David Carlyle Coker

David Carlyle Coker, 72, of Alexandria, Virginia passed away on April 19, 2025 after a battle with chondrosarcoma, a rare type of cartilage cancer. He carried his fight on as he did most things, inquisitively, aggressively and humorously, insisting that oncologists needed to “get their hats on”. Fortunately, he was blessed with a doctor who found that sort of thing as funny as he did.

David was born on March 12, 1953 to Sears Yates Coker and Aristine Lougee Coker in Bronxville, NY. His father was in the army and David’s childhood was spent moving up and down the east coast. After graduating from Fort Hunt High School in 1971, David went on to study English at Amherst College.

Although it was the formative experience of his life, Amherst reinforced rather than focused his boundless intellectual curiosity and it was not for many years that David would find his metier. In the mean time, he continued to study and write poetry, work as a manager in a variety of retail situations, complete his undergraduate degree and begin on two graduate degrees.

In 1976, David met Cathy Chauvette, and after a whirlwind, exclusive relationship of only 10 years, they married. They had no children, but thousands of books and three cats.

David abandoned retail in the early 2000’s, and promptly read a book by one of his economics professors from his earlier run at a graduate degree. He made contact, sat in on a class and decided to return to school. He graduated from George Mason University with his PhD at the height of COVID in a distanced ceremony in a parking lot. By that time he was already teaching and publishing; he taught History of Thought in Economics. It seemed as though many of his intellectual wanderings came together here, and his students often told him that for the first time they could see how the ideas they had been learning were knit together. It was deeply satisfying. He planned to live forever, and never retire.

David is survived by his sister, Diana Van Etten, his brother, Norman Coker, and his wife, Cathy Chauvette.

“The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on….nor all your tears wash out a word of it.”