Stephen Anthony Rose – 50th Reunion Essay

Stephen Anthony Rose

1364 Wakefield Circle

Virginia Beach, VA2 23455

rosesa47@outlook.com

757-464-2113

Spouse(s): Mary Ellen Rose (1970)

Child(ren): Rebecca (1979), Melissa (1984)

Grandchild(ren): Tyler (2005), Ethan (2008), Cody (2016)

Education: Yale, BA (1969); George Washington, MSA (1974); UVA Law, JD (1977); Naval War College, M.S. (1989)

National Service: US Navy (1969–2000), Captain, JAGC

Career: USN (pilot 1970–’74, JAG Corps 1975–2000); Director, Legal Department (2000–2013) at NATO’s Supreme Allied Command, Transformation with branch offices in Germany, Italy, Belgium, Norway, Poland, and Portugal

Avocations: senior softball; bridge; philately; fishing

College: Silliman

Our 50th is the kind of Brigadoon event that encourages introspection. Time, the greatest thief of all, has stolen away our youth but returned something rich in return—a truer appreciation for the worth of each moment as a chance to grow, connect, and give back. The Indian summer of life should be both sunny and sad, like the season, but infinite in depth of tone, and never rushed.

Anyone making it this far has already had a good run. Our generation has been free to pursue individual destinies in an era of abundance and permissiveness. Bequeathed a great economic and cultural inheritance, we have much to be grateful for but also much to be accountable for.

Hopefully, none of us shares the lament of the Moorish caliph who, nearing the end of his life, confided to his diary: “I have ruled above 50 years, beloved by my subjects, feared by enemies, respected by allies. Riches and honors, power and pleasure, have awaited my call. I have diligently counted the number of days of genuine happiness fallen to my lot: They number 14.” In various degrees, each of us has tangoed with power and pleasure, not on the scale of a caliph, but enough to become occasionally entangled. Hopefully, we have managed all this living and loving with a resolute grace that gives heart to those behind us on the trail.

According to ancient Greece, that will-o-wisp called happiness arises from vital powers being exercised along lines of excellence in a life that affords them scope. We are privileged to be sentient beings on this beautiful planet, able to ponder the eternal questions before us. Yale helped to put a cutting edge on the tools needed to do just that. In one incarnation or another, we are all pilgrims on the road to Canterbury. At our age, it is easier to see beyond the mirage of believing that it matters who arrives first, who sits in the fancy chair during rest stops, or who accumulates the most treasure. The true coin of the realm lies in the adventures we encounter and the friendships we forge along the way.

En route, it helps to cultivate a sense of humor, part Chevy Chase and part cosmic irony. We begin life as poopypants. After education and the school of hard knocks, we become smartypants. If fortunate, we have a career that allows us to be bossypants. Then, in time, we succumb to being droopypants, along the road to becoming once again—you guessed it—poopypants.

We are all visitors here, passing through a great mystery. As part of the run-up to our reunion, I tried to distill some core precepts guiding my life, in fewer than 50 words: Life is a gift, to be celebrated and enjoyed. Love is sacred, to be cherished and nurtured. Existence is simple in its primary demand: We must serve one another with loving kindness. Some entity beyond our knowledge is out there. Be thankful. Be thoughtful. Be thankful.