Webster Harrison 鈥�63, a revered football and lacrosse coach from the 1970s into the 1990s who inspired his students with a fusion of 乐播传媒 ideals and practical values gained as a Marine Corps combat veteran, died June 17 at age 78 after suffering cardiac arrest at his home in Auburn, Maine.
Appointed in 1974 as an assistant coach of football and track, Harrison would serve as a head coach in three 乐播传媒 sports for a total of 35 seasons.
He led the football program from 1978 to 1991, winning four CBB titles. As the founding head coach of the men鈥檚 varsity lacrosse program, he led the team from 1977 to 1995, earning ECAC tournament berths in 1984 鈥� and receiving New England Lacrosse Coach of the Year honors that year 鈥� and again in 1987.
Memorial Gift and Service Information
Memorial gifts may be made in Web Harrison’s memory to Friends of 乐播传媒 College Athletics, Office of College Advancement, 乐播传媒 College, 2 Andrews Road, Lewiston ME 04240. A at the Gomes Chapel at a later date.
A longtime associate professor of physical education, Harrison also served as head coach of women鈥檚 track and field for two years, 1977鈥�78 and 1978鈥�79.
After coaching, Web joined the Office of College Advancement, where he established the 乐播传媒 Parents & Family Association and gave programmatic focus to the emerging culture of parent philanthropy. He retired in 1999.
For his players, Harrison provided a way to live life with value and purpose. 鈥淗e had uncompromising integrity,鈥� said Peter Wyman 鈥�86, who played football for Harrison and is now senior vice president for cooperative development
鈥淔or many of us, his example has been a beacon and guidepost all our adult lives. He transcended the role of coach. He challenged us to make the right and best decision, to do it right the first time, and to develop standards and values and hold tight to them, especially in difficult times.鈥�
Web Harrison ’63 talks with one of his 乐播传媒 football players on Garcelon Field, circa 1982. (Courtesy Muskie Archives and Special Collections Library0
Harrison was a native of Torrington, Conn., whose maternal grandfather, William E. Webster, was mayor of Lewiston in the early 1900s. A biology major at 乐播传媒, he was a four-year member of the football team, a sportswriter for The 乐播传媒 Student, and part of the Mirror business staff.
As a 乐播传媒 Student sportswriter noted, Harrison was “small for a fullback 鈥� 5-10, 170 pounds 鈥� but a vicious blocker.鈥�
He decided to join the Marine Corps during his junior year and completed the required Platoon Leaders Class the summer before senior year. His 乐播传媒 roommate Thom Freeman 鈥�63 recalls the shock of returning to their dorm that fall. 鈥淥ur room was never the same. The doorknob was Brasso鈥檇 and shoes had to be spit-shined.鈥�
“Most everything he did revealed his deep love of 乐播传媒.”
Harrison lived 乐播传媒 and Marine Corps ideals and values, said one former player, Steve Brackett 鈥�85.
鈥淗e had an innate sense of responsibility for the people around him. And he was exacting. When you crossed that line onto the field, your socks were pulled up and your helmet strapped because if you鈥檙e going to do something, you do it right.”
Brackett, now partner and head of strategic partnerships and business development for Shepherd Kaplan Krochuk in Boston, says that Harrison “also had tremendous respect for the history and egalitarian legacy of 乐播传媒. He knew more about 乐播传媒 than anyone I knew. He lived 乐播传媒. He embodied it.鈥�
“We all knew he was a Marine and had served in Vietnam, but it was also always clear that he was a Bobcat,” recalls David Hild ’84,聽who played lacrosse and football for Harrison for eight sports seasons and is now a dean at Kingswood Oxford School in West Hartford, Conn.聽 “And most everything he did revealed his deep love of 乐播传媒.”
“He loved competition and loved to win, but not at any cost 鈥� a great lesson that he passed along to his players to keep us grounded in our own careers.”
Above all, he “was always concerned that his players represent 乐播传媒. He wasn’t interested in just ‘football’ or ‘lacrosse’ guys. They had to be more than that in the 乐播传媒 community.”
“He loved competition and loved to win, but not at any cost. He had his core values that kept him grounded 鈥� a great lesson that he passed along to his players to keep us grounded in our own careers,” said Andy McGillicudd ’85, a football and lacrosse player who is now CEO of Endocellutions.
Web Harrison ’63 (second from left) prepares to tee off with lifelong friends, from left, Chick Leahey ’52, Howard Vandersea ’63, and Bob Flynn at a Reunion golf outing in 2005. (Jay Burns/乐播传媒 College)
The character of Harrison鈥檚 players was the focus of a 1982 profile by a Maine Sunday Telegram columnist. Harrison produces 鈥済entlemen-athletes,” wrote Hank Burns. That might sound corny, he told readers, until you hear from Roger Park, then the college鈥檚 athletic trainer.
Harrison 鈥渁lways was able to cut through the crap to say, 鈥楬ere鈥檚 why you should appreciate someone.鈥欌��
鈥淲eb attracts good citizens,鈥� Park said. 鈥淚鈥檒l be honest. When I first came here, before Web, the kids we had on the team treated me as some sort of machine designed just to service their needs. The kids we get now…are genuinely interested in me as a person and in the work I do.鈥�
Steve Brackett explains how Harrison taught his players to appreciate the humanity of the people around them. One fall day, Harrison called Brackett and two football teammates, Rico Corsetti ’85, and Rich Sterling 鈥�85, over to his office. 鈥淗e said, 鈥楻oger just got a couple cords of wood delivered. Could you help him stack the wood? You鈥檒l get a spaghetti dinner from his wife.鈥欌��
Thus began a four-year tradition. 鈥淎fter the first year, we asked if we could stack it again for him. That鈥檚 how we got to know Roger and his wife.鈥�
Harrison 鈥渁lways was able to cut through the crap to say, 鈥楬ere鈥檚 why you should appreciate someone,鈥欌�� said Bracket. 鈥淗e would always say, ‘Help other people up the ladder.’鈥�
“Web would always say, ‘Help other people up the ladder,'” said Steve Brackett ’85.
When people talk about Web, phrases like 鈥渋t鈥檚 a clich茅 but…鈥� come up a lot. Clich茅s exist because they鈥檙e true. 鈥淲eb created a family among his players,鈥� Brackett says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a clich茅, it鈥檚 overused, but we felt that way. Every day I get to look at a photo in my home of my wedding, and there鈥檚 Web, beaming with a cigar and a drink, surrounded by his players.鈥�
Brackett recalls having film sessions with a 16mm projector in Web鈥檚 family room. In those sessions, Harrison鈥檚 focus was never on mistakes but on making decisions. 鈥淗e allowed you to make mistakes. He didn鈥檛 hammer you.鈥�
Brackett recalls Harrison pressing the clicker to make the film go backward and forward. 鈥淏ack and forth, back and forth, always with one question, 鈥榃hat could you have done differently?鈥欌��
Those sessions helped Brackett think like a leader.
鈥淏y the time you were a senior, Web wasn鈥檛 yelling instructions from the sideline. He expected you to adapt, or call an audible and make it work. He allowed you to make your own game plan. That鈥檚 what life is about: figuring out how to look at something three ways rather than one, to find options, to bring people into the success.鈥�
Other times, cliches can obscure finer details. Harrison was a Marine, but “he could laugh at himself,” recalls Hild. “He famously joked about his lack of lacrosse knowledge prior to being named head coach. But like everything he did, he put his heart and soul into it and became a fine and respected leader of that program.”
“He wanted you to come off the field physically spent but full of pride.鈥�
He could be introspective, too. With the football team struggling to a 1-6-1 record in 1983, “Web was candid, openly assessing and asking for input about how he might improve himself. He was an honest and friendly man.”
With Harrison, Brackett continues, 鈥測ou didn鈥檛 always have to succeed. He never faulted you for losing. But he would fault you for not giving 100 percent because you were not doing yourself any favors.
“You just had to look in his eyes when you came off the field to know if you weren鈥檛 giving it all. He wanted you to come off the field physically spent but full of pride.鈥�
Fatherless from a young age, Brackett always saw Harrison as a father figure; he was a rock that he and other former players could lean on. 鈥淎ny time I called Web, just to check in, he would always respond, 鈥淪tevie, how can I help you?鈥�
As a player, “there was a clear line between us and him as a coach,” said Bracket. “But it was always about respect first. When we graduated, he continued to take a great interest in our lives and pride in our successes,” said Brackett.
“Web would get a gleam in his eye when he was talking about one of his guys doing something that made him proud,” recalls Hild. “And ultimately, most of us truly cared about making him proud.”
Web Harrison poses with his former players, including Steve Brackett ’85 (center, bow tie), at Brackett’s wedding reception. “As a player, there was a clear line between player and coach,” said Bracket. “But it was always about respect first. When we graduated, he continued to take a great interest in our lives and pride in our successes.” (Photo courtesy Steve Brackett)
Harrison cultivated diverse interests. Before joining the athletics staff in 1974, he and his first wife, Virginia Erskine Harrison ’63, took a stab as organic farmers in Fayette, Maine. “But I could never coach the rocks from the lands,” Harrison would say.
In 1988, the Lewiston Journal featured him in a story about local coaches who prepare distinctive dishes for Super Bowl parties. Cooking, he said, 鈥渋s almost like coaching. 鈥淵ou put a plan together and see results 鈥� faster than you do in coaching.鈥�
Harrison鈥檚 recipe for 鈥淏uffalo Wings Plus鈥� was featured, and he touted one of his drink recipes. 鈥淏eat Bowdoin Greasewood Golden Margaritas,鈥� named in honor of a big 乐播传媒 football victory.
Then there is Harrison鈥檚 huge spread of daffodils 鈥� some 12,000-plus in 14 gardens 鈥� that would bloom each spring in front of his home in Auburn and that he would deliver to area schools and medical nonprofits, including the Dempsey Center and Androscoggin Home Healthcare and Hospice.
鈥淢arines, athletes, daffodils,” he said聽鈥� “you start them all young and nurture them.鈥�
In May 2017, Web Harrison ’63 sits amid some of his daffodils at his Auburn home. Each year, he donated the blossoms to area nonprofits. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/乐播传媒 College)
An unusual legacy at 乐播传媒 is that Harrison coined the famous 乐播传媒 cheer, 鈥淚t鈥檚 a great day to be a Bobcat,鈥� an amalgam of 乐播传媒 and Marine Corps cultures.
As officer candidates, he and his fellow Marines were expected to greet officers this way: 鈥淕ood afternoon, sir, and welcome to another grand and glorious day to be alive and a member of the U.S. Marine Corps, where every day is a holiday and every meal is a banquet.鈥�
Web brought the sentiment to 乐播传媒, where the saying got shortened to, finally, “What a great day to be a Bobcat.” “I鈥檓 actually very happy that it鈥檚 being carried on,” Harrison said in 2013.
During Reunion 2013, Web Harrison explains how he coined the 乐播传媒 rallying cry “It’s a Great Day to Be a Bobcat.”
The story about Harrison joining speaks volumes about the U.S., pre-Vietnam. His classmate Alan Marden, fearing that he was going to flunk Shakespeare and thus flunk out of 乐播传媒, wanted to check out military service. For support, Harrison accompanied Marden to the Marine Corps recruiting station.
鈥淎s it turned out, Al did all right in Shakespeare and didn鈥檛 join the Marine Corps,鈥� recalled Harrison in a 1998 乐播传媒 Oral History Project interview. 鈥淏ut I did.鈥�
In his 乐播传媒 oral history interviews, Harrison often had to detangle his decision to join the Marines from a common perception of the era. While it was the 1960s, it was not yet The Sixties. Vietnam wasn鈥檛 on everyone’s radar, and World War II was less than 20 years in society鈥檚 rearview mirror.
鈥淵oung men who grew up at the time I did,” Harrison said, “heard an awful lot about World War II from older relatives, and all you heard were the good things. I had something that I owed to my country. And it was also a challenge. I felt that being an officer in the Marine Corps would help me figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”
鈥淚 get what America means,鈥� he added. 鈥淚 get the benefits of what America means. So, how do I help preserve what that means? Service is one way.鈥�
He was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Marines on the day he graduated in 1963. Two years later, in 1965, he was among the first U.S. combat soldiers deployed to Vietnam.
Web Harrison ’63 with the Marine Corps in Vietnam, circa 1965. (Courtesy of Web Harrison)
His experiences as a Marine Corps infantry platoon commander, company executive officer, and battalion and regimental operations officer in and around Da Nang Air Base are referenced in the acclaimed Vietnam memoir A Rumor of War by Philip Caputo.
The book is a graphic and unvarnished account of the long war鈥檚 earliest months. In one scene, Harrison looks out over the Marines鈥� encampment, which Caputo describes as 鈥渆verything aboveground, uncamouflaged, laid out in tidy rows, and nothing between it and the VC but a roll of rusting concertina wire.鈥� Looking at the vulnerable scene, Harrison speaks of the past and future when he says, 鈥淛esus, Phil, even the French dug in.鈥�
The book has 鈥済ot its mark on me, and probably a lot deeper than I would like to admit,鈥� Harrison said in 1998. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know whether it鈥檚 bad or good or what, but it certainly has had a very big effect on me.鈥�
Harrison classmate Howard Vandersea 鈥�63, part of a tight-knit group of 乐播传媒 friends from the early 1960s, was head football coach at Springfield and later at Bowdoin, from 1984 to 1999. He faced Harrison-led teams eight times.
The 1962 football game program featured this photo of Web Harrison ’63.
Military service in Vietnam, says Vandersea, 鈥渇ormed the person Web became: disciplined, goal-oriented, a leader, a patriot.鈥� In 2013, Harrison and several classmates gave a Reunion talk about their Vietnam experiences. 鈥淗e was consumed with the study of Vietnam,鈥� Vandersea says, 鈥渋ts history, its people, and the 鈥榳hy鈥� of the war.鈥�
Web was discharged from the Marines as a captain in 1967. He did graduate work at Boston University and served as an assistant football coach before moving to Maine in 1974.
鈥淣one of that had to do with their athletic ability. It had to do with helping them be the best person they could be.”
He turned to coaching, he said, because he regarded his own coaches, people like the late Bob Hatch and Chick Leahey 鈥�52 (both Marines) 鈥渁s people that I thought led exemplary lives. They were true role models for me, and I think in many ways that鈥檚 why I wanted to get into coaching聽鈥� I thought, what a great way to spend your life.鈥�
In his oral history, Harrison said that coaching was most rewarding when he helped students 鈥渨ho had the toughest time here. Those were the ones that I felt were my successes 鈥� students who changed the most in the course of their time here and who came in and needed help and needed direction.
鈥淣one of that had to do with their athletic ability. It had to do with helping them be the best person they could be. Those were the ones who I remember most fondly.鈥�
As he told an interviewer in 1982, “I’m probably a pretty poor X’s and O’s coach. I probably spend too much time in the locker room with the players just talking and finding out what’s going on in their lives.”
His experience in the Marines, he said, 鈥済ave me a chance to see if I could fill a leadership role. And I liked it. I found out that I could do it reasonably well. As I view coaching now, I鈥檓 kind of doing that same thing: I鈥檓 having an influence on young men in not too different a way from what I did when I was in the service.鈥�
Alumni like Brackett have felt it all their lives.
鈥淚鈥檝e coached youth leagues, and I can鈥檛 step on a field without thinking about him,鈥� Brackett says. 鈥淚 relate so much about my life to Web. I credit him with success in business, family, and friendships. Web taught me about living with integrity and a moral compass.鈥�
Harrison’s survivors include his wife, Kathleen McEntee Harrison, a daughter, Kathryn Harrison, and her husband, Tim Smith; and a granddaughter, Delia Smith.
