Larry Spencer - Dark Horse: General Larry O. Spencer and His Journey from the Horseshoe to the Pentagon

For forty-four years, Larry Spencer left his leadership imprint on our Air Force and everyone he met. Now Dark Horse allows an even broader audience to learn from this remarkably successful, positive, humble, caring leader. A truly inspirational read!

Gen. Martin Dempsey (Ret.)

18th Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

In the Black Lives Matter era, General Spencers memoir is timely and instructive. His vivid prose puts the reader at his side, watching events through his eyes as he experienced a wide variety of situations. His achievements in overcoming negative peer pressure, low expectations, racial stereotypes, and discrimination can serve as an inspiration for many Americans.

Paul Stillwell

Editor of The Golden Thirteen: Recollections of the First Black Naval Officers

Larry Spencer has been a true leader in his lifes work, making our armed forces stronger and more effective. Dark Horse shares the secrets of his success: his dedication to duty and his innate decency. His life is a valuable lesson for us all as we work to make America the best it can be.

Sheryl Sandberg

Chief Operating Officer of Facebook, founder of Lean In and Option B

Gen. Larry Spencer left his mark on the United States Air Force and now he does so again with this timely, relevant, and extremely important book, which also provides a needed addition to USAF history. General Spencer has written an earnest and intimate portrait that covers valuable perspectives from both his enlisted and officer career. Detailing issues of racial strife, overcoming adversity, and filled with lessons in leadership, Spencer writes with ineffable grace, wit, and charm. Leaders at all levels should read this book, to steal a phrase from General Spencer, with eagerness and enthusiasm.

Dr. Brian D. Laslie

Command Historian, United States Air Force Academy

General Larry O. Spencer, USAF (Ret.)

Naval Institute Press

291 Wood Road

Annapolis, MD 21402

2021 by Larry O. Spencer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library of Congress CataloginginPublication Data

Names: Spencer, Larry O., date author.

Title: Dark horse : General Larry O. Spencer and his journey from the Horseshoe to the Pentagon / General Larry O. Spencer, USAF (Ret.).

Other titles: General Larry O. Spencer and his journey from the Horseshoe to the Pentagon

Description: Annapolis, Maryland : Naval Institute Press, [2021] | Includes bibliographical references.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021025101 (print) | LCCN 2021025102 (ebook) | ISBN 9781682477021 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781682477045 (ebook) | ISBN 9781682477045 (pdf)

Subjects: LCSH: Spencer, Larry O., 1953 | United States. Air ForceOfficersBiography. | United States. Air ForceAfrican AmericansHistory. | African American generalsBiography. | GeneralsUnited StatesBiography. | United States. Air ForceMilitary lifeHistory20th century. | Washington (D.C.)Biography.

Classification: LCC E897.4.S64 A3 2021 (print) | LCC E897.4.S64 (ebook) | DDC 358.40092 [B]dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021025101

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021025102

This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

Printed in the United States of America.

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First printing

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.

MAYA ANGELOU

O n September 9, 1953, I came into existence as a dark horse, a contender with little or no chance of succeeding. Born an African American in the early 1950s on a tough inner-city southeast Washington, D.C., street called the Horseshoe, made me a dark horse. Dad was an enlisted man in the U.S. Army and worked two jobs to support our family of eight. Neighborhood kids teased me because Dad wore a prosthetic hook in place of his amputated left hand, an injury he received during the Korean War. Mom had not completed high school and had no drivers license. Both had migrated from southern Virginia, where Jim Crow laws and the separate-but-equal doctrine dominated their early lives and shaped their life perspective.

We shared our nine-hundred-square-foot duplex home with roaches and mice. I walked to school each day with my head on a swivel in close watch for an unprovoked fight. I was a poor student in school. I was trapped inside a cocoon of low self-esteem and poor self-worth. Teachers passed me along to the next grade with the hope I would do better. If they only knew how desperately I wanted to do better. I needed help. I needed guidance. I needed a mentor, but there were none. Positive role models were few, and negative images and stereotypes were abundant. As an introvert, I felt isolated. My outlook for a meaningful future was desolate.

I had many personal struggles during my youth. I struggled to make sense of a society that labeled me a minority, or worse. I didnt understand how skin color could determine ones future. My escape from a lack of hope was food, so I struggled with my weight and self-image. The neighborhood kids called me fat boy. Worse, some of my family ridiculed me over my appearance. Only in hindsight do I understand their intentions were pure, but at the time the pain of the personal derision was indescribably deep. I dont blame them now. I refuse to believe they knew how I cringed when I was compared with relatives they felt I should be more like. But during my youth, the constant expressions of repulsion were like a dagger in my spirit.

Sports ruled on the Horseshoe. As a young African American male, being good at sports was expected, and I was good. Rain or shine, I played football and basketball every day. My dream was to play in the National Football League; that was supposed to be my ticket out of the Horseshoe. For me, like most of my friends, that ticket never got punched. In stark contrast, academic acuity was eschewed and those who excelled in school were accused of acting white. Fighting also ruled in my neighborhood, and I had my share of fights, some triumphant and others not. Negotiation and compromise were viewed as weak. Those not skilled with their fists were labeled punksand faced the scorn of neighborhood bullies.

There was little disposable income in the home, so if I wanted money I had to earn it. I developed a knack and a passion for saving money and seeking efficiency. I hung on for dear life to the back of a city trash truck collecting garbage. I stripped and waxed floors in a department store. I delivered newspapers on my paper route for the