In August 1967, six strangers arrived at UD — but we left as family.

Sophomore year, Ned Hemmelgarn ’71 and I moved with five seniors into 127 Evanston Ave., a two-story former family home. Inside, a vestibule led to a paneled living room, a brown couch, a rabbit-eared TV and a Red Cross flag above the fake fireplace. The flag became a tradition: Each resident signed his name before graduation.

The flag became a tradition: Each resident signed his name before graduation.

The first floor held a weight room with a beer refrigerator and one bedroom. A door there led to a dank basement few dared to enter. Upstairs were two bedrooms, the only bathroom and a kitchen with a table and eight chairs.

When the seniors graduated, Ned and I invited Chuck Krebs ’71 and Charlie Longua ’71 to move in. Tom Seesan ’71, who had transferred, returned to UD and joined us. That junior year, Ned married Kathy and moved to an apartment behind the house. We asked Mark Henlein ’71 to join us, adding needed Queen City flair.

Our home cultivated the Marianist family spirit of fellowship, respect and hospitality. That spirit transformed six strangers into a band of brothers.

Dinner was mandatory fellowship time, and we had two cooks. Tom and I prepared substantial meals.

From the living room, Chuck would shout: “What are ya’ll cooking tonight?”

One semester, Ned brought us a side of beef from his farm. That semester, the cooks prepared different types of beef — everything from hamburger to filet mignon. Cleanup fell to Chuck, Mark and Charlie, who dreaded my meals because I used every pot and pan, not to mention the stove’s disastrous condition. Luckily, Tom was the careful, neater and better chef.

One afternoon, a Franciscan priest visited and stayed for dinner. He loved the meal and listened as we traded stories and nicknames. As he left, he said, “You act like brothers. Your house is a happy place!”

We shared expenses and divided chores. When the owner visited, he praised how well we cared for the house.

Grinning, Mark or Tom — the charmers of the house — would say, “We love this house. We’re taking care of it for you.”

Our hospitality extended outward. Ned and Kathy often joined us for meals. In our senior year, Casey, a rescue kitten, became part of the family, doted on by “tough guys” Charlie and Chuck. We shared a pre-Thanksgiving meal with the women next door. Charlie welcomed the Kappa Chi sorority and 20 rushees who slept in our living room. We even offered the basement for initiation for Chuck’s fraternity, Alpha Kappa Pi.

On our last evening, after Chuck, Charlie, Ned and Mark received their Army second lieutenant bars, we signed our names in red ink on the flag — a final act of brotherhood.

Casey and I were the last to leave after graduation. When the landlord arrived with new tenants, one asked if everything stayed.

“Everything stays, except I take the flag and the cat.”

“Everything stays,” I said, “except I take the flag and the cat.”

As brothers, we remain close, sharing joys and losses. Together, we chose to tell our story.

In memory of our brother, Ned Hemmelgarn ’71. Requiescat in pace, Ned!

Illustration by Kevin M. Johnson

A version of this article appears in print in the Spring 2026 University of Dayton Magazine, Page 42. EXPLORE THE ISSUE — MORE ONLINE