(OSV News) — One by one, inside the University of Notre Dame’s Basilica of the Sacred Heart March 16, a flock of priests gently patted the pall atop the casket as they descended from the altar following the funeral Mass for legendary football coach Lou Holtz.
The gentle yet firm sign of respect, which invoked an image of a heavenly high five, seemed most appropriate given the life Holtz had led.
Holtz’s legacy
However, as Notre Dame’s president, Holy Cross Father Robert Dowd, told the packed basilica, football stood yards behind Holtz’s most important legacy.
“We are here to commend to God a man who was a Hall of Fame football coach, a United States Medal of Freedom recipient, one of the most inspiring speakers of his generation, a man of remarkable wit who appeared regularly on late-night television shows, and, in his later years, a celebrated sports commentator,” Father Dowd said. “That was the Lou Holtz the world knew, and all the accolades are justified.
“Today, however, in this funeral Mass, I want to speak about another side of Lou Holtz that was not always on public display. I will speak of a man of faith whose faith guided his life; a man of love who showed that love to everyone he encountered; and a man committed to excellence not just for himself, but for everyone around him.”
Holtz, described as a motivator, taskmaster and perfectionist, championed his Catholic faith both privately and publicly. He died March 4 in Orlando, Florida, after more than a month in hospice care. He was 89.
One of the most decorated college football coaches of all time, Holtz completed a career of more than five decades with 249 victories, a national championship during his 11 years at Notre Dame, numerous prestigious awards, and the distinction of being the only coach to lead six programs to bowl games and four programs to top-15 final rankings.
Father Dowd painted a human portrait of a man who grew up in Ohio during the Depression yet rose to uncommon heights in the game he loved.
“My intention today is not to paint a halo around Lou’s head and gloss over his faults,” Father Dowd said. “Lou’s tough love was indeed genuine and deep love. He wanted you to be the very best version of yourself and refused to accept anything less.”
Father Dowd spoke about Holtz’s generosity. He would travel to help former players build businesses and, with his late wife, Beth, supported the South Bend Center for the Homeless and the Lou and Beth Holtz Homeless Center in Columbia, South Carolina.
Liz Holtz told Father Dowd that she recalled her father approaching panhandlers in cities not with spare change, but with encouragement and support.
“Rather than simply handing over spare change, Lou would give the person a vintage Lou Holtz pep talk about cleaning up, getting some new clothes and getting their life back,” Father Dowd said. “And then he would give them $200 to help them do just that.”
Living the Gospel
Holtz, who attended daily Mass regardless of schedule, lived the Gospel message.
“‘I give you a new commandment,’ Jesus told us. ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’ Lou’s daily effort to put that into practice grew out of a faith that was the center of his life.”
Faith and prayer, said Father Dowd, were not “additions” to Holtz’s life. “They were its foundation,” he said. “They made him the man he was.”
Family was “the anchor of his life,” Father Dowd said, his “most cherished and indispensable team.” Beth, his wife of 59 years, was his “partner, confidante, counselor, the love of his life. It could not always have been easy to be married to someone with Lou’s charisma, drive and uncompromising commitment to excellence. Beth’s calm, prayerful, steady, strong demeanor was the perfect match.
“Lou Holtz made people around him better,” Father Dowd added. “Beth Holtz made Lou better.”
Echoing his father’s legacy, his son Skip — one of seven pallbearers — delivered a eulogy.
“For 89 years, he had the opportunity to live his ‘dash,'” Skip said. “He was a complicated man. I think everybody in this church maybe has seen a different side of him. As his children, we’ve seen them all — and I mean all of them. He was complicated, yet he was simple. He was old school. He believed that circumstances don’t define who you are — but choices do.”
Skip admired how his father embodied Notre Dame’s values.
“He loved his family,” he said, referring to his four children, nine grandchildren, two great-grandchildren and late wife. “He was an author of five books … served in the Army … a builder.
“If he were a shoe salesman, he would fit everybody in this church with a size 24 DD, because he believed you could grow into it.”
John Knebels writes for OSV News from suburban Philadelphia.
