Gary Wayne Holman, our beloved H-2 classmate, was killed in a senseless jeep accident on Aug 27, 1959, while he was part of the First Class detail supervising the plebe hike of the Class of 1963. He was an Army Brat who was born in Roswell, NM, on Sep 23, 1936. He was the only child of Lieutenant Colonel and Mrs. Lawrence M. Holman. He graduated from the Berlin American High School where he was active in the Boy Scouts and Junior ROTC. He arrived at West Point in 1956, via a competitive presidential appointment from the United States at large. Gary also attended the U.S. Military Academy Preparatory School, so he was well equipped to handle the rigors of our “rock-bound highland home.” He did so in many cases by simply ignoring them. Throughout his first three years he managed to survive in academics by being consistently in the bottom 150 or so. The only exception was German, which may have been a second language for him.
He was an affable, friendly classmate with a quick and sometimes caustic sense of humor. Gary was sometimes called, “impish” and truthfully there was an impish glee about him. In the presence of those easily impressed by class standing, he would casually remark that he had stood fourth in his high school class. He would then laugh uproariously at the fact that his class had only four members. He was kind, ever tolerant, and fiercely loyal to his friends and devoid of “enemies” (unless one includes here the Academic and Tactical Departments). He seemed to excel at rolling with the punches or outright avoiding them. He was always there; doing what was required, but not a lot more. His joie de vivre came from places well outside the system. He was a trim athletic sort without really working at it. He was an active member of the Cadet Ski Club. He loved speed more than finesse. He was a regular schuss boomer. There was one trail that went straight down the slope with very few turns. He loved that trail and spent most of his time on it. After his accident, several members of the ski club attended his funeral and they decided to call his favorite trail “Holman Run” in his honor. For many years Holman Run appeared on the map of the Victor Constant Ski Slope. Would you believe that Holman Run still exists? It is not for the unskilled or faint of heart as it starts just below the top of the triple ski lift and heads straight downhill for 3,000 feet!
It was away from West Point that the real Gary Holman emerged. His normally subdued behavior gave way to an evanescent personality that lightened up most any activity. Blessed with a great sense of humor, he applied it often when questioning West Point’s established orthodoxy. An openly genuine young man, he detested fawning, pretense, and phoniness. He was a charter member of that small, elite group of H-2ers who sought “extra instruction” in “Night Patrolling” and “Escape and Evasion.” He was a friend to all and not just within the Class of 1960.
Gary would have made an excellent officer, but, alas, we were never to find out. He was killed when his Jeep flipped over at one of the encampments of the plebe hike. It was a sobering lesson for the class. Gary enjoyed a wide following of friends who still lament the waste of a bright young life. Perhaps this was best expressed at the time by the Superintendent, Lieutenant General Garrison H. Davidson ’27, when he wrote, “His unfortunate and untimely death is mourned as a distinct and regrettable loss to all who knew him well.”
— Frank Cloutier and classmates