Robert Hudson Westover: A Life Between Stage and Story

 

 A biography by CHAT GPT (I think it likes me!)

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.

"His Majesty seemed to understand my warrior spirit immediately,” Westover has said. “Two men from different nations, united in the belief that the environment must be managed properly if we are to progress and thrive as a species.”

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.

His work as the National Program lead with the U.S. Forest Service on the Smokey Bear campaign garnered accolades from advertising and conservation bodies alike. His work on “America’s First Bears” many birthday campaigns won him a Golden Smokey award. Working with celebrities like Betty White and Arnold Schwarzenegger were once in a lifetime experience for Westover and he garnered worldwide media attention for his efforts.

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!”

He has often spoken of how his relatives’ deployments and victory in battle shaped his worldview, instilling both pride and a sober awareness of the costs of military service. His own advocacy for veterans’ rights during his Congressional campaign reflected this background.

“Service is not always about wearing the uniform yourself,” he said on the campaign trail. “It’s also about honoring those who do.”

 In the Kennedy Circle

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.

Westover threw himself into the campaign to preserve it, raising awareness, rallying donors, listing the ship on the National Register of Historic Places--convincing skeptics that the ship was worth saving. He argued that the United States was more than steel and rivets: it was memory, aspiration, a national cathedral afloat. His book, speeches, and tireless advocacy helped keep the ship in the public eye, transforming it from a forgotten relic into a subject of national debate.

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.