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Summer 2019 magazine cover--World War II soldier

Summer 2019

Features: J.H. Carroll Jr., We Remember You, by Eileen Bjorkman; Revlon, 280 Bubbly, by Katherine Gamble '19; And Yet, by Philip Metres; Three Pilots, One Stage, by Katelyn Best; and Think Big, Think New—profiles of five Entrepreneur Scholars on the occasion of the program's 20th anniversary.

Read It

Editor's Letter - Summer 2019


I DIDN’T KNOW what to tell the writer. She was working on a book about the US military’s truly incredible efforts—even decades after a conflict had ended—to find the remains of those who had fallen behind enemy lines. I had full confidence in this writer’s expertise and fantastic craft, but we didn’t have quite the right focus for Portland magazine.

So I decided to go for a walk. I went out to the Praying Hands War Memorial. What a beautiful place—those hands. And what a challenging place—those jagged edges, the crumbling brick, reminders, all, of war and our fragility in the midst of it. I started writing down the names etched on the bricks.

I stopped for a moment at J. Carroll. I know a J. Carroll. If I’d been of a different generation, this might’ve been my friend, and this hypothetical truth gave me pause. I put the list of names on my desk and sent out a few questions to our archivist and our ROTC administrators. I still hadn’t figured out how to help the writer tell the story I knew she could tell.

But the day wasn’t done with me yet.

My family and I had been invited to celebrate Mass on campus for the Feast of St. Joseph. (It was a lovely Mass, though truth be told I missed most of it chasing after my three-year-old.) Dinner followed. There weren’t seat assignments, so I plopped myself down in an open spot and introduced myself to a woman named Carol. After learning I was the editor of this magazine, she said, “I have a story I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

She told me that her uncle who went to UP died in the Pacific Theater during World War II. He was a pilot, and his remains had never been found, though the military had recently contacted her for her DNA. “The memorial at UP is the only marker of his life on US soil, so it means a lot to my family,” she said.

“What was his name?” I asked.

“John Carroll.”

Readers, I nearly fell off my chair.

I told her that I’d written his name down only hours before, that his name was sitting on my desk, that I was somehow, somehow working on her uncle’s story before I knew his story.

I raced in the next morning to tell all my colleagues about Carol and her uncle. I then wrote to our writer to tell her I had someone for her to call. “J.H. Carroll Jr., We Remember You” is the story.

— Jessica Murphy Moo

Read the full issue at ISSUU or explore the stories