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<p>“Proud and Great” brothers formed on an unforgettable day in July 1974 and raised right hands for our country in a peculiar place called New York, home turf of <em>Nicholas Joseph “Nick” Tessino</em>. Despite the hell-bent efforts of the khaki-clad black-helmets to slash our worldly tethers, we had ensconced in newly shaven heads inspiring images fresh out of Mel Brooks’ “Blazing Saddles.” Into this fertile milieu seeking respite from mind-numbing oppression stepped a force of nature: Nick Tessino, a cadet we would name our very own “Mongo.” Born November 3, 1955 to Albert and Frieda Tessino, Nick had grown, blossomed, and matured to become half of the dual threat on a magnificent football team. A wing-tee backfield at Glens Falls uniquely lined up with two fullbacks. One would block, the other would run the ball, and then they would switch roles—annihilating their gridiron opponents. One was Nick, team captain and Eagle Scout; the other was Jim Duggan, the future Hall of Famer “Hacksaw” Duggan of WWE wrestling. The exquisite synthesis of superior strength, frightening physique, grappling acumen and huge compassionate heart, Cadet Tessino fit the “Mongo” moniker. Given the slightest provocation in the ensuing years, Mongo would calmly chortle as he routinely exhibited an uncanny capacity to contort cadets into creative new figurines, his unique way of exhibiting abiding affection for the hamstrung victims. </p>
<p>While his wrestling moves would bring brigade-wide intramural acclaim, Nick’s ambling gait left something to be desired. Since marching in lockstep among a company of cadets was not his forte, Mongo wrote the definitive opus on ways to evade performing on the parade field. A prominent prankster, Nick could always be found with impish smirk imagining myriad means of delivering devious disorder to the cramped confines of our Hudson Highland Home. With the change of companies, Mongo departed B-3 and became a B-2 Bulldog under the tutelage of renowned tactical officer, Major Herb Lloyd. These two titans, yankee prankster and southern war hero, held diverse perspectives regarding proper development of future officers; ensuing fireworks afforded ample amusement. Academics being something to be endured, not pursued, Mongo carefully crafted his resumé with the Dean. Since weekends for academic achievement were not in the cards, almost any group headed off-post would find Nick Tessino on their upcoming trip roster. As an activity’s guru serving countless companions, Mongo organized everything from a gangster casino night at the old train station to a wine-tasting extravaganza on the superintendent’s yacht. Coordinating routine respites to his nearby home in Glens Falls, ski trips, and outings to his cabin on Lake George, Mongo helped innumerable cadets maintain their sanity. </p>
<p> Joining the Army Blue finally freed Nick from his odyssey on the Hudson. Marriage would soon have Nick finding fulfillment as a father of two blessed children: Daniel in 1981 and Jennifer in 1982. Progeny brought total joy to his life. Daddy Nick would coach his kids’ numerous sports teams, create a swim team for them, and never miss any competition in which they were playing. Teaching Daniel moves on the wrestling mat or showing Jen maneuvers on the basketball hardwood, Daddy Nick was always there for his kids. They did it all: trips, concerts, movies, plays, sporting events. Modeling the value of lifelong learning, Daddy Nick —a goat at West Point—completed two advanced degrees!</p>
<p>Nick had always dreamt of being a pilot and he found a route via an obscure backdoor: the Transportation Corps, newly opened to the Class of ’78. Proving himself in successful assignments at Mannheim and Fort Campbell, Nick was poised to make his mark in the Army. Eyesight requirements for a pilot were like regulations at West Point: guidelines to be obeyed only when they made sense. Evading barriers which stymied the less resourceful, Nick blazed a unique trail through flight physicals and Fort Rucker to become a pilot for his branch. He was assigned to Fort Eustis just as the Army’s new ubiquitous lift chopper, the Blackhawk, was taking flight. Captain Tessino would be the program manager bringing the powerful Sikorsky marvel to the entire force.</p>
<p>With the UH-60 fielding mission accomplished, civilian life in the tidewater region beckoned. “Mongo” of the Hudson became “Big Nick” of the peninsula. Purchasing regional franchising rights to Pac N Mail businesses, Big Nick opened branches preceding the massive deployments to Desert Shield. Regional military families promptly rewarded his businesses with a financial windfall. Ever the civic-minded patriot, Big Nick immersed himself in community: organizing youth sports; campaigning to send the first female Republican from Virginia to Congress; landscaping the best domestic lawn in Yorktown; and consigning his huge compassionate heart to grief relief duties in the funeral services industry. Ever the Eagle Scout, Big Nick’s home was everyone’s home; his time was their time. He took in, cared for, and gave support to those in need—regardless of age or circumstance. He would arrive to help people move, build, or repair whatever was broken or amiss in their lives. Ever the adult mentor to young athletes, Big Nick coached, taught, and showed all neighborhood kids how to play, succeed and mature in their varied athletic endeavors.</p>
<p>Nick remained a devoted member of the American Legion, the Funeral Directors Association and the Catholic Church until his work was done; his course on earth was run. He passed peacefully on April 15, 2012, while resting from his cherished yardwork. A week later, a band of USMA brothers gathered at the local Saint Joan of Arc funeral service to say with finality, “Well done!” Subsequently, we convened for formal military rites at Arlington to witness Nick’s interment. Be Thou at Peace.</p>
<p><em>—Monty Warner ’78, Family & Classmates</em></p>
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