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Former Notre Dame law dean, who became a priest for prisoners, dies

Link helped to start Center for the Homeless

Joseph Dits
South Bend Tribune
The Rev. David Link poses in front of the South Bend Community Re-entry Center in South Bend several years ago. Santiago Flores, South Bend Tribune file

SOUTH BEND — After his wife of 45 years died in 2003, David Link took his clout as the former dean of the University of Notre Dame’s Law School and decided to become a servant to the “the least, the last, the lost and the lonely.” 

He became a priest, dedicated to prison inmates of northern Indiana. Even among murderers, he saw their humanity.  

It wasn’t such a shocking career twist from the man who joined Notre Dame and local officials to start the Center for the Homeless when a South Bend hotel for poor folks burned in 1988. 

The Rev. Link died Oct. 28 after a brief, non-COVID-related decline in health. He was 85. 

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Born in Ohio, he came to Notre Dame, his alma mater, to teach law in 1970 and five years later, became the Law School’s dean, a role he held for 24 years, overseeing two major building expansions, growth in its libraries and addition of research centers.  

He took leave from 1990 to 1992 to serve as founding president and vice chancellor of the University of Notre Dame Australia.  

Former Law School Dean Patricia O'Hara said Link’s vision “placed the Law School on the map nationally" and his support of the London program “planted the seeds for our current global outreach.” 

G. Marcus Cole, who’s been dean of Notre Dame’s law school since 2019, credits Link with framing the focus of Notre Dame’s law school today. Link came up with its current motto: “We train a different kind of lawyer.” “Different,” Cole said, meant the kind of lawyer Link was — “committed to service and others.” The university quotes Link, too, as saying that “moral and ethical questions” should be raised “with the same intensity that the substantive and procedural issues are discussed.” 

“That is deeply ingrained in everything we do at the law school,” Cole said. “Everything is a reflection of his Catholic faith, to the people and to the law.” 

Link also guided Cole’s own career path. Cole said Link had been a close friend and mentor since they met 24 years ago at a law school hiring conference in Washington, D.C. Cole applied for a position at Notre Dame but instead opted for a faculty job at Stanford University. They stayed in touch, thanks to Link’s openness as an “incredibly warm person.” And while Cole spent 22 years at Standford, he would call on Link for career advice since they were both Catholics teaching law.  

Cole recalls his first day at Notre Dame in his office when Link visited and told him: “I always knew you were perfect for Notre Dame. But, more importantly, that Notre Dame was perfect for you.”  

When Cole asked, Link said he never took a day off from his ministry in seven different prisons, saying of the inmates, “They don’t get a day off, so why should I?” 

Link continued visits to prisons until such visits stopped for the pandemic, according to his family. 

In a 2017 story in The Tribune, Link told writer Virginia Black that, at his wife’s suggestion, he went to teach a class to inmates at Indiana State Prison in Michigan City on how to treat a lawyer. He nervously sat with 65 lifers, all in for murder, and was blown away, saying, "They had deep thoughts, and I really enjoyed it." 

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Soon afterwards, his wife, Barbara, died of cancer. And then, as his prison talks grew popular in the prisons, he found encouragement from Gary's bishop and others to become a priest.

“My mom had a way of quietly planting seeds in my dad in a way that could help him make use of his gifts,” one of their daughters, Teran Trauernicht, of Baton Rouge, La., said. 

Before they were married, Link had considered the priesthood, and Barbara had considered life as a nun. They both advocated for civil and human rights, often taking their kids to volunteer at local shelters. 

“Barbara was the power under his throne,” Bill Odell, a long-time fellow parishioner with the Links at Little Flower Catholic Church, said. “Dave succeeded generally because of his wife.” 

Inmates knew Link as “Father Dave” or “Doc” for his five doctoral degrees. 

In a 2013 biography about his life, titled "Camerado, I give you my hand," there is Link's own 10-point "A Crime Peace Plan," which in 2017 he said he was hoping to revise. He favored educating rather than keeping many prisoners locked up for more time. 

"We ought to substitute the mission of healing for the mission of punishment," Link said in the 2017 story, noting that, at the time, 97% of prisoners would be released. "Now do you want somebody who has been in a long time and is bitter and will blow your head off in a traffic situation? Or do you want someone who is healed?" 

Link and Barbara had been active in Little Flower, which they'd attended since 1970, according to parish records. He’d served as president of the parish council in 2006.  

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When the parish launched a capital campaign to build a new parish center and chapel 20 years ago, it was Link who convinced the local Catholic diocese and bishop to provide a loan — and ultimately made the project possible, Odell, who led the campaign, said. 

“For as powerful and important a person as he was, he was always so very humble and approachable,” Paula Giver, the parish’s former operations and finance manager, said. 

She recalled how Link celebrated Thanksgiving Day Mass at Little Flower after her mother had died. In his prayers to consecrate the holy eucharist, Giver said, “He mentioned St. Barbara, as he always did (for his late wife), but he also included St. Rose (for Giver's mom).” 

The Links raised five children, which includes a foreign exchange student who was like a daughter. Even through his years as a priest, Trauernicht said, the man who used to ride Cedar Point’s roller coasters was still their “silly dad.” 

A funeral Mass is set for 9:30 a.m. Nov. 8 at Notre Dame’s Basilica of the Sacred Heart. It will also be livestreamed via a link in the obituary at palmerfuneralhomes.com.