After Taps Isaac “Russ” Quay II ’70 By Stephen E. Talley ’70 Russ Quay ’70, who died Nov. 30, 2021, came to VMI from Hargrave Military Academy in Chatham, Virginia, as did four other brother rats: Bob Copty ’70, A.C. Arnn ’70, Ned Perrow ’70, and Richard Cabiness ’70. The 1967 football season was exciting, disappointing at times, and in the end, wildly successful. Two great VMI quarterbacks led the Keydets to their 6-4 season: Charlie Bishop ’68, co-captain of the team, and Russ. Bishop got the season rolling with a 46-21 drubbing of Davidson. The Roanoke World News named Bishop as the offensive player of the week; Virginia Tech’s Frank Beamer was the defensive player of the week. In the next two games, VMI lost to West Virginia and Richmond 21-9 and 3-0, respectively. The next game against William & Mary resulted in a 33-28 defeat. Russ played quarterback, however, engineering all four touchdowns—and reenergizing the team. Lee Barnes ’69 recalled, “Russ was just the thing [to shake things up]. There was new vigor and belief in our offense, which helped inspire our defense to believe victories were indeed attainable.” After taming The Citadel 22-11, VMI was pounded 56-6 by then-No. 8 Georgia. The Keydets then pulled themselves together and rang up three straight victories over Virginia (18-13), Akron (38-14), and Boston College (26-13). A winning season was now possible, but VMI would be going up against Virginia Tech in the traditional Thanksgiving Day season finale—a team that had walloped VMI 70-12 the year before. Late in the game, Virginia Tech led 10-6. Then VMI’s fortunes took a dramatic turn. As Bill Brill, Roanoke Times sports editor, wrote, “[T]he inspired Keydets ... put the Gobblers on notice when the ‘classy and cocky’ Russ Quay threw a bomb to Frank Easterly [’69] deep in Tech territory, with just 2.5 minutes left.” The Tech defender was called for interference on the play, and Easterly was so ecstatic he hugged the back judge. With the ball on the six-yard line, Vito Ragazzo, head coach, called for a running play, but Russ saw Virginia Tech’s defensive line stacking up in anticipation of a run. In finest sandlot style, he scratched out a pass play in the mud. Fortune favors the brave, and Russ hit tight end John Hince ’68 in the end zone for a touchdown. There was still plenty of fight left in Tech. With just two seconds left, Tech’s kicker attempted a field goal from VMI’s 30-yard line into the teeth of a strong wind. The crowd held its breath. The ball sailed high, then drifted to the left and fell short. “I was screaming, ‘No!’ Then, it was like the hand of God reached out and smacked the ball down short of the goal posts,” said Phil Bryant ’70. John Ludt ’70 remembers, “The flight of the ball only lasted five or six seconds, but it was five or six seconds I will never forget.” VMI was victorious, 12-10. That wasn’t the first time the crowd held its breath that day. Earlier, Julian Smith ’70, defensive back, seriously injured his neck tackling George Constantinides, Tech fullback. A cold silence blanketed the stadium when Julian went down. He left the field on a gurney to rousing applause. Russ said at the end of the game, “We had to win. When Julian got hurt, we had to win.” In the locker room, Bob Schmalzriedt ’68, one of the cocaptains, said, “I can’t help crying. I knew we had it. I knew because we stayed together as a team.” The team VMI beat was a talented squad that had won their first seven games. A win against VMI would have put them in the Liberty Bowl. Beamer told me recently the VMI game was the biggest game of the year for Tech. “VMI was always tough against us. We knew we would be in a dog
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fight. I had to ‘bump’ VMI’s great receiver, Frank Easterly, often because he was so quick and hard to cover.” Russ was big—he was one of the three heaviest men on the team—but clumsy he was not. Barnes, VMI defensive end, said, “He often avoided sacks by scrambling. Like a great dancing bear, he would scramble left, right, then find a spot in the pocket to uncork a 50-yard pass.” Scramble he could, but Bob Hockley ’70, center, recounts Russ “would rather run through a tackler than around him.” The two developed a special quarterback sneak “goose” play. At the line of scrimmage, Russ would tap the inside of Hockley’s thigh. Hockley would snap the ball at once, and following Hockley, Russ would bull his way forward for a first down. He threw the pigskin as hard as he ran, but the passes were not always perfect spirals. “A Russ Quay wobbler provided excellent teasing opportunities,” explained Cody Trammel ’70, wide receiver. “Guys would start making duck quacks. Once, a quacking receiver caught Russ’ attention. He threw a hard pass that struck his tormentor on his helmet, sending him to the ground. There were no more ‘quacks’ that day.” Russ’ “bigness” was more than physical. He had a big heart, “the heart of a lion,” according to Easterly. He believed in himself and in his teammates. Bob Habasevich ’69 said, “When Russ was on the field, everyone rose to the occasion and gave more than they thought they had.” “He was one of the most unpretentious guys I knew,” recalled Dick Knight ’70. “I never once heard him brag about his football exploits or even mention the subject. He was humble and self-effacing. Just a regular guy.” A regular guy indeed, but, on the gridiron, he was Mr. Confidence, always focused on scoring and winning. “I admired how well he stepped into the leadership role. He was tenacious and talented. Pressure always made him better at his game,” said Bob Schmalzriedt ’68. Ludt remembered, “The leadership Russ Quay exhibited was what gave our team a winning attitude. At the end of the season, we all felt that no matter who we played, we could beat them.” Although Russ replaced him as starting quarterback, Bishop delighted in seeing him shine. He described Russ as “a pure winner, a motivator, a team builder.” A superb football player he was, but Russ sank like a stone in the VMI swimming pool. Neil Steverson ’70 remembers Coach Joyce required cadets to swim the length of the pool to pass rat swimming. After some begging, Russ persuaded Joyce to agree to pass him if he swam the width of the pool. In front of his cheering classmates, he pulled it off—a feat, he once quipped, that “was tougher than any football game I ever played in.” I played rat football with Russ in 1966. He put a smile on my face whenever I was around him. I felt better about myself and the world in his presence. And it wasn’t just me. Dave Price ’70 recounted a time when he sat with Russ and other BRs at a VMI football game. He did not know Russ well at VMI, but afterward, he knew he had gained a loyal friend. “His loss has been painful,” Dave said, “but his memory will not fade and will always bring smiles.” Perhaps Easterly said it best: “Russ was a ‘good guy’ and that’s the highest compliment I can give anyone who wins and endures the pressures of life at VMI.” A high compliment, indeed. Russ acquitted himself very well here on earth. He will do so in heaven, as well. Rest in peace, brother rat.
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