You will find this very hard to believe, but there was a time at West Point when the Academy attempted to conduct its business without Gus Fishburne. Oh, yes; it is true. Just ask the only two people still toiling at this wonderful and historic spot who are eyewitnesses to this incredible fact: one is a WG-3 from Roads and Grounds and the other a GS-4 in the Dean’s Office, although there is some possibility the secretary retired unnoticed two years ago but has not yet been missed due to the enormity of that office. (As a former CPO used to put it when referring to the Dean’s Office, “Oh, the humanity.”)

 

But then Gus was hired on and … oh, the hiring itself bears telling. The Superintendent formed a blue ribbon selection committee to screen applicants for the Alumni Affairs job by asking the Dean, Commandant, and Chief of Staff to appoint someone, anyone actually, who could be spared for this important process. The committee quickly skimmed the applications, discarded all but three on the spot, interviewed two locals for appearances’ sake, and then set up a telephone interview with the third guy, Gus, who was in Korea. No tape of that telephone interview exists, but members of the committee contacted for this testimonial tell the same story. The phone connection to Korea was of poor quality and committee members and Gus shouted at each other to communicate. For example, a committee member would yell, “WHAT…WOULD…YOU… DO…TO…IMPROVE… CLASS…REUNIONS?” Gus would respond, “SAY…AGAIN… OVER!” And so it went. Since it was 2300 hours in Korea, Gus was probably in his pajamas, lying on his bunk, sipping bourbon. In fact, we know he was. It was no contest, he got the job, and his reign commenced.

 

He seemed to be everywhere at once. How is it possible to make every meeting; attend every Corps Squad tennis match (men’s and women’s); co-host scores of tailgate parties; run hundreds of reunions; sponsor entire companies of cadets; send six superintendents, two deputy superintendents, and five deans off on annual Founder’s Day boondoggles; run his own West Point class behind the scenes; and still find time to eliminate the Centennial Class Reunion Program or deny the Dean faculty development funds because the pistol club used the last $5,000 of unrestricted alumni donations to go to the Virgin Islands over Spring Break? The answer is not, “By going everywhere on a scooter.”

 

The answer is to be found instead in the profound devotion of this man to the US Army, his alma mater, his family, and his community. Look up “fierce loyalty” in your thesaurus and you will find a picture of somebody who could be Gus. You want him on your side and it has been easy to accomplish this: take his advice and you are home free. Guaranteed. Ask the dozens of reunion coordinators. Ask donors. Ask cadets. Ask his classmates. (No need to ask his wife or the Class of 1964.)

 

Fortunately for us, this gruff, curmudgeonly, nattily dressed warrior and his comely and talented wife, Pat, will be around for some time to come as Gus fulfills his destiny and becomes a legend in his own time.

A friend and classmate

June 8, 2005