"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."

SAMUEL STREIT COURSEN , who fell in Korea, is not dead; he lives still, and will live, in the tender memories of countless friends whose heartbeats were quickened by his affection; in the admiration of all who knew his inspiring leadership and stalwart manhood; in the gratitude of all who were enriched by his comradeship, inspired by his devotion to duty, and filled with gladness that so rare a spirit has triumphantly fulfilled its mission, that a life so full of joy and achievement has been gloriously lived.

Ah, but the pity of it, that a life so meaningful should be so brief! That is not what Dr. Joseph Warren thought when, on that June day in 1775, he rose from a sickbed, and exclaiming, "It is a beautiful and fitting thing to die for one's country," went out to Bunker Hill to fight and to die. That is not what Ben Jonson believed when he wrote, more than three hundred years ago, "In short measures life may perfect be." That is not what the Captain of our salvation thought, when, facing death at the age of thirty-three, He reported to His Supreme Commander, "I have finished the work that thou gavest me to do."

The Latin proverb, "Nil nisi bonum de mortuis," implies that anything ill concerning the dead should remain unspoken. As I write in reminiscent vein about Lieutenant Samuel Streit Coursen out of an acquaintance of long years with him and his family, I know nothing except good that can be spoken about Sam Coursen, strong, lovable, valiant as he was for a sadly brief lifetime. If I have ever heard of an extreme independence manifested by him in his early childhood, it is somehow akin to the fearless and self-sacrificing spirit he displayed fighting in Korea, not only serving his country and mankind, but also seeking to save a fellow soldier, one of the men of his command, whose members affectionately called themselves "Coursen's boys."

Let me give weight to my testimony concerning the quality of Sam Coursen's manhood by attesting my competency as a witness. When in 1940 he became a pupil of Newark Academy, where I have taught for over half a century, he came from Madison Academy, of which I had been the first head nearly fifty years before. His father and his uncle were pupils of mine more than forty years ago in Newark Academy. When Sam came from Madison Academy to Newark Academy, it was natural that he should win my affection and admiration, which have increased with the passing years.

What his schoolmates at Newark thought of him is evidenced by their choice of him as president of his class, president of the athletic association, and captain of the football team. To quote from the POLYMNIAN, the class yearbook of 1945: "N. A. students remember his spectacular pass catching abilities on the football team, which he captained. . . Sam possesses a goodly share of brain and brawn, thus making the ideal schoolboy and man." When a football signal called for a forward pass to Sam, his six feet, four inches of alert and sturdy manhood made it almost impossible to pass the ball over his head.

One incident that stands out in my memory with especial distinctness, after nearly a decade, was a boxing bout in the gymnasium when Sam donned the gloves and stood up against Tony Minist, about a year his senior. Tony, who later gained gridiron fame as a member of the University of Pennsylvania's eleven, could strike sledge hammer blows, but Sam had the nerve and courage to take the worst that Minist could inflict. Somewhat later Sam won the title of amateur boxing heavy weight champion of New Jersey. After losing to Sal Cassale, a husky opponent, who won the Golden Gloves bout on a technical knock-out, Sam challenged again and this time won the event and the coveted title. The same courage that enabled him to face these stalwart combatants was manifested in his last fight in Korea, October 12, 1950.

Exactly a year after his death, Newark Academy athletic field was dedicated to all the school's valiant war dead and named Coursen Memorial Field. The guest speaker at the dedication ceremony was Major General Frederick A. Irving, Superintendent of the U. S. Military Academy at West Point. A bronze tablet affixed to the south wall of the school building, overlooking the field, perpetuates his memory and that of his fellows who died for their country and ours, in this eloquent inscription:

"COURSEN MEMORIAL FIELD - In honor of all sons of Newark Academy who gave their lives in the service of our country this athletic field is dedicated in the name of SAMUEL STREIT COURSEN Class of 1945. His heroism is a magnificent symbol of the valor and devotion of his fellow alumni who have made the complete sacrifice. Lieutenant Coursen fell in action in Korea October 12, 1950, in saving the life of a wounded man in his command. He was awarded posthumously a grateful nation's highest tribute, the Congressional Medal of Honor."

Let no one suppose that the recognition of Sam Coursen's sterling character and glorious career is confined to his teachers and associates at Newark Academy. At Fort Benning, Georgia, is a rifle range named in honor of Samuel Streit Coursen. (The very next range bears the name of the redoubtable General Patton.) A plaque in Cullum Hall at West Point, honors him as a winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor. The Baltusrol Golf Club at Springfield, New Jersey, annually awards a silver cup, open to competition by its younger members, on the basis not only of skill in the game, but also on the possession of certain qualities that are reminiscent of Samuel Coursen, whose name the cup bears.

It is fitting that the closing words of this memorial tribute should come from the heart and pen of one of Sam's closest friends, one of his roommates at West Point. In a letter to Sam's parents Lieutenant Philip R. Feir wrote:

"At West Point in the summer of 1945 I first made Sam's acquaintance, an acquaintance that was to grow into the finest of friendships. Sam and I became roommates, and thus I knew him intimately under many varying conditions.

"One of Sam's finest traits was his splendid sense of humor and his optimistic outlook on life. . . Coupled with his zest for life Sam had a tremendous loyalty and respect for his fellow men. As his roommate and close friend, I have felt the strength of his loyalty, and to this day have drawn inspiration from it.

"I don't know when Sam met Evie Sprague; it seems to me that it happened during our junior year. Never have I beheld a more complete happiness than theirs. My mind goes back to Sam coming down the ramp after receiving his diploma on graduation day - and there waiting for him at the bottom of that ramp was Evie and I think that at that moment they were completely alone in that vast auditorium. Their subsequent marriage was in my estimation a perfect union. . . At Fort Benning Sam and Evie had their first child. I've never known a couple more deserving of this handiwork of God - and Sam I think was the proudest of the proud.

"What high tribute can I pay to this man whom I knew so well, now that he is gone? I can say that those who knew him are better men for having been so honored; that his quiet courage, his fine humor, his loyalty, his ability to find good in others, are of the stuff that makes our nation great; that I grieve his passing as I would that of a son. . .

Let Bayard Taylor sound taps for us over Sam Coursen's resting place:

"Sleep, soldier! still in honored rest
Thy truth and valor wearing;
The bravest are the tenderest
The loving are the daring."

    -Albert T. Davis,
    Dean of Students of Newark Academy.

Personal Eulogy