Excerpts
"Courage is a word I rarely use. I can look back upon most of my fifty-four years as unremarkable, devoid of hardship, danger, and sacrifice. But one night, the random walk of life took me down into the place where courage was the only light, where heroes arose, and where other heroes died. A place where random chance separated life from death. For twenty-nine years, that memory was locked in a back room of my mind, the door closed and a “do not disturb” sign hung on the knob. For reasons not completely clear to me, I needed to open that door. I needed to understand why eleven of my shipmates died. I needed to start searching for answers, and I started where that night began...
....When I opened the door of Chase Hall, I saw the bright shining brass of wheelhouse equipment recovered from the bridge of the Cuyahoga. I was instantly back on deck as the shock and terror of the Cuyahoga’s last seven minutes on the water replayed in my mind, as it had a thousand times before. The screams, moans, and calls for help over the roar of rushing water made my knees shake. Yet one more time, I could see the ship on her side with every man fighting for his life, but this time the solid presence of her shining brass brought the sinking into even more vivid recollection...
.....Suddenly, I realized that every officer candidate was honoring my shipmates. They hadn’t forgotten the Cuyahoga. Indeed, after twenty-nine years, my shipmates are still honored every day by every officer candidate in the Coast Guard. I hadn’t been remembering that night all alone.
.....Now that we could see the vessel more clearly, it was obvious this wasn’t a fishing boat. The Santa Cruz II was a 521-foot dry bulk carrier, loaded with 19,000 tons of West Virginia coal, heading down the Chesapeake Bay from Baltimore on the way to San Nicolas, Argentina — and now it was aimed for the Cuyahoga. Captain Robinson still assumed it was heading up the Potomac.
.....Gordon wasn’t sure which way was up or which way was out, but he knew “out” was the only option. He figured that “out” was the direction from which the water was rushing in. Good assumption. His brain was working at five times the normal processing speed, and the only program on was “up, out, and air.” When he dove down, he became entangled in the rubberized black-out curtain flapping in the watery breeze. He came back up into the air pocket and immediately tried diving again, but the curtain stopped him a second time. Then it struck him like a bell ringing in his head that the curtain would make a perfect rope ladder into the next compartment.
....To all officers, crewmen, and especially the survivors of the Cuyahoga tragedy,
I have put off writing until now, hoping I could find the words, the unemotional moment, and the wisdom necessary to handle the task at hand. Time hasn’t been any help. The heart hasn’t healed, and the shock and loss is permanent. However, I must not think of my feelings and loss, but rather of the men who were there through God’s grace were selected to carry on what our son died for.
It would be easier for me to write to you if I could remember one instance of displeasure with Bruce, some conflict of opinions and even the heartaches that some parents have—we were spared because Bruce was kind and sensitive to the needs of others, and had a deep love for us. Therefore, I must tell you how sorry we are that your class had to have such a tragic interruption and a dark shadow cast on your dreams. I can’t let you feel sorry for yourselves or for us, or let this interfere with your aims and goals—I must ask each and every one from the bottom of my heart to continue with your ambitions, for me, with added strength and resolution. This was Bruce’s dream, this is what he would want of his buddies and I would be so happy and so proud to know you carried his dreams to success. If yours was but a desire in the past, it should now be a dedication.
Look to Lt. Roger Emory and your superiors for guidance, and trust in their ability to help you through your trials—as we, parents of Bruce, have had to do recently. I will be in contact with Lt. Emory and will follow your progress and share all your setbacks, trials, and success.
If there is need for a letter from home, a word of encouragement, or just a friend, we have a vacancy.
With much love,
Ray and Laura Wood
.....On the internet, I found a copy of an invitation to Captain Robinson’s funeral. Obviously, this was written by someone who knew him: “On May 6, 1999, CWO Don Robinson died after a long illness. Don was a great friend and teacher. He will be greatly missed by all who ever knew him. . . . Don, may God grant you the comfort and peace promised in His word. Those left behind will miss you. Fair winds, my friend.” My research also uncovered a quote by Captain Robinson: “The Lord has given me strength to realize that some good will come from this, somehow — some day.”
....When I opened the door of Chase Hall, I saw the bright shining brass of wheelhouse equipment recovered from the bridge of the Cuyahoga. I was instantly back on deck as the shock and terror of the Cuyahoga’s last seven minutes on the water replayed in my mind, as it had a thousand times before. The screams, moans, and calls for help over the roar of rushing water made my knees shake. Yet one more time, I could see the ship on her side with every man fighting for his life, but this time the solid presence of her shining brass brought the sinking into even more vivid recollection...
.....Suddenly, I realized that every officer candidate was honoring my shipmates. They hadn’t forgotten the Cuyahoga. Indeed, after twenty-nine years, my shipmates are still honored every day by every officer candidate in the Coast Guard. I hadn’t been remembering that night all alone.
.....Now that we could see the vessel more clearly, it was obvious this wasn’t a fishing boat. The Santa Cruz II was a 521-foot dry bulk carrier, loaded with 19,000 tons of West Virginia coal, heading down the Chesapeake Bay from Baltimore on the way to San Nicolas, Argentina — and now it was aimed for the Cuyahoga. Captain Robinson still assumed it was heading up the Potomac.
.....Gordon wasn’t sure which way was up or which way was out, but he knew “out” was the only option. He figured that “out” was the direction from which the water was rushing in. Good assumption. His brain was working at five times the normal processing speed, and the only program on was “up, out, and air.” When he dove down, he became entangled in the rubberized black-out curtain flapping in the watery breeze. He came back up into the air pocket and immediately tried diving again, but the curtain stopped him a second time. Then it struck him like a bell ringing in his head that the curtain would make a perfect rope ladder into the next compartment.
....To all officers, crewmen, and especially the survivors of the Cuyahoga tragedy,
I have put off writing until now, hoping I could find the words, the unemotional moment, and the wisdom necessary to handle the task at hand. Time hasn’t been any help. The heart hasn’t healed, and the shock and loss is permanent. However, I must not think of my feelings and loss, but rather of the men who were there through God’s grace were selected to carry on what our son died for.
It would be easier for me to write to you if I could remember one instance of displeasure with Bruce, some conflict of opinions and even the heartaches that some parents have—we were spared because Bruce was kind and sensitive to the needs of others, and had a deep love for us. Therefore, I must tell you how sorry we are that your class had to have such a tragic interruption and a dark shadow cast on your dreams. I can’t let you feel sorry for yourselves or for us, or let this interfere with your aims and goals—I must ask each and every one from the bottom of my heart to continue with your ambitions, for me, with added strength and resolution. This was Bruce’s dream, this is what he would want of his buddies and I would be so happy and so proud to know you carried his dreams to success. If yours was but a desire in the past, it should now be a dedication.
Look to Lt. Roger Emory and your superiors for guidance, and trust in their ability to help you through your trials—as we, parents of Bruce, have had to do recently. I will be in contact with Lt. Emory and will follow your progress and share all your setbacks, trials, and success.
If there is need for a letter from home, a word of encouragement, or just a friend, we have a vacancy.
With much love,
Ray and Laura Wood
.....On the internet, I found a copy of an invitation to Captain Robinson’s funeral. Obviously, this was written by someone who knew him: “On May 6, 1999, CWO Don Robinson died after a long illness. Don was a great friend and teacher. He will be greatly missed by all who ever knew him. . . . Don, may God grant you the comfort and peace promised in His word. Those left behind will miss you. Fair winds, my friend.” My research also uncovered a quote by Captain Robinson: “The Lord has given me strength to realize that some good will come from this, somehow — some day.”