Alternate Academia
Briefly spotted at Harvard University this past week. Crittenden* at the Weekly Standard:
It was like a fleeting glimpse of an alternative world: the greatness of the past and what might be in the future, brought together for a moment at Harvard University last week.
It was the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month at Harvard’s Memorial Church, built to commemorate students lost in the First World War. Decorated with eagles, crosses, and the sculpted form of a woman weeping over a fallen crusader, walls inscribed with the names of Harvard’s war dead, the church was filled with martial music, the solemn tramp of a color guard, the echoing notes of “Taps,” and the slow tolling of a bell in honor of 16 dead American heroes–Harvard’s own Medal of Honor recipients, recognized as a group for the first time.
… Gomes’s greeting notwithstanding, the U.S. military is officially unwelcome in Harvard Yard, except in occasional shows of pomp and circumstance that belie the university’s workaday policies and practices. Despite Faust’s praise, the military is not a field in which Harvard encourages its brightest minds to contribute and test themselves.
… last week’s reverent welcoming of military values in Harvard Yard may have seemed like a rare moment of clarity. But it may also have been history in the making. For the nation’s oldest university, founded in 1636, it may possibly have been a sign of maturation in progress, an opportunity taken to grasp the fullest measure of what it means to be a leader.
As retired Navy Captain Paul Mawn, a 1963 Harvard graduate, observed of war, “There is no greater crucible of leadership.”
You would have hardly known you were in the very heart of the People’s Republic of Cambridge, in Harvard Yard, the loftiest and most gleaming of ivory towers. I attended with a group of friends that included Larry Gwin, 2/7 Cav, Vietnam; Luke Devlin, 3/7 Cav, Iraq; Paul Clifford, Psyops, Vietnam; and John Nelson Ferrara, U.S. Navy, Vietnam.
High point: introducing my son to Medal of Honor recipient Capt. Thomas Hudner, US Navy. Very nice guy with a time-worn blue ribbon around his neck. We and our wives had shared a table at a veterans event years ago, which I doubt he recalled, but I was pleased to observe again that the kind of man who would purposefully crash-land his F4U-4 Corsair behind enemy lines to pull his downed, unconscious wingman out of burning wreckage happens to be very friendly, engaging and very keen-eyed, with a moment to spare for a young man. Army Chief of Staff Gen. George Casey was there along with Harvard President Drew Gilpin Faust, both very august and powerful figures. But Hudner was the highest ranking man in the church. Possibly followed by Gwin.
*Damn, that Crittenden can write. Whole thing.
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Topics: academia, history, military
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 9:00 am on Saturday, November 14, 2009
2 Responses to “Alternate Academia”
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November 14th, 2009 at 9:18 am
LOL. I did a double take. You don’t usually refer to yourself in the third person.
BTW I finished “Tethered” and loved it. Please thank the author and the person who recommended it on this site.
November 16th, 2009 at 7:45 am
Yeah, when I saw that asterisk I thought maybe it was some other Critter.
Nice piece, Jules!
Just to underline the contrast…. I was in Harvard Square on Friday. As I drove by the School of Government (I think), there was a motley crew of bearded guys waving some big so-called-Palestinian flags. They had some homemade signs with them. One of the signs said “Victory to the Taliban.”
I rolled down the window and yelled “Down With the Taliban!” One of the guys growled back “down with you.” Somehow this made me feel better, because it seemed to put things back on the level of name-calling. Like the two of us were a couple of kids. Instead of a frightened citizen facing an enemy, which is how I felt at first.
I’m not sure what I would have done if I had been on foot. I’ve been thinking about that. In the past, doing nothing would have seemed sensible. Now, not so much.
Anyway, thanks for the antidote, Jules. Let us hold tight to the images you have shared; the echoing notes, the solemn tramp, and the slow tolling of that bell.