7 July 1959: The Union of the USNA Class of 1963

7 July 1959 and Plebe Summer Memories
The Union: USNA Class of 1963

Over forty years ago, on 7 July 1959, 1191 of us came together in Annapolis, Maryland for the seminal formation of the Class of 1963. What are your memories of that time, that day, that era?
It hit us all a little differently, but it changed all of our lives.
Send in your memories to WebMaster@USNA63.org so we can share them via this page.

Al Breen, Don White, Bob VanNice, and Mike Shelley
USNA Class of 1963
Photo taken July 1959

Class of '63 - The Beginning- -From Steve Coester

Well, it's the Fortieth Anniversary of our entry to the World Famous

USNA Class of 1963. We should all remember July 7, 1959 as being one of

the most significant in our lives because it marked the start of our

change from boys to men and gave us opportunities that have marked our

lives forever. As I got to thinking about that day, I thought it would

be fun to share what I remember of my feelings of that first day. And

I'd love to hear your remembrances.

Forty years ago this week! I left my summer job as a lifeguard at

Treecourt Pool. This was a milestone in my young life. I had worked

for four years at the pool doing everything from basket boy, to short

order cook, to grass cutter , and finally, the world's best job,

lifeguard. That filled the period between childhood and young man. I

had been notified only a month previously that I had been accepted at

the Naval Academy under Public Law 186 for qualified alternates. I had

given up on making it because I was only second alternate, behind Ron

Schowalter and Mike Bracy, both of whom graduated in the Class of 63

with some measure of distinction. When I received that telegram from

Western Union, it was definitely the most outstanding moment of my life

to that time. I had planned my life since the sixth grade with the

intention of attending USNA after reading an article about it in the

World Book Encyclopedia and now I'd have my chance. I hadn't made any

alternate plans for college, so who knows what would have happened to me

if that telegram hadn't arrived.

On July 6, 1959, just one week before my eighteenth birthday, I

kissed my mom goodby and solemnly shook my dad's hand and went to board

the TWA Lockheed Constellation at St. Louis's Lambert Field. That three

tailed, fish shaped airplane in gleaming red and white seemed like the

biggest grandest airplane that could ever be built. I had flown a lot

in Piper Cubs and Cessnas because my dad worked at Lambert Field, but

this was to be my very first flight in an airliner. I don't remember

being nervous even though I had no idea when I'd ever see home again,

and certainly had no idea what the next days, months and years had in

store. I expected that every other new Mid would be six foot three,

number one in his high school class, quarterback on the football team,

and president of the student council. Here I was five foot eight, "only"

a top ten percenter academically, and just third man on the school

tennis team. I didn't think I would be a shining star at USNA but I was

happy just to be going.

After landing at National Airport in D.C., things are kind of a

blur. There I was with a heavy new leather suitcase, received a month

earlier as a graduation present from Kirkwood High School. I lugged it

around and must have stashed it somewhere for I decided to see a few

sights. I climbed the steps five hundred feet up the Washington

Monument just because I was seventeen and could. Then I went to the

Smithsonian and looked at the Hope diamond. I gawked at the Mall and the

White House. This was big stuff for a kid from the St. Louis suburbs

who had seldom been out of Missouri.

I think I sacked out in the bus station overnight so I would be sure

to get the first bus to Annapolis on July 7. I certainly wasn't going to

be late in reporting. I doubt that I had ten dollars in my pocket. I

remember getting off the bus at the Annapolis station expecting to see

the buildings and monuments of the Academy. Instead I saw nothing to

tell me where to go and no flag waving welcoming committee. After

asking around, I got directions and lugged that darn suitcase the

several blocks to the Academy gate. The irony was that the next day we

were all told to pack up all of our civilian gear and ship it and the

suitcase back home.

That first day was a blur of getting uniforms, haircuts, learning

(unsuccessfully) how to stencil our names onto our blouses and trying to

shape those silly sailor hats into something that looked a bit more

swashbuckling. That first day my roommate had his windup alarm clock

stolen. I was shocked because I had studied up and knew about the Honor

Concept. I guess some had to learn honor as they went along. We learned

that we would receive the magnificent sum of five dollars a month in

cash money. It never occurred to me to write home for more. The Plebe

Detail, those Second Classmen, looked like young gods; so self assured,

confident and omnipotent. How they managed to never break a sweat I

still don't understand. It was impossible to realize they were only two

years removed from us uncoordinated slobs. I was arbitrarily roomed

with Ron Machens that Plebe Summer and was fortunate that we ended up in

the same academic year company and roomed together for most of the next

four years. Ron helped me immensely academically and psychologically to

make it through the plebe and succeeding years. Despite my humble start

and beyond my understanding I ended up wearing "stars", being on the

Sup's List, and lettering in Tennis. I was a three striper until the

infamous Christmas Leave Party, but that's another story that gets

better every year. They even made me a Rhode's Scholarship candidate,

but the Rhodes committee made up exclusively of left wing communist

pinkos (of course), didn't choose any of Navy's candidates, not even our

number one man, Dan Hennessy.

Plebe summer was HOT! By the time we put on our uniforms they were

drenched. But we slowly learned our rates, and how to march and run and

swim and shoot. We learned to spit shine our shoes and watched them

crack at that first step. We brushed and brushed blue wool and still the

lint glistened all over. We ate square meals, turned square corners,

saluted and barked,"Yes Sir" thousands of times. And we did come

arounds and braced up and sweated pennies to the wall until we were

ready to drop. And, damned, if I didn't love every darn minute of it!

We watched new friends pack up and go home victims of psychological or

physical stress or academic rigors for which they just weren't

prepared. Those of us that remained became a part of something that

transcended ourselves. We became part of a tradition that started in

1845, members of the Brigade of Midshipmen, and brothers in the Class of

1963, incidentally the LAST class to have a REAL Plebe Year.

It remains an honor to be one of YOU.

- Steve Coester

[Webmaster]: Here's the picture to prove that he made it. Dang, he does look like he loved every darn minute of it!

Plebe Steve

Response by Tom Reemelin to Steve Coester's Class of '63 - The Beginning, 7 July 1999]

Steve, Amen to all of that - great times we all had and the best part was meeting such super guys.

During plebe summer Joe Bellino was our 2nd class leader. To show how uninformed I was, I didn't even know that he was the star of the Navy football team. So when he asked if anyone thought they could tackle him I spoke up and said YES SIR! He and his buddies had a great laugh out of that one. (actually I'd have loved the chance because as it was when I went out for plebe football, I tried to figure out where a little guy could play - tried out for end and after unsuccessfully trying to block those 200 pound hunks, I was saved from future embarrassment by getting a heat stroke and deciding that maybe that was a signal!) Fortunately, my plebe summer roomy had gotten me interested in playing lacrosse - they needed a 10th man to chase balls!

So many special coincidences make life great!

And here's a couple more remembrances of our first few days from Dave Moore and Jerry Huss. First from Dave

Well, here it is again. July 7, (2001). Isn't this where we came in???

Its amazing that two significant days at USNA that are a complete blur to me are Induction Day and Graduation.

I can vaguely remember filling out lots of forms in the Mess Hall trying to emulate the example of Midn W. T. Door or Midn Gish.

For the ceremony in Tecumseh Court all I can remember is Capt Bringle telling us that it is very important to keep your     sense of humor, both in the Academy and in the Fleet.

And I learned a new word: MUSTER.   We must have mustered sixty times in the first 24 hours.

I also know we got shots, a haircut (that was not as severe as I had expected), and issued lots of gear including stencils, a gray metal lock box (I still have mine - and I bet most of you still have yours), Reef Points, Pratt's Compact History of the U.S. Navy, Blue Jacket's Manual. But I can't remember if these came on the 7th or 8th.

My plebe summer crew (109) was assigned rooms in the Terrible Tenth Company area of the Fifth WIng. We arrived in our rooms to find most of the mirrors had writing on them with a bar of soap: STANDBY 63 !    No translation from navalese to civilianese was necessary for that salutation.

The ultimate moment of glory for me came at reveille the next morning when we were introduced to the thirteen bells. From the bottom of a double bunk bed I jumped out to begin my great naval career. My room mate in the top bunk did the exact same thing creating a time/space problem. Since he weighed at least 40 more pounds than I did, I was totally squashed. A telling comment on the Plebe Year process. I am glad I stayed for the second reveille.

There was a story making the rounds of Bancroft Hall that someone resigned that first day, either before or just after swearing in, as soon as he completed a promise made to his family. Does anyone know if this is a true story ???

When I look back on that incredible summer of 1959, I often think of the fact it was only 14 years after the A- bombs dropped on Japan and six years after fighting stopped in Korea. We do not normally think of ourselves as "post-war" people, but now we realize that 14 years is only a blink of the eye.   We were certainly close enough to the great heroes of WWII to consider them part of our lives as well as our heritage.

Can anyone shed light on what happened on July 7, 1959. ?????

And From Jerry:

Thanks for your detailed memories of the first couple of days of Plebe

Summer. Your point regarding the proximity of WWII and Korea to that

fateful day in July of 1959 is interesting; but back then a year seemed like

a long time (especially when it was Plebe Year).

My Plebe Summer Crew was also located in the Fifth Wing. I can't remember

the exact number, but 104 sticks in my mind. My roommates were Andy Tate

and Virgil Markus. Across the hall were the likes of Joe Strasser, Jim

DeFrancia and Dave Nelson. I recall also that the summer of '59 was a warm

and humid one, at least by my standards. I enjoyed Mike Moore's comments

regarding his White Works' woes. For me it was timing, or lack of it. Due

to the heat and humidity, I never seemed to have a dry pair of White Works

to throw on to get to that next muster. Invariably, when the bell went off,

the only clean jumper was the one I had just stenciled five minutes before.

I also recall spending a lot of time in bed with my issued M-1. That was

somewhat related to my first crisis during Plebe Summer. Being a complete

non-swimmer, I quickly found myself on the Sub Squad for failure to get

across the shallow pool for the 100 yard swim without walking on the bottom.

At that stage I would have failed a ten yard swim. A week or two later, I

was assigned the Mate of the Deck Watch while the rest of my squad was

learning the manual of arms. The following drill, when the rest of my

crewmates were smartly handling their M-1's, I was all thumbs and was

immediately assigned to...the dreaded Awkward Squad. Since the "squads"

generally met in the late afternoon, I was faced with the dilemma of which

squad took priority. Someone on the Plebe Summer detail directed me to the

table of priorities in the Midshipmen Regulations, and the Sub Squad won

out. I guess they figured you could drown quicker than you could hurt

yourself with an M-1 with a fixed bayonet. Nearing the end of Plebe Summer,

I finally demonstrated that I could swim 100 yards (thanks to Prof. Higgens'

back stroke lessons), and I extricated myself from the Awkward Squad the

following day, since by that time I had figured out how to maneuver the M-1

without hurting myself.

I think the saddest day of my life was saying goodbye to my parents at the

end of Parents' Weekend, and certainly one of the happiest was the last day

of Plebe Year. You had to be there to understand the highs and lows of the

experiences we shared.

And From Frank Hilton:

I vividly remember being in formation on the first deck out side the Batt Office of the Third wing, mustering for a "party" late 7 July. Which party I do not recall, but it didn't fit my concept of any party I had previously enjoyed.

While we were mustering, a short guy passed between the Batt Office and our "formation" in the direction of McDonough Hall. The classmate mustered next to me whispered the gent was "Joe Bellino." I had heard of the Winchester Rifle and imagined him at least 6-1. But here was a short guy in sweats.

Fast forward to several mornings later: 0530 in Thompson Stadium for morning PT (it may have been been the result of a Form Two). The leader of the PT is Midn 2nd Class Bellino and his height is the same but his now exposed thighs must each be reviling California sequoias in diameter. Much later, we enjoyed the benefit of his performance in Philadelphia as Joe and his teammates destroyed Army. We are additionally told his classmates enjoyed the benefits of the "Bellino Curve." Did we have one of those?

From Mike Rubel:

I-Day was a little different for three of us; Paul Tobin, Don Jacobs, and Myself. We were not included in the mass swearing-in ceremony in front of Bancroft because our transcripts from college had not arrived in time. They were holding us back for further scrutiny (I guess). I remember going to the admissions office and asking them what to do since the University of Nevada had not sent my grades. He said don't worry, you'll get in, but we need the transcripts to be official. I should have known!

The three of us were sworn in two days later in Mem Hall, with our words echoing around the great room as we pledged our allegiance to God and Country, and not necessarily in that order. Finally we were allowed the privilege of sweating our you know what off in the pleasant humidity of the East Coast with the rest of the class. Welcome to the rest of our life.

One incident that still is a fresh as the day it happened was with Jack Burke, my roommate for four years. We were sitting in our room when Buzz Needham came in and yelled "brace up". I immediately leaped into position, but Jack thought this was a prank by one of our classmates, and told him to do the same. After a few seconds with Buzz flying into a rage, Jack realized maybe it wasn't someone from '63 and he should follow the lead of the rest of us in the room. Needless to say, Jack did his share of come-a rounds, and Buzz exacted his pounds of flesh for the lack of proper respect.

From Norm Shackelton:

Here is what comes to mind for me as I entered the Naval Academy with the Class of 1963:

My parents, brothers, sister and my girlfriend at the time drove me to Annapolis on July 6th. Vince Gilroy and his future wife, Robin came with Vince's family to see him off also. Vince graduated a year later than I did from Massapequa (NY) high school. Both families stayed at the Annapolis Terrace Motel on Route 50. We were all out by the pool and met the Reemelin family who came from Ohio to see their son Tom off. I still remember Tom's infectious laugh and his falsetto "Shaaaack" that made me feel great every time I saw him during Plebe Summer and many times from then to now.

I, too remember the terrible heat and humidity. White works were always soaked. I remember on July 7th, dragging a seabag plus armfuls of "stuff" to my fifth wing room. Sitting on the desk, with a big smile and a cheerful, "howdy" was Jary (Lew) Lewis. He was a sailor from the fleet so, as such seemed like a real old salt. Terry O'Brien (now deceased) also was our Plebe Summer roommate. Lew got us both through Plebe Summer. He encouraged us, showed us how to spit shine shoes, stencil and the like. Most of all he kept us pumped up.

I fondly remember some of our Second Class Detail Leaders. They seemed like bronze gods and turned out to be terrific human beings. I particularly remember Jim Traa, Buzz Galbraith, and Jack Prudhomme. I ran into Jack Prudhomme in GTMO in the summer of 1965 while on a Destroyer School cruise. His carrier was on its way to WESTPAC. I was really devastated when I heard that year that he was shot down over North Vietnam.

With my aging memory, these things still stand out. The times and names may have blurred a little but they still seem clear to me. This was a great start to my adult life and I would not change anything. We're a brotherhood.

From Roger Mehle:

Apropos of both our 50th anniversary of admission and our recently named Distinguished Graduate, Ron Terwilliger:

On July 7, 1959, by chance Ron stood behind me in a long line in the Rotunda to draw stencils. As we waited, we began chatting and I asked his name. When he told me, I asked him if he were any relation to the Washington Senators former second baseman, Wayne Terwilliger (who's still with us, http://www.wayneterwilliger.com/bio.html). I don't remember what Ron said, but I think it was "no."

We continued talking as the line progressed, and, as we got to the head of the line, we saw the numerals "63" on the stencils of the classmate in front of us. I then speculated that I'd be "64" and Ron would be "65." As the cliche has it -- in more ways than one -- "Boy, did I ever get a wrong number!"

I doubt that Ron remembers this, but I haven't forgotten it in fifty years.

From Bob Van Nice:

Mike, thanks for putting up the photo of our Plebe Summer crew (at top of this page). It was truly remarkable to see, and it reminded me again how good it was to see you at our most recent class reunion after so many years!

In answer to Dave Moore's question above about a mid resigning on 7 July, yes, it's true. I understand the fellow was named Herb H.... who had received the Principal Appointment from Maryland Representative Dewitt S. Hyde after a 2-year selection process that had started with 75 candidates. I was the fifth alternate from Congressman Hyde's list and, since Herb X had accepted the appointment, I was going off to NROTC at Brown. I don't know for sure that he left on 7 July but I do know he was gone by the 8th!

My own eventual membership in'63 came in late April/early May when I was offered, and accepted, appointment as a Qualified Alternate under P.L. 186.

John Aucella adds his two bits:

I have enjoyed reading the Plebe summer and 7 July 1959 stories.

I remember the first homecoming weekend, sometime that fall, hearing all the laughing and riotous noises emanating from the evening alumni meal in the Mess Hall and deciding to walk through Smoke Hall to see what in the world was going on. On my way down I spotted a bunch of alumni with their class of 1934 name tags. They were there for their 25th. I had a nice chat with a few of them and as they left I said to myself "Imagine the Class of 34. My God those guys are old!"

Ken Metviner chips in:

I enlisted in the Naval Reserve in 1957 to avoid the draft, then went to City College to see what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I met an Academy graduate who told me I could never make it there because it took someone special. That inspired me to try, just to see if I could get in. When I told my friends in The Bronx, they told me they would buy Russian War Bonds if I got in. Imagine my feelings when I got the postcard indicating I qualified for a Naval Reserve appointment, then, a few weeks later, when I got a set of official orders to report to USNA on 7 July. Did I really want this? Did I have any idea what I was getting into? Then came the day, and the train ride to Baltimore and the bus to Annapolis. I remembered seeing pictures of Bancroft Hall, and the sight of it was awesome as I entered the Yard though Gate 3. The rest of the day is pretty much of a blur, except for the ceremony in the hot sun and the start of the stenciling of uniforms. Then came Buzzie Needham, the next guy who told me I would never make it. Quit now, he said, because if I thought he was tough, wait until I met the rest of the Brigade. He was right. Things did get worse. I always will remember that admonition from I-Day, that one out of three of us would bilge out. I wasn't going to be the one.

Bill Haslet's Plebe Memory:

I remember leaving Spokane Washington on the morning of 4 July 1959 with John Bender heading east for Washington DC. We arrived that night during the fireworks display and we stayed our first night on the east coast at the YMCA. It was HOT !! It was HUMID!! I was 17 years old and I was so homesick that I almost literally got sick to my stomach!!

Even though I actually enjoyed Plebe summer, my two summer room mates didn't fare too well. One of them had attended college for several years in Georgia and liked fraternity life and the other one was a Navy enlisted man who enjoyed giving orders to others but not taking them. At 17, I didn't know any better and did what I was told and everything worked out fine for me but my two room mates didn't last the summer. After 40 years of marriage to my wonderful wife Chauni, I still do what I am told and have found it to be just as successful!

For most of plebe year, Joe Bellino lived directly across the hall and I also can confirm that his thighs were in fact HUGH and he received more mail daily than all the rest of us on the floor combined!

QUALITY - '63

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