Keith Wassung
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As I was typing in my high school dead lift story a few days ago, it reminded me of another dead lifting story that I thought I would share. In 1985, I was stationed in Charleston, SC in the U.S. Navy and the base sports director suggested I submit an application to attend the Navy Power lifting Camp and then compete in the All-Navy Championships and then from there the Armed Forces Championships. It was a comprehensive package, had to include copies of meet results, photos, letters from my CO, letters from meet directors, essentially you had to document that you were qualified to attend the camp and then the tryouts for the team. I was accepted and flew out to Port Hueneme, CA at the Pt. Magu Naval Air Station where the camp was being held. There were about 40 lifters that had been invited and they arrived over about a two day period. I was the second one there and I showed up at the base gym and met with the host director, got my room assignments, etc. There was another guy there, a little taller than me, but wide and thick, the proverbial brick s-house. He introduced himself as Brad and asked me if I wanted to be his room mate. I agreed and we went off to the barracks. Along the way we were talking about lifting and he was telling me about his competitions, what he could lift, etc. he was a 181 ( I was a 198 at the time) and his lifts were very impressive. He was squatting low sixes, dead lifting 650 and benching around 400. He had won a couple of national teenage titles and had even won a state title at the age of 20. We got to the room and put our stuff away and all of a sudden I noticed his long sleeve hooded sweatshirt, it was California and though it was winter, the temps were at least in the middle 80