William
Pace
‘Bill’
Purdue
was
born
on
April
27,
1932
at Schofield
Barracks,
Oahu,
HI
to
Captain
Branner
Pace
and
Carolyn
Purdue. The
Army
community
knew
Bill
as
a
skinny
youngster,
unaware
that
he
would grow
into
a 6-foot,
1-inch
cadet
at
West
Point.
By
high
school,
he
proved
to
be
an
outstanding
athlete,
a
star
track
man
running
the
high
hurdles
and
the
quarter
mile.
He
was
an
excellent
student
as well
and
received
an
appointment
to
West
Point
in
1950
from the
state
of
Arkansas.
Bill’s
life
as
an
Army
brat prepared
him
for
the
rigors
of
the
Academy,
and
he
was
one
of
those
cadets
who
seemed
unfazed
by
the
system.
Assigned
to
Company B
of
the
First Brigade,
he made
friends
easily
and
was
popular
in the
barracks.
From
the
beginning,
Carlton
Crowell,
the
track
coach,
took
Bill
under
his
wing.
Bill’s
dad,
now
Brigadier
General
Purdue (Class
of
’25),
had
coached track
in the
Army
and
coached
his
son,
as
well. Brigadier
General
Purdue
and
Coach
Crowell
corresponded
regularly
about
Bill’s
development.
By
his
sophomore
year,
Bill
had
become
one
of
the
country’s
premier
high
hurdlers.
He
ran
one
of
his
best
races
in Madison
Square
Garden
in the
60-meter
high
hurdles
as a
yearling.
His
chief
competition
was
the
Olympic
gold
medal
winner
Harrison
Dillard.
It
was a
photo
finish,
a dead heat in record
time;
the
judges
felt
compelled
to
give
first
place
to
the
Olympic
gold
medalist,
but
Bill
had
made
his
mark.
Another
track
memory
was
Bill’s
outstanding
race
in
1952
Army–Navy
meet. Then President
Harry
Truman
and
Brigadier
General
Purdue’s
first
cousin,
Secretary
of
the
Army
Frank
Pace, saw
Bill
win
the
high
hurdles in
an
Army–Navy-meet record time.
The
president
awarded
Bill his
first
place medal with
his
cousin
proudly
looking
on.
After
the
1951
scandal that
saw
most
of
the
varsity
football
team
dismissed,
the
Class
of
’54
was called
on
to
fill
the
gap.
Coach
Red
Blaik
ran
into
Bill
walking
across
the
parade
field
and
asked him
if
he
had
ever
played
football.
Bill’s
answer was,
“No,
sir,
but
I would like
to
try.”
When
Coach
Crowell heard
about
it,
he
confronted
Coach
Blaik:
“You
can’t
have Purdue;
you
are
going
to
ruin
Army’s
All-American
hurdler!” Coach
Blaik
replied,
“He
wants
to
play,
and
he
will.”
And
play
he
did.
Brigadier
General
Purdue
had
developed
cancer
and
was
dying
in the
fall
of
1952.
Bill
visited
him
in
Walter
Reed
Army
Hospital just
before
the
Army
vs.
Penn
football
game.
At the
end
of
the
visit
his
dad
told
him
to
get
out
there
and
play
football.
Bill
was
the
hero
of
the
game,
catching
a short
pass
to
take
the
ball
to
Penn’s
20 yard
line.
On
the
next
play,
he
took
a
pitchout
from the
quarterback
and
sprinted
to
the
end
zone.
There
were
only
44
seconds left in the
game,
sealing
a
victory
for
Army.
A newspaper
article
said,
“Purdue
had
something
besides
blazing
speed
to
recommend
him.
It
is that
certain
spark
plus
an
intangible ability
to
make
the
right
move
at the
right
time.”
Those
who
knew
Bill
may
have
wondered
how
a young
man—strong,
healthy,
and
full
of
life—and
a
non-smoker
could
have
died
of
complications
due
to
lung
cancer
at
the
age
of
25.
His
sister
Lynsey
provides
the
following
story.
“In
early
1942
our father
received
orders
to
Camp
Hood,
TX.
We
rented
a house
in nearby Temple
across the
street
from a
doctor
and
his
family.
Doc
was a radiologist
who
was
basically
experimenting
with
radiation, a
relatively new
procedure at
that
time.
Bill
had
developed
asthma,
and
Doc treated
Bill’s lungs
with
radiation. He
also
treated
his
son
(who
was
Bill’s
age)
for
asthma
and
his
granddaughter
(who
was
my
age)
in the
pelvic
area
with
radiation at
about
the same
time.
“Later
all
three
would
die
of
cancer
of
the
treated
areas
within
a year or
two of
one
another.
“It
was
a
bitter
blow for
my mother
who, of
course,
held
herself
at
least
partially
responsible.
I
had
the
typical
younger
sister
admiration
for my
brother
and
was
also
devastated.
My
unanswered
question
has
been,
‘
Where
is
he
spending
eternity?"
That
question
was
not
settled
in
my
own
life
until
1984,
when
I
committed
my
life
to
the
Lord.
As
for
Bill,
I do
know
there
was
a
period
in
his
short
life
when
he
was
looking,
and
my hope
is
that
he
arrived
at
that
revelation
sometime
in
the
hours
before
he
breathed
his
last.
“Time
is
moving
on
rapidly,
and
those
classmates
who
are
reading
this
do not
have
many
years
left
here
on
earth.
Jesus
said
that
He
is
the
way,
the
truth,
and
the
life,
and
that
no
man
comes
to
the
Father
except
by
Him.
If
you
have
not done
so, I
pray
you
will
seek
Him
while
He
may
be
found.”
To
close,
Bill
epitomized
the
young
combat
leaders
that
West
Point
graduates
in
every
class.
His
troops
in
the
187th
Airborne
Infantry
at
Fort
Campbell,
KY
respected
and
admired
him
and
placed
a
plaque
in
the
chapel
in
his
memory.
Bill’s
early
death
was
a blow
to
all
who
knew
and
loved
him.
The
Army
was
surely
deprived
of
an
officer
destined
for
the
highest
command
responsibilities.
He
fought
the
cancer
the
way
he
lived
his
life—all
in!
—
Bill
&
Lynsey
Klein
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