The BARRY DD-933 was the third of the FORREST SHERMAN class, built in the 1950’s, immediately following after the JPJ DD-932.

The BARRY's first CO, the late ADM Isaac (Ike) C. Kidd, was a classmate at the Naval Academy of JPJ DD-932’s first CO, the late CAPT Robert W. Hayler, Jr., both graduating in 1941.

Another of their classmates is retired CAPT Russell S. (Rusty) Crenshaw, the first CO of the lead ship of the class, FORREST SHERMAN DD-931, and author of Naval Shiphandling (4th Edition), which, for decades, was the Navy's bible for shiphandling.

Coincidentally, the current BARRY DDG-52 is a sister ship of the current JPJ DDG-53, which are the second and third ships of the ARLEIGH BURKE class of DDG's.

Another coincidence is that CAPT Hayler was slated to become the first CO of the FORREST SHERMAN, but Rusty Crenshaw asked CAPT Hayler if he would mind switching and taking command of the JPJ because Crenshaw was taking a course that would have interfered with the commissioning date of the JPJ, which is how CAPT Hayler became the first CO of the JPJ DD-932.

From the Washington Post, 7 May 2016

"Bye Barry": Washington bids farewell to an old destroyer

By Michael E. Ruane

A destroyer built in the 1950s is heading from the Washington Navy Yard to an inactive ship depot in Philadelphia. Washingtonians watched somberly as the USS Barry departed on its final voyage. (Twitter/Sam Harper)

They had cut down the masts, severed the underwater anchoring lines and adjusted the ballast to make the ship ride bow high.

The towing chain had been passed through the "bull nose" up front. The skeleton crew was on board. And the moon had provided a very high tide, with plenty of extra water under the keel.

At 7:38 a.m. Saturday, three powder-blue tugboats backed the former USS Barry away from Pier 2 at the Washington Navy Yard and into the Anacostia River for its final voyage.

"There she goes," said a man in the crowd that lined the boardwalk along the river to bid farewell to the old destroyer, which had served as a popular museum ship since 1983 and had been a fixture in the neighborhood.

"Bye, Barry," said another.

The former USS Barry, once a Navy destroyer, is towed down the Potomac River on its way to a ship graveyard at the former Navy base in Philadelphia. (Amanda Voisard/For the Washington Post)

Under a blue sky with broken clouds, the tugs got the ship into midstream and turned it to face downriver toward the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge.

For a moment they paused, waiting for the venerable swing bridge to pivot open. At 8:13 a.m. it did, and the entourage filed through.

The river was placid as the Barry began its 50-hour journey to be mothballed in Philadelphia. The surface was disturbed only by feeding fish, a few ducks and the churning from the tugs' propellers.

The 418-foot-long vessel, which has ties that stretch from Pearl Harbor to the Vietnam War, was powerless during the operation. Its engines were silenced long ago, its rudder locked in place, the Navy said.

Its final voyage was termed a "dead ship" tow.

"It's basically, at this point, a long hunk of metal that they're . . . towing through the water," said Lt. Luke J. Adams, the officer in charge of port operations at the Navy Yard.

But it cut a sleek profile with its sharp, angled bow and its bold hull number — 933 — as it was towed by the tugs Emily Ann, Meagan Ann and Thomas D. Witte of the Donjon Marine Co., which handled the job for the Navy.

Local resident, Anne Seymour, 58, waits on a dock near the Washington Navy Yard for the old Navy destroyer, the USS Barry, which has a storied history and has served as a museum ship at the Navy Yard since 1983. (Amanda Voisard/For the Washington Post)

A D.C. fireboat lofted a salute with its water cannons as the Barry passed. Nearby vessels sounded their horns.

And as the ship passed Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling, where the Anacostia meets the Potomac River, the strains of "Anchors Aweigh" drifted across the water from loudspeakers on shore.

"Very emotional," said Anne Seymour, who lived in the Navy Yard neighborhood in Southeast Washington and carried two American flags as she watched the ship leave.

"The Barry is a landmark institution in our hood," she said, as she stood on a nearby pier. "We love him. I've been here almost 26 years. . . . I've seen the neighborhood go through a lot of changes. The one thing that did not change was the USS Barry."

"Always here, always reliable," she said. "I'm very, very sad."

The Barry, a Forrest Sherman-class destroyer, was built at the Bath Iron Works, in Bath, Maine, in the mid-1950s and commissioned in 1956.

Its first skipper was Cmdr. Isaac C. Kidd Jr., whose father, Rear Adm. Isaac C. Kidd, was killed on the USS Arizona during the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941.

The Barry participated in the blockade of Cuba during the missile crisis of 1962, and in 1965 and 1966 served off Vietnam, firing on enemy coastal positions.

The ship was decommissioned in 1982 and stored in an inactive ship facility at the former Philadelphia Naval Shipyard.

The next year, it was brought to Washington to serve as a museum ship, and has since hosted hundreds of tours, ceremonies and sleepovers for Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts.

The ship had to be moved because plans for a new Douglass bridge called for an immovable span that would have locked the Barry on the river for good, the Navy said.

Cmdr. Joshua Collamer of the Naval Reserve, who works at the Pentagon, was in charge of the Barry from 2003 to 2005.

"It was a lot of fun," he said Saturday as he watched the ship depart.

He said he and his staff had found sailors' letters and pictures of girlfriends that had gotten lost on the ship over the years.

They discovered ship's china and silverware that had been locked up and left behind. "Nothing fancy," he said. "Just part of the life of the crew."

And they found artwork that sailors had left on the ship's interior — a portrait of a dragon and a large tank painted to look like a can of beer.

He said there was also an eerie sleeping area near a rear turret that his men found creepy. "The crew didn't like to go down there," he said. "They'd hear people or noises ... after hours. It's no joke."

"One of the guys came up to me and said, 'I was down there and I thought I heard somebody behind me, and I looked and there was nobody there,'" he said. "That aft berthing, they felt very uncomfortable about."

As for the destroyer itself, "it's a part of the Navy that's disappearing," he said. "This ship, the way its configured, the smell, the feel of it, the new ships don't have that. It's a different era. I was sad to see it go."

For its final journey, the Barry had a small crew that included Navy and towing company officials. "The last riders of the Barry," Gordon Lorenson, a Donjon Marine project manager who was aboard, said Friday.

Special pumps had been brought on board in case the ship took on too much water.

One of the tugs — the Emily Ann — was lashed to the back of the destroyer to push. The Meagan Ann picked up the towing chain, or "bridle," and pulled from the front. The third tug, the Thomas D. Witte, positioned the vessel.

Beyond Bolling, the vessels headed down the Potomac, passing Quantico around noon.

They were expected to reach the Chesapeake Bay on Sunday morning, Lorenson said via email Saturday.

The route then would take the vessels up the bay, through the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal to the Delaware River, and on to the same Philadelphia inactive ship depot the Barry had come from 33 years before.