I grew up with Pat Waddell. He lived down the street and we were both swimmers from the time we were nine or so and through high school. When we were growing up, we always played basketball in his driveway and sandlot football in the field by Lovett Elementary.
Pat was shy in high school, like so many of us back then, but he was wise beyond his years. Anyone who knew him respected and admired him. He was a natural leader. He was also one of the smartest guys I have ever known.
The Summer after our senior year, just before we went off to college, he and another boy (Fred Berling) and I spent a week bumming around the Texas HIll Country and Austin together. The three of us began our friendship in kindergarten and we became inseparable by high school. I'll never forget that little trip in the HIll Country. It was a celebration of sorts for three boys beginning adulthood.
Pat had been accepted to Texas A&M and about six weeks into our freshman year, on a Monday morning, I received a phone call that he had been killed the night before in a car accident, travelling back to A&M after a weekend visit home.
The tragedy of his death was felt by so many. It was my first real taste of death and its awful aftermath. Even today, not a week goes by when I don't think about Pat Waddell. When I do, I can feel the sunshine on his driveway when we played basketball or his laughter on that little trip to the Hill Country.
This probably won't mean much to those of you that aren't Aggies... but here goes. I also started at Texas A&M the same time Pat did..... everybody knows A&M is big on traditions. One of our traditions is something we call Silver Taps. Once a month, anytime a student has died the past month, there is a ceremony in Academic Plaza late at night. The entire campus is dark. Taps is played three times, with buglers facing North, South, and West. This is something all students are educated about when they go to ' Fish Camp' the summer before their freshman year. So the first week after classes had started, I picked up the Battalion (the student newspaper) and I saw the notice that there would be a Silver Taps Ceremony that night, so I read the notice. My heart sank when I saw it was for Pat Waddell. Needless to say, I attended Silver Taps that evening. It is one of the most gut wrenching traditions we have at Aggieland and none more so than when you know the person. I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
Thanks for your note, Janet. I certainly remember you, but I did not know you knew Pat. What a nice thing for you to say.
Pat was such a quiet young man. Not well known in high school, but destined for success. Since he died so soon after our graduation and at a time when so many were starting new chapters in their lives, very few knew of his passing.
I think I recall having a nice visit with you and your husband at our 30 year reunion., which was the last one I attended.
Roderick Hardie
I grew up with Pat Waddell. He lived down the street and we were both swimmers from the time we were nine or so and through high school. When we were growing up, we always played basketball in his driveway and sandlot football in the field by Lovett Elementary.
Pat was shy in high school, like so many of us back then, but he was wise beyond his years. Anyone who knew him respected and admired him. He was a natural leader. He was also one of the smartest guys I have ever known.
The Summer after our senior year, just before we went off to college, he and another boy (Fred Berling) and I spent a week bumming around the Texas HIll Country and Austin together. The three of us began our friendship in kindergarten and we became inseparable by high school. I'll never forget that little trip in the HIll Country. It was a celebration of sorts for three boys beginning adulthood.
Pat had been accepted to Texas A&M and about six weeks into our freshman year, on a Monday morning, I received a phone call that he had been killed the night before in a car accident, travelling back to A&M after a weekend visit home.
The tragedy of his death was felt by so many. It was my first real taste of death and its awful aftermath. Even today, not a week goes by when I don't think about Pat Waddell. When I do, I can feel the sunshine on his driveway when we played basketball or his laughter on that little trip to the Hill Country.
Janet Handley
This probably won't mean much to those of you that aren't Aggies... but here goes. I also started at Texas A&M the same time Pat did..... everybody knows A&M is big on traditions. One of our traditions is something we call Silver Taps. Once a month, anytime a student has died the past month, there is a ceremony in Academic Plaza late at night. The entire campus is dark. Taps is played three times, with buglers facing North, South, and West. This is something all students are educated about when they go to ' Fish Camp' the summer before their freshman year. So the first week after classes had started, I picked up the Battalion (the student newspaper) and I saw the notice that there would be a Silver Taps Ceremony that night, so I read the notice. My heart sank when I saw it was for Pat Waddell. Needless to say, I attended Silver Taps that evening. It is one of the most gut wrenching traditions we have at Aggieland and none more so than when you know the person. I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
Roderick Hardie
Thanks for your note, Janet. I certainly remember you, but I did not know you knew Pat. What a nice thing for you to say.
Pat was such a quiet young man. Not well known in high school, but destined for success. Since he died so soon after our graduation and at a time when so many were starting new chapters in their lives, very few knew of his passing.
I think I recall having a nice visit with you and your husband at our 30 year reunion., which was the last one I attended.
Janet Handley
Look forward to seeing you!