Last night at about 3 a.m., I woke up to go to the bathroom. I used my phone to light my way, so as soon as my eyes adjusted, I noticed that my mom had sent me a death notice. My friend and neurosurgeon, Dr. Spencer Block – the guy who did my back surgery in 2011 – had died yesterday at age 51.
I spent the next several minutes confirming it was him. I think I forgot to go to the bathroom.
Just a few weeks ago, I sent Spencer a direct message on Twitter about grabbing lunch and catching up. Before that, he suggested we go to a future Brewers’ fantasy camp sometime. Twitter was how we’d communicate. I never knew his personal phone number, and he didn’t check his e-mail very often.
I’m not going to say that Spencer was my closest friend, but we were more than acquaintances. He read my stuff on OnMilwaukee.com, a fact I first learned when waking up from general anesthesia after my L5-S1 microdiscetomy in August 2011. After doing his rounds and checking how I was feeling, he smiled and said, "On, Milwaukee" as he walked away.
I don’t yet know how Spencer died, but he was tweeting just this week. I’d usually run into him at Brewers games – he performed surgery on both players and front office people during his career. He gave me a piece of cake when I came in for a follow-up appointment on his 50th birthday last year. He invited my family to a tailgate party he threw last season, and I accompanied him on the field at Miller Park to snap photos while he threw out the first pitch.
I do know that Spencer was an excellent surgeon. He was sometimes prickly. He was occasionally, deservedly and lightheartedly cocky. But he was a very funny and caring guy. I’m thankful that he didn’t paralyze me while cutting around my spinal cord. And he did many more important surgeries than mine during his career. While I didn’t know him well, I knew that he loved the Brewers, the Bears and his alma mater, the University of Michigan. He also loved Miami and traveling with his family. He always asked about mine.
And now, I won’t have the opportunity to get to know Spencer any better.
Recent events have really left me wondering why good people die so suddenly sometimes, and as much as I never know the answer to this question, these kind of incidents don’t make my understanding any more clear.
Right now, I can only think of two plausible answers:
- There is no reason
- The reason is to teach the people Spencer left behind a lesson
Until I know how he died, I’m not sure I’ll know that lesson, and even then, I’m not sure it will be clear. I do know that I could’ve done more to make that lunch happen, and I will for the next friend who I need to catch up with.
I know if he was reading this, Spencer would be amused and probably a little annoyed for this public shout-out. He loved his secret Twitter profile, and it took almost two years for him to reveal his secret identity to me. I’ll miss his wit, his calls, his tweets and his bedside manner. My deepest condolences to his family, friends and colleagues.
Andy is the president, publisher and founder of OnMilwaukee. He returned to Milwaukee in 1996 after living on the East Coast for nine years, where he wrote for The Dallas Morning News Washington Bureau and worked in the White House Office of Communications. He was also Associate Editor of The GW Hatchet, his college newspaper at The George Washington University.
Before launching OnMilwaukee.com in 1998 at age 23, he worked in public relations for two Milwaukee firms, most of the time daydreaming about starting his own publication.
Hobbies include running when he finds the time, fixing the rust on his '75 MGB, mowing the lawn at his cottage in the Northwoods, and making an annual pilgrimage to Phoenix for Brewers Spring Training.
