Michael Henry Cassel, 19 May 1932-11 November 1991

Michael Henry Cassel
Born 19 May 1932
Died 11 November 1991

I'm going to post a few recollections of my dad here today. Many of them will be factually wrong, probably, as my brain has been a bit damaged over the years and some things are mixed up while others may be absent altogether. But my brother reads this blog, so I'm sure he'll correct any glaring inconsistencies, and I'll amend as needed.

Mike Cassel was born in Glasgow, Montana. I don't know when the family moved to Havre. He ran away to join the service at 17, I think I heard. When he was 20, he went home on leave. He met Mom at one of her college dances, Friday the 13th of March, and asked her to marry him just ten days later, before he returned to duty back east. She said yes. Mom got a tiny diamond in the mail and planned the wedding, and on November 7, while he was again on leave, they got married. The honeymoon consisted of driving back to D.C.

Dad was so smart...and he got bored easily, and luckily married a woman willing to pack up the kids - Glenn was born in '54, me in '55 and Thelma in '63 - and the household and traipse off to the next perfect job after he got out of the Air Force. Usually every summer. All around the state of Montana. I went to twelve different schools in twelve years. The year I was in the third grade, I attended three. In two different towns. Twelve schools, numerous towns, three countries. Perfect training for this Navy Wife of 22 years.

Mike Cassel understood electronics and airplanes and weather and weapons. He hunted the prairies of north central Montana till shortly before he died. He enjoyed fly-fishing. He liked beer and a nice pipe. He could play harmonica and piano by ear. He was a voracious reader and a spirited writer of letters to the editor and he even wrote a book.

My dad was a paratrooper in the Montana National Guard. He jumped out of one too many airplanes, tore the hell out of his knees, and eventually lost one leg to staph infection that nearly killed him more than once. When they came to visit us in Maine because I was having a bit of surgery (and to meet his son-in-law for the first time), he gave me his jump wings. I still have them.

Dad got his college degree when he was 40. He taught shop. He did his student teaching at my mom's school, in my class, and he made physical science interesting. The other kids loved it and I didn't hate it either. Because of him, I love to fly - being in the Ercoupe or the Stinson with him was such fun - we used to land at the lake and drive around on the dirt roads.

We found out about the cancer around Christmas of 1989. Mom called me at my in-law's house in Indiana, where we'd stopped to visit on the way from one duty station to another. They gave him two years, because he chose no treatment. Just under two years later, as I returned home after watching the Jacksonville Veterans Day parade with my husband and daughter, I answered the phone on the wall in this house and my mom's voice said, "He's gone."

My dad was opinionated, educated, loud, and obnoxious on many occasions. He was a much better grandparent than he was a parent. I think he liked to fight as much as I did. Maybe more. He fought his demons in a different way than I do...now.

Mike Cassel - husband, father, grandfather, fighter, friend, teacher, pilot, poet, warrior. He was a helluva man. And I miss him still.