BROTHER TORNADO

By William B. Leahy Ohio State ’62

Like mercury, Bruce Woodward Ewing Jr. Ohio State ’59 cannot be captured easily. He can out-whirl a dervish.

Bruce is the kind of force of nature that makes meteorologists interrupt regularly scheduled programming — and makes me realize it’s not an easy assignment to write a story about my cherished friend, brother and undergraduate mentor, who is well and prospering with his lovely wife, Jo, in Oklahoma City.

To call Bruce a talented salesperson is like saying Stephen Curry is pretty good at tickling the twine from behind the three-point arc or Oppenheimer knew a few things about nuclear physics. Brother Ewing could sell ice cream bars to Alaskans, then persuade them to air condition their igloos.

Bruce could sell the Brooklyn Bridge and have the buyer beg him to throw in the George Washington. It is rumored that PT Barnum’s ancestors named their first child “Bruce” in his honor. Of course, this is hyperbole. He never sold anything not worth selling.

An unbridled, unapologetic optimist, Bruce spreads pixie dust wherever he travels. He makes Mary Poppins look like a grouchy schoolmarm and Peter Pan like the prophet of doom. He has complete conviction about every cause, every person he has touted.

No doubt you’re saying, “We get it. The guy had personality and charisma. Get on with it.” Understood.

Buckeye Born and Bred

Bruce, an Ohio native, lived in the Ohio Delta Chapter house, the former Governor’s mansion, the college home of legendary literati James Thurber 1918 and Elliot Nugent 1916 at 14th and Indianola in Columbus. I lived there, too, for almost the entire four years I matriculated as an undergraduate at The Ohio State University.

Bruce learned that my full name was William Bierce Leahy. I disliked my middle name. He would bellow in a cultured English accent — “Bierce!!” — as if he was an English peer in a country manor house summoning his valet to straighten his cravat. As always, the other brothers followed his lead, calling me Bierce. Realizing the name was affectionately applied, I grew to love it. Thereafter, my Fraternity brothers (and even a law professor or two) called me Bierce.

Every night, Bruce ordered a delicious Roma Pizza (with pepperoni adorned with pools of oil). You heard me. Every night! As reliable as Big Ben’s chimes, the delivery guy would shout up the ancient stairway to the living quarters: “PIZZA FOR EWING!” Apparently, the gastronomic offerings of our venerable cook, Lena Toler, did not measure up to Bruce’s exacting standards. And curiously, he never seemed to gain weight.

Wielding his imaginary baton, Brother Ewing always led us in song. We sang everything from “Noble Fraternity” to songs that were somewhat risqué at fraternity parties. If he had elected to sing, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” we would have followed. He could lead a rousing, “Hi, hi, hi, Phi Kappa Psi” as no one else could.

Brother Ewing is a born leader. Follow him and good things happen. Fun happens. Of course, he was Chapter GP. It is difficult to imagine any organization not elevating Bruce to the highest rung on the ladder.  In “Lord of the Flies,” he would have rightly claimed permanent possession of the conch.

All Greek, All Week

Brother Ewing spread his gospel to campus activities. He was a revered member of the prestigious service organization, Ohio Staters. He was chair of Greek Week.

Ah, Greek Week … the perfect match of product and salesperson.

Greek Week was a smashing success under Brother Ewing’s skilled stewardship. (The 125-person Greek Week committee included 15 Phi Psis.) Every OSU student had Greek Week on his or her lips. Students woke up from a sound sleep mumbling “Greek Week.” Professors would say, “How did Huckleberry Finn’s relationship to Jim affect Greek Week?” Football whisperer Woody Hayes announced, “I can’t be with you boys at practice today. I’m attending Greek Week.”

Giving Wings to Student Leadership

Bruce took this shy sophomore from Cleveland Heights, Ohio, figuratively by the scruff of the neck and escorted him to the Fraternity Affairs Office, introducing him as his protege. From that experience flowed student leadership experiences beyond my wildest dreams. Thank you, Brother Ewing.

Bruce subsequently applied his manifold talents to the national headquarters of our Fraternity — then in Cleveland, Ohio — and to the U.S. Air Force, as a career officer who served with distinction. 

I saw Brother Ewing recently at a Phi Psi reunion. He looks great and, thankfully, hasn’t changed a bit. He led his siblings in Phi Psi songs, still waving his imaginary baton. Of course, he remembered every lyric.

Everything Bruce has embraced feels the magic of his Midas touch. He found his true calling in our brotherhood. He puts his mind, heart, and soul into that fraternal endeavor. No one loves Phi Psi more.

Please join me in a long overdue, “Hi, hi, hi,” to the incomparable Bruce Woodward Ewing Jr. 

Brother Ewing was selected as a Summerfield Scholar in 1962, served at HQ as a field secretary alongside Hal Dick Bowling Green ’55 in 1963, attended the 1964 GAC, and is a retired U.S. Air Force colonel with a distinguished military career.