WASHINGTON (AFNS) –
(This feature is part of the "Through Airmen's
Eyes" series. These stories focus on individual Airmen, highlighting their
Air Force story.)
In the early 1970s, America was at a crossroads. The Vietnam
War raged on, seemingly with no end in sight, and many Americans felt forced to
choose to either support the administration or protest the conflict, which left
many families across the nation bitterly divided.
In 1970, when U.S. forces launched an invasion into Cambodia
to attack North Vietnamese bases, widespread peace protests ignited across
America. As protesters flocked to Washington D.C., and veterans spoke out
against the war, there was arguably never a more unpopular time for America’s
youth to join the military.
But somehow, in 1971, a young Larry O. Spencer found himself
walking into Iverson Mall in Temple Hills, Md. A few months after graduating
from Central High School, where he excelled in athletics, in Prince George’s
County, Spencer caught the attention of many college football coaches. Letters
poured into the Spencer mailbox with scholarship offers and the phone continually
rang with excited coaches on the other end who described visions of Spencer
playing football for their university. Instead, Spencer spurned every offer and
opted to play football for a nearby semi-professional football team.
As he strolled through the mall, he found himself looking up
at the Air Force recruiter’s sign. To this day, Spencer can’t recall the reason
he opened the doors and walked in, but when he walked out a few hours later, he
had enlisted in the Air Force.
“Amongst all of my friends, most of us didn’t want to join
the military, but it was one of those things that if you’re going to join one
service, join the Air Force,” said Spencer, who will soon retire as the Air
Force’s vice chief of staff after a 44-year career.
Understandably, Spencer’s parents, Alfonzo and Selma, were
shocked when their son broke the news.
“I had an Afro like you wouldn’t believe, and I never shaved
at all in high school. I fit the part of a hippie,” Spencer said. “They thought
I was a lost cause.”
Spencer’s parents didn’t realize it at the time, but the
seeds of their son’s future success had been planted years before.
The tobacco farm
Spencer’s father, Alfonzo, was raised in southwestern Va.,
about 20 miles south of Appomattox, where he and his siblings worked tirelessly
on their father’s tobacco farm. As Spencer described it, his father’s only
escape was to join the military. As soon as he was able, Alfonzo enlisted in
the Army, where he was trained as a heavy equipment operator and was assigned
to an Army post in Japan before the Korean War.
When the war began, Alfonzo deployed to Korea, and one day,
while driving a bulldozer to the town of Yechon, Korea, Alfonzo somehow fell
underneath the machine. During the fall, his left hand was caught in the gears,
causing severe injuries. Alfonzo was stranded for several days before being
rescued; his hand became infected, eventually causing gangrene. He fell into a
coma and was shipped back to Japan, where he was put in an iron lung and
doctors were forced to amputate his injured hand.
Unlike many service members at the time, Alfonzo was allowed
to remain on active duty and was reassigned to Forest Glenn Annex, near Walter
Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., and worked with military doctors
in prosthetics. During this time, Alfonzo received a rudimentary prosthetic
hook that restored some of the abilities he’d lost when his hand was amputated.
Despite the loss of his hand, Alfonzo didn’t let the disability impede him from
carrying out his duties as a Soldier and from fixing things around the house.
“I wish I were as talented as he was, in terms of the things
he could do,” Spencer said. “He was a mechanic, a carpenter, a plumber – he
could fix anything.”
It was during this time that Spencer, still a child, first
noticed his father’s uncompromising work ethic. Alfonzo left the house every
morning before sunrise at 5 a.m. to work his Army job, and then headed to the
base’s NCO club, where he worked a second job, and didn’t make it home until
well after midnight.
“There were many days where I never saw him,” Spencer said.
“That work ethic really wore off on me and not by accident. We had to wash cars
and cut the grass. He wasn’t mean, but he was disciplined. Even though our
house was in Southeast Washington and in a tough neighborhood, our house looked
good compared to all the other houses there. He taught us to work.”
In fact, Spencer even spent his summers on his grandfather’s
tobacco farm, where he and his brothers, like their father before them, worked
the fields.
Instilled with his father’s determination, Spencer was on a
plane to then-Lackland Air Force Base, San Antonio, just a couple days after he
broke the news of his enlistment to his unsuspecting parents.
Back on the field
Spencer enjoyed his work in the Air Force, but his
connection to football wasn’t severed when he left his semi-pro team and donned
the Air Force uniform.
As a young Airman, Spencer played on his squadron’s
intramural flag football team. During one game, his team was having trouble
stopping opposing defensive linemen. When his team huddled up to strategize,
one of Spencer’s teammates, frustrated with the opposing players, yelled the
N-word in a curse-filled tirade.
Spencer, one of the only African-American players on the
team, was so shocked he did not know how to react.
“I literally froze and was hurt by that, because I was in
the Air Force and you think that stuff doesn’t happen here,” he said. “He will
never understand how much that hurt. It cut through me to hear him use that
word in that way and almost look through me as if I wasn’t even there.”
Spencer’s teammates admonished the player for using the
word, and the game’s referee, an active-duty NCO, ejected the player from the
game and had him report to his first sergeant. The following day, at work and
across the base, players on both sides of the ball apologized to Spencer for
what had happened – including the offending player.
“That’s one of those moments in your life you never forget,”
Spencer said.
As a young buck sergeant with a wife and two children,
Spencer was nearing the end of his first enlistment while stationed at
Charleston Air Force Base, S.C., and struggling with the decision of whether or
not to re-enlist. But football wasn’t through with him yet.
Out of the blue, Spencer crossed paths with Clemson
University’s head football coach, who offered him a scholarship – he could play
the sport he loved and receive a college education.
“I couldn’t see myself picking up and going to college with
a wife and two kids. I couldn’t think of where we were going to live, how we’d
afford groceries and medical care,” he said. “I just couldn’t see it, so I told
him I couldn’t do it. But I promised myself that when I came up on my next
re-enlistment at eight years, I was going to have a college degree and a plan
to get out.”
Remaining committed to his goal, Spencer dedicated himself
to education, and, in 1979, received his Bachelor of Science degree in
industrial engineering technology from Southern Illinois University at
Carbondale.
Spencer was stationed at Pope Air Force Base, N.C., when the
last days of his enlistment were quickly approaching. He was ready to see what
life outside of the Air Force offered, when a chief master sergeant presented
him with the idea of pursuing officer training school.
Spencer said he thought it was a long shot to be accepted
into OTS, but despite his doubts, he applied anyway. To his surprise, he was
accepted and would soon be returning to a familiar place to become an officer.
Becoming an officer
A year later, in 1980, Spencer was a distinguished graduate
from OTS at then-Lackland Air Force Base and became a comptroller officer. The
hard work and determination his father taught him would continue to play a
significant part in his life, but the realization years earlier that the Air
Force still struggled with racial issues would shape the leader he'd become.
"I have really tried to bend over backwards to make
sure everyone is treated appropriately; everyone is mentored the same, everyone
gets the same opportunities to progress if they have the talent, drive and
initiative," he said. "Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve tried to have a
diverse office because I personally think diversity is strength and results in
better decisions and a stronger organization."
During more than 30 years as an Air Force officer, Spencer
has led the charge in conserving resources and efficient spending at every
assignment he’s had, from group commander to where he now sits as the Air
Force’s vice chief of staff.
During the three years he’s served as the Air Force’s second
officer in command, Spencer has introduced several initiatives to further
cultivate an innovative and cost-saving culture throughout the service.
“I believe that part of our jobs as leaders is not to just
consume resources, but consume them in the most efficient and effective way we
can,” Spencer said. “For a long time, there was a notion that we’re warfighters
and our job is to fight wars and it doesn’t matter how much it costs. I don’t
agree with that; I don’t think they’re mutually exclusive. I think you can be a
strong warfighter as well as a smart consumer of resources.”
One such program was the "Airmen Powered by
Innovation" initiative, which charged Airmen to submit cost-saving ideas
that could be implemented to save money that could then be used elsewhere. In
just one month, May 2013, Airmen submitted more than 11,000 ideas to the
program, resulting in millions of dollars in savings.
“Everywhere I go, Airmen tell me how much money they’ve
saved and their ideas,” he said. “Not only have we saved a lot of money, but to
watch the ideas flowing in has been incredible.”
As tirelessly as Spencer has worked at improving the fiscal
responsibility in the Air Force, his true passion has been in ensuring Airmen
treat each other with dignity and respect. Spencer’s memory of that day on the
football field when his teammate bellowed the N-word remains as vivid as ever,
but while some might let that incident inspire hate, Spencer has turned it into
a positive force.
In 2013, Spencer introduced "Every Airman Counts,"
an initiative aimed at ensuring Airmen treat each other respectfully and
fostering communication between Airmen and senior leaders about preventing
sexual assault.
“You shouldn’t look at a person and see them as someone you
can take advantage of, but as wingmen and wingwomen and how you help and
support each other,” Spencer said.
A lasting legacy
Although Spencer will soon retire, his legacy will live on
in the form of the Gen. Larry O. Spencer Innovation Award that was unveiled by
Secretary of the Air Force Deborah Lee James late June. The award will annually
recognize Airmen who come up with creative and efficient ways to save money and
time.
“The award is new, but what’s not new is the laser focus on
innovation and the passion that Gen. Spencer has brought to us in many ways,”
James said. “Gen. Spencer has put much of his personal time into innovation and
efficiency.”
Today, Spencer's passion is the Air Force and its Airmen,
but there are times, occasionally, when he can't help but think back to his
first passion – football. And even though the thought of donning a Clemson
Tiger uniform and racing onto Memorial Stadium's field in front of 81,000
screaming fans is exhilarating, he has no regrets about walking through the Air
Force recruiter’s door 44 years ago, when so many of America’s youth would not
do the same.