S. Whitten “Whit” Rusk III ’56
S. Whitten “Whit” Rusk III ’56 passed away on April 29, 2023. A full obituary can be found here. In addition, Class Secretary George Chien shares this rembrance:
This is one I didn’t want ever to have to write.
I received a call from Pat Rusk to inform me that her husband of 64 years, Stanley Whitten Rusk IIII, died on April 29, surrounded by his loving family, in Connecticut. The awful cause was cancer, from which he had suffered for a number of years and which he was thought to have defeated just a couple of years ago.
Whit was my sophomore roommate at Chi Psi. He was, I must say, a congenial roommate. I’ve searched my memory for anything resembling a long-buried issue and found nothing to report—except, of course, as avid sports fans. Whit grew up in Haddonfield, New Jersey, so his teams were based in the City of Brotherly Love, whereas I was bred, though not born, in rural upstate New York, where faraway Philadelphia seemed like another universe altogether. As for participation, Whit tried out for football and baseball as a freshman, but did not play on the varsity in either. I never tried out for any school sports teams, but we both were stalwarts on the Lodge’s intermural touch football, basketball, and softball squads. Whit and I were like a Mutt and Jeff combo: He was even taller than me than I was taller than Don Vancini. Whit had a reputation for being clumsy. Was he still growing into his 6’4” frame? In fact, he was really a fine, under-appreciated athlete.
Our junior years, we split up. I roomed with Tom Reed, and Whit teamed up with Henry George Hager III. Whit and Merc (HG is the chemical symbol for mercury) were a good match. Perhaps it was their similar heights. Or the fact that both were sons of alumni. Or was it the III at the ends of their names? Whatever it was, it worked.
After graduation we went our separate ways. I think we saw each other only once—a brief chance encounter on a street in midtown Manhattan, undoubtedly more than a half-century ago. But we remained in contact over the years, and we always considered each other as friends.
We had a near miss a few years back at a Little-Three contest on Andrus Field. Ann and I were sitting on the Wesleyan side, of course. Unbeknown to us, Whit was on visiting side, cheering for his grandson who was then playing for (gasp) Amherst! A list of Whit’s grandson’s alma-maters, by the way, reads like who’s who of elite Eastern colleges. In no particular order: Bowdoin, Amherst, Tufts, Lafayette, and RPI!
We had a near miss a few years back at a Little-Three contest on Andrus Field. Ann and I were sitting on the Wesleyan side, of course. Unbeknown to us, Whit was in visitors’ bleachers, cheering for his grandson who was then playing for (*gasp*) Amherst! A list of Whit’s grandson’s alma-maters, by the way, reads like a who’s who of elite Eastern colleges. In no particular order: Bowdoin, Amherst, Tufts, Lafayette, and RPI!
Whit was the last of my Wesleyan roommates. The others, all sorely missed, were Tom Dinell, Bill Shephard, Tom Reed, and Kent Davies.
Gordy Krause will head a memorial service that will be held in June at the church in Haddonfield that was founded by Whit’s great-grandfather.
So, “Good-bye” dear friend. Thanks for the memories.
George Chien
