Cathy and I recently spent a wonderful weekend with friends at Rodanthe, NC on the Outer Banks. The area is beautiful and somewhat remote, a perfect getaway. Part of the town also has a small problem – beach houses occasionally wash into the ocean.
Continue reading “Weekend In Rodanthe”
It’s not a requirement to like your brothers-in-law, but it’s a good thing when it happens. I have been blessed with three GREAT brothers-in-law – Shawn, Don, and Jack. In my book, requirement one for any B-I-L is to love and care for your wife and family. All three do/did that and so much more.
Continue reading “Three Brothers (in Law)”
The coffee cup is old and has chips and a crack in it. It was a gift from my buddy Tim Stouffer in 1980 when he visited us in Germany, while returning from a trip to Russia. I think he bought it in a train station somewhere. Tim passed away a little over a year ago, and I’ve thought about whether I should continue using the mug, or put it on a shelf somewhere.
Continue reading “The Coffee Cup”
The Nat’s pitchers and catchers reported for spring training last week on February 12th. I’m excited, but also a bit sad. My old friend, Bill Wagner, passed away last September. He was the owner of the season ticket group I belong to and there will be a hole in my heart on Opening Day.
Continue reading “Play Ball!”
I still see the chunk of tractor-trailer tire flipping end-over-end in slow motion towards us. Growing bigger and bigger, it slammed into the front of our car and bounced off the hood, before disappearing in a flash. The actual elapsed time was perhaps one second from start to finish, but it was enough, and the damage was done.
Continue reading “Chunk of Tire”
Cath and I recently saw “A Christmas Carole” at Ford’s Theatre, our 12th year in a row. I always find it renewing and every year, a different character or part of the play touches me. Not just Scrooge, or Tiny Tim, or the Ghosts, but sometimes a minor character like Old Fezziwig stays with me and provides inspiration.
Continue reading “Old Fezziwig”
October 21st, 2024 is the 156th anniversary of the 1868 dedication of a statue at West Point honoring General John Sedgwick. In August of this year, my West Point Class of ‘78 took part in a rededication ceremony for the statue. You may ask why – The story spans two centuries.
Continue reading “Sedgwick’s Spurs”
Charlie sent an email to all of us company B-3 West Point ‘78 grads. Colonel Bob Radcliffe, our Tactical (TAC) Officer when we were cadets, passed away. My mind did an immediate flashback to my last two years at school. He made such a difference in my life and was a true mentor and leader.
For me, I’ll always remember him as Major Radcliffe. That was his rank when he served as our TAC. By way of explanation, each of the 36 companies had an active duty officer assigned as a TAC Officer. The TACs:
“Are the primary leader developers/integrators of the Academy’s developmental programs. They oversee each cadet’s individual development in the academic, military, physical, and moral-ethical dimensions within the framework of the Cadet Company. The TACs train, lead, coach, and mentor cadets, with a continual focus on leader development. The TAC is … responsible for the establishment and maintenance of a command climate that fosters individual and unit excellence in all program areas.”
There were of course all kinds of TACs at West Point. Most were good, but some were martinets and some were too folksy. Major Radcliffe was one of the good ones. From my perspective, he was one of the great ones. He knew how to strike the right balance in his work with us.
He was a Grad himself from the class of 1965. He was also a first team All American Lacrosse player while at the Academy. After graduating and commissioning in the Infantry, he obtained his Airborne wings and Ranger tab. He did a couple of tours in Vietnam, where he earned the Combat Infantry Badge, the Silver Star and the Bronze Star for Valor.
He made us toe the line as Cadets, but also had a human side. When Cathy and I learned she had MS, he worked with me to obtain an immediate weekend pass to see her in DC, which was so important for me. We weren’t engaged yet, but he came through. He also helped rescue me from myself when I screwed up on something at school. For both of those items, I will be eternally grateful.
Additionally, Major Radcliffe had a sense of humor. I remember going to his home a few times for cookouts or dinners. On one occasion, he surprised us when he lifted his sweatshirt revealing the T-shirt he wore underneath. It said, “US Team. Southeast Asia War Games. 1960-1975. Second Place.” Sense of humor indeed.
My last official interaction with Major Radcliffe was when he swore me in as a Second Lieutenant on Graduation Day. We were at Washington Monument on The Plain and I remember it as if it were yesterday. Mom, of course, snapped the picture.
I only saw him a couple times after graduation. Once in the military at an exercise or meeting somewhere. The second time was by chance in an airport. We were both civilians by then and chatted briefly, while waiting for connecting flights. In 2020, Cathy and I were going to host a mini B-3 reunion and we invited him to the event. We traded a couple of emails back and forth and he looked forward to attending. Unfortunately, COVID intervened and we cancelled the get together.
Yes, when Charlie’s email arrived in my inbox, I had my flashback to West Point. I also thought about his impact on my life and how he, along with West Point itself, changed the arc of my life. We didn’t call it mentorship back then, but that’s what it was. His mentorship and his leadership made a difference for many of us, and I’m glad he was in my life. It’s a debt I can’t repay.
Addendum:
In the summer of ‘87, my folks visited us in Germany. We had a grand time touring Germany, Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland. One of the highlights was Glacier Skiing at Sölden, Austria and then afterwards, hanging at the Lodge drinking bier, while Cathy worked on her tan.
On our first tour in Germany from ‘79-83, Mom and Dad visited once for a vacation in the summer of 1982. I was a Company Commander in the 34th Signal Battalion at the time and the day we were to leave on vacation with them, the phone rang about 4AM. Cath said, “Don’t Answer it”. I said, “I have to.” She answered back, “Don’t answer it.” I answered the phone.
The call came from Battalion Headquarters and we deployed on an alert for the next three days. While I was in the field, Cath showed Mom and Dad around Southern Germany and the Black Forest. When I returned from the alert, we travelled the next ten days together. Dad understood what happened with the alert and why I had to go, but I’m not sure Mom did.
When we moved back to Germany in ‘85, we didn’t think Mom and Dad could afford another visit. Airline travel was expensive, as was the trip itself. Then, fate intervened. Dad hit 5 out of 6 numbers on a lottery ticket and won several thousand dollars. Never ones to let extra money go to waste, they scheduled a visit with us in Worms in the summer of 1987.
When they arrived, we spent the first few days near Worms and the village of Rheindurkheim, where we lived. In addition to introducing them to local friends, we spent an evening at one of our favorite Weinfests. Everyone enjoyed themselves, or at least that’s what the photos seemed to indicate.
Eventually, we left Rheindurkheim and headed South for the main part of the vacation. I’m not sure why, but Cath and I decided to take our skis along and get some Glacier skiing in, something we’d never done before. Looking back now, it seems an odd decision. Mom and Dad wouldn’t ski, but I’m sure we talked with them about it. In any case, off we went down the Autobahn with the skis strapped on the roof rack of our Saab.
After visiting good friends Jim and Res in Stuttgart for a night, we made our way to the Alps. We planned a drive through Austria, Northern Italy and Switzerland, but started with Sölden, Austria where we would ski. In the 1980s, you could still ski Sölden virtually all year long*.
Glacier skiing is a bit different from regular skiing. You have to hit the slopes early, and most people only ski in the AM. By late morning, the sun has warmed the slope and the glacier starts turning to slush. Also, as the morning wears on, the snow/ice on the glacier tends to become gravelly, not quite ice and not quite snow.
That first night at Sölden, we ate dinner in the little Gasthaus where we were staying. We discussed skiing the following morning. Cathy was thinking about skiing in her bikini and I was up for wearing a pair of shorts. Ultimately, we decided to ski in sweats and jeans. If we fell, the gravelly snow would scrape us up pretty good.
The next day, after an early breakfast of Kaffee, Brotchen, Wurst und Käse (Coffee, rolls, sausage and cheese) we made our way to the slope and were skiing by 7:30AM. We’d told Mom and Dad they could hang at the Gasthaus, but they insisted on coming with us to the ski lodge. Dad took a photo as we headed to the lift.
Cath and I spent the next three hours skiing the glacier and it was wonderful. The piste (ski trail) wasn’t crowded, the snow was in great shape and we were skiing well. Occasionally, we’d check on Mom and Dad who were drinking Kaffee on a picnic table outside the lodge. Dad snapped some pics of us skiing, but for the life of me, I can’t find them. Around 10:30 the snow started getting slushy. By 11, we were through. We started getting wet from the knees down and were tired from the morning’s activities. In the additional good news department, we hadn’t fallen all morning.
We stacked our skis in a rack, joined Mom and Dad and ordered some biers. Cathy stripped off her sweater and jeans, revealing the bikini she wore underneath. In the photo I took of Cath with Mom and Dad, I love the bored/sullen Euro look she adopted. Just another ho-hum day skiing the Alps and catching rays.
We spent one more night in Sölden, before heading for Nauders, Austria right on the Italian border. We’d previously skied a couple of winters there. After a couple of days seeing friends, we eventually crossed into Italy and then Switzerland, having an occasional roadside lunch of bread, cheese and wine. One day we forgot glasses, but that didn’t stop us. ;-).
We worked our way to Davos, where we enjoyed a multi-course 5-Star meal at a restaurant just outside of town. At our hotel that night, we saw fireworks going off in the mountains across the valley. It was the celebration of the Swiss National Day, their equivalent to our 4th of July and pretty amazing. At the time, we had no clue about the importance of Davos or the World Economic Forum. All we knew was that we ate a great meal that evening and then saw a cool light show in the Alps.
Eventually, we returned to Rheindurkheim and other adventures, before Mom and Dad flew home.
It’s funny, I remember many parts of that vacation**, but for some reason skiing the glacier at Sölden stands out. It was only a small part of the trip, but remains firmly in my mind. Maybe it was the fun of the day. Maybe it was the skiing. Maybe it was just the remembrance of my wife soaking up sunshine in a bikini at the ski lodge after a morning of good play. All our days should be so happy.
Addendum:
We started gathering around 0130 at Buffalo Soldier Field. Soon, buses would drive us to Lake Frederick. There we would link up with the West Point Class of 2028 and join them for their 14-mile March Back to West Point, which culminates with the end of New Cadet Summer Training, aka Beast Barracks. The Class of ‘28 will graduate exactly 50 years after we graduated in ‘78.
Just about everyone is aware that West Point Graduates are known for being a part of “The Long Gray Line.” The phrase “The Long Gray Line” in its simplest definition is the continuum of all graduates and cadets of the United States Military Academy at West Point, from 1802 to the present. In an effort to strengthen the concept of “The Long Gray Line”, the West Point Association of Graduates (AOG) started a 50 Year Affiliation Program (YAP). It’s an absolutely brilliant idea. The 50 YAP started 25 years ago in 1999, with the class of ’49 supporting ’99.
To bring some perspective, IF the program had existed when I was at West Point, our Affiliation Class would have been the Class of 1928. Classmate Frank Arduni pulled together some facts about that class:
The class graduated 261 new Lieutenants on June 9, 1928. By the time the last member of their class passed away in October 2010 at the age of 104, the class produced 78 General officers. They became pioneers of Army Aviation, and within four years of graduation at least 6 members of the class died as 2LTs in air accidents. Eventually 73 served in the Army Air Corps, two long enough to see it become the Air Force.
28 lost their lives in the Second World War, and at least eight of those as prisoners of war. Six members of the class were “participants” in the Bataan Death March, of whom only one would survive the ordeal.
One member of the class, Robert Albert Howard, was the grandfather of our 1978 classmate, Eric Franks (RIP).
Over the course of the next four years, various members of our class will attend significant events during the Class of 2028’s time at West Point. Some of those events include: their First Day at West Point and the Start of Beast Barracks; Affirmation Day at the start of Cow (Junior) year when they have officially committed to serving in the military; Ring Weekend; Branch Night Firstie (Senior) year, when they select their military branch; and of course, Graduation.
The event that caught my eye was “March Back”. At the end of Beast Barracks, the New Cadets do a forced march of 14 miles from Lake Frederick where they have been for some of their training, back to West Point. A few days later, they transition from “New Cadets” to full fledged members of the Corps of Cadets. Each year a number of graduates (Old Grads) participate in the March Back and interact with the cadets. The 50-year affiliation class is guaranteed 50 of those slots.
Last winter, our class announced the upcoming events. 118 of us said we wanted to do the March Back. In February, we held an online lottery via Zoom for the guaranteed 50 slots. I was number 76. D@mn. I now needed to rely on some luck and try and sign up for one of the additional slots available to all graduates later in the spring.
In the meantime, I increased the mileage of my daily walks and started going both farther and faster. The March Back itself is 14 miles long, with the first three miles entirely uphill. The pace was to be at 20 minutes/mile, but we were warned the first three uphill miles could go faster.
In June, I lucked out, signed up early enough online and was selected to participate in the March Back. Ultimately 73 members of the class of ‘78 would make the 14 mile March Back, with another 42 joining us for the final two miles.
Over the next month and a half, I increased my workouts again. I didn’t want to let myself, my classmates or the Class of 2028 down. In addition to daily 5-6 mile walks, I added several 8, 10 and 12 mile hikes over the hills here in Virginia. The longer hikes were at an 18 to 18:40 min pace. I was as ready as I was going to be.
On Saturday, the 10th of August, I made the six-hour drive to West Point. As always when returning to the Academy, my mind filled with a mishmash of thoughts – the March Back of course, but also my own time at West Point, and its impact on my life. It’s 46 years since I graduated, but I still remember reporting to The Man in the Red Sash on my first day as if it was yesterday.
That first night was great and I had the chance to see a number of classmates who were also staying at the Thayer Hotel. We had drinks and dinner while telling stories and catching up on the activities in our lives. Our hair was grayer and we were, perhaps, heavier, but our love for life remained.
The next day, the AOG bused us ‘78ers out to Lake Frederick to interact with the class of ‘28 prior to the march later that night. At lunch we talked with the New Cadets over hotdogs and hamburgers. It was the start of an amazing 24-hour period. I probably spoke with 7 or 8 different groups during the next three hours and came away universally impressed. You hear stories about kids being unmotivated these days – nothing was further from the truth for these young men and women. They were sharp, motivated, inquisitive and fired up. They had marched 9 miles to Lake Frederick three or four days before in the remnants of Hurricane Debby. It rained during the march and for the next two nights when they slept outside without tents. You’d have thought they would be depressed or unmotivated, but the exact opposite was true. They were charged up and attentive. I was inspired by all of those I met and spoke with.
We eventually boarded our buses for the trip back to West Point. My mind kept playing and replaying the time with the New Cadets. Yes, we were there to help them understand the concept of The Long Gray Line, and hopefully we were doing that. What I hadn’t understood earlier was how motivating these young people would be for me. Their enthusiasm had increased my own. They also brought home the fact that The Long Gray Line extends both into the past AND into the future.
I went to bed around 2100 that night, but didn’t sleep much. Three hours and forty-five minutes later, my alarm went off at 0045. I hopped out of bed and got ready. I left the Thayer and walked the quarter mile to our Assembly Point at Buffalo Soldier Field. When I arrived around 0130, many Grads were already there, milling around.
The crowd grew and in the dark we started linking up with friends and classmates. Six of us ‘78ers were marching with Gulf Company and we snapped a pic.
Soon, the buses arrived. We left a little after 0200 and drove to Lake Frederick. After a quick breakfast, they started linking us Old Grads with the companies and platoons we would each march with. I and several others would walk with G-4, the 4th platoon of Gulf Company and they linked us with them around 0415. We grads were only carrying small Camelbak packs with water and maybe a snack, bandaids and a pair of dry socks. The New Cadets? Full uniforms, helmets, 30-40 pound ruck sacks and their M4 rifles. Yep, men and women alike, they were doing a full combat march back to the Academy to start the academic phase of their Plebe year.
At 0430, right on time, Gulf Company started its return to West Point.
We did the first three miles uphill in the dark. The trail was gravelly and rock strewn but honestly, I didn’t really notice the dark, the climb or the rocks. I was having too much fun talking with the New Cadets and a couple of the Cadet Cadre. The New Cadets were supposed to march in silence, unless they were talking with one of us Old Grads and that’s what they did. But when you started talking with them – man did they open up. They asked me as many questions as I asked them and the time passed quickly. We arrived at the three-mile mark around 0525. True to what they’d warned us about ahead of time, we went out at a spirited 18 Minute/mile pace, but I hadn’t noticed.
After a short break, we continued marching as daylight approached. The New Cadets were in two columns, one on each side of the road, with the cadre and us Old Grads marching in the center between the columns. For the next three hours, I spoke with perhaps 15 or 20 New Cadets. We talked about West Point, Beast Barracks, Plebe Year, the Army, how long I stayed in and where I was stationed, Women at West Point, Women in the Army, Airborne School, the rain from Hurricane Debby, wet boots, what drew them to West Point, why they chose West Point, why I chose West Point, the best part of Beast, the worst part of Beast, square meals, and a whole host of other topics, including the Green Bay Packers and their chances this year. The conversations were full grown adult conversations, not the monosyllabic answers you sometimes receive from youth these days. The next nine miles passed in a blur.
At the 12-mile mark, we arrived at the West Point Ski Slope. We Old Grads said our goodbyes and left the New Cadets. We joined our classmates who were only marching the last two miles into West Point proper. After a break the Class of ‘78 formed up. The Class of 2028 passed in front of us in company formation and unfurled their new motto, “No Calling Too Great – 2028” for the first time. We members of the Proud and Great Class of ‘78 saluted them as they passed.
After the Class of ‘28 marched by, the class of ’78 fell in behind them, leading the Old Grad contingent of nearly 400 marchers. We picked up the cadence of the drum, and as one of my classmates mentioned, even at our age we were still marching better than the Naval Academy does. ;-).
Much of the route for the final two miles was lined with people watching the parade. They too were inspiring with their claps and cheers. I think the last time I marched in a parade was around 1982 in Germany. Eventually we reached main campus and Passed in Review at the Superintendent’s house. We (‘78) chanted “Beat. Navy! Beat. Navy! Beat. Navy!” in time with the drum for the Supe and he laughed.
And then the March Back was over. The Class of ‘28 went to clean their weapons. We ‘78ers walked across The Plain for the rededication of a Statue of Civil War General, John Sedgwick, that the Class of ‘78 had funded a restoration of (stay tuned for a future blog about Sedgwick’s Spurs.) We followed that with a short Memorial Service for our 93 classmates who have passed away and ended with classmate Harry Johnson leading us in singing The Corps. The words to The Corps always ring true, particularly with its references to The Long Gray Line. On this day, it was perhaps a double punch with both the Memorial Service for our departed Classmates and the March Back with the future of the Corps.
The Class gathered one last time a couple hours later for a cookout and a few drinks. We all remarked about what a great time we’d had over the last 24 hours and how impressed we were with the Class of ‘28. We were still enthused, but a bit quieter by now. As evening approached, with hugs and handshakes, we went our separate ways
On my drive home Tuesday morning, my legs were only a little sore. As I drove,I thought about the Class of ‘28 and my interactions with them. My friend and classmate Tony Matos called the weekend magical and I agree. I spoke with young men and women of all colors and ethnicities. I’d spent time with New Cadets from California, Washington, Oregon and Idaho; Oklahoma, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin and Minnesota; Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut. It was as if the melting pot of America was on display for those two days. I’d made the trip to West Point to show and give them a view of the continuity of The Long Gray Line. They gave me so much more – a demonstration of grit and fortitude; a view of encouraging teamwork; a promise of both mental and physical strength; and a look at the future. From my time with the Class of 2028, I felt encouraged. I believe that both now and in the future, West Point, our Army and our Country will be in good hands as the Class of ‘28 answers the call of Duty, Honor, Country.
Addendum:
Live Life Exuberantly 