A bugler plays “Taps” at the graveside where Lou Holtz and his wife, Beth, have been laid to rest. Matt Cashore ’94
People came to Notre Dame from near and far on a snowy winter day to bid farewell to legendary former head football coach Lou Holtz.
A crowd gathered on campus on March 16 to mourn and mark the legacy of the beloved coach known for his outstanding teams and his wry, engaging speaking style. Every seat in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart was filled for the funeral Mass.
Holtz died at age 89 on March 4. The date of his death was the 138th anniversary of the birth of another legendary former Notre Dame head football coach, Knute Rockne.
The service was celebrated with University President Rev. Robert Dowd, CSC, ’87, presiding and Rev. John I. Jenkins, CSC, ’76, ’78M.A., president emeritus, giving the homily.
Holtz was an outstanding coach, an inspiring speaker and a remarkable wit, Jenkins said, but he was also a man of deep religious faith that guided his life. He was committed to excellence, not just for himself, but for everyone around him, the priest said.
Jenkins said he didn’t plan to paint a halo around Holtz’s head and gloss over his faults. “Those for whom Lou worked and those who worked for him knew he could be volatile and hard headed. His players can tell you that he was often impossibly, maddeningly demanding.”
Yet even that relentless side of Holtz came from a place of love, Jenkins said. He wanted those around him, the teams he coached, to be the very best. “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.”
“Lou was one of football’s best strategists, but he did not rely primarily on clever schemes and athletic ability. He built a culture in which his players believed in themselves, cared for one another and were committed to excellence. The results speak for themselves,” Jenkins said.
When Holtz was offered the job as head coach at the University of Minnesota, he asked his wife and children to silently pray about the matter and then they would together make a decision about the offer, Jenkins recalled. The Holtzes decided to go to Minnesota.
“We at Notre Dame will always be grateful for that prayer session, because during it the idea came to Lou to include in his Minnesota contract a clause that allowed him to go to Notre Dame if they called,” Jenkins said. “Lou did come to Notre Dame and gave us some of the best teams and most exciting games in our long history.”
Friends and family follow the hearse carrying Lou Holtz toward Cedar Grove Cemetery in a procession following the legendary football coach’s funeral. Peter Ringenberg.
And while at Notre Dame, despite a brutally demanding schedule, Holtz found time to attend Mass every morning, Jenkins said. “He was committed to the success of our football team, but he was just as committed to the education and faith for which this University stands.”
“We certainly mourn his loss. We will miss him,” Dowd said, but we also should celebrate that Holtz is now with God.
The funeral drew many of Holtz’s former players, as well as former Notre Dame head football coaches Brian Kelly and Charlie Weis ’78, current head coach Marcus Freeman, and former men’s basketball coach Digger Phelps.
Holtz was the Fighting Irish head football coach from 1986 through 1996. He was the last head coach to lead the Fighting Irish to a national championship, 37 years ago. The ’88 title season began a 64-9-1 (.871) run for Holtz at Notre Dame that included a 23-game win streak, back-to-back 12-win seasons for the first time in school history and a program record nine consecutive bowl game appearances.
Holtz won 249 games as a college head coach, with 100 victories at Notre Dame. He also led teams at William & Mary, North Carolina State, Arkansas, Minnesota and — after Notre Dame — South Carolina. But he was always most closely identified with Notre Dame. An ESPN college football analyst after he retired from coaching, Holtz was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2008.
As a coach, Holtz was intense and demanding, but also charming and folksy. He was a gifted speaker, offering quips and anecdotes that blended wisdom with gentle humor. He was known for publicly talking up opposing teams and creating an underdog mentality to motivate his players, even when his team was No. 1.
Holtz was known for such statements as: “I can’t believe that God put us on this earth to be ordinary.” And: “Don’t tell your problems to people; 80 percent don’t care, and the other 20 percent are glad you have them.” One of his most famous sayings was about the University: “For those who know Notre Dame, no explanation is necessary. For those who don’t, no explanation will suffice.”
Family members are celebrating how fortunate they were to have Lou Holtz in their lives for as long as they did, Skip Holtz ’87, the coach’s eldest son, said in a reflection during the funeral service.
His father came “from very humble beginnings in East Liverpool, Ohio, where he was a Depression baby,” Skip Holtz recalled. “They didn’t have a lot of money. His dad drove a bus. His mom was a nurse. And [Lou’s] newspaper route went to the family fund.”
His father “believed circumstances don’t define who you are, but choices do,” Skip Holtz said. “He was a builder. He found a way to believe in you more than you believed in yourself, with a positive attitude and an incredible passion.”
Mourners gathered at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart to pray for Holtz. Matt Cashore ’94
The former coach was known for asking those he met what he could do to help them. Skip Holtz urged the audience to take that lesson to heart, and to care more about doing for others than doing for one’s self. “When you think of Lou Holtz, find the person closest to you and ask them, ‘What can I do for you?’ If we can all do that, we will continue [Holtz’s] legacy by making this a little warmer, better place than we found it.”
At a public visitation the evening of March 15, the line of people extended from the basilica’s front entrance past the south wall of Sorin Hall half an hour before the doors opened. Inside, a line slowly snaked up one aisle and down another as mourners quietly waited their turn to express condolences to Holtz family members and pay their respects at the casket. An estimated 1,000 people attended the viewing.
The day of the funeral was accompanied by a late winter snowfall and wind chills in the teens. After the service, the basilica bells tolled as the mourners followed the hearse in a walking procession down Notre Dame Avenue to Cedar Grove Cemetery. The procession paused at the Notre Dame Circle, where the Notre Dame Marching Band trumpet section played “Notre Dame, Our Mother.”
For current Notre Dame undergraduates, the Holtz era took place long before they were born. Amid the falling snow, some students, employees and community residents stood along the sidewalk and silently watched the procession.
Fans dropped by to lay flowers and light candles at the Lou Holtz statue near the southwest corner of Notre Dame Stadium, next to the stadium gate that is named in his honor. Visitors snapped photos of each other near the statue and shared memories of big games during the Holtz era.
On the video board inside the stadium, a giant graphic read simply “Lou” with a pair of hands displaying extended index fingers in the gesture that fans traditionally did while chanting Holtz’s name during the marching band’s playing of the “1812 Overture” at home football games.
A lone bagpiper led the procession as it entered the cemetery. Holtz was laid to rest in a private ceremony next to his wife, Beth, who died in 2020. They were married nearly 59 years. Together, the couple had four children: Luanne, Skip, Kevin ’89 and Elizabeth ’91. The former coach is survived by those children, as well as nine grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
The gray headstone reads “Holtz,” below an image of the Golden Dome and above a cross. Beneath are the two names: “Beth Barcus, 1938-2020,” and “Louis Leo, 1937-2026.”
Margaret Fosmoe is an associate editor of this magazine.
