Kindness Pays Off

Thanks for the superb article about Old Army Lou in the fall 2019 issue of Spirit magazine. What a fine man—a dedicated, die-hard Aggie and humanitarian supreme.

My most memorable experience with Lou occurred during my freshman year in the Corps of Cadets in 1965. Three of my fish buddies and I went out “on the town” cruising the streets of College Station and Bryan. We were 18 years old and consuming illicitly-obtained beer. Having had an excess, we stopped in a parking lot and relieved ourselves. We were arrested for public lewdness (or some such misdemeanor) and minor possession and taken to the police station for formal booking. Our bail was set at $50 each. None of us had bail money.

One of the guys’ fathers could have pulled some strings to have this taken care of, but he was not about to call him. We resorted to calling Lou, probably around 1 or 2 a.m. He came immediately, greeted us like we were his sons and posted all our bonds. When asked about paying him back, he told us just to pay him back when we could. The amount didn’t matter to him; he was just helping young Aggies. We never heard from local police again, and we all paid Lou back within the month with profuse thanks.

May this fine man rest in peace, hopefully knowing that he gratuitously helped so many young people. 

Boots and Benevolence

I just read the article about Old Army Lou in the fall 2019 edition of Spirit, so I thought I would relate the following story.

I am in the Class of 1970 as one of the first group of civilian students at Texas A&M; however, I was drafted at graduation in May 1970, so I joined the two-year AFROTC program at Texas A&M as a graduate student. Not many people know about that program, but it allows one to join the Corps of Cadets as a “Frog Sergebutt,” a rather unusual situation. We signed a contract to be in the Air Force, just as a normal junior would, but we were academically graduate students.

When I became a senior in the Corps (my second year in graduate school), there was a minor controversy within Squadron 13 as to whether I could wear senior boots or not. On one side of the argument was the fact that I had never been a true “Fish,” so I should not be able to wear them, while the other side of the argument said that I had already been at Texas A&M for more than five years and graduated with a bachelor’s degree, so I deserved to wear the boots. Our commanding officer, John Souders ’71, won the argument. Therefore, I needed some senior boots, fast.

One day, while in Loupot’s looking for a physics book, I saw a big pile of odd-size senior boots on the floor. They were mostly very small or very large, with a sign that read “$25 a pair.” Since I wear size 13+ shoes, I did not think I would find any that fit. However, I did find a pair I could almost wear, and about that time Lou came up to me. He told me I could probably get them slightly adjusted down the street at Victor’s or Holick’s, but he thought they might be worth more than $25. I said, “Look at that sign,” so he immediately smiled and said they were mine for $25!

As a graduate student, I was already stressed out for money, so I borrowed boot pants and spurs, etc. from guys in my outfit, and enjoyed wearing those boots during my senior year in the Corps. I now plan on donating them to the Corps of Cadets Center Boot Loan Program so someone else can use them. (Note: Those boots were previously worn by A.D. Chase ’60.)

Old Army Lou was a great guy. I saved a lot of money purchasing and selling used books at Lou’s, as well as jewelry for my mom and girlfriend. (P.S. My now-wife, Linda Kay, was my date to the 1968 Cotton Bowl, in which the Aggies beat Alabama. It was our first date!)

Gig ’em!