Brock King Lewis

1965 - 2018

Brock King Lewis

Reno - Brock King Lewis died in January, in his sleep, and it was both unexpected and very much expected.

Brock was born on November 11, 1965 and came into our life when he was five months old. When Brock was a little boy he learned to cook, and with a knack for science he promptly made cheese. He enjoyed creating complex dishes throughout his life. He played soccer, and ran track and a marathon. He skied and hiked and biked and rafted. His favorite pets were cats, he planted vegetable gardens, studied the night skies with his telescope, and played the guitar. He was once married. Always, he loved family.

When he graduated from Wooster High School in 1984, he tried college. But he was drawn to the blue collar and everyday folks that he continued to enjoy his whole life, and became an auto mechanic. We remember when he was a toddler and spotted his first tool kit and trembled with delight and awe. We also remember our driveway during his teens, sprinkled with torn apart and rebuilt car engines.

He joined the Nevada Air National Guard and in 1986 was a Medical Laboratory Specialist honor graduate, with the highest cumulative score in unit history. In 1989 he was awarded the Air Force Achievement Medal. He performed all of the functions in the clinical laboratory. In 1992 he was honorably discharged as a Staff Sergeant and in 1994, honorably discharged from the Air Force Reserve.

An atypical path led to his being hired in 1987 to join a University of Nevada project as a research assistant. He literally went from automotive garage to university laboratory. This was the first of a number of universities for which he worked. When the doctor leading the project died, the three assistants finished the work and presented the paper.

Soon after, he was invited to UC Davis. As they gave him a tour, they kept addressing him as Dr. Lewis. He quickly pointed out he was High School Graduate Lewis. They wanted him still, and he went to work for them in 1990. He not only did biomedical research, he used his skills to build and adapt equipment.

The plan was he'd get his degree, but work became more compelling. For eight years he remained the brilliant high school graduate Lewis involved in research projects. In 1996 he was given the Dean's Award for staff excellence. In the lab he instructed undergraduate and medical students and residents. His was often one of the names on teams of researchers publishing in various scientific and medical journals.

Eventually, in 2001, while working in Pennsylvania, he earned a B.S. degree in physics, summa cum laude. He had been awarded a scholarship, made the Dean's List, and was accepted by Sigma Pi Sigma National Physics Honor Society.

Recently a test connected Brock to his biological family. He tentatively spoke to them at first, not wanting to offend us. Our mom told him, "We're not giving you back!" and after that he enjoyed phone calls with a sister he had not known existed and was able to get some feedback about a complex genetic history.

Life has taught us so many have someone in their family who suffers from mental health issues, addiction jumpstarted by self-medication, or more complicated neurological issues. You may pass someone on our streets who has in their past a far richer life than you can imagine and now has a far more complicated life than you can imagine. You may have passed Brock.

Most of his life was what you'd expect of someone who was funny, engaging, brilliant, and animated — a good life. Biology and issues can catch up with a person. Brock was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He moved back to Reno in 2009. If it hadn't been for those around him, but by far and above our mom, he might (well, definitely) would have been homeless. She worked hard to made sure he had a good quality of life, independence, things to do, and most of all love.

He was far more than his circumstances. He was — and this is no exaggeration — a genius. Cleaning out his apartment, we came upon page after page of physics and mathematical equations that took up entire pages and mean nothing to most people. His resume was something only another scientist could really appreciate.

Maybe he was no longer going to win a Nobel Prize, but he continued to be funny, likable, and brilliant in his own way. He wasn't as social, but when he was, he was a joy to be around.

He still read thick scientific tomes. He went fishing with his brother-in-law. He looked forward to lunches with his dad, with good conversation, and caring and concern for each other. He visited with his brother and sisters who were always there for him. It was important to him to hear about their families.

Diagnosis and medications had come too late to prevent self-medication. But Brock went to AA meetings regularly, and for much of the eight years after he returned to Reno (though not always) he stuck to the program, which was a great relief to all of us.

He had a kindness and gentleness and sensitivity seen in those who have gone down a difficult trail. Years ago he joined his sister for dinner at a friend's house. The friend's grandmother was there, very frail and not able to participate much. Gentlemanly, he helped her be seated, then took a place at her side, engaging with her throughout the dinner to ensure she wasn't left out. He had a very kind heart.

Brock's health was deteriorating, and more tests were scheduled. There is relief in knowing he's at peace. But as difficult as his life had become, Brock never gave up. In recent years, no longer able to work, he volunteered when possible. He helped veterans. He also sorted donated clothes for a non-profit

Success is overrated — at the end of the day, were you kind and good to people and caring? Brock was, and that is a life well lived.

Brock's mom, dad, sisters and brother love him, and miss him, as do their spouses and children, friends and others whose lives he enriched. We'll gather at the Moon Rabbit Cafe (in the Reno Buddhist Center, on the corner of Plumas and West Taylor) on Saturday, April 28 from 1:30 to 4:30, to celebrate his life.