In Loving Memory Of Pat Patterson '25 and Homer Hunter '25

By Fred Hunter '59
(Thank you to John Patterson '62 for sharing this with the Aggie Network)

August 12, 2002

There I was at fifty plus years old and feeling like a kid meeting his favorite football player… wide-eyed, eager with anticipation. Then Dad introduced me to his friend of over seventy years and Aggie roommate, Pat Patterson. What an exhilaration feeling swept over me upon meeting an individual about whom Dad had spoken throughout my life using only superlatives.

When I was in high school and thinking seriously about which college to attend (as if I really had any choice in the matter), Dad constantly regaled me with fascinating stories about the Aggie Band, Pat Patterson, and L.A. “Bick” Bickel (who was the third man in their room). The tables invariably revolved around Pat. Even at my age then, I sensed there was some sort of very special, and almost sacred, relationship between Pat and Dad. It was like a religion that I never understood fully until I was in the Band and had the extreme good fortune to find a lifelong friend in my roommate, Travis Roberts. It can’t be explained, you have to be a participant to know what it means.

Dad’s stories about things he and Pat did on and off campus made Pat an icon as far as I was concerned. Drum major, buddy, confidant, engineer – those were some of the terms Dad used to describe Pat. When I first met him, he was already larger than life. (Upon reflection, the glowing terms Dad used to describe Pat probably influenced me to try out for drum major my senior year at A&M.) When I was introduced to Pat in person, it was with a little surprise that I was confronted with this average sized individual, soft spoken, but with a firm handshake like very few men I have ever met. While his physical size may have been average nothing else about him was, his eyes danced and sparks of enthusiasm flew from them when he spoke – especially when the subject was Texas A&M. I knew immediately why Dad has been attracted to him because I felt the same magnetism. It was a feeling that transcends words.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to find a terse phrase to describe Pat and Dad. I do recall, however, a plaque under a statue on the A&M campus. The statue is that of Lawrence Sullivan Ross, Governor of Texas, General – Confederate States of America, and President of The A&M College of Texas. The plaque describes “Sully” as a “Soldier, Statesman, Knightly Gentleman.” If nothing else, the last term can quite aptly be applied to both Pat and Dad. They were and are, indeed, knightly gentlemen, truly representing the entire panoply of high ideals that term engenders.

We recognize our earthly physical relationships can do end at some time. I am firmly convinced, however, those relationships continue even when individuals about whom we care the most are no longer physically present with us. Their lessons, their humor, their personality, their very life itself, their beliefs, their friendship, and their love do not leave us – their very essence remains with us and, through us, with our descendants. Men of the stature of Pat Patterson and Homer Hunter establish the benchmark for living to which we all should aspire. If we are very, very quiet and listen intently they still speak to us.

When the final roll is called for Aggies in heaven, the finest drum major ever to lead the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Band (and we all know who that is) will shout “Band, fall in” and then give the command “Recall, step off on H u l l a b a l o o o o o o o o.” When that moment occurs, I hope I am in the cornet section marching side by side with my Dad, following Pat up front. After all, it’s just another Corps Trip and the Corps of Cadets will fall in behind the Band. What a glorious day that will be.