Skip Navigation

From Dr. Robert Kelch

Executive Vice President of Medical Affairs, University of Michigan
Chief Executive Officer, University of Michigan Health System

Dr. Kelch's Web site

June 27

Memorial Speech

I want to talk today about six courageous men. But before I do that, before I talk about individuals, I want to talk about teams – this team.

If you’ve ever been part of an exceptional team, you know there is something a bit magic in it.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s on the baseball diamond, in a community center or in a hectic workplace. When people click, there’s nothing like it. And you know it the moment you encounter it. It’s different, it’s special – you can feel it every time you walk through the door and connect with your teammates. The connection invigorates you, the bond comforts you. It feels like going home, like family – without the bickering.

There is a real closeness and genuine trust that comes with being part of an exceptional team, and it happens because first, you share a love of mission. You quickly realize that these people care as deeply as you do about your common goal, your singular task. They are driven in the same way you are, they insist on excellence in the same way you do. People who are part of exceptional teams worry little about personal recognition, and focus greatly on team success. If you are fortunate enough to have teammates such as those I’ve just described – such as the six men we lost -- I have a bit of advice for you: Perform for them. Rely on them. Cherish them. Sometimes, they will need you to pick them up. Do it. Other times, it will be you who needs a hand – take it. Such shared commitment often breeds tremendous camaraderie and deep friendship. And as with any friends, when things don’t go well for one – you all feel it. And when disaster strikes, you all ache.

It is a unique experience when you work in a highly stressful environment such as ours – one in which lives are on the line every day. People outside our environment sometimes believe that because we deal with life and death situations routinely, we grow hardened to it, “get used to it.” Anyone who knows us knows that couldn’t be further from the truth. We are as devastated by loss as anyone. We mourn as deeply and painfully as everyone. What sets us apart, perhaps, is that we learn that even while we’re suffering a tremendous blow, we must continue – not tomorrow or the next day, but right now. Someone needs us now – and so we act. Someone needs our help – and so we help. We carry on with our work not “the best we can given the circumstances”, but the very best we can – period. We do not let anything diminish our efforts -- ever. We go on because our love for our mission is so strong, so solid.

Just days after the loss of our beloved team, I walked through Survival Flight and the Transplant Center to see how folks were doing, to share thoughts and to console each other. I met the gentleman in Survival Flight dispatch who took the first call the night we were alerted the crash had occurred. It was a busy moment in dispatch while I was there, and he had to continue to take calls while we talked – and he did so with great skill and care. He was steady and unruffled. As I stood up to leave, I put my hand on his shoulder

I looked into his face and I saw tears streaming down his cheeks. And yet, he had kept on working with proficiency. I saw the same thing a dozen times during my visit to both areas: People working through tears. Why? Because the six dedicated team members who died left dozens of heroic team members behind – people who have the same love of mission, the same commitment, the same selflessness. I was awed – and humbled – by their strength and resiliency. They are utterly amazing.

There were many uplifting moments during my visit, as people were eager to share warm memories of their lost team members. I learned a great about them – how much they were loved, what they stood for, how dedicated they were to their work. Let me give you some details about these men:

David Ashburn joined the University of Michigan in 2005 as a resident in pediatric cardiothoracic surgery. He was set to begin a fellowship at U-M in pediatric cardiovascular surgery this month.

David was born and raised in Bristol, Tennessee, and graduated from Quillen College of Medicine at East Tennessee State University. He completed an internship and residency in general surgery at Wake Forest University, a congenital heart surgery fellowship at the Hospital for Sick Children, and then served as chief resident at Wake Forest's Bowman Gray campus before coming to the U-M.

He was a man of many interests: A skilled surgeon, an Eagle Scout and a turkey hunter.

Friends and colleagues said he was outgoing and fun-loving – and always felt his role was that of healer. David is survived by his wife, Candice, and their children Maddie, Annabelle and David II; and his parents, Marie and Alan Ashburn.

Richard Chenault II joined the University of Michigan in 1985 as a laboratory assistant for the Department of Pediatrics, later serving as a transplant donation specialist with our Transplant Program.

Richard was so passionate about his work that in 2006 he received the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ distinguished Medal of Honor for his efforts to increase organ donation at U-M, and was part of a team that helped achieve an organ donation rate of more than 75 percent.

Richard attended Spring Arbor College and Eastern Michigan University. An All-American in both the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics and the National Christian College Athletic Association, he shared his love of sports with hundreds of students whom he coached in girls’ track and cross-country at Father Gabriel Richard High School in Ann Arbor, for which he received Coach of the Year awards.
Richard is survived by his wife, Janet, and his two children, Kayla and Adrian; and his parents Berna and Richard Chenault, Sr.

Dennis Hoyes was a pilot with Marlin Air and an adjunct faculty member in aviation at Jackson Community College, where he served on the College’s aviation advisory committee and gave flying lessons to about anyone who asked.

He also was a volunteer pilot for Wings of Mercy, which provides free air transportation to patients with limited income who need to travel far distances for medical treatment.

An avid outdoorsman, Dennis relished the time he spent with his grandchildren and enjoyed taking them to Michigan State University hockey games, ice skating and on big lake fishing rips.

Dennis is survived by his wife of 35 years, Vanyce; his five children Brian, Brad, Robin, Tammy, and Kimberly; and his seven grandchildren Alicia, Brittney, Ryan, Jordan, Bryce, Adam, and Delaney.

Ricky LaPensee joined the U-M Transplant Program as a part-time transplant donation specialist in 2005. He also served as a firefighter with the Ypsilanti Fire Department.

Ricky knew at the age of 3 that he wanted to be a firefighter, donning a plastic fire hat and saying, “Gotta go,” each time the fire station across the street from his home would sound its alarms. His passion never abated, and in addition to being a firefighter, he collected model fire trucks.

Ricky graduated from Eastern Michigan University with a bachelor’s degree in public safety. He was pursuing a master’s degree in emergency management at EMU.

Friends and coworkers said he was driven by his passion to be of service to mankind. He also was a jokester, and loved to play pranks.

Ricky is survived by Claudia, his wife of 23 years; his two sons, Brendan and Derrick; his parents, Lulu and Sonny LaPensee; and his extended family at the Ypsilanti Fire Department.

William Serra, or Bill as his colleagues called him, was Marlin Air’s chief pilot and check airman. Friends and colleagues remember the Macomb Township resident as a family man with a wry sense of humor who enjoyed his work and would go out of his way to help people.

Serra became a pilot shortly after serving in the U.S. military. With more than 12,000 hours of flight under his belt as a full-time pilot, including flying DC8s and 747s, he had a long track record of accomplishments. He received the Air Medal from the President of the United States for outstanding achievements while participating in aerial flights, and the 1993 Air Force Desert Storm and Desert Shield award as a civilian pilot for supplying materials and ammunition during Desert Storm.

In an interview with the Detroit News, Serra’s son, William Serra Jr., said, “He touched the lives of everybody he met and he just cared for people. That’s how he would have liked to be remembered.”

Bill is survived by his wife, Deborah; son, William Jr.; and daughters, Christine and Jennifer.

Martin Spoor set his sights on medicine early: He decided at age 8 that he wanted to be a doctor and insisted that his Snoopy doll be addressed as “Doctor.” At age 12, he decided to be a heart surgeon and never looked back at any other calling or occupation.

Spoor worked as a counselor for several years in the Rocky Mountains where his job was hiking, swimming, horseback-riding and conducting canoeing trips with 6- to 16-year-olds. He met his wife Susan while at the University of Calgary Medical School, and introduced her to the mountains.

Friends and family alike describe Spoor as a natural, gentle, fun, loving father. In July 2003, Martin took a fellowship position in U-M’s Department of Cardiac Surgery where he always said he felt welcomed and at home.

Martin is survived by his wife, Susan Torrible, and their three young children; and his parents Johan and Susan Spoor.

David, Richard, Dennis, Ricky, Bill and Martin: Your commitment, skill, and most of all, your friendship, is missed every day – and that will never change. But, the sense of team you brought to the Health System – a truly exceptional team – lives on. And that, too, will never change.

In recognition of the tremendous contributions these six men made, we will commission a work of art, which will be prominently displayed in our Health System. It will be a constant reminder of the incredible mark you left on our institution. Your work is the essence of why people turn to us for their care.

In addition, we have set up six endowments, named for each of the team members we lost. The families will select how those endowments will be used to benefit others and honor their loved one.

June 8, 10:30 a.m.

A glimmer of hope at the end of a tragic week as lung transplant patient recovers from surgery

At the end of what has been among the most tragic weeks in our U-M Health System’s history, there was a glimmer of hope for the future. This morning, the patient who was unable to receive a double-lung transplant when the plane carrying his organs crashed into Lake Michigan, is recovering in University Hospital after being transplanted with a second set of lungs. He could be back home in several weeks.

The U-M Transplant Center team learned late June 5 that donor organs were available, and quickly began preparations for what they hoped would be a double-lung transplant operation for the 50-year-old Michigan man whose family has graciously allowed us to share details of the surgery but has asked that we not use his name.

Andrew C. Chang, M.D., surgical director of lung transplant and assistant professor of general thoracic surgery, and Christine Lau, M.D., assistant professor of general thoracic surgery, and their team - Jennifer Berry, transplant coordinator; Avedis Magar, transplant donation specialist; Francis Pagani, M.D., Ph.D., associate professor, Section of Cardiac Surgery; Jonathan Haft, M.D., assistant professor, Section of Cardiac Surgery; David Cooke, M.D., cardiothoracic surgical resident, Department of Internal Medicine; Janet Gedelian, senior surgical technologist; Debra Williamson, RN, BSN, staff nurse; Jeannine Roberge, RN, staff nurse; Tamela Radant, RN, staff nurse; Deborah Totzkay, RN, staff nurse; Anne Stone, RN, staff nurse; anesthesiologists Abraham Gaupp, M.D. , Sachin Kheterpal, M.D., and the ICU anesthesiology team; and Francina Devaughn, scrub technologist -- began the more than seven-hour surgery just after 8 p.m., June 6. It concluded early Thursday morning, June 7.

The organs were transported by chartered plane from the donor hospital to Willow Run Airport, where a U-M transplant donation specialist met the plane and transported the organs back to the U-M Health System by the Survival Flight helicopter.

“Although the patient remains in critical condition, he is significantly improved,” says Chang.

"We are relieved that we were able to do this transplant and give this man another chance for life. Our friends that died in the crash would have wanted us to go on with our work," says Jeffrey Punch, M.D., F.A.C.S., director of the Division of Transplantation.

“We’re so grateful this transplant has happened,” says a member of the patient’s family, who asked to remain anonymous. “We were devastated and heartbroken when we learned about the crash on Monday, not only for our family member, but for the families of those wonderful men who gave their lives to help him.”

Recovery from a double-lung transplant is an arduous process, but the surgery was successful and the patient is doing well - and that is an amazing first step.

This wonderful news doesn’t in any way relieve the acute pain we are feeling at the loss of our dedicated Survival Flight crew; what it does is remind us of the incredible work we are doing to help others in their greatest time of need. Once again, we are putting aside our own concerns to attend to those of others. And it is magnificent that this team has continued the work of our team that we lost. I couldn’t be more proud of our Transplant Center team, our Survival Flight team and the rest of the Health System faculty, staff and students who are making a huge difference in people’s lives. The past week is an eloquent example of just how important your work is to others. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Sincerely,
Bob Kelch

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

June 5, 6:15 p.m.

The loss of our Survival Flight/Transplant Team crew has been an overwhelming experience for all of us, and I know that it will take a great deal of strength to carry on our important work in the weeks to come. And yet I know we will, because it is what drives us all, what makes us the tremendous place we are. I thank you for your courage, and your dedication to our patients and their families.

The outpouring of grief, condolences, wishes and support that we have witnessed in our halls, at the employee gathering today and on our Web site has been extraordinarily moving. We have heard from colleagues, friends and patients - nearby and around the country -- all of whom have generously shared their stories about the way their lives have been touched by our crew: David Ashburn, M.D., Richard Chenault II, Dennis Hoyes, Ricky LaPensee, Bill Serra and Martinus (Martin) Spoor, M.D.

If you haven’t already, I invite you to visit the site to read some of the many comments, share your own and read more about those we have lost. It’s at www.med.umich.edu/survival_flight/update.

As you know, Monday’s tragic event occurred just as we were preparing to celebrate a momentous occasion in our institution’s history: the opening of our new Cardiovascular Center. To experience such sorrow during a time of such joy is truly difficult for all of us, and especially for the CVC team.

Soon after the crash, the center’s directors and I decided to postpone two celebratory dinners that had been planned for this evening and Wednesday night. But we struggled with the question of what to do about Thursday’s grand opening event for the U-M and Ann Arbor community.

In the end, we turned to the families of our Survival Flight/Transplant Team crew, asking them for guidance. They urged us to proceed with Thursday afternoon’s event, saying that is what our team would have wanted. The Survival Flight/Transplant Team team dedicated their lives to saving the lives of others. And that is the same mission to which hundreds of Cardiovascular Center faculty, staff and students have dedicated themselves. To recognize that is a fitting tribute to our lost colleagues.

We will dedicate Thursday’s event to their memory, and pause to remember them, of course. And we will showcase our remarkable new facility and celebrate the same sense of teamwork and dedication that drives everything we do here at the Health System. I hope you will join us in the west gardens of the CVC at 2 p.m. for a ceremony, or on tours of the facility throughout the afternoon.

Sincerely,
Bob Kelch

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

June 5, 11 a.m.

We are faced today with some devastating news. We have been holding out hope that the search and rescue mission for our Survival Flight family members would have a happy ending, and that our crew would soon be returned safely to us.

But the mission, we were told this morning, has now become one of recovery, and there are no survivors of the crash.

We are devastated for the families of Dr. David Ashburn, Richard Chenault II, Dennis Hoyes, Ricky LaPensee, Bill Serra and Dr. Martin Spoor, and we send them our deepest and most sincere sympathies. Our thoughts continue to be with them and we will offer them all of the support we can during this tragic time.

We are also mourning as a Health System community. We are thousands of people who come together every day, saying to our patients ‘we can treat your illness,’ ‘we will help you recover,’ ‘we will work to return you to the life you knew.’

We are a place of strength and optimism, of determination and knowledge. The people who work here are people who believe – sometimes, against all odds – that they can help make a difference in a patient’s life. So it is particularly difficult when a place of hope, loses hope. But that is what happened this morning when we learned that our crew was not coming home to us.

Despite valiant, tireless efforts on the part of the U.S. Coast Guard and many other emergency and rescue agencies, for which we are extraordinarily grateful – we now know that our team is lost.

This is a tremendous blow to our institution, and one from which we won’t quickly or easily recover. For now, we must do as all families do in times of crisis, and that is to reach out to each other, to console each other, to come together and help each other through this trying time. And that is what we are doing. See the information below for details on what is available to you.

We also will honor and remember the incredible contributions of our colleagues and friends David Ashburn, Richard Chenault II, Dennis Hoyes, Ricky LaPensee, Bill Serra and Martin Spoor, who died while trying to do what it is they do every day – helping someone else find hope.

Gathering for faculty and staff: 12:30 today; MCHC auditorium

A gathering for U-M faculty and staff is planned for today at 12:30 p.m. in the MCHC auditorium. This is a chance to grieve together and support one another through this difficult time. President Coleman, senior leaders and I will be there, as will representatives from Employee Assistance, Social Work and Pastoral Care to offer ongoing individual and group support, grief counseling and debriefings for staff.

Faculty and staff resources

Messages of condolence

Share your condolences or memories.

Memorial contributions

We have had a number of people ask about whether there is a fund to which they can make donations. We are consulting with the families of the crew to determine their wishes on this matter, and we will let you know details as we receive them.

Message from President Mary Sue Coleman

Read President Coleman's message.