OPINION: Changing name of post is hard, but community can embrace it

Fort Hood was named for Gen. John Bell Hood, a Confederate military officer who headed up the Texas Brigade.

The post’s new name pays homage to Gen. Richard Cavazos, the Army’s first four-star Hispanic general. who served as III Corps and Fort Hood commander from 1980 to 1982. He died in 2017.

Now that the news is official, the main question that remains is how the local community will respond to the name change.

It’s understandable that many local residents — especially those who served or held commands here — would be resentful of the switch.

Fort Hood, which was first established as Camp Hood during World War II, has been around for 80 years. During that time, it has deployed and welcomed home service members from conflicts in Europe, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.

And hundreds of Fort Hood’s soldiers sacrificed their lives in defense of our nation.

Thousands of babies were born at Fort Hood’s Darnall Army Community Hospital, which later evolved to Darnall Army Medical Center. And thousands of children were educated in Fort Hood schools.

The post is the largest military installation in the country, and the name Fort Hood has been synonymous with its established size and strength.

For a sizable percentage of veterans and civilians alike, the current name is fine, and there is no good reason to change it.

In an unofficial online poll taken from Oct. 9-15, the Herald asked whether the community will quickly accept Fort Hood’s name change to Fort Cavazos when it takes effect in 2024.

As of 5 p.m. Friday, 548 people had responded — and 78% chose the two “no” answers in the poll.

About 17% said the change would be difficult for veterans who served at Fort Hood.

More than 61% said the change is seen by some as unnecessary and an example of cancel culture.

Those numbers are telling, especially the second one. The question of removing elements of our nation’s historical past from our daily life has been one of strong contention for years, and it shows no signs of fading into the background.

Certainly, in the abstract, there may be nothing wrong with the name Fort Hood.

However, to many in and out of the military, the post’s Confederate ties serve as a painful reminder of the Confederacy’s legacy of slavery, subjugation and inequality. To continue to ignore this reality is a disservice to Black service members, their families, and the minority community at-large.

But more importantly, blindly ignoring the history behind the name serves to diminish the post and the surrounding community — and that is unacceptable.

As Secretary Austin said in his announcement last week, “The names of these installations and facilities should inspire all those who call them home, fully reflect the history and the values of the United States, and commemorate the best of the republic that we are all sworn to protect.”

Rather than criticize the pending name change as an example of politically correct overreach or cancel culture, let’s see it for what it really is.

The effort that led to the name change was not a conservative or liberal initiative. It was a bipartisan congressional initiative.

A large majority of Democrats and Republicans pushed it through as part of the National Defense Authorization Act at the tail end of 2020, ultimately overriding then-President Trump’s veto.

And rather than lamenting what the community is losing in the established name of Fort Hood, perhaps a better approach would be to celebrate the area’s new tradition.

In many ways, Richard Cavazos exemplified what is right about our nation.

He was born during the Great Depression on his family’s Texas ranch in South Texas. Right after high school, he enrolled in the ROTC program at what is now Texas Tech University. During the Korean War, he distinguished himself as he returned to a raging battlefield five times to retrieve his fellow wounded soldiers, according to the Naming Commission. For his actions, he earned the Distinguished Service Cross, the nation’s second-highest military honor for valor.

He subsequently returned to his original ROTC program, but as a professor of military science. He returned to the battlefield during the Vietnam War, frequently leading the front of his infantry battalion. His actions in Vietnam earned him another service cross.

In all, Cavazos earned two Distinguished Service Crosses, a Silver Star Medal, two Legion of Merit awards, five Bronze Star Medals for Valor, a Purple Heart Medal, a Combat Infantry Badge and a Parachutist Badge.

As a military leader, Cavazos wasn’t just respected by his peers and those under his command. He was revered.

Already, an elementary school in Nolanville bears his name.

Naming the Army’s largest post after such a dedicated, brave and principled leader won’t erase the legacy of Fort Hood; it will only enhance it.

Fort Hood and the Central Texas region have forged a strong bond over the past 80 years, and many Army commanders have commented on the tremendous level of support they experienced while serving at what is often called “The Great Place.”

Changing the post’s name to Cavazos won’t change that dynamic, nor should it.

Nor should renaming Fort Hood erase the decades of honorable service rendered by the brave men and women who have marched under its guidons.

But now is the time to embrace a new chapter in the history of our post and our community.

Certainly, there will be some big adjustments to make, from the name of the regional airport, to the names of several businesses and civic groups — even our weekly military publication, The Fort Hood Herald.

But we can and should acknowledge these changes, while honoring and celebrating the dedication, service and sacrifice that has marked our local Army post for the past 80 years.

Change can be difficult — especially when your longtime identity is at stake.

It may not be easy, but as a community, we can do this.

It’s just going to take a little time.