[Congressional Record Volume 142, Number 103 (Friday, July 12, 1996)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1271-E1272]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                       A FEW INCHES FROM THE YARD

                                 ______
                                 

                        HON. ANDREW JACOBS, JR.

                               of Indiana

                    in the house of representatives

                         Friday, July 12, 1996

  Mr. JACOBS. Mr. Speaker, this Annapolis column, ``A Few Inches From 
the Yard,'' has been written by the great naval son of a great naval 
father, Jim Holds.
  Both men make us proud to be Americans.

                       A Few Inches From the Yard

                  (By Midshipman Tony Holds, USN '97)

       It's that time again. Another year has come and gone, and 
     we, the Class of 1997, have finally assumed the watch. My 
     name is Midshipman Tony Holds and for the next year I will be 
     your connection to the Brigade of Midshipmen. I take this 
     position very seriously, and hope that if any of you ever 
     have any input or feedback for me, you will feel free to drop 
     me a note and let me know.
       I guess the first order of business should be to tell you a 
     little bit about myself. I grew up in a Navy family. My 
     mother and father met when she was a PAO for a squadron at 
     Miramar and he was riding backseat in F-4's with VF-142 on 
     that same base. Dad graduated from the Boat School in 1959, 
     and throughout my childhood, images of the Naval Academy were 
     omnipresent in our home. There was a stuffed Bill the Goat 
     staring sternly down at me from the top of my chest of 
     drawers, overseeing the various stages of my young life. 
     Threadbare whiteworks and musty-smelling flight suits filled 
     my toy box. I pored frequently over my Dad's yearbooks with 
     reverent awe and, once I began to read, paged through every 
     issue of Proceedings and Shipmate he would receive in the 
     mail.
       The one column that always most fascinated me was ``A Few 
     Inches from the Yard'', because it seemed the best place to 
     get the straight scoop on the pulse of the Brigade. Dad was 
     full of stories of the Hall, some probably embellished by 
     years of separation from the events in question. This column, 
     however, represented an opportunity to hear what was going on 
     in the Hall from an unbiased source: someone whose 
     perspective was in-your-face and based on the day-to-day 
     realities of life in Mother B; and here I am, years later, 
     honored and humbled to be that voice for you. Wow.
       That is not all, though. Here, in my first ever column, I 
     come to you with a dual purpose. Approximately a month ago, 
     when I received word that I was to be this year's writer for 
     ``A Few Inches from the Yard'', I envisioned my first article 
     as an opportunity to compose a pleasantly uneventful 
     introduction in which I would tell you some anecdotes about 
     myself, life in the Hall as we prepare to welcome the class 
     of Plebes that will

[[Page E1272]]

     lead us into the next millennium, and so on. I was hoping to 
     just leave a good taste in your mouth and set the stage for 
     future articles of more substance. Well, you know what they 
     say about the best laid plans of mice and men. It appears my 
     first article is going to be more than what I expected.
       As you know, a dark cloud is hovering over the Naval 
     Academy right now. Some of the recent happenings here, which 
     I'm sure you've been made abundantly aware of by the media, 
     are not things we, as Midshipmen are proud of. In fact, we 
     can hardly believe what is going on. We are making the paper 
     and the nightly news much too often for all the wrong 
     reasons. There seems to be a general sense of crisis amongst 
     administration, faculty, and Midshipmen alike. Every last 
     person I know is scratching their head and struggling to 
     fathom what could lead members of the Brigade to conduct 
     themselves so disgracefully. I am sure this sentiment of 
     disbelief and disappointment is echoed resoundingly in the 
     minds of Alumni everywhere.
       The bottom line that must be kept in the front of our 
     minds, though, is this: Yes, these events are shocking, yes, 
     they are damaging to us as an institution, but in no way are 
     they indicative of what we, the Brigade, represent. They are 
     nothing more than infuriating, high-profile aberrations. My 
     point? Now, more than ever, is when we need the support of 
     our Alumni. It would be tempting, if you were led to believe 
     that these happenings reflected the character of the Brigade 
     as a whole, to abandon ship on us, but you must not. Right 
     now, there are thousands of Midshipmen who are just like you 
     were when you called the confines of Mother B home. We are 
     worthy of your support and trust. The times we live in are 
     different--that's true, but there is a grand universality to 
     many portions of the experience by which we all, young and 
     old, are inextricably bound together--the Annapolis 
     experience. My desire is to communicate to you, our 
     predecessors, that although we live in different times, 
     people never truly change. All but a profound minority of us 
     espouse the same ideals, harbor the same hopes, and are 
     haunted by the same fears that most of you had as young men 
     and women attending this school. We are here for love of 
     country and a desire to serve. With an exerted show of 
     solidarity, we can all help to quiet those who would like to 
     end or severely break down 150 years of tradition based on a 
     random outbreak of isolated incidents. There are, admittedly, 
     those who like to see this happen. They are banking on the 
     assumption that we, the Naval Academy family, can be divided. 
     Don't let that happen. Hang on tight and ride out the storm 
     with us, better days are ahead.
       On a final, brighter note, a hearty congratulations to the 
     Class of 1996 for completing a grueling four years and 
     winning the prize. Best of luck in the fleet; make us proud!
       That's all I have for this month, but I'll be back keeping 
     you apprised of the latest gouge in the next issue. Until 
     then, fair winds and following seas.

                          ____________________