In Memoriam: Alexander Oakes Wood 2009–2025

Alex rose early most days to enjoy the quiet, pre-dawn stillness and watch the sunrise. He’d put on a beanie and wrap himself in a comfortable blanket, and he’d tuck into the best chair he could find. There was always an extra spot beside him — Alex made sure of it — for one of his brothers, should they also rise early.

A thoughtful observer of all things. That was Alex. Not just sunrises. Not just woodshop projects or physics problems, or discussions about life and purpose — but of all those things, too. More than that, Alex was an observer of people, of pets. He listened way more than he spoke. He paid attention, closely. He connected with others of all ages and backgrounds.

And after Alex had listened for a good long while, when he had absorbed enough to feel confident he had something worthy to offer, Alex would contribute. It almost always was positive, some appreciation of goodness or wisdom, some useful skill or knowledge, a silver lining buried in a painful development. When Alex spoke, the people who knew him listened. His words carried weight.

This peaceful contentedness was remarkable considering the loud drumbeat of his family life. Alex was the second of four boys, all born within five years of each other, and the household was not quiet. It wasn’t an environment that lent itself to measured introspection. And, of course, Alex joined the fray often. He led the fray often.

Throughout his life, Alex pushed his own limits, with a smile. The coast and mountains were his preferred places to be — from Goleta to Jalama, up to Gaviota Peak, and back to Red Rock and Little Pine Mountain. Off grid, immersed in natural beauty.

Alexander Oakes Wood was born May 25, 2009, in New Hampshire. At three weeks, he was driven across the country to make Goleta his home. He spent nearly 16 years there, graduating from Orfalea preschool, Kellogg Elementary, and Goleta Valley Junior High.

Alex died May 18, 2025, while traveling through the backcountry mountains that he loved so much. Also killed in the Highway 1 collision were fellow Santa Barbara County lifeguards Jake Curtis, 18, and Michael Ochsner, 17. Dr. Hafez Nasr and Saghar Golpayegani were severely injured.

At the time of his death, Alex was finishing his sophomore year at Dos Pueblos High. He was a straight-A student with National Honors, a woodshop aide, water polo goalie, and proud member of the swim team, recently earning first place in a pair of Channel League Championship swim events.

Alex was the heart of his family — warm, mischievous, and steady, moving through the world with a wisdom beyond his years. He filled the house with humor and tenderness, anchoring his family with a calm strength that felt older than his age.

In those last months, the Wood home often was filled with laughter from Michael Ochsner, the best friend of Alex’s oldest brother, Owen, and an important part of Alex’s world. Their laughter echoed through the house — a bond built on joy, trust, and deep friendship. During lifeguard training, Michael and Jake had joined Alex in forming a new kind of brotherhood — three boys walking into something they believed in.

Alex was a force of nature — a surfer, swimmer, hard-charging skateboarder and snowboarder, mountain biker, backpacker, river rafter, trail runner, and burgeoning rock climber. He was just beginning to realize how much he was capable of. He loved music and played it constantly — Stick Figure, Nirvana, Mac Miller, Modest Mouse — songs that felt like sunlight to him. He’d choose the perfect playlist for skating, cooking, or simply lying on the floor, lost in sound.

He also was a master of mischief. Alex once placed Pop-Its under his mother’s toilet seat. When they exploded beneath her, the cat shot out of the room and Alex’s laughter could be heard down the hall. “I set that up hours ago. I was just waiting,” he said later, still laughing.

But beneath the humor was a deeply warm and kind young man. His familiar, “What’s up, big guy?” greeting, his patient listening, and his calm steadiness made people feel safe around him. He already was a protector, a guardian and a giver of peace. Even as a child, he noticed everything and everyone — offering a gentle strength and quiet love that seemed older than his years.

Alex was preceded in death by his grandmother, Beth Oakes Wood, a founding mother of Goleta cityhood. He is survived by grandparents David and Deedy Jensen, and Rob and Colleen Wood; his parents; and three adoring brothers: Owen, Henry, and Miles.

Each of them connected with Alex deeply.

“We don’t have to wonder who Alex would have become,” said Rob Wood, Alex’s grandfather. “Because we knew it. We all saw it. Alex’s character had formed. He was a grounded and wise young man.”

The Wood family asks that any generosity in Alex’s honor please be directed to the American Red Cross, the Gaviota Coast Conservancy, and Hospice of Santa Barbara.

Family and friends gathered June 21, 2025 at Goleta Beach Park to celebrate Alex’s life. Comments and photos from the service can be found here. A recording from the June 21 gathering of Alex’s uncle David playing a song he wrote for Alex titled, “Always” is here.

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Eulogy

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