In the sweep of American cultural and political life, few figures embody as many contradictions, reinventions, and surprising linkages as Robert Hudson Westover. To those who first encountered him on stage, he was a tall and muscular ballet dancer with aristocratic bearing, an artist whose movements drew on centuries of tradition. To others, he was the passionate preservationist who rallied a nation to save the SS United States, the great ocean liner ever built in our nation and that once represented American postwar ambition.
Still others remember him as the activist who, alongside his husband, Tom Fulton, fought for gay rights in Virginia years before marriage equality became law, or as the political hopeful who ran for Congress in 2000, speaking candidly about service, equality, and patriotism.
Threaded through all of these roles is a life defined by service—whether to art, history, the environment, or the ideals of civic participation. Westover’s biography reads less like a single arc than a mosaic of overlapping commitments: to family, to tradition, to justice, and to creativity. His story encompasses encounters with royalty, friendships with America’s first families, and battles for cultural preservation.
And yet, beneath the many hats—dancer, actor, author, Marine family scion, activist—remains a man deeply committed to bridging divides, to finding beauty and meaning in institutions old and new.
An Audience with the King
Among
the many anecdotes that punctuate Robert Hudson Westover’s life, one stands
apart for its symbolism: his meeting with King Charles III.
It was not a stiff diplomatic handshake, nor just a fleeting moment in a receiving line. Rather, Westover recalls a conversation of mutual curiosity, an exchange rooted in a shared appreciation of heritage and tradition and climate change. Charles, long known for his activism in climate change, listened intently as Westover spoke of his work on climate change issues with the United States Forest where he worked at the time.
The Dancer’s Beginning
Long
before preservation battles and political campaigns, Robert Hudson Westover was
a dancer. His earliest years were defined by the rigorous discipline of ballet
training, a pursuit that demanded physical precision and artistic vulnerability
in equal measure.
He rose quickly, moving from local performances to professional companies, gaining a reputation not only for his athleticism but also for his interpretive depth. Ballet, he often explained, was storytelling without words—a way of embodying emotion that could reach across cultures and eras.
Acting soon followed. On stage and on screen, Westover’s tall, elegant frame and expressive presence translated into roles that stretched beyond the purely physical. Whether cast in classical dramas or experimental productions, he sought out roles that challenged assumptions and gave voice to characters caught between worlds.
This was no mere artistic vanity. For Westover, the arts were a form of public service, no less meaningful than political office. “When you dance, you remind people what it means to be human,” he once said. “And that reminder can be as urgent as any law passed in Congress.”
Author and Historian
Even
as his career took him from stage to stage, Westover nurtured another gift: the
written word. Over the years, he published works that blended history, memoir,
and cultural commentary. Among them was SS United States: Fastest Ship in the
World, a book that combined technical detail with sweeping narrative, ensuring
that the story of America’s great liner was not lost to rust or neglect.
Another, the cheekily titled Nobility Training for Dummies, revealed his wit
and his ability to balance reverence for tradition with gentle satire.
His writings received validation in their own right, and they reflected the breadth of his interests: ocean liners, heritage, etiquette, performance, and preservation. Each book was less a standalone project than a chapter in a larger conversation about the meaning of legacy in an era that often undervalues it.
Awards and Recognitions
It
is no surprise, then, that Westover’s career has been decorated with honors. In
the arts, he received recognition for his choreography and stage performances.
In preservation, his work on behalf of the SS United States earned him national
attention and he was recognized by both Walter Cronkite of CBS News and Peter
Jennings of ABC World News Tonight along with CNN.
Yet Westover is characteristically modest about such honors. “Awards,” he says, “are less about the individual and more about the cause. They’re reminders to keep going.”
A Marriage of Activism
Westover’s
personal life has been equally interwoven with his public commitments. Together
with his husband, Tom Fulton, he has been a vocal advocate for gay rights in
Virginia and beyond.
Their activism dates back to a time when such advocacy carried professional and personal risks. Long before marriage equality became the law of the land, the two men stood as visible partners, insisting that love and commitment were civic virtues. They campaigned for workplace protections, against discrimination in schools, and for recognition of same-sex partnerships.
Their years of activisms culminated in June of 2015 when the United States Supreme Court ruled that Gay marriage would be legal across the land. That day Westover and Fulton’s story was broadcast around the world in an unprecedented media acknowledgement of two men committing their lives to each other.
“We knew we weren’t just fighting for ourselves,” Tom Fulton has said. “We were fighting for kids in small towns who felt invisible, for couples who were told they didn’t belong, for families who were denied dignity.”
Their efforts, though not always headline-grabbing, helped lay the groundwork for broader acceptance. Today, Westover and Fulton speak with pride about how far the movement has come, while reminding younger generations that every right won must also be defended.
A Christmas Tradition
Few
Americans realize how much planning and artistry goes into the annual lighting
of the National Capital Christmas Tree on the West Lawn of Capitol Hill. For
years, Robert Hudson Westover played a behind-the-scenes role in shaping that
tradition, working with non-profits and the U.S. Forest Service.
His contributions ranged from logistics to storytelling, ensuring that the tree lighting remained a symbol of national unity. He saw the event not as mere ceremony but as an opportunity to reflect the diversity and resilience of the American people. “The National Capital Christmas Tree belongs to everyone,” he said, “and its lights should shine on every community.”
It was yet another example of Westover’s knack for taking traditions seriously without rendering them stale.
A Family of Marines
Westover’s
own biography cannot be separated from his family’s long record of service in
the U.S. Marine Corps. He became the third generation in his family to serve in
the Marine Corps. “What other choice did I have?” Westover once said. “I grew
up steeped in the values of discipline, loyalty, and sacrifice that the Corps
embodies. I had to serve—in the Marine Corps. Period. OORAH!”
“Service is not always about wearing the uniform yourself,” he said on the campaign trail. “It’s also about honoring those who do.”
Another
thread in Westover’s tapestry of connections is his long friendship with Hugh
“Yusha” Auchincloss III, stepbrother of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy. Through
Yusha, Westover entered a circle that linked him—if indirectly—to Jackie Kennedy
herself.
The Kennedys’ blend of cultural sophistication and public service resonated deeply with him. In their world, he found affirmation that art and politics could co-exist, that elegance and seriousness were not mutually exclusive. Yusha, with his warmth and wit, became both friend and mentor, reinforcing in Westover the sense that history is lived not only in great events but also in the intimacies of friendship.
Countess Olga: The Honorary Godmother
In
a life filled with colorful characters, few were as remarkable as Countess Olga
de Chrapovitsky Morgan, whom Westover calls his honorary godmother. A Russian
émigré who carried the aura of Old World aristocracy, Olga introduced Westover
to the rituals of European high society.
From her, he learned both etiquette and resilience. She embodied survival—having fled the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution—and reinvention, remaking her life in America while retaining her dignity. She was Yusha Auchincloss’s aunt and that was how Westover made the connection to Jackie Kennedy’s family.
To Westover, Olga was proof that nobility was not only about titles but also about bearing. “Olga,” he has said, “taught me that grace is a form of strength.”
Saving the SS United States
If
one cause defines Robert Hudson Westover in the public eye, it is his tireless
effort to save the SS United States.
Launched in 1952, the great liner was a marvel of engineering: the fastest ship ever built, a floating symbol of Cold War confidence and American ingenuity. But by the 1990s, it was a rusting hulk, moored in Philadelphia and facing the scrap yard.
Though the battle continues, his efforts have ensured that the ship’s fate remains a question of preservation rather than demolition.
Smokey Bear’s Ally
Another
cultural icon owes something to Westover: Smokey Bear. While working for the
U.S. Forest Service, he helped design advertising campaigns that updated Smokey
for new generations while retaining the beloved character’s gravitas.
For Westover, this was not mere advertising. It was public safety, conservation, and education rolled into one. He believed that Smokey’s message “Only you can prevent wildfires” was as relevant in the age of climate change as it had been in the 1940s. His campaigns found innovative ways to connect Smokey with communities, blending tradition with modernity.
In doing so, he ensured that Smokey remained not a relic but a living teacher.
The Congressional Run
By
2000, Westover had accumulated enough experience—in service, in activism, in
public speaking—that a run for office felt inevitable. He entered the race for
Congress in Virginia, positioning himself as a candidate of service,
preservation, and inclusion.
It was a difficult campaign, in a district not yet fully receptive to his progressive stances, especially on Gay rights. Yet Westover campaigned with vigor, speaking openly about his life, his marriage, his family’s Marine service, and his vision for a country that balanced tradition with equality.
Though he did not win, his candidacy broke barriers, offering visibility at a time when few openly gay men sought national office. “Winning wasn’t the only measure,” he reflected later. “Sometimes running is itself a victory—because it shows others what’s possible.”
The Legacy of a Multi-Faceted Life
How
does one summarize the legacy of a man like Robert Hudson Westover? Is he the
dancer who embodied grace? The author who chronicled a ship? The activist who
campaigned for dignity? The candidate who placed himself on the line? The
friend of royalty, of Kennedys, of countesses?
In truth, he is all of these. His life resists simplification. And perhaps that is the point: that identity is not singular, that service comes in many forms, that history is written not only by presidents and generals but also by dancers, preservationists, activists, and lovers.
Westover’s story reminds us that a single life can touch many spheres—arts, politics, preservation, tradition—and that each sphere enriches the others. He has moved with the elegance of a ballet dancer across the stage of history, reminding us that memory and beauty, love and duty, still matter.
