Thanks Again, Professor Guilmartin

by David Potash Published Leave a comment

A few years ago, after finding a copy of my college transcript in a box of papers, I sent notes of thanks to the undergraduate professors who made a difference. Many teachers have helped me over the years and I am increasingly aware of just how much they have mattered.

It is fascinating just how intense, brief, and yet bounded interactions between teacher and student can be. We teach a course, advise a student, write a letter of introduction or reference, but what happens to that student? We rarely find out. From the student’s perspective, it is often only over time and through reflection that we realize how a particular teacher or course has influenced our thinking. Or decisions. My professional and personal successes, as they are, in due to the generosity and consideration of so many. A short email of thanks is a simple thing.

It turned out to be a very positive exercise. I heard back from many of my old professors, sparking memories and reflection, as well as more than a few smiles.

Recently I learned that one of those professors passed away. I want to take this opportunity to thank him publicly and share a bit about what a great teacher – and person – he was.

The Ohio State University history Professor John F. “Joe” Guilmartin Jr. died in 2016. He was a retired Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force, and back in the 1980s, while he was serving as a director of the NASA Space Shuttle history program, he was a professor at Rice University. I took his class on Aeronautics and Military History in the twentieth century. It was beyond fantastic. But before the class, more about Professor Guilmartin. 

Guilmartin’s interest in airplanes was started by his father, who flew and taught pilots. He attended the Air Force Academy, earned an engineering degree (he loved talking about engineering), and began a long career in the military. Professor Guilmartin’s first posting was flying rescue helicopters in Vietnam in the 1960s. He then took advantage of an educational opportunity to leave Southeast Asia for the wilds of New Jersey, working toward a PhD in history at Princeton University. At Rice, Guilmartin talked about the cultural shock of navigating the multiple worlds: research academia, anti-war college life, the Air Force, and serving in a military theater. He remained in the military through the 1970s, teaching  history at the Air Force Academy. Guilmartin volunteered to assist in the evacuation of the U.S. Embassy in Saigon. Those famous photos of Americans and their supporters fleeing to helicopters as the embassy in Saigon fell? That’s Professor Guilmartin’s piloting.
Professor Guilmartin never talked about his service record. Later I learned that he was awarded the Legion of Merit, two Silver Stars and the Air Medal with five oak clusters.
Following Rice, he found a long-term home at the Ohio State University. According to his obituary and the many tributes on the web, he was an influential and loved figure at OSU, advising many, writing well-received books and papers, and garnering awards and prizes. Professor Guilmartin was recipient of the Goodpaster Prize, given by the American Veteran’s Institute and the Lynde and Harry Bradley Foundation as an outstanding soldier-scholar. He also took the time to keep up correspondence with old students, like yours truly.
As for his course at Rice, it was an extraordinary mixture of philosophy, history, technology, economics, and creativity. We read Clausewitz and fine-grained journal articles on how technology advances (flush rivets in airplane manufacture,). We learned about wing-loading, plywood bending, and the origins of jet propulsion. Guilmartin explained the tight relationship between the military and technology, as well as the massive influence the military has on economics and politics. We studied the US’s wars in the twentieth century (up to Vietnam), the growth of the domestic airline industry, and the many ways that aviation has reshaped people’s relationship with distance and each other. Guilmartin was able to move from big picture to small to mid-size and back again, weaving ways of understanding extraordinarily complex phenomena.
He was also extraordinarily generous with his time and thinking. Professor Guilmartin was genuine and truly a mentor. He would talk before class, after class, in his office, and at the Rice pub. On more than one occasion we would continue class discussions over a beer or two.
Thank you, Professor Guilmartin, for so much. It’s been an honor.
David Potash

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