A Legacy Moment
Nicholas and Lorraine Vogelsang
By Dianne Brown, Outreach Archivist
Nicholas and Lorraine (Mulvaney) Vogelsang were both born in 1921, just five months apart, and both answered their nation’s call during World War II. Their paths through the war could hardly have been more different. Lorraine served stateside as a member of the Women’s Army Corps, while Nicholas faced the dangers of combat in Europe, where he was captured during the Battle of the Bulge and spent approximately four months as a German prisoner of war. Yet after the war, their lives came together in a marriage that lasted 60 years.
Lorraine, a native of Fairfax, Ohio, grew up during the Great Depression as one of nine children. When her mother became ill, Lorraine left high school shortly before graduation to help care for her 8 younger siblings. She later worked at a local laundry before deciding to join the military.
In February 1943, Lorraine entered the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC). Later that year, she transitioned into the newly established Women’s Army Corps (WAC). She left Cincinnati by train for basic training at Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. Her military assignments included training as a baker, working as a clerk and briefly receiving butcher training. She also helped plan and carry out events at the Fort Oglethorpe Club before being assigned to Lubbock Army Airfield in Texas. She even appeared on a World War II recruitment poster, which unfortunately was never used. Lorraine remained in the United States throughout her service, ultimately leaving the Army as a sergeant in August 1945. She was awarded several service medals.
Nicholas’s wartime experience took him into the heart of the conflict. Serving as a corporal with the U.S. Army’s 9th Armored Division, he was captured during the Battle of the Bulge, one of the most significant and brutal battles on the Western Front. During his four months in captivity, he experienced hunger even while picking potatoes until the Germans were ultimately pushed back and he was liberated by Allied Forces in the Spring of 1945. Nicholas received numerous awards including the Bronze Star.
After the war, Nicholas went to work at Cincinnati Incorporated and stayed for 36 years. He remained active in the Cincinnati-area POW organization and was a life member and former commander of the Disabled American Veterans. But perhaps his most enduring role was that of husband and father. Nicholas and Lorraine raised three children—Mary Ann, Nicholas Jr. and Franklin—and built a family together over six decades of marriage.
Nicholas and Lorraine’s story began with a chance encounter. According to family recollections, Nicholas was spending time at a local pool hall when he noticed Lorraine walking along the sidewalk outside. Pointing her out to the other men, he reportedly declared, “I’m going to marry her someday.” One of the men introduced them, setting in motion a relationship that would lead to 60 years of marriage.
Nicholas was happy gardening, golfing and bowling. They celebrated many family meals with extended family and made sure everyone was always well fed.
Nicholas died in 2007 at age 86. Lorraine lived to celebrate her 100th birthday before her death in 2022 at age 100.
Today, both rest at Gate of Heaven Cemetery next to each other in Section 2 with an American flag and a POW flag on their grave makers. Their story reminds us that history is not made only by famous names. Sometimes, its most compelling stories belong to ordinary people who answered extraordinary calls. Nicholas and Lorraine Vogelsang served their country in very different ways, endured the challenges of war and returned to build a life centered on family. Together, their legacy is one of courage, service and love.
Gather With Us This Season
Tidings of Comfort and Joy – An Advent Concert Featuring Local Parish Choirs
December 4 | 7:00 PM | Admin. Building
Join us for a special Advent evening of fellowship and sacred music, featuring performances by the choirs of Ursuline Academy, St. Columban, and St. Elizabeth Ann Seton.
Enjoy complimentary appetizers and refreshments as we gather in the spirit of the season.
‘Tis the Season to Give
Gate of Heaven will be accepting donations to help provide car seats for Pregnancy Center Plus.
In the spirit of giving, Gate of Heaven will joyfully match your contributions, doubling the blessing for young families in need.
Mercy Day with St. Gertrude School
By Corrine Rutzke, Outreach Associate
On Friday, October 2, we were honored to welcome students from St. Gertrude School for Mercy Day, led by teacher Matt Schlottman and Fr. Louis Bethea. Students offered both spiritual and corporal works of mercy by praying for souls and caring for the resting place of a person interred at Gate of Heaven. Each student also chose the name of a soul to adopt for a year and they will pray for them throughout the school year.
We are grateful that our sacred grounds can be a place of education and faith formation, teaching the next generation the beautiful Catholic tradition of praying for the deceased.
Please continue to remember and pray for the souls you have adopted throughout your life.
A Prayer for the Dead
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May their souls, and all the souls of the faithful departed,
through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
In the quiet of a Catholic cemetery, we are reminded: we remember because we love, we pray because we hope, and we hope because Christ promises resurrection and eternal life.
First Thessalonians: Hope That Makes Sense
By Deacon Tim Schutte, Outreach / Evangelization Manager
Among the many Scripture readings proclaimed at a Catholic funeral, one has always spoken to me with particular clarity. It comes from St. Paul’s First Letter to the Thessalonians:
“We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” — 1 Thessalonians 4:13–14
The Church offers a beautiful richness of Scripture for the funeral liturgy—66 readings from which families may choose for the Liturgy of the Word – First Reading, Psalm, Second Reading, Gospel Acclamation and Gospel. Each speaks in its own way to death, eternal life, and the promise of Christ. Yet I continually return to First Thessalonians because St. Paul is so direct: we grieve, but we do not grieve without hope.
Notice that Paul does not tell us not to grieve. Christianity never asks us to pretend death does not hurt. When someone we love dies, there is an empty chair, a familiar voice we no longer hear, a hand we can no longer hold. Faith does not erase that pain. Instead, it places our grief within the greater promise of the Resurrection.
I think we sometimes misunderstand hope. We can reduce it to optimism—the belief that somehow everything is going to turn out all right. But life teaches us otherwise. Some illnesses are not cured. Some relationships are not repaired. People we love die. Calvary is real.
Václav Havel described hope as something deeper: not the certainty that things will turn out well, but the conviction that things ultimately make sense, regardless of how they turn out. For me, that comes very close to our Christian understanding of Resurrection.
Our hope rests not in circumstances, but in a Person: Jesus Christ, crucified and risen. Christ did not save us by avoiding suffering. He entered into it. He carried the Cross. He experienced pain and death. And then came Easter.
That is why Christian hope can stand even at a grave.
We bring our beloved dead to sacred ground not because death has spoken the final word, but because Christ has. We lay them reverently to rest while professing: “I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”
Perhaps one day, in the light of the Resurrection, those things we could never understand on this side of eternity will finally make sense. Until then, we remember St. Paul’s promise: we do not grieve as those who have no hope.
The Cross is real. Grief is real. But so is the Resurrection.
And therefore, so is our hope.
