University of New England

Lizards, Space Launches, and a Little Bit of Picante Sauce: Ross Shauberger, UNECOM Class of '08

[Editor's Note: This profile appeared originally in the November 2005 COMmunicator.]

Ungrateful Lizards

The lizards never said “thank-you” when six-year old Ross Shauberger performed surgeries on them. But they didn’t file medical malpractice suits, either. Post-op was usually a small hole and a shovel-full of dirt. Little Ross was practicing to be a doctor.  1982 was not a good year to be a lizard in Texas.

That was then. Today, Ross Shauberger is president of the second year class. He is also a small drop of Picante sauce in a vast ocean of chilly New Englanders. Talk to him for even a moment and you catch a warm heart and a bashful Texas grin.

His drawl is disarming. His manners are impeccable. His service record is impressive. But he’s just a regular guy. How did this erstwhile lizard-doctor from the Lone-Star state arrive in Biddeford, Maine?

The Varsity Babysitter

His story begins in Liberty, Texas. Ross always knew he wanted to be a doctor. There were the lizards. You can ask him more about that on your own. There was also the time his uncle stopped by after having his appendix removed. Ross oogled the incision. He marveled that a human being could cut into another human being and have it turn out ok. The lizards had not fared so well. From that point on, young Shauberger was sold on doctoring. He never considered another path.

In high school, he was a three-sport letterman. He played baseball and ran track. Kids’ stuff, really.  Football was the main attraction, and Ross was pretty good. He played strong safety at Liberty High, a responsible position which required that he guard against the run while focusing on pass coverage. He ran a 4.6 40-yard dash, fast enough to usually chase down the lumbering hulks of men who posed as boys in the precocious world of Texas high-school football. The only state to ever be its own country, Texas takes football very, very seriously. And so did Ross. It became a three-season sport to him. Track and power-lifting helped keep him strong and speedy for the Friday night lights of fall. They also kept him busy. He didn’t have much time for social events, especially when you take into account his family situation.

Seven siblings share the Shauberger surname. Ross was the oldest, and so he rode herd over his younger brothers and sisters. Instead of going out on a Saturday, Ross would spend his time looking after the kids who looked up to him. The responsibility, says Ross, helped forge his character. “I had to know all the answers for my little brothers and sisters, and pretty soon everyone was looking to me. I didn’t consciously try to be a leader. I just was.” Some of his fondest childhood memories include spending time with his brothers and sisters and cousins. "These folks were more than just family," says Ross, "they were my friends." Whether at home, at church, or on the gridiron, Ross gravitated to leadership roles. His parents had instilled from an early age to be selfless and humble. Leadership to Ross was just another way to put others in front of himself.

As his high school career ended, college didn’t seem an immediate option. With six other children, Ross knew his parents couldn’t help him much financially. Moreover, he didn’t want to be a burden. So he weighed his options. “I asked my coach what my scholarship chances were. This is Texas, remember, where every week you play against guys who end up in the NFL. I wanted him to be honest. He looked me straight in the face and said, ‘Honestly? You’re done.’ I said, ‘Ok, what next?’”

The Wild Blue… and the Accident

Ross enlisted in the Air Force. He joined up first and foremost to serve his country, and his country helped him by training him as a combat medic. Lizards everywhere shuddered. But he had a natural affinity for all things medical, and soon he was stationed at Cape Canaveral, Florida, watching over shuttle launches as a first-responder. It was every little boy’s dream. Ross says, “At 2 am I would sit a mile from the shuttle as the boosters ignited and night was turned to day. We were there in case something blew up. Nothing ever did, and I just got to watch these incredible launches.” He also drove the ambulance in President Clinton’s motorcade. Heavy stuff. But this period was not without its sobering lessons.

There was the accident. It happened so fast. Ross's mom liked to show horses. As the family prepared for one show, Ross was leading his horse to the carrier when something made it spook. The horse reared up, its hooves kicking just inches from Ross's mom. In a split-second decision, Ross jerked the reigns and turned his horse in mid-air. The plunging hooves came down hard and trampled his own leg. Doctors removed most of his fibula in surgery. The net result? Ross gained one titanium rod, but lost much of his vaunted speed. He is grateful to be able to walk.

Two Rings, Two Loves

After his four-year hitch, Ross was ready to move on. The military offered a generous scholarship program, and the young Texan took advantage of it by enrolling in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M. He loves Texas A&M. According to Ross, it has "the largest ROTC program in the nation and has produced the most commissioned officers, the most generals and the most Medal of Honor winners of any school in the country apart from the military academies." Leadership continued to be a theme. Ross served as commander of his outfit as a senior, and out of 28 units, his outfit ranked number one. They received the Bruno Hochmuth award, which was one of Ross's proudest moments.

At A&M, pre-med classes honed his mind, but matters of the heart took center stage. A chunky ring on his finger connects him with Aggies all over the country, but a thin gold band on his left ring-finger binds him to his lovely wife. “I had known Stacie since I was in the 8th grade,” says Ross,  “but I didn’t really notice her until I got back from the Air Force. I took her out for a drive one night, and we drove around town for four hours. I’d gotten tired of the dating scene, being a military man and all, and I just told her point-blank: ‘I’m gonna marry you,’ and she looks at me and says, ‘Ok.’” Ross chuckles at this point and says, “I proposed more officially later.”

Within a couple of years, little Sadee was born: tiny, beautiful, and Ross’s pride and joy. She was an emergency C-section. Ross chokes up as he says, “I was out waiting and I heard her crying. The doctor was counting, ‘One, two, three, four, five,’ and I didn’t know what that meant. Turns out the umbilical cord had wrapped five times around Sadee’s neck. I walked over as she’s bawling there, and she looked up at me and I leaned over and said, ‘Daddy’s here,’ and she stopped crying.” He apologizes for his own tears, but there’s no shame. A true man feels what really matters.

The Appeal of the Maverick

Graduating from Texas A&M with a degree in biomedical science, Ross was also non-commissioned as an officer in the United States Air Force. He knew he wanted to be a doctor, but where would that lead? A little research revealed two options: allopathic or osteopathic medicine. Ross found the tenets of osteopathy intriguing: "I enjoy the fact that Andrew Taylor Still was a maverick in his day and has changed the face of medicine since. I believe that the human body truly has the ability to heal itself and that we all have a body, mind and spirit component." His path became clearer.

With osteopathy in mind, Ross then went through the usual gymnastics of the med-school application process. He says, "James Gaffney [coordinator of recruitment] was more than gracious when I called the school for more information in the fall of 2003. When I interviewed here, I knew this is where I wanted to make the transition from Mr. Shauberger to Dr. Shauberger."  UNECOM, for its part, seemed to like him, the admissions committee finding enough in his grades and service record to pique their interest. So he packed up his family, hit the hot Texas road, and arrived in the mild Maine of mid-July. Summer lasted about a week, as any native Mainer would tell you, and winter set in with a vengeance, or so it seemed to the warm-blooded Texan. He still hasn’t adapted to the cold.

Mr. President

What motivated Ross to run for class president? Joe Dessent, who had been class president the year before, was a good friend. When Joe ran for SGA president, Ross knew that someone needed to step up to carry on the good things that Joe had accomplished. When asked about his goals as class president, Ross combines the noble with the pragmatic, as every good leader must: "I hope to facilitate the continued 'ésprit de corps' that our class possesses," he says, "but my number one goal is to help everyone in the class pass the boards." Amen.

One of the challenges Ross faces as class president is the inability to lead like he did in the military. There is no boot camp here, no chain of command, no possibility of court-martial or firing squad to motivate compliance. But there are other ways to achieve class cohesion. There is the bond of shared misery, and of sleepless nights and long hours of lecture. Gross Anatomy and the fear of Neurology act as cigar-chomping drill instructors to unite each new class. The Class of 2008 has its own sense of unity.

Ignore Those Lizards

Ross Shauberger wants to serve other human beings. He intends to do his residency in the military, serve out twenty years in the service, and then set up a primary care practice in (where else?) Texas. In the meantime, his tour here at UNECOM is service laced with academics. He works hard, and he’s really tired, or “tard,” as Ross says. But he’s also learned the importance of setting boundaries to break up the waves of academic stress. He knows what’s important, and that knowledge helps him keep an even keel through the challenges of medical school. Family time is important, so every day he goes home for dinner, spends time with Stacie and Sadee, and then drives back to Alfond to study until midnight. Worship time is also important, and Sundays are usually a day of rest.

 The balance seems to work quite well for this busy president, and he is able to focus on serving others instead of himself. It is the mark of a good leader, and it will be the hallmark of his life as a physician, husband, and father.  Ross Shauberger seems to have all the makings of a fine osteopathic physician.

Despite what the lizards might say.

- Steve Smith, RSAS