Mike Garn

(10 SEP 1931, 27 JUN 2003)

Mike Garn Eulogies



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Front row, Col. Fraser, Dulk, Bossert, Smetana, Straus
Fikaris, Gilpatrick, Cathey, Jacobs, Maj. McCanna
2nd row, Donald, Raymond, Garn, Bates, Dorward, Eddins, Wix
3rd Row, Fetko, Lovell, Ginter, Karam, Geran, Hergenroder, Ludwig, Rock, Miller
(1954 Firstie Trip)



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I - 1

1st Row: Roberts, Robinson, Malone, Peters, Poorman, Klung, Ward
2nd Row: Nichols, Leo Warner, Cairns, Cassells, Smor
3rd Row: Bob Henry, Chris Miller, DeMaris, Garn
4th Row: Dempsie Davis, Trobaugh, Streett, Baker (CO)



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3rd Bn Staff, 1st Regt

Garn, Henry, Crandall, McWilliams



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Top: Chris Miller, Bill Wilcox, Hank Klung, Bob Henry, Mike Garn
Bottom: Chris Miller

Summer 1953)



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So, Mike Garn, you decided to pass in review in front of the Lord? I expect you did it in fine style, with a grin from ear to ear. It's been more than awhile since we last saw one another, but we've certainly marched together more than a few times. I remember well the first day we met. July 3 (1951), Beast Barracks. You, Al Bundren, and I, and probably another whose name escapes me, in that first hectic day at West Point, shuttled back and forth to the third floor room assigned us in Central Area, dropping the ever-increasing load of uniforms, shoes, combat boots, and other soldiering equipment the Beast Detail loaded us with. And there was that smile. The quick, harried hand shake, and it was off to the races the rest of the day. The Morman boy from Sugar City, Idaho. We sweated through Beast Barracks together, got acquainted through quiet conversation in the evenings and after taps, in 4th New Cadet Company. You took Beast Barracks far better than me, and was ever the steadying hand, along with Al Bundren. Then it was off to I-1 with you, me to K-1, and the compartmentalized life kept us somewhat in different worlds, except I remember well the day you gave me a boxing lesson, in the Physical Education Department's Plebe boxing class. I still howl laughing whenever I think of it. I had a good left jab. I know that because Mr. Kroeten told me so. Got the big head, big time. But when you and I got in the ring together, Mr. Kroeten told me something else. "When you jab, keep that right hand and right shoulder up. Don't drop that right hand. And don't drop your left arm after you jab. Straight out, quick, straight back! Jab! Jab! Jab!" Mr. Kroeten talked. You listened. I didn't listen enough. Then came the command, "Box!" I threw a couple jabs at you, and hit home. Thought I was doing pretty good. Mr. Kroeten, "Keep that left up when you jab, McWilliams. Straight out and straight back. Quick!" Jabbed again, "Wham!" A smashing right cross hit me. Staggered to my right, knees buckling, seeing stars. Shook it off. Got back into position. A couple more jabs. Another error, dropped my right as the left jab launched. "Wham!" A wicked left hook hit home. This time I lurched to my left, my left ankle buckled under as wobbly knees gave way and I crashed to the mat on my left side. The room was swirling, and stars were dancing again. Someone was waving their hand in front of my face asking "How many fingers?" Who ever heard of a boxer spraining his ankle boxing? Well, I did. They had take off my shoe, check the ankle, help me out to an ambulance and haul me to the hospital for X-rays. I hobbled on crutches a few days, but never forgot the boxing lesson you gave me. And three years later there we were together again, on Second Beast. You the cadet company commander, me the first sergeant. We took the Beasts of '58 on the Plebe Hike and relived our Plebe Hike, only we were the instructors this time. Then came the first class academic year, and you became the cadet battalion commander, 3d Battalion, 1st Regiment, and there were Bob Henry, Lou Crandall and me, your staff. We did so many practice parades and reviews, and so many of the real thing, I lost count. But one thing was for sure. You did it well every time. Just as you did in academics and anything else you chose to do. Don't think you and I were ever in the same academic section together. Your excellence there left all but a small number of us far behind. When we graduated we went down different paths, you in the Army, me the Air Force. I saw you one time while we were on active duty. You came through Reese Air Force Base in Lubbock, TX. You stopped by in your red sports car after you had completed your Rhodes Scholar work, and your preparations to instruct in the Social Science Department at West Point. The year was 1961), not long before you joined the faculty at the Academy. You stopped by to visit with Dale and Eddie Ward, and, as I recall, Dale and Eddie invited us over. Ronnie and I visited with you briefly. We crossed paths only one other time, at a reunion, the 30th, I believe. By that time, you had long since left the Army and gone on to other pursuits. Life plays funny tricks and brings ironies. You left the small town in Idaho, headed toward a far different life, eventually in Virginia. Our three grown children all Texans by birth, one by one, migrated back to your native Idaho, to Boise, after we served two years near another small town in Idaho, Mountain Home. So, how was that last pass in review Harvey Arlen "Mike" Garn? I bet the Lord smiled when he saw that snappy saber manual and "eyes right." You always did it so well. And I'll bet you smiled that irrepressible smile of yours, too. You always did. If you'll pardon the fighter pilot lingo, Mike, "Here's a nickle on the grass, to save a fighter pilot's,--!" The nickle is bright, polished, and sparkles in the sunlight. Just like you always do. In memory of a friend and classmate, Bill McWilliams July 3, 2003) ********************** I spoke with Gwen Garn, Mike's widow, a day after his death. He suffered from advanced prostate cancer (his doctor had recently told him he had only a few months to live) and from serious heart problems. Gwen said that the immediate cause of death was probably a heart attack. She will honor his wishes and have no funeral or memorial service. She told me that he died a few hours after a visit by Donne and Kathleen Olvey, so Donne was the last classmate to see him. Mike and I were roommates at West Point for four years, and during that time I probably knew him as well as anyone. He had attended a small college in Idaho for two years before entering West Point, and he once told me that he was on the verge of being kicked out of college in his sophomore year after being caught playing poker. The dean recommended that he seek an appointment to West Point, as a way of avoiding being expelled, and in order to get his life "straightened out". He found the military regimen and the disciplinary, athletic and academic challenges much to his liking, and he excelled in every phase of cadet life. In the summer of 1951) Mike was mature enough to see the challenge, as well as the humor and irony our introduction to West Point, and he is one of the few people I know who genuinely enjoyed Beast Barracks. He was never one to shrink from a challenge, and he often sought out difficult challenges to test himself against the best. The earliest example I remember occurred during our Beast Barracks in the 4th New Cadet Company, when Mike and one of his roommates (it (MAY have been Al Bundren) challenged one of the strongest and meanest members of the Beast Detail, Lloyd Rhiddlehoover, to a pushups contest. I seem to remember that Lloyd did more pushups one-handed than Mike or his roommate did with two hands, and they caught hell for days afterwards. For Mike it was great fun, and one of the high points of his Beast Barracks' experience. At that time Mike was a devout Mormon, and his religion was an important influence in his life. He did his best to get to know everyone. He genuinely liked everyone he met, and everybody liked him. It is fair to say that he was one of the most talented members of our class and, during our cadet days, one of the most popular. His general outlook during that period was well characterized by one of his favorite sayings, which he often repeated to my other roommate, Dick Baker, and me, "Today is the greatest day the world has ever seen. Tomorrow will be better!" His infectious and optimistic enthusiasm enriched all who knew him, and made the West Point experience better for all of us. He had played quarterback in high school and college football, and although he was too small for the A-squad he was quarterback for the B-squad team that ran the plays of upcoming opponents against the A-squad. After every day of practice he came back to barracks literally beaten to a pulp, with strains, bruises, contusions, torn ligaments, and other injuries that would have put the average man in the hospital. He never complained and never gave up, and took pride in his ability to take physical punishment and to dish it out. He excelled in all phases of academics, and his natural interest in people and organizations caused him to gravitate toward history, politics and government. His class standing improved each year as those subjects became more prominent. He was active in the Debate Council and Forum, and he and his debate partner (Bob Henry) won numerous regional and national debate tournaments. He became a persuasive and eloquent speaker, with a phenomenal ability to "think on his feet". Just after the beginning of our First Class Year, our Tac (I-1) confided in me that Mike had been one of the men considered for First Captain and Regimental Commander, but because of his height (about 5'-10") and his chronic "sway back" posture, the powers that were settled on him as Commander of the 3rd Bn, 1st Regt. In December of 1954) Mike was named a Rhodes Scholar (along with Donne Olvey, Marty McGuire, and John Hamilton). He entered Oxford in the fall of 1955), and spent three years studying politics, philosophy and economics. We renewed our friendship on several occasions in 1956)-57 when he visited Jackie and me in Germany. In 1961) Mike was appointed to the faculty of Social Sciences at West Point, and I saw him off and on during the two years we overlapped there. He was by all accounts a brilliant and inspiring teacher, much admired and respected by his students and colleagues. An accomplishment he took great pride in was beating the Superintendent, General Westmoreland, in squash, when Westmoreland was first on the squash ladder. In 1963) Mike resigned his commission and returned to Oxford to continue his studies in economics. He told me once that during his exit interview the Superintendent, who was not happy with his decision, said: "You know what your trouble is Captain Garn? YOU READ TOO MUCH!" I saw Mike in Oxford in 1966), and we had a great time catching up on the preceding few years. A short time later he returned to the U.S. to work as an economist in the Department of Commerce, as part of President Johnson's "War on Poverty". At about that time that we lost touch, and I saw him only a few times in subsequent years. I know that he worked for a time for the Urban Institute in Washington, and later as a consultant, perhaps for the World Bank and other international organizations. He also spent a year or so in Egypt as an advisor to the Egyptian government on economic policy and urban planning. Others (MAY know more about his career in the 70's, 80's and 90's. I last saw him when my wife Mary and I visited him and Gwen at their home in Spottswood, Virginia about two years ago. He still did some consulting work, and his intellectual vitality was as sharp as ever. But his physical health was clearly declining. I only learned later, from a classmate, about his struggle with prostate cancer and his earlier heart attack. An example of Mike's wit and personality was related to me in 1974) during a visit to the University of Oxford. I had dinner at the college Mike had attended, and found myself sitting next to a man I recognized as a teacher of philosophy when Mike was a Rhodes Scholar, almost 20 years earlier. I said to him, "Perhaps you know my friend Mike Garn." He replied, with great enthusiasm, "Oh, Mister Garn! Yes I remember him well. I was his tutor in Moral Philosophy. On his first day with me I said, 'Mister Garn, today we will begin a discussion of the foundations of moral philosophy'. To which Mister Garn replied, 'There's nothing to discuss, it is all laid out in the Book of Mormon!'" Mike Garn was a natural leader. Had he remained on active duty he would certainly have risen to the highest ranks. He chose another path, and in his own way made important contributions to our country and our society. I will always remember him as the good-natured, witty, generous, outgoing, friendly man I knew when we were Cadets. Well done Mike, Be Thou at Peace. Bill Streett July 7, 2003) ********************** Mike stood out from the rest from the very first day of Beast Barracks in 4th Company where we enjoyed our days under the tutelage of Dick Shea and his 'gracious' staff. What quickly made him a standout was his positive attitude throughout those hectic first days. He seemed to revel in the pressure and provided a model for the rest of us who found it to be something less than revelry! I went to C-2, he to I-1, so we saw little of each other the remaining 4 years and met only once at one of the later reunions, but I'm sure that attitude was always there,- the grin was. Rest in peace, Mike,- it's a privilege to have known you and served with you, even if only in the halcyon days of Beast Barracks! Walt McCrillis August 29, 2003)

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