THE WINDS OF CHANGE hanging on for dear life. Everybody in the club cheered and howled with laughter. “Then he stopped, set her gently down, smiled and bowed, got his coat and went to his seat to a standing ovation from everybody there. “The following morning, Rusty showed up bright and cheerful at a church to which, by previous arrangement, he had been invited to give the sermon as guest minister. “At the conclusion of the services, Rusty was at the door to shake hands with the members of the congregation as they left the church. All the folks thanked him and said they appreciated the wonderful sermon. “One fellow came along, shook Rusty’s hand enthusiastically and said, ‘Well, Reverend Callow, I’m very impressed by the breadth of your talents. I don’t know which you do better: give a sermon or teach show girls how to dance!’ The Penn Years Von Wrangell: “In the immediate postwar years, about all Rusty could expect his Penn crews to do was perhaps to lead the field for the first quarter-mile. He would tell his oarsmen: ‘Put everything you’ve got into the start, and get the lead. Then lower the stroke as much as you dare, but stay ahead. Then fight off any crew that tries to challenge you.’ “That described every race his Penn crews rowed. The trouble was his oarsmen weren’t strong enough to pull it off. “In every race Cornell had with Penn, they usually got about a length on us immediately, but by the half-mile we would catch them, then pull ahead and leave them behind. “The Penn oarsmen were good lads, but they simply lacked the power to be serious contenders. They loved their coach and did their best, which is all that oarsmen can be asked to do. “Rusty was always joking and being friendly with the other coaches and oarsmen, but he could never get fired up hoping for victory at Poughkeepsie or even in the various two-mile cup races. “Thus he became just laid back, wanting his crews to do as well as they could, but not expecting much.”2286 The Move to Annapolis Stan Pocock: “[In the fall of 1950,] Buck Walsh on his deathbed begged Rusty to come to Annapolis and produce some winning crews in his memory.”2287 Rusty jumped at the chance to move on from Penn to the unlimited waters and motivated athletes of the United States Naval Academy, but Rusty’s first year at Navy was marked by frustration. Stan Pocock: “The upperclassmen still saw themselves as ‘Buck Walsh’s boys.’ Walsh had been a naval officer, and no mere civilian could hope to fill his shoes.”2288 Rusty got nowhere with them. Nevertheless, after twenty-eight years of coaching and now known as “Old Man River,” the move to Annapolis reinvigorated the 59-year-old Rusty Callow, and it was there that his interpretation of the Conibear Stroke reached its zenith. Rusty Callow had been coach and mentor to Al Ulbrickson and to Tom Bolles, but as his former students were updating the Conibear Stroke, Rusty didn’t follow along, didn’t join them in teaching the 2nd Generation Conibear Stroke. But late in his career at Annapolis, he found his own path to move beyond Conibear. “For Rusty, on the water was every- thing,” remembers Frank Shakespeare, 2286 von Wrangell, op. cit. 2287 S. Pocock, p. 83 2288 Ibid. 635
