Posted by W. Michael Bryant on January 18, 2004:

I am so sad. It's odd that learning now of Busill Tully's death 34 after the fact should affect me so. No doubt, that he died in Viet Nam contributes. I guess I wasn't (was?) too far away when Tully died in 1969. I was a general surgeon at Clark Air Base in the Philippines 1968-1970. Tully, Ron Miller and I were room mates at Braden's Prep School in Cornwall-on-Hudson just north of West Point 1953-1954. Tully and I wanted to attend USMA (I couldn't see well enough.) while Ron was headed for the first class at the new Air Force Academy. The Braden's experience was terrific. We all worked hard toward a common goal, but we had plenty of time for fun and mischief. Tully was usually in the midst of the latter. Of the many Braden's stories that I have retold over the years this one reminds me of Busill Tully and the cameraderie that I am sure he engendered at the Academy and beyond. The three of us shared a large corner room on the second floor of the small school which had once been a grand residence overlooking the Hudson River. Outside and just below our windows was the roof over the large front porch. An especially attractive feature of our room was a huge walk-in closet. This closet was the envy of the school - not because of its original purpose but rather because it became an after hours recreation facility. Ten o'clock lights out was rigidly enforced by Lt. Sullivan, the headmaster whose quarters were just across the hall. Before long we three would convene in the closet after lights out. At first we simply relished the freedom. Later, refreshments were added. Then one evening Tully and Ron broke out a couple quart bottles of beer to go along with the chips. At age 18 they were "legal"; I was a mere 16, but willing to share. Because of lights out, we dared not go past Sully's room to get to the head. How could all three of us credibly declare an emergency sufficient to pass a challenge? But nature called. Urgently. Busill led the way. He simply opened a window and voila. Problem solved. Problem solved, at least until one morning in late November. Outside our window, glistening in the clear crisp morning light was a large sheet of yellow ice. Panic time. Every morning during the first class, Lt. Sullivan inspected the rooms. There could be some serious demerits in our immediate future. Once again, a cooler head (not mine) took charge. "Let's pull down the shades and hope Sully doesn't raise them." Saved again. I was learning a lot from these older guys. Thanks, Tully.

admin