Most people in Tulare know the name of Admiral Elmo (Bud) Zumwalt Jr., the Tulare boy who became the head of the U.S. Navy in the 1970s. But his many biographies don’t tell about the rambunctious, prank-playing kid who grew up in a prominent Tulare family in the 1920s and ’30s.
Those early years are now captured in delightful stories in a book by Zumwalt’s nephew, Richard E. Crowe, called “My Family History: Stories to Crowe About.” Crowe will tell some of those stories and sign his book at 5 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 28 at the Tulare Historical Museum.
Crowe starts the book by saying, “Bud’s great sense of humor, his at times over-the-top behavior, his having the world by the tail—one might wonder how this guy became Chief of Naval Operations 32 years later!”
Crowe has traced the Zumwalt family back 300 years, first coming to Tulare in 1878. That generation built a two-story house out by Tagus Ranch. It’s still there. Bud’s parents were both doctors. His father was city and county health officer, Boy Scout chairman, school trustee and Rotary president.
Bud’s older sister, Saralee Zumwalt, was Crowe’s mother. All four Zumwalt children were fun-loving and smart, but Bud was in a class by himself, according to Crowe.
“Bud was in debate and got good grades. [He was valedictorian.] It was just a piece of cake for him. It was like he breezed through life,” Crowe said.
Even his pranks didn’t slow him down—even when they attracted the police.
Pat Hillman, who was a childhood friend of the Zumwalt kids, provided some of the wilder stories from her husband Dale’s memoirs.
“Many of our escapades were conceived in Bud’s fertile brain,” Dale Hillman wrote.
“When we were seniors, we were once again apprehended by the police on Halloween. We were all standing out in front of one of the City Council member’s houses, hooting and hollering… He called the police; they came and rounded us all up and lined us up in front of a police car. Bud Zumwalt, ever the wily one, pushed two of the guys up the alley one way, yelled, ‘There they go!’ and he took off with one other fellow in the opposite direction.
“I found out later that Bud and the guy who escaped with him ran over to the high school and climbed up to the roof on the fire escape and ran from building to building yelling at the police who, by that time, were chasing them. Bud was yelling at them and calling them names, most of the names referring to their intelligence.”
There are stories about Bud teasing his siblings unmercifully, playing strip poker, playing jokes on his teacher and swiping light bulbs. But he and his pals really didn’t get into much trouble.
“Kids could get pretty rambunctious in those days,” Crowe said. “It was the Depression. There were no TV or electronics. Kids had to make their own fun.”
The book is full of first-person stories by family members that show what life was like then and later.
Crowe knew he had a famous uncle but didn’t see a lot of him until he joined the Navy himself.
“In 1966 at the height of the Vietnam war, Bud wrote me a letter saying I better think about life after high school. He said you better join the Navy or be drafted,” Crowe said.
Zumwalt helped the young Crowe get into officer candidate school. By the time Crowe was assigned to a ship, Zumwalt was the commander of Naval forces in Vietnam, and his nephew volunteered for duty there.
“I kind of kept our relationship a secret,” Crowe said.
But he did tell his captain of the relationship in case Zumwalt would come to visit.
“Sure enough. A week before Bud’s visit … Operations Officer Kerry Kirk charged in a minute ahead of the CO and, with a big grin, announced, ‘Guess who’s coming out to the ship to visit? Admiral Zumwalt!’ My head dropped in anticipation of the next statement. ‘… and he’s Dick Crowe’s uncle!’ A room full of jaw-dropping heads snapped in my direction.”
A month after this visit, Zumwalt asked Crowe’s CO if Crowe could get a week’s leave to visit him in Saigon.
“What was the captain going to say?”
Crowe got his week to visit with his famous uncle.
Zumwalt never forgot his roots. Pat Hillman recalled that later in life Bud and his wife would come to visit her in Tulare. He would plop down on the couch in a relaxed motion and said simply, “I’m home!”
What to know
This article originally appeared on Visalia Times-Delta: Admiral Bud Zumwalt’s rambunctious Tulare youth revealed in new book
Reporting by Donna Orozco, Special to Visalia Times-Delta / Visalia Times-Delta
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
