When 19-year-old Avery Koonce left her hometown of Tyler, Texas, to attend the U.S. Air Force Academy, she was full of promise. A track star and honor student, she’d spent her life training, studying, and chasing excellence. But on September 4, 2024, Avery was found unresponsive in her dorm room at the Academy in Colorado Springs. The young cadet’s sudden death stunned her peers and devastated her family — and according to experts, it might have been entirely preventable.
An autopsy released by the El Paso County Coroner’s Office revealed that Avery died from Paeniclostridium sordellii sepsis — a rare but aggressive bacterial infection that developed as a complication of parainfluenza laryngotracheobronchitis, a viral respiratory illness. In simpler terms, she had a severe pneumonia that spiraled out of control.
Her lungs were under attack from both a virus and a bacteria that her weakened immune system couldn’t fight. Medical experts who reviewed the findings say that with proper and timely treatment, Avery’s life likely could have been saved.
Dr. Michael Baden, a renowned forensic pathologist and former chief medical examiner for New York City, analyzed the case and described the cause of death bluntly: “In essence, she died of untreated pneumonia.”
According to Dr. Baden, Paeniclostridium sordellii is an uncommon bacterium associated with rapid, toxin-producing infections that can lead to toxic shock. “It’s extremely rare, but it thrives when the immune system is compromised,” he explained. “In this case, the viral infection weakened her defenses, allowing the bacteria to spread. It’s not tied to any underlying condition — it’s simply something that should have been caught and treated.”
He emphasized that basic interventions — antibiotics, intravenous fluids, and early medical evaluation — could have drastically changed the outcome. “This didn’t have to happen,” he said. “She had an illness that was completely manageable.”
In the days leading up to her death, Avery reportedly suffered from what seemed like a stubborn cold — coughing, fatigue, mild fever. According to the autopsy, she had been experiencing a persistent cough for several weeks, one that worsened as time went on. Like many young, healthy people, she may have assumed it was just a virus that would pass.
Dr. Baden noted that this assumption is tragically common. “People, especially young adults, tend to dismiss respiratory symptoms until it’s too late,” he said. “But pneumonia can turn deadly very quickly. Once bacteria like sordellii enter the bloodstream, it’s a race against time.”
The Air Force Academy and the El Paso County Coroner’s Office declined to comment further on the specifics of Avery’s case, citing privacy regulations. However, her story has prompted growing concern about how seriously institutions — especially those with young, high-performing members — monitor and respond to respiratory illnesses.
Avery’s death was particularly shocking because she appeared to embody perfect health. A talented athlete, she was a standout sprinter at Thrall High School in Taylor, Texas, before enrolling at the Academy. She had recorded impressive times — 12.12 seconds in the 100 meters and 25.67 in the 200 — and had been recruited to join the Academy’s track and field team. Her coaches described her as driven, disciplined, and relentlessly positive.
Friends said Avery had been adjusting well to the rigorous academic and physical demands of Academy life. Her social media posts reflected pride in her training and gratitude for the opportunity to serve. Nothing hinted at how quickly her life would be cut short.
Her parents, Eric and Kelly Koonce, shared their heartbreak in a public statement shortly after the autopsy results were made public. “Avery was an incredible bright light in this broken world,” they wrote. “She was full of joy, courage, and compassion. Her absence has left an irreplaceable void in our lives.”
Their message has since been shared widely, resonating with families of other cadets and young athletes who’ve seen firsthand how easily health can take a backseat to ambition.
The bacteria found in Avery’s lungs — Paeniclostridium sordellii — is rare but notoriously aggressive. It can cause tissue destruction, inflammation, and a lethal form of septic shock. Infections progress so rapidly that patients can deteriorate within hours. The early symptoms, however, often mimic those of routine respiratory infections — mild cough, fatigue, shortness of breath — which makes timely recognition difficult without medical testing.
According to Dr. Baden, this case underscores a larger issue: the tendency of young, otherwise healthy people to minimize symptoms. “When you’re nineteen, you think you’re invincible,” he said. “You push through sickness because you have class, training, deadlines. But your body doesn’t care how disciplined you are. If you don’t treat pneumonia, it can kill you.”
Public health data supports this warning. Pneumonia remains one of the top causes of infection-related deaths in the U.S., particularly when bacterial complications develop. Most of these deaths are preventable with early intervention — antibiotics, hydration, and monitoring for signs of respiratory distress.
Avery’s story also raises questions about how closely medical issues are tracked within high-intensity environments like military academies, where cadets are trained to endure discomfort and avoid showing weakness. Some former cadets have spoken anonymously about the culture of “pushing through” illness to avoid appearing unfit. While there’s no evidence that this directly contributed to Avery’s death, experts say it’s a conversation worth having.
Her death has become a quiet wake-up call — not just for the Academy, but for young people everywhere. Online, tributes poured in from classmates, teammates, and teachers. Photos of Avery running, smiling, and laughing now accompany messages urging others to take even minor illnesses seriously.
“She was the kind of person who gave everything her all,” one of her former track coaches said. “If she was sick, she’d probably have downplayed it — not because she didn’t care, but because she didn’t want to let anyone down. That’s who she was.”
In the weeks following her passing, Avery’s parents began advocating for greater awareness around pneumonia and respiratory infections in young adults. “It’s not just the elderly who die from pneumonia,” her father said. “Healthy kids can, too — if they wait too long to get help. We don’t want another family to go through what we’re living.”
Her mother echoed the sentiment. “Avery was strong, brave, and smart,” she said. “But even the strongest need care. If something feels wrong, go to the doctor. Don’t assume it will get better on its own.”
Avery’s funeral drew hundreds of mourners from her hometown and the Air Force community. Photos showed her teammates wearing her track colors and her classmates holding candles under the night sky. The ceremony ended with the Academy’s traditional honor guard salute — a symbol of respect for a life dedicated to service, even if it ended far too soon.
Her death, though devastating, has already begun to spark change. Within the Academy and other military institutions, discussions are underway about improving early medical evaluations and creating stronger health awareness programs for cadets.
Avery Koonce’s story is now being shared far beyond Colorado — not as a cautionary tale of failure, but as a reminder of vulnerability. Behind the uniform, behind the medals and achievements, there was a young woman who caught a treatable infection and never recovered.
Her parents said it best: “Avery lived with purpose and light. If her story can save even one life, then her light still shines.”