Just over a century ago in January 1919, Curtis Redden passed away in Germany. A lieutenant colonel in 149th Field Artillery, Redden developed pneumonia in the waning days of WWI and never recovered. He received a full-on, badass military memorial service in Germany.
Readers of this site might recognize the name. Redden was a standout end on Fielding Yost’s mighty national title-winning Point-a-Minute squads from 1901 to 1903 and was named captain for his senior season.
He’s also part of a cool piece of Big Ten lore.
Space reserved for a Michigan Man
Like many structures that arose following the war, Illinois’ Memorial Stadium is dedicated to those who died in WWI. Etched upon 189 of the 200 columns that adorn the stadium facade is the name of a fallen UofI student – with two exceptions:
- Laurens ‘Spike’ Shull from The University of Chicago, and;
- Curtis Redden, a Michigan man:
Here’s a look at Redden’s column at Illinois:
photo: courtesy of Illinois Football media relations
Redden grew up 30 miles from Champaign and his WWI regiment included many Illinois students. It took a $500 gift from his 149th unit along with a $500 matching gift raised by Yost (including a $50 personal donation to lead the campaign) to get Redden honored. Certainly, Yost’s fame as a coach and his position as Michigan’s athletic director (1921) didn’t hurt matters.
After the dedication, The Michigan Alumnus observed: “[The column] will stand for all time to perpetuate the memory of Colonel Redden and as a bond of union between the two great universities.”
Here’s something I didn’t know. It turns out Yost and the 149th are honored in a small way inside Memorial Stadium as well. Check out this plaque that notes the donors for each of the columns:
Very cool!
Related
I found this whilst digging around for this post. Check out this excerpt from a chilling/amazing letter Redden wrote from the WWI front in 1918:
“And so it went from day to day, but oftimes the nights were very bad. At night, when the infantry launched its raids, or the enemy his, or the infantry became nervous and called for help, the guns stamped like stallions and snorted their breaths of fire. The blackness of the night became a series of dots and dashes, until the world resembled a vast radio station, spelling hell, hell, and hell again.
To this must be added the shriek of shells, the whistle of fragments, the automatic hammer effect of the machine gun, the rattle of the rifle fire, the rockets and star shells out over No Man’s land—all combined to make the night weird, hideous, fascinating, sublime.“
[Ed. A huge thanks to Derek at Illinois media relations for sending over these photos.]
