A Life Well-Lived

In the summer of 1948, a young man left his family farm in Vermont to begin a new life at the Naval Academy. Seventy-four plus years later, that life and that man were celebrated at the incomparably beautiful Naval Academy chapel, in a memorial service attended by many of the people whose lives he touched.

Bill Rowden was a Vice Admiral when I first came to know of him in the fall of 1983. I was a brand-spanking-new Midshipman 4/C at the University of Virginia NROTC Unit, and my company commander was his son John. John managed to convince a few of us to join him for some kind of a college night at a DC Metro High School (which one escapes me), where we “manned a booth” and answered questions about NROTC and UVA. We were put up at the Rowden family home, which happened to be some very nice Admiral’s quarters at the Naval Observatory. I believe the home is now occupied by the Vice President and her family. It was not all work, and I have vestigial memories of beclowning myself in Georgetown where the age of consumption was still 18 at the time.

Before I go on, I imagine some of you as you read to yourself are pronouncing the name “Row-den” where the “Row” rhymes with “cow” . This is incorrect. The “Row” rhymes with “sew”, which is something I learned during the late summer of 1983 when my NROTC Unit Company Commander ensured that his charges knew how to pronounce his name.

A few years after the Georgetown incident(s), I began my own Naval career, which overlapped with VADM Rowden’s for just a spell. Here is a link to a fascinating news conference in which he and VADM Hank Mustin appear to discuss the (then) story of the USS SAMUEL B. ROBERTS (FFG 58) mine strike in 1988. (Fun fact: both of the VADMs in this news conference sired sons who became VADM’s--VADM Tom Rowden and VADM John Mustin—both of whom I am fortunate to call friends). When you are an Ensign—like I was in 1988—Vice Admirals are Titans, god-like creatures whose existence is quasi-mythological. As I have aged and come to work more closely with them, Vice Admirals display far more human traits than I was aware of then, but my respect for their capacity and capability remains strong.

A few years after I retired from the Navy, I was asked to give a presentation to a group of admirals who comprised the “transition team” for the new, incoming Chief of Naval Operations. One of those admirals was one of the aforementioned sons of VADM Bill Rowden—Tom—who was a Rear Admiral (two stars) at the time. I struck up a conversation with Tom offline, probably centered on his younger brother John (who I had not seen since graduating from UVA, but who I tracked through various friend networks) and his father—who I would see annually at a major gathering of Navy Surface Warfare Officers.

At the time, I was consulting in the Pentagon for the man who Tom would soon be replacing as the head of Surface Warfare requirements, and Tom asked me to keep doing what I did when he took over. A few years later, Tom was promoted to VADM and detailed to Commander U.S. Naval Surface Forces in San Diego—and he asked me to help out in that tour.

The bottom line here is that over the past eleven years or so, Tom Rowden became a close friend, and a man who taught me a ton of important things about ships and the Navy.

Like most in my circle, I’d heard about Bill Rowden’s death last fall, and I passed my condolences on to Tom. Last week when Tom called to say there’s be a memorial service at the Naval Academy, I told him I would be there.

I was amazed at the turnout—not just the numbers, but the true giants of the life I chose. As Bill was in his nineties—peers of his are in short supply and I don’t think I saw any there. The oldest fellas were guys in their late seventies and early 80’s, officers who Bill obviously impacted and mentored and who were senior captains when I showed up. These guys went on to be some of the Admirals I served with. The next group were friends/peers of Bill’s sons, and there were quite a few admirals in that group. And then there were present day admirals and captains and commanders—men and women who probably didn’t have much of a relationship with the deceased, but who were guided and mentored by Tom Rowden.

And the Secretary of the Navy was there too.

There were two eulogists, both of whom gave lovely speeches, but I want to concentrate on the second of the two—given by my friend Tom (representing his brother and sister, and their grandchildren). One of the things I used to help Tom with during his active duty days was his speechifying. He was always pretty good at it, but Friday—he nailed it. Close family members giving eulogies can be dicey, as no matter how many times one rehearses, the emotion of the moment can be overwhelming. I’ve seen video of my sweet Catherine eulogizing her husband Chris days after his death on 9/11 at a memorial service in Connecticut—and I am amazed at how she pulled it off. I would have been a basket case. She wasn’t, and neither was Tom. The first eulogist talked about the Navy man. Tom talked about his father. It was funny, it was light-hearted, and it was authentic.

As the insert above states, Bill’s wife (and Tom’s mother) Sally died in 2011. Two years later, Bill married Pat, and they had nine years together, including Bill’s final years, which could not have been easy. I was so very proud of my friend Tom for the way he talked about (and to) Pat—his stepmother—in his eulogy. It is never easy to follow a legend, as Pat did following Sally. And a fifty five year marriage full of kids and world travel and constant moves makes for one heck of a story in a eulogy. But Tom made sure Pat’s love for his father was celebrated, and it was the high point of a great eulogy.

A final thought. There is something very special about the Naval Academy and the stamp it prints on its graduates. Tom’s classmates from the early 80’s were there for him yesterday. Most of the men in the pews were graduates of that great institution. Something happens during that four years, something chemical, something magical, that creates life-long bonds. I have a version of that with a small group of friends from UVA, but it really is just a handful. Strong bonds, but few. I wouldn’t trade my college experience for the world, but every now and then, I do have a little Naval Academy envy.

Thank You

There is a function buried here in Substack that allows subscribers to “free” pages (like this one) to pledge either a monthly or an annual figure that they would automatically be billed for if I decided to make this a pay site. Recently, one of you wonderful subscribers indicated that you would pay $80 a year to read my essays. Through the magic of Substack, I was advised of this wonderful event, and I cannot tell you how great it was to read the notification. Someone actually volunteered to give me money for this! Never fear folks, I don’t see this site costing you any money, but I definitely wanted to thank the gentleman who made my day!