Karl Ameriks – 50th Reunion Essay

Karl Ameriks

18945 Apache Dr.

South Bend, IN 46637

karl.p.ameriks.2@nd.edu

Spouse(s): Geraldine (Benjamin) Ameriks (1970 –  )

Child(ren): Michael (1974); Kevin (1978)

Grandchild(ren): Nolan (2009); Jack (2015); Maude (2015)

Education: Yale BA (1969); Ph. D. (1973)

Career: McMahon-Hank Professor of Philosophy, University of Notre Dame (emeritus)

College: Branford

Looking back: Not too much change can be OK.

Coming from a public high school near Detroit, I felt that just being at Yale was a tremendous privilege. I tried to make the most of every day and was fortunate in having wonderful roommates (Armbrust, Bernstein, Woolery, Norton) and advisors (Edwards, Carlson, Hoy). I was one of about eight entering students who selected the Early Concentration in philosophy program that was offered in Branford. I loved going to class: hearing Frei, Leonhard, Fogelin, Findlay, Demetz, etc.—and seeing masters such as Scully and Cozza too. I’ve stayed in philosophy ever since and, after a year in Germany (missing the Bobby Seale events), a high draft number, and a Yale PhD in 1973, I took a position at the huge and excellent Notre Dame department, from which I retired as a chaired professor in 2016. The one big, lucky change in life was meeting my wife (Geraldine Benjamin, Smith ’69) at a summer job at Exeter and, before long, getting married and starting a family (two sons—ND ’96 and ’00—and three grandchildren now). Keeping up with old friends, even after returning to my Midwestern roots, has meant a lot.

Our times were definitely extraordinary. With the ’68 election and all the troubles elsewhere, and the way that the inimitable Kingman Brewster met with us regularly and steered the university boldly into the future, it truly felt like a special place to be, one that seemed destined to be captured unforgettably by Bull Tales. Brewster had a special interest in Branford students (seeing us perhaps as canaries in the coal mine of infiltrating French thought) and in the lively atmosphere that the Master, John Trinkaus, brought with him upon return from the Paris events of spring ’68. Branford had an especially large group of philosophy students and fellows, and I still keep up with my first teachers from there, professors Carr and Harries. Outside of Branford, what I recall best are members of the class of ’68—for example, Sam Savage (now a successful novelist), and some fellow Michiganders: Ken Krabbenhoft (a Spanish/Portuguese scholar) and Stephen Darwall (who recently returned to Yale as a professor), as well as the hockey hero Bob Ufer (’71). I wonder what happened to the many others who concerned themselves with philosophy, which was one of the most popular majors then and attracted visitors such as Hannah Arendt and Herbert Marcuse. It’s been an honor to be invited back to Yale every decade since ’73, and the last visit at the retirement of Karsten Harries in 2017 was especially meaningful. It was also heartening to see that downtown New Haven suddenly seemed so much better than anytime since I first visited it in 1963. I can’t express how much I owe Yale and how good it is to see it thriving, even though there now seem to be more threats than ever to genuine educational institutions everywhere.