Remembering Dr. Bernard C. Easterday

Kristen Bernard (MS’92 PhD’95)

“If you were talking to me and Barney — probably about his travels and escapades in Africa — you could bet at some point he’d comment that you were part of a ‘Bernard Sandwich.’ We had a lot of laughs over that, and it led us to discover we shared the nickname ‘Barnyard’ since we both grew up on farms and were interested in animals and science.”

Thomas Curro (DVM’89 MS’95)

Two things that Dr. Easterday said that have always stuck with me. Always pronounce VETERINARIAN correctly. And always refer to yourself as a VETERINARY MEDICAL DOCTOR. He always wanted us to be known as professionals in our profession.

Ian Duncan

Barney Easterday was a monumental figure in the founding of the School of Veterinary Medicine, and those who worked there or are still at the SVM, , owe him a huge debt of gratitude. As one of the first faculty members he recruited, he fulfilled his promise to me that the school would support excellence in all disciplines and not focus on dairy medicine alone, a possibility given the political struggles to establish the school. He loved the students and was very proud of their achievements. I remember one of his often used refrains when addressing them was to “take time to smell the roses” He loved to joke, sometimes a little risqué, but always with his infectious smile. I felt great support from him throughout my career and am truly grateful to him.

Chris Eisele (’91)

I was first introduced to Dean Easterday by Bill Goodger, both were MSU alumni. They often enjoyed discussing epidemiology followed up by important Badger basketball conversations.  I had the pleasure of continuing those conversations with him over many years, as well as chats about which clinics, farms,  and veterinarians we were working with.  I’ll miss those conversations and seeing him in our hallways, and will always appreciate his leadership and contributions to the SVM.

Patrick Farrell (DVM’87)

“I met Barney when I was a young graduate student in the Dept of Vet Sci in 1981. At the time he was really busy getting the building for the new Vet school built.

The relationships between the faculty in Vet Sci and the grad students was always close, more like a family. After my years at Vet Sci grad school, I was in the class that started DVM program in 1983, finishing in ‘87, and Barney was our founding Dean. Many in our class were particularly close to Barney as well as the other founding faculty and administration. Maybe unusually so since everything was brand new for all of us at UW-SVM.

I joined the Deans advisory board at Barney’s request as his Deanship was winding down in order to provide some historical continuity for the board as Daryl Buss began his term.

Barney and Char opened their home and his airplane hanger to my family and I as I we were both pilots whenever I would fly to Madison for meetings. We shared many hours as friends discussing life and the trajectory that our profession was on. We would meet at air shows and spend a lot of time enjoying our other passion for flight. As Barney became less capable physically, yet always incredibly capable and present in every other way, my sons and I would schedule projects to work on his house and farm when we were in town. Barney had many talents, but home repairs were not one of them!

Barney was a true historian and would share wonderful stories, often relating to our profession. You have heard about his time in Fort Dietrich working in the Army and his work with Foreign Animal diseases in Africa. This along with his work confirming the transmission of Influenza between swine and humans informed his own professional trajectory. In my opinion Barney was one of the founders of what we call ‘ONE HEALTH’ today and we did not have a name for it back then.

Barney was a curious scientific mind for his entire life and was also curious about the people he met. He had a very well-honed compass of what direction Veterinary Medicine should be aspiring to and was very early in the recognition that our careers could take many paths and not just into a clinic.

I remember one time he was going to Soviet Russia to give a seminar and attend a conference. The intelligence community of the US asked him if he would be able to provide them information when he returned from the trip. Barney unequivocally stated that he would absolutely not be willing to help them and that the research that was being done by all these professionals transcended politics. His compass was always true.

Barney always reveled in the relationships he developed and had many people that called him friend and mentor. During his time in Africa he learned to speak Swahili and was made an honorary member of the Maasai tribe. He retained lifelong friends from Africa and all over the world. I believe that Veterinary Medicine is forever changed by his efforts, that the collision of Vet Med, human health and ecological health what we know as One Health became an entity through his efforts and the efforts of other greats in our professions.

We had one of his trips for an African Safari planned and he had a health setback preventing him from guiding the trip. He winked at me and said ‘you’re up’ and that I was the only Veterinarian going on the tour and it became my responsibility. During this trip I was able to set up a teleconference call (like Zoom now) at one of the outposts. Barney shared his joy of the area over a cocktail hour while we were in Tanzania and he remained convalescing at home. He said it was the absolute best medicine he ever could have.

Founding Dean Bernard Easterday remained relevant for his entire term on earth, his efforts will remain relevant for many years to come and the people that have come to call him friend and mentor shall keep his efforts alive.”

Kristen Friedrichs (’86 DVM’91)

“Dr. Easterday was my basic science adviser as a veterinary medical student. I was quite intimidated when I learned that the DEAN was my adviser — I shouldn’t have been. He connected me with his [female] classmate, who was a veterinary anatomic pathologist at the Kentucky State Diagnostic Lab, for an externship when I was a senior student. I went for the horses (and the 1990 AAEP Annual Convention) not knowing that I would become a veterinary pathologist later in my career. When I returned for my clinical pathology residency in 1999, he was no longer Dean but I saw him frequently in the halls of the SVM! We were colleagues in the same department (PBS) as I stayed on as an instructor and then clinical faculty. At a UW-Madison alumni event, Charlene and Barney sat next to my uncle and [favorite] aunt, Don and Esther Friedrichs, and quickly made the connection back to me. I believe it was at this serendipitous event that Barney learned of a Friedrichs connection to Hillsdale High School. Barney went to high school with my…paternal grandpa’s twin brother’s wife. I think I have that right…if not, it was not for the lack of Barney’s reminding me of the connection every time we interacted over the last [two?] decades. When Linda Sullivan and I became co-coordinators for Active Integrated Learning (AIL), Barney participated in ‘Bucky’s Dairy,’ the case that introduced students to the role that federal and state veterinarians and the WDVL pathologists play in protecting US and WI animal agriculture from foreign animal diseases (FAD). Because of Dr. Easterday’s military history of working with cattle diseases in Kenya, we used Rinderpest as the FAD that was disseminated during the World Dairy Expo as an act of bioterrorism. During the expert panel after the case, Dr. Easterday enjoyed sharing his unexpected path to Kenya and on to influenza research and as founding Dean of the UW-SVM. The students were a bit dismayed that an eradicated disease was deemed essential educational material to becoming a day-1-ready veterinarian. They may have overlooked the bigger lesson in the moment, but I hope they later recalled Dr. Easterday’s real message that day. Take chances when opportunity presents itself even if you do not feel prepared. Trust that a veterinary medical degree can take you to amazing places – across the state, the nation, and the globe and into the lives of people who care about their animals – be they companions or their livelihood. I thank Dr. Easterday for his inspiration and the joy he radiated for his beloved profession.”

Tony Goldberg

Dean Easterday was enormously fond of Africa, especially Kenya. We always enjoyed exchanging stories about our experiences in Africa. It was always fun to greet each other in Swahili.  Kwa heri, Bwana.

John Hallett (’87 DVM’90)

I enjoyed meeting with Dr. Easterday as I designed the “Forward Together” sculpture for the new courtyard. He shared many key points that ultimately led to the creation of the School of Veterinary Medicine at UW, a topic that he was passionate about. Some of those key points can be found on the left side of the bronze sculpture, including the dates 1878 (first UW veterinary faculty member) and 1911 (formation of the Veterinary Science department) and a veterinary truck representing the fourth year ambulatory rotation pioneered at UW.

Jon Levine

Dr. Easterday was a giant in the worlds of veterinary medicine, higher education, and infectious disease research. As founding Dean of SVM, he helped set the school’s course as an institution deeply committed to students, research, patients, and community-centered outreach. I’ll miss his warmth, humor, focus on excellence, and deep caring about SVM.

John Nelson (MS’76)

“What a remarkable person Dr. Easterday was. I met him as a part of the design team for the original building – I was a “baby engineer” at the time.

Everyone working on the job realized how cool it was to be part of creating a School of Vet Med in Wisconsin, and revered Barney for his instrumental role. After that project was complete, the University of Florida had a problem with their existing Vet Med facilities. Barney and I were hired to advise on a plan to resolve them – Barney for the program, me for the engineering. We spent the better part of a year commuting regularly together to Gainesville.

At that time the best connection involved driving to and from Milwaukee’s Mitchell Field in my 1979 VW Rabbit, without air conditioning.

A new hospital resulted, but – more importantly – I got to know Barney well. After every trip, I’d tell Linda (Nelson MS’82) how remarkable he was. His humility, humanity, affability, good nature left a lasting impression to which I aspired. Later when we were able to support the SVM, which had cared for many of our Golden Retrievers), we were delighted to learn that the opportunity existed to name a donation in Barney’s honor.”

Scott Spaulding (DVM’91)

“The world of veterinary medicine lost a great one. News of the passing of 96-year-old Dr. Bernard Easterday, certainly not surprising, yet shocking. My first recollection of Barney was at orientation of our veterinary school class in the fall of 1987. His passion, his professionalism; he told us, ‘You’re not becoming ‘Vets,’ you’re becoming ‘Doctors of Veterinary Medicine,’ to wear this title with pride, to dress the part.

He always set the example of pride in the profession, always respectful, always professionally dressed. He set the bar high and expected us to follow his lead. I fondly remember our spring 1991 veterinary school award ceremony. I was thrilled when he presented me with one of the first ever Peter Bunn Awards. I treasure the photo of us together at the award ceremony.

Barney became a cherished mentor and adviser. He visited me numerous times at our practice, Badger Veterinary Hospital in Janesville. He was thrilled when I shared the news of my founding of Mixed Animal Veterinary Associates North America; we had such great discussion. We had many meetings to strategize how to support and raise the profile of the prestigious Peter Bunn Award, one of his greatest passions.

As President of the Wisconsin Veterinary Medical Association, in 2017 I chose to present Barney and Dr. Sue Hyland the President’s Award for their amazing contributions to veterinary medicine in the State of Wisconsin, what a personal thrill for me. A couple of years later I was asked to present this dynamic duo an achievement award on behalf of our School of Veterinary Medicine Alumni Association (SVMAA). I always greatly admired the fact that Barney led a team that built a veterinary school from the ground up; who does that? Imagine the excitement, the perseverance, the tenacity it takes to accomplish this and look at what it’s grown into today, one of the most highly ranked veterinary schools in the world. So inspiring!

Barney, thanks so much for your leadership, your vision, your perseverance, your tenacity, your passion for the profession, your guidance, your mentorship. You will be sorely missed and leave incredible shoes to fill. God speed my friend, until we meet again….”

Marulasiddappa Suresh

Barney was not only a remarkable leader but also an exceptional human being. He instilled the values of “Research, Innovation, and Collaboration” deeply into the very DNA of the SVM community. I feel incredibly fortunate to have known him and to have witnessed the lasting impact he made.

Ty Vannieuwenhoven (DVM’89)

Barney supported me going Active Duty Army after graduation when several faculty members thought that I could do better and there was no history of this career route before me. Barney said that was a small regret that he had was leaving the Army. The rest of the story is that he had to report my class rank to the Army recruiter and wondered if my rank in my class would keep me from getting in.

Norm Wilsman

“From hundreds of memories of Barney, I choose to write about one.  It’s not the time Barney tossed me a set of ignition keys saying to the assembled, ‘and Norm will drive the other van.’  It isn’t the time Barney and I played hooky from a dreadful national meeting when Barney leaned over and whispered, ‘Would you like to get out of here. I have two tickets to the Holocaust Museum.’ I didn’t choose the night in December 1981, when from a second floor window, I saw Barney in a snowball fight in Parking Lot 42 under the dreaded black metal fire escape attached to the outside of ‘Rennie’s’ at 333 North Randall.

It was the last week of August, just before Labor Day 1983 – student orientation. Barney was addressing our first-ever class of veterinary medical students. He stood at that simple blond oak lectern. He, with Dean Hyland, sitting nearby, knew many of those students—Charlie, Brad, Pat, and Jeff—Bitsey, Beth, and the two Barbs. Terry spoke at the building dedication. Tom was a personal inspiration. Mary R was a goalie for the women’s hockey team.  Rebecca Stepien and Linda Sullivan were daily reminders of those moments on that day when all looked back at Barney at the lectern, betting on him and betting on each other to deliver.

In addition to the first class, Barney and Dean Hyland had assembled an exceptional administrative group—including Jerry Bisgard and Tass Dueland, both of whom were mentors of mine.  The students with notebooks and colored pencils were eager to get started, ready to go, and by that time, there were two graduate students and a small ragtag group of young faculty who joined early.  We sat in the back corner watching, listening.

I look at that photo and see a room filled with hope, pride, determination, commitment, and a little anxiety, but here’s the truth.  In my memory, the rest of the building was…mostly…empty, except for the cow skeleton built by Mary Maxon, and some office furniture.

The first teaching lectures were scheduled for 2350 the Tuesday after Labor Day.  After Barney, Sue, and the students left for other orientation activities, I walked to the front.  In the chalk tray was an unopened green and white box of white chalk.  Nothing is a better metaphor for the start of a new school year, anywhere, than a piece of fresh chalk.

Then as I looked around, to my surprise there was no colored chalk. I raced to the deans’ office and said, ‘Dan!’ (Dean Dan Redmond, Barney’s Associate Dean for Finance),  ‘Dan!  There’s no colored chalk!’  Dan said calmly, ‘That’s right.  We decided that we could afford to provide faculty with white chalk, but, if faculty wanted colored chalk, they would have to buy their own.’

Wallace Stegner wrote an essay for the Wisconsin Humanities Council, A Sense of Place, that seems appropriate as we remember Barney, Room 2350 and the 1983 SVM.

 ‘…a place is not a place until people have been born in it, have grown up in it, lived in it, known it, died in it – have both experienced and shaped it, as individuals…and communities, over more than one generation.’

Before Barney stood at the lectern and students sat in those seats for the first time, 2350 was a room but had none of Stegner’s qualities of being a ‘Place.’

New leaders came and continued/continue to shape this Place. Dean Buss said to me, ‘Are those the same CRIS forms we use to call the damn CRIS forms?’  Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard of the CRIS forms?  Dean Markel said to a reporter, ‘I’d invite you to sit down but there is no place to sit down.’  Dean Levine, generously, wrote ‘I can’t believe all that you’ve accomplished.’  The thing is, as others note, Barney never left—probably never will—audience, witness, coach, friend.  He loved this Place and everything about it.  Thank you for the privilege of sharing this memory.”