Wilfred J. Lavigne
It is always difficult in a short item like this to do justice to a grand person like
Chip Lavigne.
But if I had only one sentence in which to summarize his personality
and to express his code of living, I would say that he evaluated people
for what they were; he tried with warmth and sympathy to understand them
better; and he based his friendships on intrinsic values rather than on
an individual’s station in life. He was equally at home at a bull
session with a barracks policeman in the 17th division “sinks” or in the
Superintendent’s quarters where we frequently went with Bill Smith for
Saturday night dinner. He had a keen and infectious sense of humor that
carried him through any situation—as By Paige expressed it very simply
when we were still cadets: “It was too bad that everyone couldn’t be
Lavigne’s roommate. I knew what he meant because I was Chip’s roommate
at the time.
By any standards, Chip had pretty tough breaks over the years, but Chip
wasn’t one to reveal them. I didn’t realize the extent of them myself
until months after his death when I had occasion to talk at length with
Betty and their son Jimmy in connection with the preparation of this
memorial.
Chip was bom on 9 April 1908, at Hancock, Michigan, in the upper
peninsula, of French-Canadian stock. He was a distant relative of Kid
Lavigne, one-time lightweight boxing champion who also came from that
section of Michigan. Enlarging on his family tree, Chip loved to tell
with wry humor how he expected some day to inherit part of Montreal.
History has it that Louis XIV granted a tract of land to one Lieutenant
Tessier de la Vigne in recognition of his service, and a plaque on the
Bank of Montreal today attests that the Lavignes first settled on that
spot. Betty still keeps an old newspaper clipping which tells the story
of the 300 heirs who actually instituted legal action and filed suit in
the superior court to the tune of a $1,000,000,000 claim for the land on
which Notre Dame Cathedral, some banks, and several office buildings
now stand. Chip’s typical reaction was compassion for the simple farmers
who sold their land in anticipation of the bonanza, while allowing that
he would continue to work for a living.
When Chip was nine, his father died suddenly after only three days of
illness. From that time on, Chip and two brothers, close to his own age,
helped to take care of their widowed mother for the remainder of her
life.
In 1932 the family moved to Detroit. Three years later Chip graduated
from Southeastern High School and earned a full scholarship to Michigan
Tech. During his year and a half there Chip earned a letter in
basketball, but, in what seemed to be a typical turn of fate for Chip,
the school could not afford to buy the letters.
It was while he was home in Detroit on vacation that Chip was involved
in the very serious automobile accident that turned out to be a
well-disguised blessing for him—and us. He was recovering from his
injuries when he heard about and obtained his appointment to West Point.
At the Academy he was adequately proficient in academics without
threatening any of the existing records, and he made a creditable
showing in the full gamut of intramural athletics. Off duty, he was
equally popular in the poker games after Taps and at the Saturday night
hops with the ladies who found him an attractive, interesting date.
Upon graduation, Chip’s first station was Fort Wayne, Michigan. Like
most of us, he had a long tour of CCC duty in those days of the Great
Depression. Then, along with the majority of the Infantry officers in
our Class, he attended The Infantry School at Fort Benning in 1938-37.
He was part of that group of ’32 which included the present Chairman of
the Joint Chiefs as well as several of the top generals in the Army
today.
Chip and Elizabeth Barbara Stieber of Detroit were married in July 1937
and sailed immediately for Puerto Rico where they spent two interesting
years at Henry Barracks, located in the mountains 30 miles from San
Juan. This was followed by tours with the 3d Infantry at Fort Snelling
and Camp Jackson, South Carolina, just prior to Pearl Harbor.
With all-out mobilization, Chip was selected for key positions and rose
rapidly, first, commanding the 532d Airborne Infantry Battalion,
followed by an assignment with the 12th Armored Group. For the first
time in our careers, promotion was not based on length of service but on
performance in a selected position. It is noteworthy that this former
prototype of the first-class "buck” was promoted to major and lieutenant
colonel well ahead of the majority in our Class.
At this point in his career Chip received his crudest blow: he was
found to be a diabetic and was retired for physical disability with
immediate recall to limited active service. This was always Chip’s
greatest regret, not the malady, which he dominated and lived with for
the next 21 years, but the fact that it prevented him from going
overseas where he felt he was needed most. Despite periodic trips to the
hospital, he continued on active duty with various units in the States,
attained the rank of full colonel, and was awarded the Commendation
Ribbon. In June of 1946 he retired permanently from the Service and
began his career as a civilian.
During the next three years he attended Colorado College and the
University of Miami, taking all of the psychology courses available with
a view toward applying them in his area of primary interest: personnel
administration. In the summer of 1949 he returned to his native Detroit
where he attended Wayne State for more psychology courses and remained
there permanently to help take care of his mother in her final years.
For 11 years he was a bank examiner in the Michigan State Banking
Department, resigning in the spring of 1963 when his office was moved to
another city. He then joined a real estate firm. Just about this time
he received another severe jolt. An operation for a detached retina was
unsuccessful, and he lost the sight of one eye completely, with the
added threat that he might lose the other. Again, he did not let it get
him down and continued on his job. When I saw him 18 months later, I
would not have known about his condition had I not heard about it
beforehand.
On 30 October 1965, Chip was aware of an uncomfortable sensation, but
he attended his regular Saturday night poker session as usual. He
telephoned the doctor the following day, and when he visited him on
Monday, he was hospitalized immediately on the basis of a serious
cardiogram. That same night he suffered a massive coronary attack in the
hospital, and his condition was critical. He received the best of
medical care, however, and two weeks later was moving around so well
that the doctor said he could go home in a few days. One hour later he
suffered another massive attack, and it was all over.
The three classmates and wives then in Detroit, the Hartshorns,
Garrisons, and Zitzmans, attended the funeral services, and a floral
piece from the Class of '32 with black, gold, and gray ribbons had been
arranged. Betty received all the help she needed in connection with
Chip’s military service, particularly from John Pugh who was then
commanding general of VI Corps in Battle Creek. Through it all and
after, Betty met all of her responsibilities with her chin up and like
the lady she is. She and son Jimmy have since moved from St. Clair
Shores into a comfortable little house in Detroit proper, where I saw
them last during a long Sunday afternoon visit.
Jimmy, a tall, good-looking boy at 21 who attended our 25th and 30th
Reunions at West Point with Chip, will graduate from the University of
Detroit this spring and plans to go on to law school. In addition to all
of his own responsibilities, Jimmy administers and coaches a basketball
team in a program for young boys in Michigan.
As I come to the end of this memorial, I am looking again at a statement in Chip’s biography in the 1932
Howitzer
which I wrote 35 years ago: "This representative of Michigan is a man
who lives strictly by his own set of principles as to right and
wrong...” I think we can safely say now that they were a pretty good set
of principles.
—Ken Zitzman, ’32
Source http://apps.westpointaog.org/Memorials/Article/9549/
TESSIER dit LAVIGNE