Random, disjointed thoughts..
I am continually amazed by the depth and breadth of our shared history.
I followed the links on Claude Hazel's web page this morning, and although most of the pictures and stories are from earlier times, it was still easy to picture every incident, join every photo, share in every story.
As you remind us all, Conrad (and Al Wrisley and Bob Keith and Claude Hazel), we are indeed a band of brothers.
Looking through those pages this morning, I remembered listening to WMAS (and even broadcasting for them a few times). The station broadcast our football games for a while when I was running the PA system at home games, and I remember taping swimming meets and basketball games away from school and then the tapes were later broadcast. I didn't remember the killing off of the station as Chuck Forsberg described so well, but then I was only a Freshman or Sophomore then and I'm sure the guys running the station barely noticed the underclassmen under foot.
The history of the school was rich and deep. Looking at the chapel windows again brought back the memories of standing in front of the cadet corps (and some parents and girlfriends) on a Sunday afternoon both as a Junior and again as a Senior to deliver the mandatory speech. I was terrified. Haven't a clue what I talked about, and honestly don't think I remember the content of any of the speeches over the five years I listened to them, but I'm sure most will agree that later in life that experience made talking in front of an audience or making presentations or sales solicitations much easier (or at least less intimidating).
Chuck makes the comment that his class noticed that by his time there was a lessening of the traditions, not learning the school songs, etc. and I must echo that. By '64, it was worse. I can only imagine what it must have been like when the last class saw the school close its doors only a few years later. I remember watching an evening news story about the closing (maybe CBS?) and in my mind blaming the war (I lived in Massachusetts at the time and back there in the Peoples Republic of Massachusetts we blamed the war for everything.) and the change in attitudes about the military for its death. How I wish now the school had survived those times.
The last memory today is of my good friend, Rob Ellison. Looking at the newsletter sight a couple of days ago, I saw the tribute to him. It is 35 years since he died in Khe San. And while I think of him only occasionally now, seeing the Newsweek cover the other day brought back years of memories, and all the ones with him at Western were fond ones. He laughed a lot and was good to be around. We even dated sisters for a while. Seeing some of his photographs again made me cry. I was still in the Army when Rob was killed and had just come back from that place. While I was sad at the death of a friend there were so many then that I don't think I really felt it. Looking now, seeing and remembering, the tears were those that should have come out long ago. (Please excuse that personal indulgence.)
Conrad, the memories of all the cadets form a history, not only of Western, but of our times. We talked the other day about Bob Keith's incredible story of Life After Western and the hope that he has the time and will to continue the story after North Africa. I hope others, too, will try to take up a pen and share their memories so that the history will not be lost.
Thank you for your efforts so far.
And to Bob Keith and Al Wrisley and Claude Hazel and Chuck Forsberg and all the others who have helped along the way, thank you. Please accept a salute from a cadet who honors your effort.
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