Recalling times of subversion
Gary Caruso
Capitol Comments
Today is the 50th birthday of one of an elite group known as the "Black Leprechauns." The Black Leprechauns were an ad hoc group of Notre Dame students residing on campus during the 1970s. It was a secret group who carried out their missions in the black of night long after sundown. Their mission — terror and mischief.
For fear that today's University officials might ban this birthday boy's children from future admittance, I shall call him "Mike."
He and a half dozen others were students at a time when the military draft and a tour of Vietnam awaited them after graduation. They were not the type who would burn Notre Dame buildings in protest of the war, but they, like every student during that time, needed to release their frustrations and fears.
It began one early spring evening when the ducks on the lake were more chatty than usual. Boredom had overtaken the dorm section before someone discovered several M-80s from the previous summer. The first act of terrorism was a simple delayed firecracker explosion in the stairwell. Attach a lit cigarette to the fuse, place under an old steam heater and sit with your friends when the charge ignited several minutes later. Plenty of witnesses for an alibi and none for a conviction.
Following several dorm bombings, boredom set in again. It was time to recruit commandos for campus-wide missions. One evening at dinner, someone complained that the Saint Mary's shuttle bus was never on time, nor did the women on it ever seem friendly. The first external target had been identified.
That evening a team ascertained that the tunnel between the Rockne putting green and the golf course was the perfect strike area with several escape options. Vehicles were timed as they passed the target area. The operational profile evaluated wick burning ratios to the tossing distance of firecrackers to maximize simultaneous explosions. Tactical intelligence demanded that participants wear black to hinder detection. The team assembled about 10 p.m. looking like the Mission Impossible cast.
At 10:20, with Leprechauns in place, the bus passed the target area. The team practiced a mock run of the operation and worked out the minor bugs of the plan. At 10:50, the operation went live without a hitch as the riders screamed and ducked behind their seats. The adrenaline rush fueled another planned mission.
That weekend, the Leprechauns again targeted the bus, but in more dramatic fashion. Moving to the road to Saint Mary's near the Notre Dame cemetery, the operational profile required a wooden sawhorse and road flare block the road at a point where bushes hid the Leprechauns on both sides. Someone joked that when the bus stopped maybe they could hijack it and take the women to Mishawaka.
When the driver slowed for the roadblock, the Leprechauns launched their fiercest barrage of firecrackers to date. Again, riders ducked and screamed as packs of Chinese firecrackers exploded at a furious rate around the bus.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! One firecracker pack exploded on the roof as the driver floored his pedal and crashed through the barricade into the darkness and safety. Boy had the Black Leprechauns exacted revenge against SMC chicks!
Terrorists soon discover that supplies are the lifeline of success. Alas, the Leprechauns had exhausted their means of terror. However, one of the Leprechauns worked in the dining hall and recalled the grosses of eggs stored in the basement. Appropriate eggs and the Leprechauns would fight the snobbishness of their sister school another day.
After dinner the following week, a Black Leprechaun turned the latch of a South Dining Hall window so that later that night it could be opened from the outside. At 2 a.m. a commando team entered the building, found a gross of eggs and exited without detection. The new supply demanded a new operational profile.
That Friday evening, the Leprechauns shimmied up the flagpole of what is now the Notre Dame Security Building and laid in wait behind the bright floodlights on the roof. Eggs showered the shuttle bus during several runs by the location.
Eventually Notre Dame police arrived, but to the Leprechauns' delight, the police could neither see the roof nor could they figure the physics of the trajectory. Since the egg splatter appeared across the street from the building, they searched the trees and Lyons Hall. It took everything the Leprechauns had to muffle their laughter from the police.
In the 1970s President Nixon's campaign treasurer walked the streets of Washington with a million dollars cash in a briefcase. It was a time when the war raged in Vietnam. Fellow students had been killed at Kent State, and life was unlike anything before or since. At Notre Dame, a group known as the Black Leprechauns coped with life and their possible deaths following graduation.
So to my good friend, "Mike," happy 50th birthday from one of your fellow Leprechauns ... er, I mean Domers.
Gary J. Caruso, Notre Dame '73, served in President Clinton's administration and denies ever having to resort to firecrackers in his role as a congressional and public affairs director. His column appears every other Friday, and his Internet address is Hottline@aol.com.
The opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Friday, March 23, 2001
