So Long, Ty

When TigerBlog was stuck on the Major Deegan Expressway the other day, he began to wonder something that he had never considered in the previous 1,000 or so times he'd been stuck on that particular highway. Who, exactly, was Major Deegan?

Turns out he wasn't exactly a towering military figure. He was more of a mid-level bureaucrat type who had the right friends.

TigerBlog also used to hear all the time that the Lincoln Tunnel wasn't named for Abraham Lincoln but rather was named after the engineer who designed it. This, it turns out, is incorrect.

In West Philadelphia there is a building called Irvine Auditorium, where as a student TigerBlog saw concerts by, among others, the Go-Go's, the Hooters and Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. As an aside, if you're a fan of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band and haven't listened to Southside, make sure you do.

Anyway, legend had it that Irvine Auditorium, a somewhat oddly structured building, was named for an architecture student who had created the original design for a project and had received an F. Years later, after a successful career, the architect donated the money to the school to build the facility, on the condition that his failed design be used.

Turns out that's not true either. And there really is no mention of who Irvine was.

There are so many places that are named for people that you rarely stop to think of who they were. The top award given each year by the Princeton men's basketball team is its Benjamin Franklin Bunn Award. TigerBlog was at a banquet once where Pete Carril, prior to giving out the award, basically said this:
"Nobody knows who Benjamin Franklin Bunn was, but this award is special not because of its name but because of the people who have won it."

The reality is that B.F. Bunn was a member of the Class of 1907 and the longtime timekeeper at Princeton basketball, as well as the manager of the U-Store for 40 years.

The point is that Carril wasn't quite right on this one. What makes the award special IS who won it, but that doesn't mean that its namesake should be forgotten.

For anyone who has ever parked in Lot 21 at Princeton (the one next to the football stadium, Jadwin, DeNunzio Pool and Caldwell Fieldhouse), you might have noticed the fields to your right as your face the facilities.

The second one in from the stadium is called Campbell Field and has been since 1962. How many people parking in Lot 21 know this? How many who know that it's Campbell Field know who Campbell was?

TigerBlog addressed this subject superficially two months ago, when Campbell Field and Finney Field (the one closest to the football stadium) underwent a transition from grass to FieldTurf. From that minimal research, TB found out that the field was named for Tyler Campbell of the Class of 1943, a lacrosse Hall-of-Famer who was killed in World War II. That's all TB really knew.

Since then, TigerBlog has spoken to other members of the Campbell family and people from Princeton who knew him and read letters written by Campbell and about Campbell after his death, and TB has learned almost everything there is to know about Tyler Campbell.

The short of it is that Campbell - who looked something like Hobey Baker - was a chemical engineering student from Baltimore who played 150-pound football, hockey and lacrosse at Princeton. He was president of his freshman class and then re-elected to the position. He left school early to join the Army, eventually attending Officer's Training School before being deployed to World War II.

After originally having a desk position, Campbell volunteered for combat, and he would ultimately be part of four landings in Italy and France. He'd be wounded twice and earn three major commendations, a Bronze Star, a Silver Star and an Oak Leaf Cluster to a Bronze Star Medal. Finally, on Sept. 21, 1944, Campbell was killed in action at the age of 22.

It was haunting to read a letter Campbell wrote to his brother Mac (Princeton Class of 1948 and at the time an ambulance driver in Italy) three days before his death. TigerBlog could picture him on a hillside in Southern France, stopping to take the time to write to his brother. From his own words, Campbell hardly seems like a person who felt like he was about to die; instead, he comes across as someone who wasn't even considering it. He spoke of the future, of the job to do, of the experience itself.

And then he signed it. "So long, Ty," was what he wrote.

TigerBlog also read letters written by a general and a corporal about Campbell after his death and a sermon delivered by his freshman and sophomore year roommate at Princeton nearly 14 years later. He spoke to members of the Classes of 1942 and 1943.

And then TB tried to sum him up in fewer than 2,500 words.

Gary Walters stopped by this morning and mentioned that he was going to a St. Patrick's Day party tonight (yes, it's not St. Patrick's Day yet) that will be hosted by the McCarthy family. The elder McCarthy, Jack Sr., was also in the Class of 1943.

Jack Sr. is a World War II vet who was part of five major battles. He too was wounded and decorated in combat.

Today, as he closes in on 90 years old, Jack is still a regular at Princeton games, at St. Patrick's Day parties, at family gatherings. Tyler Campbell never had the chance at any of that.

Why is that? It seems so random. TB finds himself wondering what Tyler Campbell might have accomplished had he lived. There was talk that he might have entered the priesthood. Or maybe he would have run the family business in Baltimore. Or maybe politics?

And who knows what he might have accomplished. By every indication, he was headed for greatness. And then, it was all gone.

TigerBlog will never look at Campbell Field the same way again.