A collage of phots featuring alumni of the ESS class of 1985 against a blue background.

A life-changing ‘Intrusion’

How a very special alumni newsletter has helped a UCLA physical sciences class stay friends for decades

A collage of phots featuring alumni of the ESS class of 1985 against a blue background.

composite by Katie Sipek/UCLA
“As undergraduates, we spent a lot of time in the field together,” said alumnus Pat Frascogna. “It formed a bond that exists to this day.”


By Álvaro Castillo | November 12, 2025

Earlier this year, a group of UCLA College alumni gathered on campus to celebrate a milestone reunion.

Happens all the time, right? Well, this case is a little different. Not only were these alumni celebrating their 40th reunion, but they’ve probably stayed closer and more in touch than any other class in Bruin history.

Starting even before their graduation and continuing ever since, the largely geology major class of ’85 from what is now known as the department of Earth, planetary and space sciences have been collectively contributing to an ongoing publication that has stitched their class together.

Originally inherited from an older classmate and never meant to be a serious undertaking, “The Weekly Intrusion” became a beloved ritual. Classmate Glenn Hieshima — who is now a retired geologist formerly with Exxon — diligently assembled each issue in the early 1980s, photocopying them and distributing them the department, including at a favorite hangout spot affectionately dubbed “Liquidus,” where those in the department would talk petrology over pints every Friday afternoon. As class member and lawyer Pat Frascogna put it, the publication captured “the inner musings of UCLA undergraduates from four decades ago” — a blend of humor, reflection and raw student life.

Returning to the geology building ahead of this year’s reunion, Hieshima was pleasantly surprised when he asked the department librarian about the publication: several editions had been preserved in three-ring binders. He immediately called Frascogna.

“Look what I found,” Hieshima said, texting his classmate photos of editions they had assembled by hand long ago. “They’re still here!”

 

‘UCLA gave us the opportunity to become a family’

As graduation approached, Frascogna and his classmate Mike Hunziker — recognizing how “The Weekly Intrusion” had fostered community during their student years — decided to keep the publication going after college by renaming it “The Yearly Intrusion,” hoping it would continue to connect their class across time and geography.

“And back in those early days after we graduated, all we had was a physical address and a landline,” said Frascogna.

As technology evolved — from cell phones to email and the internet — so did the publication. Today, “The Yearly Intrusion” lives up to its name, sort of, as it has been a biennial publication since 2008 but, nevertheless, still being published. Classmates David Ferreira, Mike Hunziker, Karen Loomis (who would go on to become a venerated geologist in her own right) Martin Lieurance and Lily Fong have long shared the responsibility of keeping it alive by gathering stories, curating memories and ensuring each edition reflects the ever-evolving spirit of their class.

“Very early on, I knew that we were on track to do something phenomenal,” said Frascogna. “Not just in the sense of us staying connected, but in essence, carrying the banner of the university forward through time, commemorating a very special time in our lives, which was spent at UCLA.”

The 40th anniversary edition of “The Yearly Intrusion” is a visual mosaic of the past: covers from years gone by, snapshots of fossils, a nod to the Pokémon character Geodude (a cartoon rock-type character the class embraced as an unofficial geology mascot) and landscapes of the places where this class cemented its lasting connection.

It also includes a tribute to Clarence Albert Hall, Jr., former director of White Mountain Research Center and a legendary UCLA geologist who died in 2023. (In the wake of his death, Loomis penned this remembrance piece.)

Known for leading one of the most grueling field courses required for graduation, Hall embraced his reputation, even donning full Darth Vader regalia on the first day of class. Amplified by his wholehearted commitment to his work and students, Hall’s impact was profound and lasting, so much so that a juniper tree now grows in classmate Martin Lieurance’s Montana home, planted in the late professor’s honor.


Martin Lieurance/Karen Loomis / composite by Katie Sipek/UCLA
Clarence Hall, Glenn Hieshima and Mike Soreghan taking a break during their tour of the Deep Spring Formation, White Mountains, summer of 1984.


Carrying the UCLA banner through time

For many reasons, this year’s reunion was special, but something stood out. Based on the cheer, conversations and camaraderie that filled the halls in the geology building — and after verifying the check-in list — the group concluded this was the highest turnout in four decades.

“About two-thirds of our graduating class was present,” said Frascogna. “And a handful of our classmates we haven’t seen since 1985 made it from around the country.”

That includes Frascogna himself, who flew in from Washington D.C., where he had the chance to reconnect with former instructors like mineralogist and professor emeritus Wayne Dollase.

In addition to catching up, of course, many of the conversations that took place that night recalled one of the perks of studying geology in the first place: getting to visit and conduct field research across California.

“As undergraduates, we spent countless hours together — camping, exploring, and heading out on field trips into the wilderness. We saw some of the most phenomenal places in California, the kind you’ve probably never even heard of,” said Frascogna. “We were out there studying rocks and formations, sure, but it was really about the time we spent in the field, immersed in the landscape and each other’s company.”

To Frascogna, the camaraderie forged during those expeditions remains the bedrock of a bond that has held firm for four decades. The places where those friendships took root — six weeks at the White Mountain Research Center camps at the Bishop and Crooked Creek station; Polenta Folds as the southern end of Deep Springs Valley; Papoose Flat; Tick Canyon; The Cube, also known as the Funktion Boulder; Rainbow Basin — are the stuff of dreams for adventurers and wayfarers alike. Revisiting them in memory, he finds their essence easy to capture: “These places are beautiful, just absolutely gorgeous.”

Arguably even more so, of course, are the bonds between this special class. And while many of its alumni pursued paths beyond geology — Frascogna himself built a career in law — their connection endures, shaping how they see the world and each other.

“At this late stage of the game, it’s not just about staying connected,” Frascogna said. “It’s really about keeping alive the memories of a great time we all shared together at a great university.”