RIP, Captain Wade Wilkenson

My friend Wade Wilkenson has died.  He was the kindest and gentlest man I ever met in the Navy.  In the Summer of 2006, I relinquished command on a Friday and had my hip replaced the following Tuesday.  Two weeks later, I needed to be ambulatory enough to go to the Joint Forces Staff College, but I couldn't drive or get myself around.  I called Wade, who was going to be in my class, and asked him if he'd live with me (rather than in the BOQ) while we went to school--and if he would drive me around.  He didn't hesitate to say yes.

There is a special place in heaven for Wade, a man who took such pride in his daughters, and who loved the Navy with all he had.  He was the most relentlessly upbeat guy I served with, including during the time he was Joe Sestak's front office guy. 

Our Navy and our world is diminished. 


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden