I feel privileged to write this brief memorial for my brother, Lieutenant Stephenson, for I knew him well; knew him not only as a sister but also as a friend and companion who watched him grow and develop into the outstanding young American that he was at the time of his death.

He was known to his family and intimates as "Bo". Just why, I never knew, but somehow or other the name seemed to fit him and stuck to him. It is by that name that we think of him today.

Bo was born to the Service. His father was an officer of the United States Marines; his youth was passed in Marine Corps posts, at naval stations and at one Army post, Fortress Monroe, where his father attended an Army Artillery school. He was an unusually bright, youngster. One time when he was a little boy of six or so, he was brought into a social gathering where there were many Army, Navy and Marine Corps officers present. Bo was presented to the officers and their wives, he clicked his heels, acknowledged each introduction and never missed the rank or service of any of the officers to whom he was presented.

Bo had great ability as a linguist. When he was a very small boy, we spent two years on Guam, where our father had been
ordered to duty. Upon his return to the Mainland, Bo chattered in Guamanian like a true Chamorro. Later he studied Spanish and Russian. Sellor Sanchez Gavito, at that time Charge d'Affaires at the Mexican Embassy, told me that Bo's Spanish was letter perfect, the best that he had ever heard from any person whose native tongue was English. Bo's extra curricular activities were not limited to the study of languages, however. He was a talented musician and an astute chess player.

The action in which Bo met his death was not the first aircraft tragedy in which he was involved. At the age of 12, while in transit in a commercial plane, he crashed and for some time suffered as the result of the physical injuries he received at this time.

Despite the handicap of jumping from one school to another as the result of trans-fers of his father due to orders, Bo's schol- astic record was outstanding. He graduated from Western High School in Washington, D. C., the youngest boy in his class,
and although he entered Western during the second semester of the senior year, he graduated third from the top of the class and was designated as Sergeant-at-Arms in recognition of his position as an outstand-ing cadet.

Bo was too young to be drafted, but he was a big boy and sensitive about his youth. He wanted desperately to get into the Service. After graduating from high school, he spent one year at the Virginia Military Institute. He then took the competitive examination for presidential appointment to West Point with very little preparation and felt that he had failed to achieve his goal; however, being determined to enter the Armed Services, he enlisted in the Marine Corps with the hope of being commissioned as a Marine officer. He had been at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina, less than one week when his presidential appointment to West Point came through and he was discharged from the Marine Corps to enter the Military Academy. I well recall his humorous comment regarding his three days in the Marine Corps as result of which he officially rated two ribbons. He said to me, "Three days in the Marine Corps and two ribbons-I never knew anyone to do any better than that." While a cadet at the Military Academy, Bo was honored by being appointed at the request of the Mexican Embassy, to be an aide to the son of the President of Mexico during the latter's visit to the Military Academy. This association ripened into a true friendship, and, following his graduation, Bo visited young Seilor Aleman in Mexico City.

I feel quite sure that if Bo had been able to have chosen the manner in which he should die, it would have been as he did, as an officer of the Air Force, making the supreme sacrifice for his country and those things in which he believed.

-Violet Jane Stephenson.