Posted by Karl Williams on June 6, 2005:

June 2, 2005 Douglas Sperandio June 5, 1963 - May 22, 2005 Last week, sitting in the middle of a conference room at work, surrounded by 20 people, an email came to my laptop entitled "FWD: Death Notification". Two quick clicks, a Google search I had my answer, Doug Sperandio, 41 years young, was killed in a freak accident at his home on the 20th anniversary of his graduation from West Point. Over then next two hours, I encountered a blizzard of emails followed by phone calls to friends all over the country. Doug was gone - a guy so full of life, so incredibly charismatic, someone so affable with any crowd he was nicknamed the chameleon, was no longer alive. The questions came like machine gun fire: how did he die, was he married, did he have kids? I had no idea and felt guilty for not keeping tabs on a good friend. At that moment, I knew that I would travel to his memorial for I needed to know more about my friend that I had not seen or spoken to since I left the Army in 1990. Yesterday, I arrived at the church about 30 minutes early and was probably the first car in the lot. A minute later, a Ford Explorer pulls up next to my rental carrying a young wife and four kids. An 11 year old boy bounds out of the car, walks right up to me introduces himself as Ryan Sperandio, a supremely confident young man with a beaming smile. I saw he was proudly holding his father's USMA saber, encased in its protective felt satchel and in an instant my heart drops. Then came two lovely girls, 4 and 9 in pretty floral dresses, next appeared Jenny, Doug's wife who I met when they were dating at Ft. Rucker. After a very quick tremulous greeting she tends to a fourth child, a 3 year old boy who is sleeping in his car seat. Despite the circumstances, Jenny was radiant surrounded by four beautiful children, a pillar of strength as she led them lovingly into the church to say goodbye to their father. At this point all I could think of was my wife, my four kids that are similar in age, what if they were in this situation and I got remarkably sad. Then I found myself walking into a church with a bunch of West Pointers and assorted Army buddies from flight school - something I had done countless times in anticipation of numerous wedding celebrations, the big party, and the ensuing legions of memories of fun and frolic. But this time my entry into the house of worship didn't feel like a celebration for the life of a good friend had ended on earth. Inwardly, I did not feel like celebrating, for my friend was taken by God, and I knew nothing about the last 15 years of his existence. I felt inadequate that somehow I did not keep tabs or spend any time maintaining the relationship. My friend was gone and I had failed not only to say goodbye but even to exchange a simple Christmas card over 15 years. Then in the entry of the church I found myself staring at a large peg board mounted on an easel jammed with various photos of Doug Sperandio - each more lively then the previous, eyes ablaze, his smile literally jumping off the page. A huge variety of images colliding in my mind, Doug surrounded by his kids, holding them as babies, playing with them on the beach, lovingly embracing his wife even a picture of his nine year old?s birthday cake taken a little over a week ago. As I stood there, transfixed on these visions, synapses started firing in brain as memories of our friendship began unseating themselves from deep in the recesses of my mind. In the ensuing memorial service I came to learn that Doug, the unforgettable life force, had a very full life. Married to Jenny and father of 4 beautiful children, he served in Ft. Campbell and Germany spent 9 years in the Army as a pilot (AH1/AH64), instructor, and commander. He left the service, earned an MBA at UC Davis, and took to deftly managing his family's funds in the capital markets to the point of independence. With that, he chose to continue teaching - not over the plains of lower Alabama in rotary flight, but within in his precious household, as he home schooled his four children. I learned he loved to be creative and was a skilled potter and pianist, with the works of Chopin being his latest obsession. He and his wife purchased a home on 20 acres in Davis, California with spectacular vistas, complete with livestock and an old fashion tire swing in the front yard. He was the proud owner of an RV where he would take his family multi - month long trips, teaching the kids not only academics on the road, but integrating academic "field trips" across America. In my short visit I clearly witnessed that he was obviously a tremendous father and husband and I can only guess that his absence will be incalculably missed. During the next three hours consisting of a reception at the church followed by a gathering (a.k.a. party) at Doug and Jenny's home, I experienced a complete transformation in my mood. My sadness morphed into happiness. I saw friends I had not seen in years and shared details about Doug I thought I had long forgotten. Each story, laugh, hug and tear seemed to further crystallize my ebullient mood. I started to put the pressures and challenges I face daily into perspective and in an instant they seemed utterly trivial. I thought of my wife, my kids, my exceptional friends and thought how unbelievably blessed I am. With each memory that was recounted, my body released a targeted endorphin and ultimately, I knew why I had come. Even though Doug was not physically in the room - his spirit was there filling me with joy that I knew 15 years ago. As it think about it today, I visualize him leaning against the wall, watching his friends drink selections from his very fine wine collection and talk about old times. His spirit was definitely there - arms folded, head slightly cocked to the right with a big grin on his face - injecting a little bit of heaven into each of us present. I am writing this as your classmate, for in my hotel room last night I visited the Association of Graduates web site to learn that not only Doug has left us since graduation, but seven other of our classmates have also passed. I urge you to take a moment to reflect on your past and current friends - visit our class eulogy website (http://defender.west-point.org/service/eulogy/1,1123,usma1985,00.html) and freely share your thoughts. And, most importantly, the next time you learn of the unfortunate news that a member of the West Point Class of '85 has left this physical earth, consider attending the ceremony celebrating their life. You may get more out of it then you expect. I know I did. Yesterday, Doug's wife and Mother wanted to celebrate his life - they succeeded and I thank them for that gift. While not expected or requested, Jenny has set up two formal means to memorialize Doug. 1. A Survivor Specialty Savings account has been established at USAA Federal Savings Bank: c/o Jennifer Sperandio Account Number 27463923 USAA Federal Savings Bank 2. An alternative for gift giving in Doug's memory would be to any foundation supporting a cure for brain cancer, which claimed Doug's father. Lastly, your condolences can be sent to: Jennifer Sperandio 35828 Acadia Lane Davis, CA 95616 See you in October for our 20th ? Karl See you at our 20th, Karl

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