Cliff Cushman was a man with a vision.  He didn’t worry about what could have been; he was more interested in what could be.  

     He was recognized as ND Athlete of the Year in 1960 and as a hurdler in track at the University of Kansas.  Cushman won a silver medal in the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome, placing second to another American in the 400-meter hurdles.  His dream of capturing the gold medal at the 1964 games was lost when he stumbled over a hurdle at the final US Olympic trial meet in Los Angeles.  Everyone felt sorry for the world athlete who came so close, yet so far from reaching a dream. After that experience, Cushman wrote a letter to the Grand Forks Herald in which he asked the young people in his hometown not to feel sorry for him, but instead to set goals for themselves. His letter, written on an airplane only hours after the unfortunate fall, has always been an inspiration.

     After graduating from Kansas in 1961, Cushman became a fighter pilot in the US Air Force.  In September 1966, he was listed as missing in action in Vietnam. Cushman was 28 years old at the time.  His wife, Carolyn, and 10-month-old son, Colin, could only wait.  Said his wife after being informed of her husband’s status: “Somewhere in Vietnam he’s running the biggest race of his life.  It’s like watching a race in which Cliff is running only you can’t see the finish tape.  He’s in excellent physical condition.  Cliff also has a very deep faith in God.  What better combination could there be?”

November 6, 1975, Clifton E. Cushman was officially declared dead. But his timeless inspirational message lives on.

Cliff Cushman’s Legacy

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I feel sorry for some of you.”

“Last Sunday you may have seen the U.S. Olympic trials on television.  If so, you watched me hit the fifth hurdle, fall, and lie on the track in an inglorious heap of skinned elbows, bruised hips, torn knees, and injured pride, unsuccessful in my attempt to make the Olympic team for the second time.”

“In a split second all the many years of training, pain, sweat, blisters, and agony of running were simply and irrevocably wiped out. But I tried.  I would much rather fail knowing I had put forth an honest effort than never to have tried at all.”

“This is not to say that everyone is capable of making the Olympic team. However, each of you is capable of trying to make your own personal ‘Olympic team’, whether it be the high school football team, the glee club, the honor roll, or whatever your goal may be.”

“Unless your reach exceeds your grasp, how can you be sure what you can attain? And don’t you think there are things better than cigarettes, hot rod cars, school dropouts, excessive makeup, and ducktail grease-cuts?”

“Over 15 years ago I saw a star – first place in the Olympic games.  I literally start to run for it.  In 1960 I came within three yards of grabbing it; this year I stumbled, fell, and watched it recede four more years away.”

“Certainly, I was very disappointed in falling flat on my face.  However, there is nothing I can do about it now but get up, pick the cinders from my sounds and take one more step followed by one more and one more until the steps turn into miles and the miles into success.”

“I know I may never make it. The odds are against me but I have something in my favor-desire and faith.”

“Romans 5:3-5 has always had an inspirational meaning to me in this regard: ‘We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.”

“At least I am going to try. How about you? Would a little extra effort on your part bring up your grade average? Would you have a better chance to make the football team if you stayed an extra 15 minutes after practice and worked on your blocking? “

“Let me tell you something about yourselves. You are taller and heavier than any past generation in this country.  You are spending more money, enjoying more freedom and driving more cars than ever before, yet many of you are unhappy.”

“Some of you have never known the satisfaction of doing your best in sports, the joy of excelling in class, the wonderful feeling of completing a job, any job, and looking back on it knowing that you have done your best.”

“I dare you to have your hair cut and not wilt under the comments of your so-called friends.  I dare you to clean up your language. I dare you to honor your mother and father. I dare you to go to church without having to be compelled to go by your parents. I dare you to unselfishly help someone less fortunate than yourself and enjoy the wonderful feeling that goes with it.  I dare you to become physically fit. I dare you to read a book that is not required in school. I dare you to look up at the stars, not down at the mud, and set your sights on one of them that, up to now, you thought was unattainable.  There is plenty of room at the top but no room for anyone to sit down.”

“Who knows? You may be surprised at what you can achieve with sincere effort. So get up, pick the cinders out of your wounds and take one more step. I dare you.”

Sincerely,
Clifton E. Cushman

September 17, 1964