How I have enjoyed reading these amazing stories about one of my favorite people! And of course Della wrote her own obituary and made it fascinating and eloquent.  Her brilliance was a little intimidating to my young self but she was so warm and genuine! My parents, Bob and Linda Chancellor, were good friends of the Spragers in Tokyo during the foreign service years. Those mod young Americans went to Santana concerts, smoked a little pot, did a lot of treasure hunting (Della taught my mother how to dig out porcelain treasures at trash dumps on Japanese beaches). They ate tempura and sushi in Roppongi bistros and had fabulous parties, decorating their living rooms with hand-painted day-glo posters. I learned how to tie dye with Della! And I'm happy to say that when everyone ended up stateside Della always went out of her way to maintain that precious friendship. We ate Thai food together (less exotic, now on Parmer Lane), and she visited my mother when she moved into Buckner Villas. She never failed to be the most interesting, and interested, person I ever met.  I am sorry she is gone and I know Kevin and Lorena miss her terribly. Today's world needs more Dellas, that's for damn sure.

Such a wonderful gathering at Zilker with a terrific send-off of stories. Della would have loved it. Thanks for that. And sympathies to Lorena, Kevin, Wendy, Sofia & Darwin, along with other family & friends, all of whom enriched Della’s life.

According to their website, Carnaval Brasiliero started in Austin in 1978. I’m not sure Della danced then, but I can testify that she was one of Austin’s most loyal samba dancers thereafter. Her life in Brazil had given her the itch and one time she wore an old tap dance costume I had in high school. It was a one shoulder, lime green satin leotard with all kinds of sparkly. We painted her face with a spade, a heart, a diamond and a club in red, white and black to provide that ever essential quality one needs at Carnaval, anonymity.

DELLA KNEW HOW TO HAVE FUN!!!! She was a great teacher too and inspired me more than I realized until recently. We met through friends, all of us had Mexico in our blood, a group that I hold sacrosanct for the experiences we shared. Della and Hart came to visit when I lived in San MIguel in the early 1980’s….there was water rationing at the time, helping to make it more memorable.

A few years later I married a Texan and Della drove 160 miles to our wedding. In a few more years she attended my baby shower! Sometimes separated by distance, our together times happened less and less. Occasionally we planned time together, but more often, the universe put us together. We would hug and catch up quickly.

In recent years, we didn’t connect often, but Della and I shared a deep bond. Upon Della’s recommendation, my mother had surgery at a clinic in LA that specialized in treating ear problems. I recommended a chiropractor to Della who she credited with relieving her pain. One of our brief encounters was at his funeral.

Then last Spring, when my sister, Mayrene, was taking a Lifetime Learning class, she ran into Della. Mayrene reports that Della asked probing and interesting questions in class. I think the Lifetime Learning program was something she helped create and nourish because she was a lifetime learner and knew many of us were too. One day after class, Mayrene organized a luncheon for the three of us and it was so much fun, we planned to do it again. Della was planning a trip with her dear Darwin and the summer was so hot, one excuse or another kept the plans unmade. Then Lorena’s note came…I knew.

I find tektites out in the country all the time. Can’t do it without thinking of Dr. Della and the dissertation I heard about, but never read. She was easy to trust, fun to share time with, forward looking, independent and she proved you can fall in love at any time of life. What a great model!

I think for Della, it was all about LOVE… and the Samba!

First and most importantly, my condolences to Lorena, Sophia and the rest of Della's family and friends who must be missing her terribly. I winced tonight as I opened a letter from Lorena, fearful of the sad news of her passing  

I first met Della in the mid 90’s at Artistic Imports where we worked together and have been lucky enough to call her friend ever since. Even now I can hear her voice, her robust laugh and the elegance of her presence but I’m filled with a painful sense of regret for not reaching out to her more. How could my life be interesting to someone as marvelous as Della, I’d think to myself?  But still she would always take time to catch up, ask about my mother, my family, my life. My first child was born the same year Lorena gave birth to Sophia and that was fun to share. Boy, I’d give anything to hear a story of hers right about now. About her family and how proud she was of them!  About her new love Darwin!  Oh she was just the coolest!  I suppose I’ll always put sweet “Bella Della” on a little pedestal…. Not in a bad way  I guess I’m just really honored to have known someone who could be so unique and yet so down to earth!  Did she know how awesome she was?  I sure hope so!  

Oh Della, how you’ll be missed!  Thank you for all you’ve done to make my life and the world a better place. Thank you for sharing yourself with me!   I’ll see you in the moon and stars and everything else that shines golden like you!  

Kevin, Sophia and my dear friend Lorena, I’m sorry for your loss. My memory of Della is more a collage than a specific event. Your home in Barton hills always felt like an adventure waiting to unfold. The furnishings were minimalistic, eclectic and foreign. The big glass windows and doors and the footprint made it look like a tree house. It reflected your mother’s personality and views I’m certain. If memory serves there was usually the smell of good coffee. Your mother was not a helicopter parent, she gave us our space and we usually fended for ourselves. Not because she didn’t care but because she believed in your strength and character  and fostered your independence. I remember your mother as kind, vibrant and beautiful.  I know you brought her much joy and miss her. 

Della Sprager has been a bright note in my life since I met her a few years ago during a memoir writing class that evolved into the Twin Oaks writing group. More often than not, she came to listen rather than read, thus I valued her occasional, carefully crafted, thought-provoking stories all the more. Through the years, occasional shared lunches deepened our friendship as I heard more of her San Jose girlhood, her life as a diplomat’s wife, her adventures in Mexico as a middle-aged grad student, and much more.

A subtext during many conversations was her concern about how to get her Stuff under control so it wouldn’t be a burden to her family “when the time comes.” For example, she was determined to find a home for her extensive academic library where it would be appreciated and available for use by future scholars. I glimpsed the tip of the iceberg of her personal museum on a couple of quick visits to the house. I couldn’t begin to assimilate the multitude of exotic objects, art, and artifacts surrounding me. I hope to have many more years myself to treasure a couple of pieces of art I assembled on hand-laid paper she gifted me with. She claimed not to be the least bit creative, but her entire life was a work of art.

I came to see the diversity of her treasures as a symbol of her diverse interests, her determination to march to her own drummer, and even more, of the largeness of her heart. Her compassionate ability to remain calm and accepting remains an inspiration to me. For example, one woman who attended the writing group for a time seemed unable to understand that our purpose for the meetings was to read and critique stories we’d written, not to tell rambling, impromptu tales. She drove most of us nuts. Not Della. She quietly urged us to calm down and accept this odd personality. “There’s room in the world and plenty of time for all sorts,” she said.

A second subtext was her utter devotion to her children and especially to her beloved Darwin, the love of her later life. Darwin was her pillar of strength. While she didn’t talk of him often, the time they spent together during the day was sacred to her. Phone calls during Darwin Time were short and often answered by Darwin himself with a cheerful quip. He was clearly the warp in the fabric of her life, mostly hidden like the white warp thread in denim. I, and presumably other friends, fit into the spaces around him and that was just fine.

Over the course of my almost eighty years, dozens of friends have passed through my life, each drawing near for a time, then drifting away. Each has shaped my life to some extent. Precious few have left a hole. What surprises me is that despite the relatively short time we had together, Della’s absence leaves a remarkably huge hole in my heart.

Della and I were grad school friends in the UT,  Austin Anthropology Department.  When I first met Della, she was working for the UT Press.  An age or two later, we both graduated (robes and all) in December, 1994.   Della was a wonderful hostess.  After I changed jobs in 2000, she often invited me to stay at her home when I trekked back from Stillwater, Oklahoma to Austin.  

Della was a glowing light.  Now that she has become an ancestor,  I'll light candles in her memory.  She will be very much missed.

Find remembrance of Della’s years at RSVP and the annual luncheons she planned for volunteers from  Austin organizations—she made them such special occasions, the folks who volunteered at my nursing home never wanted to miss them! Her smile made them  feel welcome and valued for their service  

Della lit up every room or event with her beautiful smile and grace.  Thinking of her and her dear ones with love and support.

I met Della in 2004 when I began working with RSVP of Travis county. I was immediately drawn to her eclectic style, amazing stories and love of people. We because good friends over the years and even after she retired, we would keep in touch and have lunch together from time to time. Della was a dedicated volunteer who loved serving our community, helping her disabled neighbors. I was lucky to know her and will miss her very much. Sending love to her children, granddaughter and Darwin.

Aunt Della was a big, bold and beautiful spirit, in life as she will be in death.  She will be missed. Condolences to the family and loved ones. May sweet memories fill the gap she has left.

Della Sprager was a rock for me who presented too often as a reed bending in the stream. One long-ago episode: She loaned me her jalopy so I could deliver stuff for a political campaign — for seven months! No charge either and no questions asked. Nobody who knew her will forget her brassy voice or laugh. And she’s so right about her kids and granddaughter. Bravo!

It is with great sorrow that I learned about Della's passing. She and I drived for our Neighborhood Watch.  We would talk after our drives about all sorts of things:  philosophy, politics etc!  I will miss our "chats"!

Rene Fitzgerald 

Welcome to some of the random thoughts that have been popping into my head since Della passed:

Della loved dinosaurs!  She loved them ever since she was a little girl. On a recent visit, we went to the nearby Prehistoric Gardens where she took to the path with child like awe at the life sized replicas.  Additionally, she inquired if they ever had weddings there. Kiki, the owner, said they haven’t but liked the idea of such an unusual wedding venue and was willing.

And she loved Darwin. Their love was inspirational.  Sweet, respectful, attentive & kind, I believe it was a love she had been waiting for her whole life. We were all so happy that they found each other.

And she also loved food—eating it & making it. Once, having been invited to visit, I arrived with a bucket list of new restaurants. Oh, hello Franklin’s Bar-b-q in its infancy! We stood in line for 3 hours talking to the textbook salesman behind us and the time went by so quickly as Della charmed him with her knowledge. She claimed it was thee best brisket she had ever eaten and she ate every single bit. We also went for the “best croissant in town” (right near her house) which was served out of an orange shipping container. We sat in the shade of a tarp, thrilled with our coffees & croissants, marveling at the irony.

She was thrilled to cook our requests. Feijoada (Brazilian black bean stew) was so epic to watch her make. I loved to see her standing at the stove, stirring, like she had done it so many times before. The way she cut the kale (the stew’s requisite side dish) into such thin strips was enlightening. And garlic shrimp with greasy rice—yes, please!

Also on that Austin trip, we went to a funky museum in someone’s home, The Museum of Natural & Artificial Ephemerata—she was game. It must have been all those years of living abroad that made her intrepid. Every evening we would lay on her bed, tired tourists, and she would talk to me of science news, chem trails, past lives, earthquakes, and other interesting topics in that velvety voice of hers, until I dozed off.

Books! Books! Books! How many times did I hear she had been to her favorite book haunt Half-Priced Books or the latest library sale and found treasures. She would travel to visit us all with a suitcase full of books chosen for each individual, as gifts. A trip to Powell’s would garner a few goodies for herself to take back home.

She loved movies (in a theater, preferably) & estate sales & absolutely anything fashioned from bamboo & Asian New Year & the color red & cottage cheese & volunteering for the performing arts (40 years !) & scales (the subject of her PhD thesis) & holidays at her friend Deena’s home (she would  make the Rotel stuffing) & horses—as a little girl she cleaned stables so she could be near to the horses and took home pucks of dried horse manure which she tucked in her dresser like sachets because she loved that “fragrance”.

She was endlessly curious about this world & the next. At our wedding, Della gave a toast which began by “conjuring the ancestors”. Now, I toast Della and her delightfully inquisitive spirit. She’s going to be a fantastic ancestor—she spent her entire life preparing for it.



There are no words to describe the sadness that I felt at Aunt Della's passing. The world has lost a bright and shining individual and she will be sorely missed. My sincerest condolences to Lorena, Kevin, and Darwin. Love, Lisa Rose-Fallon

Beata and I shared many fun moments with Della and her partner Darwin.   We enjoyed her reminiscences of being a spouse in the Foreign Service, and shared Della and Darwin's (I called them D&D) love of good food.  In Austin, our favorite places for good food and conversation were Tarka (Indian) and Fogo de Chao (churrasco, although we normally had the vegetarian buffet).  To paraphrase (just changing the gender of the pronoun) what Robert Burns said about a departed friend:  "If there's another world, she is sure of bliss.  If there is none, she made the most of this."