USAFA Class Heritage Class of 1963

OBITUARY:  

Colonel Richard “Dick” Olsen Troy, U.S. Air Force retired, born April 1, 1941, in Towanda, PA., died March 15, 2025 at the University of Pennsylvania Medical Center due to coronary heart disease.

He was the son of the late Constantine Timothy and Julia Elizabeth Gaylord Troy of Wyomissing, PA. A 1963 graduate of the fifth class to graduate from the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, he later earned a Masters of Public Administration from Auburn University and a Masters of Business Administration from Mount Saint Mary’s College, Emmitsburg, MD.

His Air Force career of 28 years included service as an RF-4C pilot during the Vietnam War. Stationed in Thailand, he flew 70 unarmed reconnaisance missions over North Vietnam. His military awards included the Legion of Merit, the Distinguished Flying Cross with Valor device, and seven Air Medals. He retired from the Air Force in 1991 at Carlisle Barracks, having served on the faculty of the U.S. Army War College.

He later worked for the Pennsylvania State Senate.

Richard was a long-time member of the Carlisle Flying Club, serving 28 years as safety officer. Survivors include his wife Carol Ellen Troy; a son, Timothy William Troy of Frederick,MD; a daughter Shannon, wife of James Ervin of Eagle River, Alaska; four grandchildren, Ryleigh, Rhiannon, Rhema, and Ronan Ervin, brother Jack Troy of Huntingdon, PA and nephew Gavin Troy of Tucson, Arizona. He is preceded in death by his niece Holly Troy.  

35th Reunion (1998): For me, there was only one downside to our 30th reunion. At the Antlers, I thought I recognized a classmate by the back of his head. I came up with a smart remark and approached him. I was wrong: it was someone else. I then remembered that the friend I thought I’d recognized had died years before. It makes no difference now what classmate it was; I made the mistake, and I still think about it. Intervening years disappear at reunions. You pick up where you left off the last time you saw your classmates. It will be the same in ‘98 and in reunions to follow. More frequently, we’ll look for someone, them remember he’s gone. We know that thirty-five years from now, as our last classmates are wheeled out at Homecoming, Shawls flapping in the breeze, they’ll be thinking of the rest of us. Soon after, the Class of ‘63 will be no more. Who’! think of us then? When my mother passed away last year, my brothers and I closed the family home. In the attic, we found our great grand father’s Civil War discharge papers “for wounds suffered” in 1862. At 22, he had served in the 141st Pennsylvania Volunteers. There were no other records. We know nothing of his comrades and their shared experiences. When he recovered from his wounds, he returned to farming and raised his family. Surely, the Civil War was his life’s signal event. A war was a signal event in our lives too. Whether or not we took part, the Vietnam experience colored our lives. At the same time, each of us, in his own way, “returned to farming and raised his family.” My own career spanned 28 years, highlighted by a year in Vietnam and ten years in Europe. I retired from the faculty of the Army War College in 1991. For six years, I’ve supervised the staff of a Pennsylvania State senator. Carol is a director with Mary Kay. Tim and Shannon have graduated from college and embarked on their own lives. Like me, each classmate has followed his own path since 1963. The only thing we all share are the four years that bonded us as a class. Back then, we never considered that our time together would give firm, common ground for life. Those four years are worth remembering. Perhaps in 2063, in another attic, other great-grandchildren will find a worn, brown and yellow 1963 Polaris, next to a less musty sequel from 1998. I’m telling them now to pause in their melancholy chore and know that the Class of 1963 was a touchstone in our lives. Don’t forget us.