The Beauty in Remembering: Aggie Muster transcends school tradition

Standing ready. Sawing the horns. Kissing dates.

Once, my knowledge of Texas A&M traditions was limited to those demonstrated at football games.

Not until a career move and relocation to College Station did I become aware of the Aggies’ most sacred and meaningful tradition. Then, I learned about Muster. Then, I experienced the significance of a comrade answering: “Here.”

Like most who did not attend Texas A&M, I had no knowledge of Muster, the annual, worldwide acknowledgement of Aggie lives lost. Surely other colleges across the country have moments to remember those who have perished. But no other university else remembers its fallen like Texas A&M does.

Groups of Aggies gather every April across the world for ceremonies to softly call the muster and answer for those who are departed. Some of the ceremonies are relaxed barbecues. Some are formal dinners. All are rites of remembrance.

Frankly, isn’t life ultimately a collection of memories? Therefore, could there be any greater tribute than to lovingly remember the friends and family who touched our lives? 

Remember those friends you first met at Fish Camp?

Remember those who helped you study for a vital final exam?

Remember celebrating victories with them at The Chicken?

Remember the road trips you took with them. Remember the parties and games you attended with them.

Remember the friends — or maybe it was family members — who floated a loan for a semester of tuition or to purchase your Aggie ring? Perhaps it wasn’t even a loan. Maybe it was a gift.

Remember that Aggie you sought out for advice? Was it Dad? Was it Mom? A sibling? A spouse? A friend who might have become a business partner?

Does a mention of their name or names and bring memories flooding back to mind?

Now, remember the grief you felt when they were suddenly gone. I certainly did.

Last year I experienced Muster for the first time. I was invited along with Gabe Bock to speak at a Muster ceremony in El Salvador. The ceremony was quite formal. A dinner was served in a beautiful room. Candles flickered on tables. About a half dozen fallen Aggies would be remembered.

While delivering my speech I revealed that 10 days before, my mother Linda Robison had passed away after a lengthy illness. She was not an Aggie, but she was an Aggie football fan and watched every game. My message was that I, too, would be remembering someone dear who loved the Aggies.

Moments later, Sandra Gomez, a woman who had helped organized the event, began to softly call the muster. Each name was answered with “here” and a candle was lit in remembrance.

But before the ceremony ended, Ms. Gomez announced one more name: Linda Robison.

She wanted to make a gesture. It was appreciated.

And with a wave of emotion, a flash of memories and a lump forming in my throat, I responded.

Here.