This morning, we gather once again in this special place to do two things. First, and primarily, to pay homage to those Classmates who have completed their work in this world; to joyfully recall their lives, their personalities and their courage, their devotion to duty. Second, to reflect upon the passage of time, upon the things to which those of us who remain have devoted our lives, and upon those things which beckon us still.

Since we last met, we have lost another 26 Classmates. They include distinguished public servants, well-known athletes, and others with a wide range of talents. Each of them left a distinguishing mark of service to others. Each of their lives impacted upon our own and many of them contributed greatly to the work of our Class.

The total number of departed Classmates now stands at 100. In a few moments, the name of each will be read. I want to take a brief moment, however, to say a word about one particular Classmate whose courage was exemplary of that demonstrated by many others in our Class, and whose caring heart epitomized our Class concept of "taking care of our own."

At our last Memorial Service, I also made special note of this Classmate. He had called me regularly since I lost my precious Luella two years earlier. He would always ask how I was doing. He would tell me he was thinking of me. And, he would offer support. I observed then that this kind of support would have been remarkable enough in regular circumstances, but that it had been made more so by the fact that the Classmate who was worried about me, had suffered from Multiple Sclerosis for 28 years and while he was calling me, was in the process of moving from his home to a facility that could provide continuous care for him. That Classmate, of course, was Terry Abell, who left us on 3 September.

In that Memorial Service five years ago, I also talked briefly about how different the world of 1998 was from the world of 1959, when we first arrived in Annapolis. There was every reason to hope then that the sacrifices which had been made by members of our Class, by our Loved Ones, and by others of our generation were sufficient to purchase at least a generation of peace for our children. After all, the Cold War had ended and after the 1991 Persian Gulf War, our nation had neither a military equal nor any clear threat from a foreign nation.

I doubt that anyone in the Chapel that day was prepared to say just how different life in America would be less than three years later. Who in their worst moments of contemplation could have anticipated a time so soon when thousands of people in the United States would lose their lives to terrorism; when combat air patrols would fly over American cities; when military personnel would be guarding civilian air terminals; when families and schools across the nation would need to store emergency food and water?

In an address delivered on Memorial Day, 1895, future Supreme Court Justice and thrice-wounded Civil War veteran Oliver Wendell Holmes paid tribute to those who had died in the country's wars up to that time, but he reminded his listeners of stark reality. "In this snug, over-safe corner of the world," he said, "we [need to] realize that our comfortable routine is no eternal necessity of things, but merely a little space of calm in the midst of the tempestuous untamed streaming of the world." So it is some 108 years later.

At this point, it would not be unreasonable of you to ask "What has this got to do with us? What can we do now about the world in which we live? We are at retirement age. Our watch is almost over."

It is true, of course, that many members of the Class have already retired, some from a second profession or occupation. It is a source of immense pride that many of our Classmates gave their lives to the nation in combat or other dangerous operations many years ago. The names of 15 of our Classmates are engraved together on the stone in the Academy Colombarium which lists the names of Academy graduates whose remains have never been recovered. Many more Classmates have since devoted their professional lives to the service of the nation in uniform or in some form of public or community service. In all walks of life, in all parts of the world, and in thousands of ways, members of our Class have demonstrated in their actions and conduct, that they have remembered the values that were engraved on our hearts while we were midshipmen.

Perhaps part of the answer to the question of the relevancy of recent events to us has been apparent for many years. Five years ago, I put the matter this way: "There are few things," I said, "which give as much satisfaction to a man as belonging to something, or being a part of something, in which he really believes. It is a thing close to our collective hearts," I added, "to be a part of the traditions and history of this Academy and to be members of the Class of 1963; to belong to a brotherhood which has considered service to the nation and to our communities to be a professional duty, as well as a personal privilege."

We meet here today to do honor to our departed Classmates, but I submit that we must do so in terms which embrace the future. We cannot, as Holmes also said, "live in associations with the past alone." There is much yet to do. To be worthy of our Class history and of our departed Classmates and Loved Ones, we must find new fields for action or thought; we must use wisely our time, our experience and skills, and our strength. We must seek new ways to discharge our long-standing duties faithfully and well, and new ways to serve. We must ever be resolute in striving for the things for which so many of our Classmates and Loved Ones made so many sacrifices. Only then, will we - - in the words of the Midshipmen's Prayer - - be able to stand before them and God "unashamed and unafraid."

In many cases, this may simply mean a search for new or better ways to take care of our families, our Classmates, and others around us who are in need. Through the work of our Class Foundation, we have already provided substantial college education assistance to 88 children of departed Classmates and more requests have been received only recently. At our Class Meeting this afternoon, you will learn of new ways which have been proposed to "take care of our own." In other cases, our future service may mean the use of our experience in the resolution of the many complex national security, social, moral, and even spiritual problems which face our nation. In yet other cases, it may mean the contribution of personal resources to just causes which cry out for support. However we choose to serve, our service will honor the Classmates and Loved Ones who have gone ahead.

Many of you, perhaps most, read John Bunyan's great allegory The Pilgrim's Progress, probably many years ago. It has been translated into over 100 different languages and dialects and is said to rank next to the Bible in its world-wide influence. My favorite passage appears near the end. It describes the death of Mr. Valiant-for-truth, a pilgrim who is traveling to the Celestial City. He has summoned his friends, who now stand around him. Here is Bunyan's narrative:

Then said he, I am going to my Fathers. My

Sword, I give to him that shall succeed me in my

Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill, to him

that can get it. My Marks and Scars I carry with

me, to be a witness that I have fought His battles,

who now will be my Rewarder.

When the Day that he must go hence, was

come, many accompanied him to the River side,

into which, as he went, he said, "Death, where is

thy sting?" And as he went down deeper, he said,

"Grave, where is thy victory?" So he passed over,

and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other

side.

Classmates: Today, we celebrate the lives of our brothers and our loved ones who have gone before us. We take pride in the fact that we and they have contributed greatly to the life and safety of our country. May courage, honor, and commitment guide our continuing efforts to serve in whatever ways are open to us, until we too give our swords to those who shall succeed us in our Pilgrimage; until we too hear the sound of the last trumpet and the whispered benediction, "Well done, good and faithful servant." And, may we once again humbly thank God for lives sustained and enriched by our shared experiences as members of the Naval Academy Class of 1963!