Author: Ivan Cheung

Duane C. Flemming

(October 5, 1960 – June 7, 2026)

Duane Flemming, the only son of Charles and Doris Flemming, was born on October 5, 1960, in Bordeaux, France, and raised in Essex, Maryland. After a quiet, courageous fight, he passed away on June 7, 2026, at age 65, with his beloved husband by his side.

Duane graduated from Calvert Hall High School in 1978 and remained devoted to his alma mater throughout his life. He proudly supported tuition assistance for STEM students, DEI initiatives, and the Augustine “Auggie” F. Miceli, Sr. AFSC Scholarship. He later attended The Citadel, a choice he described as love at first sight—especially because of Charleston, South Carolina. As a member of the Regimental Band, he played tuba and treasured his four years in the barracks. The education, discipline, and friendships he found there helped shape the patriotic, compassionate, and respectful man so many admired. From 2016 to 2019, he served as president of the Citadel Club of Greater Washington and, in 2018, was named Club President of the Year by the Citadel Alumni Association. His love for his Citadel brothers was boundless, and he remained deeply committed to the DEI initiative (now Civility and Engagement) and the Class of 1982 scholarship.

After earning his degree in Business Administration, Duane was commissioned as an officer in the U.S. Army. His first assignment took him to Nuremberg, Germany. After returning to the United States, his Army Medical Corps career included assignments at Fort Stewart, the Presidio, and the Office of the Army Surgeon General in Bailey’s Crossroads. He rose to the rank of major before accepting a downsizing buyout and transitioning to civilian life in 1992. Determined to continue serving his country, especially fellow veterans, he spent the next 24 years with the Veterans Health Administration, helping develop, implement, and advocate for strategic policies supporting VA medical care in the nation’s largest integrated health care system. He retired in 2016 as a member of the Senior Executive Service and Director for Policy Analysis and Forecasting at VHA. After 34 years of distinguished federal service, he continued his work as a Lead Associate at Booz Allen Hamilton, providing subject-matter expertise in veterans’ health policy and health care utilization.

To his neighbors, Duane was friendly, witty, and kind. He enjoyed BYOB chats and Thirsty Thursdays and served on the condo board for three years, through this February, where he was known as a steady voice of reason. To his friends, he was inclusive, generous, and loving. He delighted in sharing his passion for cycling and freely admitted to the many hours he spent watching the Tour de France. To his beloved husband, he was a rock, a North Star, a light, and a source of unwavering support. Together, they shared 26 treasured years filled with books, music, opera, musicals, food, wine, and, above all, travel. To his parents, he was their pride and joy. To his uncle and aunt, he was truly like a son. He cared for all four of them without hesitation even as his own health declined. His love for them never wavered. Duane was one in a million—patient, quietly confident, and endlessly selfless. A devout Catholic, he never imposed his faith on others, including his husband; instead, he led by example. He valued diversity, believed deeply in inclusion, and understood that bringing people together makes the whole greater than the sum of its parts. He would want us to live with the same generosity, humility, and love that guided his 65 years.

Duane was predeceased by his loving parents, Charles and Doris Flemming. He is survived by Ivan Cheung, his husband of 12 years and life partner of 26 years.

Arrangements

• Visitation was held on Saturday, June 13, 2026, from 1–5 p.m. at Everly Funeral Home, 6161 Leesburg Pike, Falls Church, VA 22044.
• A Celebration of Life will take place in Arlington, VA, on October 4, 2026, from 5-8pm. Contact Ivan for details.
• A Military Honors Columbarium Inurnment at Arlington National Cemetery is being arranged for a later date. Per ANC, it will likely take 12 to 14 months to arrange.

Donations

• In lieu of flowers, Duane requested donations to The Citadel’s Center for Civility and Engagement or to the Class of 1982 scholarship in his name.
• Donations may also be made to Calvert Hall by selecting “Other” as the designation and entering “in memory of Duane Flemming.”

This piece was written and posted on Facebook on June 8, 2026, the day after my beloved Duane left this world. I am placing it here because it was straight from my broken heart.

The most wonderful 26 years of my life’s journey came to an end yesterday, June 7, 2026. I am heartbroken and devastated, yet I find peace and comfort in knowing that he is no longer struggling or suffering. It was difficult to say, “It’s okay to go and be with God,” knowing how deeply I will miss him and not knowing what will become of me, but that pain was nothing compared with watching what he endured as the disease progressed.

He fought two battles for almost seven years: first with multiple myeloma, which he overcame, and then with an aggressive form of myelodysplastic syndrome. In round two, he fought with all his might, enduring seven rounds of oral chemotherapy and then a donor stem cell transplant. He was so close to victory, but MDS reared its ugly head again about three weeks ago. His condition deteriorated so rapidly that he visibly aged 20 years in the last 10 days. He was admitted to Johns Hopkins Hospital last Friday, and he was gone within about 36 hours as MDS progressed to acute myeloblastic leukemia (AML).

He was loving, kind, considerate, gentle, generous, and genuine. I know how deeply he loved his mom and dad, and Uncle Bob and Aunt Kay, all of whom lived well into their 90s. I witnessed how selflessly he sacrificed to care for them. He took care of his mom while battling MM and then cared for his aunt while struggling with MDS. He never complained. He generously shared his time and resources with the community. He was proud to have attended Calvert Hall and, needless to say, The Citadel. At The Citadel, he met his lifelong brothers. I am grateful that you all were part of his life; he spoke so highly of you. I also want to thank you personally for the love and support you have given me over the last two days.

He served his country proudly, first as a commissioned officer in the Army and later in the Senior Executive Service at the Department of Veterans Affairs. He served first as a soldier and then served his fellow veterans. That is devotion and patriotism. In the last few years, he also served on our condo board. It was an absolutely thankless job, but he generously gave his time, expertise, and professionalism. In his 65 years, he made an impact on so many people. The world was a better place with him in it.

Duane was the best thing that ever happened to me. We met online in the dial-up bulletin board era. Is Gay.com still around? We had our first date in January 2000. By July, I had moved in, and by Thanksgiving, we had adopted our beloved Murphy. We experienced so much in just 26 years. He loved my big, loud family, and they loved him back. Why? Because they knew he was good to me and good for me. He always encouraged me, gave me the freedom to grow, and supported me no matter what crazy endeavors I got myself into—traveling to gay volleyball tournaments, “participating” in 14 of my 18 marathons, cheering me on during a half-Ironman and plenty of more reasonable-distance races, and volunteering at the DCFR Pride Run 5K bag check with a smile. He loved me and was proud to call me his husband. He nurtured me and built me up with his kindness and love. I am who I am because of him.

We wanted 26 more years. We had seen quite a bit of the world, but as he achingly told me two nights ago, “I wish we could see more together.” We wanted to grow old together. But God had a different plan for him. We agreed that we got quality, if not quantity. I was holding his hand when he took his last breath. When his heart stopped, he was staring at me. I closed his eyes, kissed his forehead, and said, “I love you.” I swear he twitched his lips and then gave the slightest smile. I took that as a sign that he was finally at peace, with all the pain and suffering gone.