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God. Country. Notre Dame.
Three pillars that have shaped Our Lady’s University for 184 years. No figure has embodied them more fiercely than the late, great Lou Holtz, who passed away on Mar. 4, 2026, at the age of 89.
The son of a bus driver, Holtz grew up dirt-poor in East Liverpool, Ohio. As a young boy, his newspaper routes contributed to the family fund. But if you ask him, he was born with a “silver spoon” in his mouth thanks to the strong influence of his parents, Andrew and Anne.
That mindset carried him further than any circumstance did. Holtz graduated from Kent State University in 1959 after walking on to the football team. Soon after, he began his storied coaching career.
Holtz is most well-known for being the ultimate program resurrector. In his first head coaching gig, he guided a struggling College of William & Mary team to a bowl win. Soon after, he led a previously 3-7 North Carolina State University squad to a Peach Bowl triumph. Holtz’s tenures at the University of Arkansas and the University of Minnesota followed similar blueprints before he reached the promised land:
The University of Notre Dame.
It was in South Bend, beneath the gaze of Touchdown Jesus, that Holtz became an icon. He won exactly 100 games with Notre Dame and famously delivered the 1988 National Championship.
Holtz’s accomplishments at Notre Dame are made all the more commendable considering the Irish had fallen on hard times before he came to town. Notre Dame had floated in mediocrity throughout the early ’80s. Once Holtz arrived, everything changed. He installed the “Play Like a Champion Today” sign that has become synonymous with Notre Dame football. In just three years, the motto became reality. The Irish were champions once again.
In a place where legend looms, Holtz is etched into eternity. His statue outside of Gate D at Notre Dame Stadium symbolizes his status as an immortal.
But all of his stats and accolades only scratch the surface of the true legacy Holtz left behind.
A lifelong Catholic, Notre Dame was always the dream for Holtz. At Minnesota, he built a clause into his contract: He couldn’t leave his post with the Gophers early unless Notre Dame came knocking on his door. Fate has it — in one of Fr. Theodore Hesburgh’s final acts for the University, he offered Holtz the job.
It was a match made in Heaven. At the Mass of the Christian Burial for Lou Holtz on Mar. 16 at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, it was his devout Catholic faith that was most remembered.
“Faith and prayer were not additions to Lou Holtz’s life,” said former University President Fr. John Jenkins, C.S.C, “They were its foundation.”
Jenkins also noted that despite Holtz’s rigorous schedule, he still always found time for daily Mass.
Most importantly, in classic Lou Holtz fashion, he practiced what he preached. Holtz didn’t go through the motions in his faith. That would be the antithesis of the man he was. Rather, he actively lived out Christian virtues of charity and love in his everyday life.
“He treated everyone he encountered with respect and consideration, especially those in need,” said Fr. Jenkins. “Lou and his wife Beth were early benefactors of the South Bend Center of the Homeless. Every year, after the season ended, he came to speak to the residents telling them about his own struggles and encouraging them as they got back on their feet.”
Sometimes, Holtz would take it a step further. While walking in big cities, he’d more often than not be approached by panhandlers. Whereas many in his famed position would ignore them, Holtz stopped in his tracks and treated them with dignity.
“Rather than 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,” said Fr. Jenkins. “He would then give them $200 to enable them to do that.”
Holtz was by no means a perfect man, however.
“He was a complicated man,” said his son, Skip, in the eulogy. “I think everybody in this Church has seen a different side of him. As his children, we’ve seen them all.”
Those sides were many: demanding, tough, scrappy, hard-nosed, and intense.
But beneath every demand, every edge and every witty insult was a deep and genuine love.
“Lou could be hard to manage, hard to work for, hard to play for and sometimes hard to live with. Lou would be the first to admit these things. Yet, even that relentlessly demanding side of Lou Holtz came from a place of love,” said Fr. Jenkins.
“He wanted those around him and the teams he coached to be their very best. As his son Skip put it, ‘Lou demanded so much of you because he believed in you even more than you believed in yourself.’ 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.”
That philosophy, rooted in becoming the best version of yourself, is what made him a Hall of Fame coach and even better man.
For Holtz, the three pillars of God, Country and Notre Dame weren’t just words inscribed on the wall at the Basilica; they were a way of life.
The greatest mark of a man is not how many football games he won but how he made people feel. Through his unrelenting Catholic faith, Holtz made everyone he encountered feel like they could do more, achieve more and be more.
That’s the Notre Dame way.
That’s Louis Leo Holtz.