Our Roots
December 2001
by Maureen O'Keefe Doran '71MSN

Well, time to start over. That’s what I said to myself after September 11.You see, being compulsive (as we nurses tend to be!), I had already prepared this article.

Indeed, weeks ago, in the original piece, I had begun by talking about my first year as chair of the AYA board of governors. Working with Jeff Brenzel, AYA executive director, and his staff of 32 in combination with the alumni volunteers on the board of governors has been exciting, challenging, and grueling. This team, who are individually and collectively talented beyond belief, produces results in alumni affairs that are truly dramatic.

Then, of course, the Tercentennial! I had outlined each of the major national events of the year. Beginning with “The Opening of Yale” in October 2000, I recounted how 35,000 of our neighbors took advantage of Yale’s open house to see, experience, and appreciate Yale. I went on to talk about our April 2001 celebration of “300 Years of Creativity and Diversity” when 1,700 alumni and guests arrived on campus to be immersed in academic seminars, fireside chats, musical compositions, and a spectacular grand banquet. Next were our international events: President Levin in China for meetings with government and academic leaders, concluding his visit with a festive alumni gathering in Hong Kong; the Yale Alumni Chorus touring Europe in July with performances in St. Petersburg, Moscow, Wales, and culminating in a grand concert with the London Philharmonic at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Of course, I wanted to remember the Tercentennial Committee, led by Secretary and Vice President Linda Koch Lorimer and her team who, in combination with the AYA, faculty, alumni and administrators, orchestrated these events. I never got to my conclusion, the October 2001 “Tercentennial of Yale University” to talk about what I was sure would be a magnificent finale to an incredible year.

For, you see, all of this was composed before September 11. On that date, events took place within our country that forever changed our lives. We reeled as a people, shocked by the carnage and the hate that reigned that day. We cried. We raged. We were stung with loss: the tragic loss of lives and, perhaps, a way of life. We were faced with terror and death.

So I wondered, as I revisited this article, what could I possibly say to you now that would matter? What could I write that would express anything appropriate to you as interested Yale alumni? And then it came to me.

In all of this, we have each other and we have Yale. There is continuity within our alma mater that has survived 300 years. In this continuity, there is a comfort with our connection to those who have come before us. And now, as we are forced to live with tension and uncertainty, we do so forging a link with those who will follow our path. Through Yale, we share an indivisible bond that tragedy and death can never erase.

I will end this with a poem written by my father upon the death of my grandfather. This work is a loving prayer from a son. It is about a person’s life, his legacy and the future. It is much like Yale. solid and certain. On behalf of my father, I dedicate these words to all of our Yale brothers and sisters who lost their lives in this tragedy and to those they loved: their parents, spouses, colleagues and classmates. But mostly this poem is dedicated to their legacy and their children. It is a poem of hope after September 11, 2001.

A Letter on Introduction
by Edward A. O’Keefe

Dear God, I think You know this Gael—
In fact, I’m sure you do;
Your Mother must have mentioned him
Quite frequently to You.

Don’t you recall creating him
From hallowed Irish clay?
Of course You do long years ago—
T'was in the month of May.

When he arrives, please promise me
You’ll weigh well what he brings—
Not deeds of fame nor gloried name.
But simple cherished things;

An earnest soul, an Irish smile,
A Faith on fire and strong;
A mouth that mirrors charity,
A wisp of Irish song;
A love for Patrick’s sainted isle,
A life on Peter’s creed;
A hand for every friend or foe,
Two hands for those in need.

I am the bearer’s son, dear God;
In all humility,
I pray to live so that my son
Can write the same for me.

Note to Readers

This article is provided by the Association of Yale Alumni.

Although the Yale Alumni Magazine is not part of the AYA, we are pleased to give this page to the AYA every issue as a service to our readers.—Eds.

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