Shipmate web version by  Steve Coester

    I wanted to update you on my brother-in-law, Dave Anderson. In late June I had a business trip to Seattle and stopped down in Longview to visit with Pat and Dave. He has started radiation treatment and goes every weekday. It tires him out but his spirit and sense of humor are unflagging. We talked about the salty days on cruise and old friends in far away places, on his spacious wooden deck amidst the beauty of Washington's forest, adjacent to a fine golf course. Dave is especially cheered by the outpouring of support from his classmates, far and wide. He has been recently visited by Tim Cook and contacted by an Eastern Washington neighbor, Pete Optekar. Charlie Newkirk called him from Germany, totally unexpected and very welcome; others, like J.J. Calande, have sent him mail and he loves to hear from his old friends. I was noticing Dave's uneven haircut, a legacy of his recent operation, and offered to create a new "do"! Unwisely, he accepted and pretty soon we had recreated a scene from the old 4th wing basement tonsorial parlor where many a classmate had lost his curls to a technician named Mr. Queen.

Dave Anderson gets a haircut

Dave's mind is as sharp as ever and I tested him with a particularly obscure sports trivia question - "Who are the only father and son combination in U.S. professional sports to both win the Rookie of the Year award?" After some errant guesses, I gave Dave the meaningful clue that these two pros were so awarded in two different sports. He promptly replied with the correct answer and then smiling a big grin, added "Not bad for a guy with half a brain!" So we throw that one out to you old jocks, especially Forrest Siburt and Clay Dugas. If you think you know, send the answer to Dave - he'd love to hear from you!

   I can't top Tom Brandt in age, or certainly experience, but how about being the oldest to START flying. I just got my private license last fall at 59 and am now proud owner of a little two-seater that's only slightly faster than some typical interstate speeds. Maybe we need a fly-in somewhere?

    We pride ourselves in being a Class of quality. I would submit we are also a Class of caring and giving. I rode the Raleigh to Washington, D.C., AIDS Ride this year, a distance of 330 road miles and thousands of emotional miles. I have ridden a lot of miles on a bike, but never that many in such a short time and it was truly a wonderful experience.

In order to ride, however, each rider must obtain at least $2,400 in pledges. Some of this money is used for the logistics of the ride (more on that later), but the majority of the funds go towards the personal care and special dietary delivery for AIDS sufferers in the D.C. area. The rides have raised more than $82 million over the last 7 years.

I sent a request for pledges to every classmate with an e-mail address on file, thanks to the good services of Bill Kennedy, and the Class responded magnificently, contributing over $3,600. Those who gave were Dick Arvedlund, Peter Browne, Pete Carrothers, Steve Coester, Denny Conley, Doug Davidson, Ted DelGaizo, Dave Driskell, Bill Earner, Joel Gardner, Charlie Gosnell (who has raised more than $10,000 over the years for MS in bike rides), Al Griggs, Mike Harman, Ted Healy, Charlie Helsper, Frank Holmes, Bill Kennedy, Jim Koehn, Jim Lasswell, Joe LoPresti (Joe also works one of the rest stops each year in the D.C. MS Ride.), Phil Marsden, Kent Maxfield, Micky Mays, Mike McDermott, Jim Metcalfe, Jeff Miles, Bob Miller, Charlie Minter, Don Palen, Dave Puckett, Dave Riley, Phil Rooney, Hugh Schall, Will Settle, Charlie Stubbs, Roger Tetrault, Denny Vaughan, Vern VonSydow, Pat Waugh, and Dick Williams (who rides annually in the MS ride in honor of Terry Abell).

As I mentioned, the ride was phenomenal. Over 2,000 riders slugged along for four days, culminating in an emotional high at the closing ceremonies on the west side of the Capitol. The logistics of the ride in taking care of over 2,500 people (riders + crew) reminded me of an aircraft carrier. Every rest stop had food, medical, physical therapy, toilet facilities, and bike maintenance. Each night we camped in a different site with hot showers, hot meals in a covered tent, entertainment and a daily one-page newspaper. We rose early, had a hot breakfast, packed our gear, stowed our tent, and hit the trail about 0630-0700. The camp "rolled back" into the semi's and headed for the next encampment. A wonderfully efficient and comforting operation. We were visited with high winds and rain Friday night and rode in the rain all the next day. Storm damage to our planned campsite for Saturday night required a shift in plans and the organizers were able to divert this moving train of cyclists and crew to accommodations in a high school near Woodbridge, VA, with nary a hiccup. I told Dick Williams that there must be a Supply Corps officer in charge somewhere!

David Robinson wearing his true colors

I rode with the Booz-Allen & Hamilton team. There were 33 of us, plus five more who served as crew members at the various stops. We have our own jerseys plus special ones made for the ride. I broke with the team on the second day, however, to wear my USNA shirt. Needless to say I heard a lot of "Go Navy" throughout the day. Talk about an adrenaline pump! I'm now back to the more mundane lifestyle but think I will try it again next year. However sedentary I get over the next year, though, I will not lose sight of the many classmates who made my ride possible. Quality '63!

   Connie and Miller Detrick, Betty (my wife of 38 years), and I joined 42 alumni and spouses (including my brother Matt, USNA '70 -- no Plebe year, of course -- and his wife Ellie) on this year's "Alumni College in Tuscany-Chianti" tour. We had a fine reunion and a few sips of Chianti and were able to enjoy the sights, sounds, cuisine, and wine of the region, including the cities of Florence, Pisa, Siena, Lucca, and San Gimignano. Miller and Connie are in Tampa, FL, and Betty and I are still in Stafford, VA. I retired from teaching/coaching in the local school system and am now working with a Logicon team providing C4ISR contract support to the Marine Corps Systems Command at Quantico. Betty and I continue to attend Mass at the Base Chapel at Quantico where we frequently run into JoAnne and Lou Simpleman. This won't happen many more times as they are preparing to move to Colorado, their original stomping grounds.

The Detricks and Breedes at the "Torre Pendente" in Pisa

   I am greatly embarrassed and deeply humiliated, as the saying goes, that I have been tardy about reporting Ron Terwilliger's 60th Birthday Party. Jim DeFrancia beat me to the punch. In addition to the terrific party, Ron and I got to meet up with our phantom roommate, Wayne McCreary, whom we had not seen since graduation. Mac came in from Seattle where he is working for a large construction company. Ron wanted to do something special on his 60th and something special he did -- along with his guests, he went sky diving. Ron was first out of the plane and made a perfect landing. He explained that the jump provided a complete rush and he was ready to go for the second jump. Mac also jumped and I chickened out and later regretted not jumping (forgot to renew my insurance policy). Capturing the spirit of the day, here are some photos of Ron suited up and ready to get into the air. Click on the thumbnails for the larger photo.

Ron Terwilliger ready for free-fall	Rabert, Terwilliger, and McCreary	Ron suiting up
Walking to the plane	After Landing	Bruce ('65) & Ron Terwilliger

Mac and I have to thank Ron for a wonderful time and a great reunion. We did miss Adm. Ken Carlsen, our fourth roommate.

    I left my ship, USS DAVIS (DD-937), the day after the Israeli attack and relieved LIBERTY's Chief Engineer and steamed the ship back to Malta. It was an unusual experience and by coincidence they assigned me to Steve Toth's stateroom, and his stuff (that was very much like my stuff) was still there. After a day I figured out that he was a classmate. One-star Ike Kidd was also on board as the investigating officer. It was a very interesting five days.

   

Fred Kaiser on his birthday present

When I turned 60 this year, my family gave me a powered two-wheeler, a new 1100cc Honda Shadow Spirit (Liquid cooled 45 degree V-Twin engine). Although you can't see it in the photo, I've transferred the prestigious Illinois motorcycle license plate "USNA 63" from my old Honda motorcycle to the new one. Turning 60 was a bit of a crisis for me, only because I feel that is something that should occur 20 years in the future, not now! The motorcycle is my crisis toy, and was justified to my wife when I told her that if I wait too many more years, I'll have to use a walker to get to the bike, and then wouldn't be able to see where I was going when and if I could mount it. On the occasion of my 60th year and our daughter's pending wedding in August, I decided to make a commitment to walking to improve my overall health and well being. On January 14, on a cold winter day in Northern Illinois, I took the first step, and now I am proud to say that I surpassed the 300 mile mark in mid-July. Somewhere along the way I lost about 22 pounds, and I wouldn't be too upset if a few more disappeared. Walking will still be my first priority and motorcycling will have to be second (or the Spirit will be my preferred choice if I just want to get there in style).

    I'm practicing law in San Francisco with Brobeck, a large national firm. My first two boys have graduated from college and both live in the Bay Area and my third just graduated from High School (I started having children later than most of the class.) and will begin at Wesleyan University in Middletown, CT, in August.

I still recall many events of the 7th of July 1959 including the swearing in ceremony in the Yard in the sun. I was assigned to the third wing with Jace Singler and another guy named Tom from Wilmington who did resign, but it was not until the second week of Plebe Summer. I recall that Tom Brandt lived across the hall from us and, with Jim and Tom at work, I had no trouble keeping my sense of humor for those several weeks before the return of the brigade. The most vivid memory I have from that period of time, however, was not on the 7th of July -- it is of certain events of the first night of the return of the Brigade. It is also something I tried hard not to think about for many years because it brought tears to my eyes every time I did. The tears were not because of what happened that night or during Plebe Year of course, but because of subsequent history.

It begins with my memory of the experience of jogging into the mess hall to the yells of the Brigade the first time we all ate together in September. (I have gotten the identical feeling on only two occasions since then -- both were when I happened to be at the San Diego Zoo at the time they were feeding the lions fresh meat.)

This less than reassuring experience was soon followed by my gaffe of taking some butter as I was passing it to a Firstie who had asked for it -- a clear violation of the rules of etiquette -- but not something I had learned in the red-neck country that was once the State of Vermont. (It's changed a lot since then and Vermonters probably know where to place their knives and forks now.) It was hot and humid as usual, so you can guess the condition of the butter when the Firstie took it in his hand and smashed it into my face. I was then booked for come- arounds for the rest of the month and had to shove out for the rest of the meal. When it came time for the lowly Plebes to leave after dinner, my legs were cramping so much, I could not get up off the floor.

Now the hard part. I still remember like it was yesterday the faces of the two guys who helped pick me up. They became roommates for the whole four years and became close friends of mine while we shared the experience of the 24th and 2nd Companies. One was a fellow Vermonter, Bill Fitzgerald and, the other, an amazing guy from Baltimore, Don McLaughlin.

I have recalled this incident many times, but never quite so emotionally as when I saw the front page article in the Washington Post announcing the death of a famous Naval Academy All American Lacrosse and Soccer player in an A-4 in Vietnam in 1966, or as when I acted as the only USNA pallbearer for Bill in Montpelier, VT, in 1967. (which I figured at the time was about 10,000 miles from Vietnam.) The last time I willingly allowed myself to think about it before today was at the Commissioning of the USS WILLIAM C. FITZGERALD in Newport, RI, a few years ago.

I have always believed that experiences like these were what Plebe Year was all about. Two people I didn't even know helped me up after an indescribable experience which we had all suffered through together, and we instantly formed a bond that has me remembering them so clearly 42 years later -- a bond that has endured and will last forever. I thank God for the blessings I have received every day, and when I think of Fitz and Don, I thank God for the opportunity to have known people like them.

       We continue to add personal recollections about our early days at the Academy to our web site. I encourage you to go there, read what we've included, and , if the spirit moves you, send me your own so we can make them available to everyone. Just go to the web site and click on Wardroom -- Pride and Tradition ­ Memories. It will be well worth your time.

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This page is  Shipmate:     October 2001  posted on:  10 August 2001

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