On a Sunday morning after church in 2017, we observed Spencer, smiling, walking arm in arm with an elderly woman, bending low to chat to her - very patiently, carefully helping her get into her car. At the time, we assumed it was someone he knew from the Methodist Retirement Village where he had worked for a few years. Later at home, we asked him who the woman was that he had helped to her car. He said, “I have no idea. She just looked a little shaky and I asked if I could help her.” This simple, self-sacrificial act is a perfect example of how Spencer chose to live his life. Every day, he was reaching out to help or encourage someone without hesitation. We all learned how to be more loving, more giving, more servant-centered through our connection to Spencer.

 

When Spencer was in junior high, his science teacher called us in for a teacher/parent conference to talk about his grades. We were pretty nervous but the teacher immediately said “You know what? So what if Spencer gets a low grade in my class.” We were puzzled, but the teacher continued, “I would give up every one of my accomplishments and achievements to have the gift that Spencer has. He is literally a friend to everyone at this school. Even the mean kids who start out bullying him quickly become his staunch friends and protectors. Spencer loves so large, so unconditionally, so confidently, that everyone wants to be his best friend. Everyone loves Spencer because he gives himself and his love to them first.”

 

When he was three days old, we were told by doctors at Children’s Hospital in St. Louis that most children born with his rare skin disorder (Giant Congenital Nevus) don’t live past five years old. He certainly kept living - happily, joyfully, robustly – day after day, year after year. In his youth, doctors told us that if any of his Nevus skin ever transformed to melanoma, it would “sweep through him like a brush fire and take him within a few weeks.” His first challenge with melanoma occurred in 2013. It wasn’t a brush fire. He lived. After three grueling surgeries to get ahead of the stage 3 cancer, he beat it and “took back” his body with daily, intense exercise and weight lifting, transforming his body and his zest for life. He began chronicling his challenges with cancer and his physical transformation on YouTube (you should go find some of his videos if you need a dose of inspiration). In the summer of 2016, we learned that a nevus which had been benignly lurking on the lining of his brain had transformed to melanoma. We were told he had only a few months to live. But he kept living – happily, joyfully, robustly. And even though he was burdened by the outlook and by growing physical limitations, he continued to say, “Hey, I’m fine. So many people have bigger challenges than I do.” Even in his final conscious moments, he managed to hug and kiss his mom and reach up with both hands to pull his dad close and hug him and pat him on the back as if to say “I’ve got this. It’s all good. Don’t worry about me.”

 

During the final months of his life, thousands of people from around the world flocked to a Facebook Page called “Pray for Spencer Bacus,” and witnessed miracles, experienced God’s continual presence throughout the challenging journey, gained strength and compassion from the gracious example set by Spencer, came to a closer, more meaningful relationship with the Lord, drew strength from each other, learned to love more passionately, and discovered through Spencer’s example how to care unconditionally.

 

Spencer Keene Bacus, aged 24, an SIUE junior in the department of Applied Communication Studies; Fine Arts Fellow, honor thespian, accomplished actor and performer, versatile musician – pianist, woodwinds, guitar, vocalist; weightlifting and fitness enthusiast, beard aficionado, and best friend to everyone he met peacefully passed away on April 24, 2018 in the arms of his parents Mark and Debbie while surrounded by his brother Oliver and sisters Jolie and Noël, as well as close family and loved ones after a long, inspirational journey of living with cancer.

 

Because he is a statistical phenomenon, having lived so much longer than scientists data suggests, he has donated his full brain and spinal column to the world’s leading scholar in Nevus research with the hope that more can be learned about this rare disorder.