Dave Coen to pay tribute to late wife Carol at Bix 7 race on Saturday

To Rock Island resident Dave Coen, this year’s race presents an opportunity to pay tribute to a woman who came to him at one of the lowest points in his life.

Coen, 78, has been getting ready for the July 25 race through the streets of Davenport by participating in the weekly Bix at 6 training runs while wearing a shirt bearing a picture of his late wife, Carol. She died in March.

He will wear the shirt again Saturday when he power-walks a race that has been part of his life for more than half a century.

Coen said he wouldn’t be where he is without Carol.

“She was just a wonderful person,’’ he said, pausing to let his emotions subside. “She changed my life.’’

Life hasn’t been a smooth voyage for Coen. He was an outstanding runner in the 1960s at Davenport West High School, where he was a track and field teammate of longtime Bix 7 race director Ed Froehlich.

He had a few scholarship offers, but chose instead to enlist in the Navy and go off to the Vietnam War. He came from a family where almost everyone served in the military and he felt it was his duty to do the same. His best friend, Michael Ball, chose to join the Marines.

Coen came home from the war with a 40% disability due to exposure to Agent Orange. Ball didn’t come home at all. He was killed by friendly fire during a misdirected air strike in March 1969.

Coen settled down with a young wife to raise two sons and in 1975, he heard about this new road race through the streets of Davenport. He was one of 84 people who ran in the very first Bix 7. He didn’t know anything about the course and was not in good shape, but he finished in a time of 58 minutes, 43 seconds.

“It was an experience,’’ he said. “It was just a bunch of enthusiasts back there in 1975. You never heard of people running on the streets of Davenport back then.’’

He enjoyed it enough that he continued to run the race frequently through the years, marveling at its growth and relishing its atmosphere. It’s something he looked forward to every year.

Coen once ran the Bix 7 in only 41 minutes, but he can’t run at all anymore. He has had one knee, one hip and both shoulders replaced. He power-walks now.

As the years passed, his marriage fell apart and his life unraveled along with it.

“After my first marriage, I was a mess,’’ Coen said. “I was pretty down in the dumps, pretty depressed after the divorce. I drank a lot. I didn’t care about anybody. I didn’t care about running or sports or anything like that. I just drifted into a bad depression.’’

Then, in 1995, he responded to a personal ad in the Find a Friend section of the Quad-City Times. He and a fellow divorcee met to play racquetball, then had dinner together at Happy Joe’s. It was Carol. Everything about it felt right.

“After that, everything fell into place,’’ Coen said.

They had a carefree, don’t-plan-anything relationship. Carol quit her job as an elementary school teacher. They took trips together. They picked up and moved away a few times, although they always seemed to come back to the Quad-Cities. While in Florida in 2002, they got married.

Dave loved to sing Elvis Presley’s "The Wonder of You" to Carol because he felt the lyrics perfectly captured how they felt about one another.

A few years ago, Carol was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, an insidious disease that destroys the body’s red blood cells. She required weekly infusions of blood and almost constant attention. For 3½ years, Dave was her caregiver.

In mid-February, Carol went to University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics for a bone marrow biopsy. Afterward, the doctors told her: “We’ve done everything we can do. We can’t do anything more.’’ She went into hospice and on March 4 she died at home, surrounded by family members.

Coen had coped with the deaths of his parents and other loved ones, but this was different.

“It was hard …’’ he said. “I’m still having a hard time dealing with it.’’

He can’t conceal the tears when he talks about her. He still lives in the same house in which she passed away with the two dogs she adored. There are memories around every corner, waiting to haunt him. But he can’t bring himself to move.

Some of Carol’s last words to him were to do the things he loved. Right now, that means running the Bix 7.

Through all the twists and turns of life, the race always has meant a great deal to him. So he’s running it again.

“It’s part of my life,’’ he said.

He still power-walks 20 to 25 miles a week, lifts a few weights and tries to keep moving forward, both figuratively and physically.

“Everything that’s happened in my life has happened for a reason,’’ Coen said. “I’m a Christian. I believe there are no mistakes with God. I was supposed to go through all this, in Vietnam and with my marriages and my depression and my alcoholism. … I’m not anything special. There’s a lot of people who have gone through the same things. But I’m very blessed to have met Carol.’’