Carl D. Deblois, 44, died Dec. 29, 2010, at his home in Miami after a courageous battle with brain cancer.
He was born in Berlin, N.H. on Sept. 22, 1966, he pursued his love of engineering and liberal arts at Dartmouth. He graduated in 1988 with a bachelor’s degree in engineering. Dartmouth was also where he met Sue Carter ’90, whom he married on July 11, 1992, on the college campus.
After a successful tenure as vice president at Whitman Communications Group in Lebanon, N.H., he moved to Miami where, along with company founder, partner and brother, Dennis Deblois, he helped transform International Data Consultants into one of Miami’s leading global consulting companies.
He was predeceased by his father, Donald Deblois. In addition to his wife, he is survived by his mother, Olive Deblois; siblings Dennis, Donna and Carolyn; nephews Daniel and Ben Jones; nieces Olivia and Sydney Deblois-Hill; and several aunts and uncles.
Memorial donations may be sent to either The Community Partnership for the Homeless at Chapman Center, 1550 North Miami Ave., Miami, FL 33136 (www.cphi.org) or T.H.E. Braintrust at 459 Broadway, Suite 302, Everett, MA 02149 (http://www.braintrust.org/donate).
Classmate David Carter remembers:
Carl and I met sophomore year at Dartmouth and bonded over the fact that we were both North Country New Hampshire boys from opposite ends of the Kancamagus highway.
I soon learned that Carl was someone who easily connected with all sorts of people. He was fond of learning a few “unique” phrases in languages friends spoke. Thanks to Carl one of the only phrases I know in Spanish is “how much for your meatballs.”
Although not immune to the insecurities of college-age adolescence, Carl had a very strong sense of who he was, what he liked, and what he wanted, and was self-assured in his own way. He was unabashed in his sappy musical tastes (Jimmy Buffet, Harry Chapin, and Jim Croce, usually enjoyed with Bartles and James wine coolers). He was similarly unwavering in his attentions for his future wife, Sue Carter ’90, who he met in a Lodge dorm room our junior year, and who over time was convinced to be as smitten with him as he was with her.
After college, when we got together in New England or Miami, it was like we’d never been apart. My children took to him readily; despite having met him only a few of times they would run up to him like he was an old friend. He had a way of making everyone feel like that.
When he told me about his brain tumor it was shocking, but what wasn’t was the grace with which Carl faced the challenge, the humor that he used to help himself and everyone around him deal with the situation (he named his tumor Klaus), and the gentle nature that remained when much had been taken from him. When I and another friend, Kevin Comeau ‘89 visited him towards the end, it was not clear he knew who we were but he instinctively acted as the perfect host, asking us over and over if we had everything we needed. In reality, all we needed was him. He is sorely missed.