Dr. Dennis R. DePerro: Leaving a Legacy
By Tom Missel
On Jan. 2, less than two hours after we informed the campus community that Dr. DePerro was on the road to recovery in a Syracuse hospital from a bout with COVID-19, I texted him.
“THAT should make you feel better!”
Kyle Lofton had just hit a last-second three-pointer at Richmond to give the Bonnies one of their biggest road wins in years, setting the course for a remarkable basketball season.
“Absolutely!” he replied within seconds. “Too bad I could only follow it on the ESPN gamecast because the stupid Dayton game was the only game I could see.” 
That was Dennis DePerro. The human laughing emoji. He was a man of compassion and faith, of intellect and insight, but what I’ll remember more than anything is Dennis DePerro, the man of mirth and joy.
That text exchange was the last communication I had with him. I still can’t process it. Photos of him are stored all over my computer, and whenever I inadvertently stumble upon one, I shake my head and clench my teeth to stunt the tears.
Four years ago this November, Dr. Dennis DePerro took the podium at his inauguration in the Reilly Center.
Thirteen speakers had just finished their parade to the microphone, some from St. Bonaventure who had only known him a few months, and former colleagues who had known him forever.
When they all finished, I remember sitting there thinking: “Wow! I mean, I really like the guy, but no one’s that good.”
I was wrong. He was better.
When he took the podium after a standing ovation, he paused for a moment and looked into the crowd, toward the area where his wife, Sherry, and other family members were sitting, and said with a big smile:
“After all that, Sherry … if I predecease you, don’t worry about any large funeral. It’s all been said.”
Hearing those words again less than four years later is haunting. But he was right then and it’s true now. Not much more can be said about Dennis DePerro.
All you had to do was read the heartfelt tributes to him in the media, on social media and on the funeral home webpage where his obituary was posted.
I’ve met a lot of remarkable people in almost 60 years, but no one like Dennis. He was a blessing for this university but, more significantly, he was a blessing to anyone who crossed his path.
He’d actually hate that I’m writing this because it was never about him. His life was spent in service and collaboration with others — colleagues he worked with and students he worked for across 40 years in higher education.
AT THE CANDLELIGHT CEREMONY May 13 for the Class of 2021, I told the graduating students that my words weren’t really a tribute to Dr. DePerro. They were an encouragement to them to pay tribute to Dennis by doing nothing more than living their lives as he did.
I urge all of us to do the same.
That doesn’t mean we have to aspire to land at the top of our professions, like Dennis did. He was lucky to have done that, and he did so because he was great at what he did. And he was great at what he did because he was passionate about what he did.
Dr. Dennis DePerro and faculty members Dr. Jimmy Pientka and Laura Peterson.
And yet, for all he achieved in so many different roles in higher education, those accomplishments don’t define Dennis DePerro’s legacy. His humanity does.
Yes, be good at what you do. Be great at what you do. But don’t ever let your career interfere with what’s really important: how you treat other people.
That’s what made Dennis special.
In four years, he snapped at me once. In a fit of frustration I made a disparaging remark about an employee across campus. He smacked his hand on his desk and in a pretty stern tone said:
“You have no idea what value that person brings to this institution. I do. I don’t ever want to hear another word about it.” That was the end of that conversation.
See the best in everyone. Bring out the best in everyone. He did that every day of his life.
He was one of the smartest people I ever knew. Why? Because he was smart enough to know he didn’t know everything.
He valued the opinions of others, knowing he couldn’t possibly have all the answers, and he always listened more than he spoke.
HE WAS ALSO ONE OF THE FUNNIEST people I ever knew. That might be the biggest reason people gravitated toward him. He never took himself too seriously.
On the way home from an awards ceremony in Buffalo a couple years ago, Sherry called him just to see how the event went. Sometimes at these events you end up getting the crappiest piece of chicken and you’re still hungry at the end.
Sherry heard him chewing and asked what he was eating. “I just stopped to pick up some vegetables to munch on the way home because the meal wasn’t very good,” he told her.
Dr. DePerro is pictured with his wife, Sherry, and sons Andrew (left) and Matt.
He’d been trying to stick to a diet to lose some weight, which is tough on the presidential dinner circuit, so it was believable.
About 15 minutes later, Sherry called back. She had an app that alerted her to credit card purchases.
“Dennis, if you’re eating vegetables, then who just used our credit card to buy a pizza at Bocce’s?”
He was busted and he knew it, and that’s my favorite Dennis DePerro story because he almost wet his pants telling it. He laughed hard throughout his life and he always laughed hardest at himself.
THE REVERENCE he had for his family was astonishing. The only thing Dennis loved more than St. Bonaventure was his family. Until I attended his wake service March 5, I had no idea how reciprocal that love was.
His oldest brother, Peter, came up to me toward the end of the service and thanked the university for all it had done for Dennis and the family.
“People always assumed, since I was 10 years older, that we probably weren’t that close as siblings,” Peter said. “That’s not true at all.”
When Peter’s son, Mike, went off to college at Notre Dame, Peter was in the military and unable to take Mike to orientation. Uncle Dennis took a week off of work at Le Moyne to take him. Peter couldn’t finish the story without breaking into tears.
I stayed at the wake for more than two hours because stories like that just kept coming, from siblings and cousins and family friends. I’m glad I stayed because I love him even more now having heard them.
Dennis listened better, laughed harder, loved more deeply and lived more passionately than anyone I ever knew.
Yes, he did so much for St. Bonaventure and every college where he worked. But we don’t have to achieve like Dennis DePerro, the 21st president of St. Bonaventure University, to make a difference in the world and in the lives of others.
We just have to be like Dennis.
(Tom Missel is the chief communications officer at St. Bonaventure.)
A Lasting Legacy
Despite the profound impact he had on St. Bonaventure in less than four years as president, Dr. DePerro often told colleagues he never wanted anything named after him.
That wasn’t his style. But helping students attend SBU, the university he couldn’t afford to attend 45 years ago? That would mean the world to him.
If you haven’t already, please consider supporting the Dennis R. DePerro Memorial Scholarship at www.sbu.edu/drdeperro. His wife, Sherry, asked us to start the fund the day after he passed away. In just four months, more than $185,000 has been raised.