Theodore Scott Westhusing,  born November 17, 1960 in Dallas, TX, entered the United States  Military Academy from Jenks, OK in the summer of 1979. As a plebe, Ted  was lean and lanky; quiet yet observant. If you didn’t know better, you  might think he didn’t know or care what was going on around him, but  you’d be wrong. Gifted with amazing physical and mental talents, Ted’s  favorite pastimes (other than studying—a true star man!) were listening  to music, playing basketball, and playing devil’s advocate. He loved  music; if we heard him listen to “Smoky Mountain Rain” once, we heard it  a thousand times. A shooting guard, he helped lead the F-1 team twice  to a Brigade Intramural Championship. As devil’s advocate, he forced us  all to examine our thinking by taking a contrary position, regardless of  what he actually believed.

Held in high esteem by all, Ted was  elected to represent our company on the Cadet Honor Committee. Ted’s  incredible integrity and strong character were readily visible to  everyone he met. While an exchange cadet at the Air Force Academy, his  peers on the Honor Committee selected him as chairman, the only cadet  captain position selected by cadets.

Graduating third overall in our  class, highest of all cadets with physics as an area of study, he was  the first infantryman to select his assignment and chose the coveted  Airborne Battalion Combat Team (ABCT) in Vicenza, Italy.

Ted studied  Russian as a cadet and nearly caused an international incident when the  ABCT went to Berlin for training. He spoke to East German guards manning  a checkpoint, extolling the virtues of freedom and democracy over  communism. His soldiers spoke proudly of “their LT” who had the guts to  tell armed guards, in Russian no less, that they were on the losing  side.

Ted wasn’t able to attend a classmate’s wedding in the United  States in June 1984, but his sponsor, Lieutenant Colonel Mike Montie  did. Montie wrote Ted about a young woman he met at the reception:  Michelle Sparks of Memphis: “I’ve just met the woman you should marry.  Write to her.” Ted did and a romance ensued. We knew it was serious when  Ted deployed to Honduras for six months and left her his Italian sports  car. They married at Fort Bragg, NC in 1989 and had three incredible  children.

As a company commander in the 82nd Airborne Division, Ted  was an innovative trainer. Long before anyone talked about functional  fitness, Ted had his company doing the things that mattered in  developing real strength and a fighting spirit in his paratroopers. One  morning, as they were running along Ardennes Street, Ted came upon a low  building he thought would be a perfect obstacle course. He led his 100  soldiers up the side, across the roof and down again. A huge dust-up  ensued: this was the Division Education Center. The civilians inside  were administering a written test and thought they were under attack or  feared that the roof would cave in. His battalion commander, Lieutenant  Colonel (eventually General) D.K. McNeill, disappointed those at the Ed  Center that might have hoped for severe punishment. He gave Ted a slap  on the wrist and a pat on the back for his motivational leadership.

Beyond  his family and the Army, Ted loved cycling, a sport he began in Italy.  As with all his passions, Ted was all-in. He rode his custom-made  Italian bike in the Dolomites of Italy, the Fort Bragg training area,  and the Hudson Highlands in fair weather or foul. It wasn’t unusual for  him to log 300 miles or more in a week. As a sign of his generosity and  to fuel his need to ride, Ted became the officer representative of the  Cadet Cycling Team while he served as faculty at USMA in the mid-1990s.

Preordained  to teach physics, Ted decided that philosophy was more in line with his  instincts to challenge his own and others’ thinking. He studied Ancient  Greek and could recommend the best translations of the classics  (Lombardo’s Iliad and Fagles’ The Odyssey). In 2005, during his second  tour teaching philosophy at West Point, Ted volunteered to serve in  Iraq. He felt compelled to see for himself the application of violence  and ethics that he knew so well in theory. He thought this was essential  for his ability, and perhaps his credibility, to instruct cadets who  were destined for service in Iraq or Afghanistan. Ted didn’t need a  combat tour to know what was just or unjust; he’d spent his adult life  studying questions of war and morality. But Ted Westhusing was a role  model, a leader, and an Infantryman. He felt a duty to serve in combat,  instead of staying safely ensconced at West Point. The struggle between  Athens (academics) and Sparta (military) is legendary at the Military  Academy, but, if there were ever a graduate who could find balance  between these two ideals, it was Ted. 

When he died on June 5, 2005,  Colonel Ted Westhusing was the highest-ranking soldier killed in the war  at that time. He left all us asking questions of how and why but never  questioning his love of family, friends, Army, and country. His daughter  Sarah is a beautiful singer, manifesting Ted’s love of music, and she  has given him a grandson named Teddy. His sons, Aaron and Anthony, are  excellent basketball players, manifesting Ted’s love of that game and  competing at the collegiate level. Buried in the West Point Cemetery, he  is now and forever part of the landscape of monuments to Duty, Honor,  and Country.
— Michael P. Lerario, classmate