I learned today that the first master with whom I worked, Edwin “Buzz Hurst, passed away last month at the age of 84. My good friend Patrick Bratton (Sala della Spada, Carlisle, Pennsylvania, USA) shared the USFA’s fb page about it:
Before working with Buzz, I had studied foil with a gentleman in the DC area, one who split time between Olympic Fencing, SCA, and work. Working with Maestro Hurst was far more regimented, and true to his navy roots, more like working with a drill sergeant than a coach. He was somewhat notorious for berating fencers he didn’t think were trying hard enough, smacking them across the mask, and often expressing his opinions about one’s ability and/or ancestry. Having grown up in a military family, I didn’t take any of it to heart, so was better able to focus on the lesson, but I will say it was often as funny as it was mean. Some favorites:
“You move like a bovine.”
“Look, grow a pair, and hit that guy. My grandmother could hit him.”
“What’s your major?” [Buzz would often try to use our study track for analogies]
“Archaeology.”
“Damn. Uh… do you know boxing?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay, we’ll go with that.”
I learned a lot from Buzz–he provided me a solid foundation upon which Al Couturier and his assistants, and later Delmar Calvert, constructed more of a building (one still very much in the process of being built).
Buzz had some fantastic stories. One of my favorites was about a collegiate bout he was in while at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. One of his opponents, no kidding, was Neil Diamond, the pop star. In this particular tournament Buzz lost to Neil and it still bothered him. I heard this story in 1991 or 1992, and if I recall correctly he concluded with “Can’t believe I lost to the Jazz Singer.” Funny chap.
Rest in Peace Buzz, and thanks
*Being a club team, we couldn’t easily afford a coach of Buzz’s caliber, and so I think by 1994 he was in San Diego. He didn’t say much about it, least not that I have heard or read, but he was the first coach to get our team to first place, something a club team had not been able to do in at least 25 years.
Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing 
My condolences friend. I know he meant a lot to you and you continue his tradition of providing quality sabre instruction.
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Rest in peace Buzz. Like you, I have many fond memories of the trainings, witticisms, and beratings. I certainly owe my fencing career to Buzz and our proud moment of being a championship club team.
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Wow…some weird timing on this one. I was just wondering about Buzz over the weekend and if he was still teaching in San Diego. I knew he was getting up there in years, but he always seemed like the type of coach who would be doing his thing until he couldn’t anymore.
My memories of Buzz at UCSB are a little less positive than yours, I think. I remember his style as the equivalent of a football coach who grabs a player’s facemask and gives it a shake to get a point across. Some folks respond well to that kind of “guidance,” but that is not me. I have two clear memories of Buzz that I can recall vividly. The first was when I took my first foil lesson with him, and he said I “held a foil like a lumberjack.”
The second instance was in another lesson when I kept messing up a compound coupe attack that we had practiced before. He started to swat my helmet with his blade and had some choice expletives for my performance. Again, I do not respond well to that kind of coaching. I walked out of the lesson and took some time because I was seeing red and close to decking him.
That being said, I learned a lot about fencing from Buzz even though I didn’t always like the process. I think that speaks well of his legacy as a coach. I would probably react more positively to the wisdom he imparted now that I am older and grayer and not a 20 year old kid with an attitude…:-)
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Hi Jon! I hear you, and, to be completely candid I do not disagree. While it is true that we couldn’t afford to keep Buzz on, being a club team sans NCAA funding, it is also true that no one tried super hard to retain him. His demeanor in lessons upset everyone.
I learned a lot from him, but I would have learned far more had he not been such an ass. Put another way, he failed to read the room–we were college kids in Southern California, at a school where people skipped class to surf, NOT ensigns at the naval academy…
Not long after we let him go/he left, I ran into the coach from CalTech, Carlos Fuertes, and he attempted to grill me for dirt. I might have objected to Buzz’s teaching style, but I wasn’t going to throw him under the bus, especially to the likes of Carlos, a coach who when directing a bout I was in once tried to assist my opponent in Spanish (he didn’t realize I understood him–he got very uncomfortable…). I told Carlos it was financial, but he knew no matter what I said, and that told me a LOT about Buzz’ rep amongst his peers.
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That is an interesting piece of history I did not know. I thought it was just me and my immaturity…:-) You can’t argue with the results we had that year; still a highlight of my time at UCSB. Good on you for not kicking the maestro’s reputation in the dirt.
I am reminded of a math teacher I had in middle school named- and this is true- Adolf Kush. He was one of those instructors that scared the crap out of students, and I was definitely in that camp during my beginning algebra class. I dreaded going to that class every day. However, years later, I still remember basic algebra better than any other math subject I had after that.
I was thinking of other bits of Hurst wisdom from that time, and another instance came to mind that turned out to be 100% accurate. Buzz mentioned that being on a fencing team was unusual and that it could make a candidate for a job stand out from a big batch of applicants. After I landed my first teaching gig, my office mate, who was on my hiring committee, said that he was intrigued by my mention of fencing in college. After reading that, he thought, “I want to meet this guy.” And so I launched my academic career!
Cheers to Buzz for that one…:-)
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