Michael Kevin Keegan was born on October 29, 1947 to Anne and Tom Keegan. His arrival was heralded with all the joy and wonder associated with the first born and likewise the first born grandchild in both the Coffey and Keegan family lines.  According to Mom, from the get go he was a good natured, good humored little boy. He was the apple of his parent's eye and the recipient of much love, affection and attention from family and friends, particularly effusive were the women in the neighborhood, staunch Irish Catholics who doted on him as the culture of the time dictated.  One might think such attention would spoil a child but for Michael it just taught him that the world was good and family and friends were made to love each other.

When Daddy/Guy had his accident in 1948 the resilience and security born of that attention served him well as he was shuffled between his nana Mary Keegan and his surrogate grandmother Mimi Hollywood for the many months of Daddy's recovery.

Then in 1951 with the birth of his sister Barbara, followed by Terry (aka "me") in 53, Kathleen in '56 and Wildcat that would be Ellen, in ‘59 for better or worse Michael became a "man amongst women".  As a kid he clearly got the better deal. We lived in three bedroom house, as the only boy, Michael got his own room while we four girls shared the bunk house bedroom. As an adult he got a pretty good deal, too.  We sisters regularly gathered once a year kids in tow at Kathleen’s house. As the kids got older we decided we needed a similar weekend with just us, the four sisters meeting in the city for whatever antics suited our fancy.  Michael met us for breakfast the Sunday of that first “safari” and was given a carte blanche to join in every year thereafter, which he did and we did.  Faithfully the five of us would plan our annual “sibling safari” as we liked to call it.  Over the years we met in New York, Saltaire, Maine, and Vermont; just the 5 of us; good times, great memories.

Going back to his origins, life in Sunnyside in the 50's and early 60's was fairly simple and routine. You went to school, came home to change out of the school uniform into play clothes, met up with friends to play ball, street hockey or other, in this case, boyish activities until that time when you were expected to be home for dinner, which I might add he was often late for, and that irked our father to no end. As typical of the times he was an altar boy, a Boy Scout and had a neighborhood paper route.

My grandfather made his home in Saltaire and was gracious and generous enough to open the doors of his home to us Keegans every summer. Saltaire was and continues to be utopia to all of us but especially so when your are 13, have a slew of friends and a 14 foot outboard motor boat with free reign on the Great South Bay.  I can close my eyes and still see him, hand on the motor handle, stern of the boat at a 45 degree angle to the bay cruising the bay-front. There were many antics and adventures in that boat; you can ask any of his Saltaire cronies.

However, summertime in Saltaire was not all fun and games; there were serious summer job responsibilities. Michael had a prestigious position with Consolidated Laundries, charged with task of collecting the dirty laundry from Saltaire households and delivering that to the freight boat by 10am Monday mornings.  In his youthful days Michael typical of most teens, was not fond of mornings especially those early mornings with a task to complete...that coupled with the propensity to procrastinate made that freight boat deadline very challenging.  On more than one occasion, “Meegan” as he was affectionately known in Saltaire circles, was seen in that motor boat chasing the freight boat and tossing the bags the laundry to guys on board.  Divine intervention that they all landed on the boat and not in the bay.

Back home in Sunnyside, Michael also had a band of brothers he hung with, the force behind his tardiness at dinner time. These guys no doubt gave the nuns in St Sebastian a few grey hairs, good thing they wore that habit. And I bet my bottom dollar back then that they got their ears tweaked a time of two by the priests there. With regard to out of school activities, although never a professional level contender but always a team player Michael played football with a bunch of neighborhood guys known as the Woodside Colts.  The usual sequence of events ensued, high school then college which was just not the right fit for him at the time.  Michael took it upon himself to enlisted in the US Marine Corps at the height if the Vietnam war.  My dad was so proud of this patriotic commitment, my mom less so.  Thankfully he made it home safely, but that time in the Marines shaped and solidified his identity.  My brother was a son of the greatest generation, men and women, like his mom and dad who were driven by a sense of personal responsibility, duty, honor and faith. Those values were an integral part of who Michael Keegan was but in the late 60’s and early 70’s decisions made by higher authority figures and the consequences of those decisions were causing much dissent and turmoil on a national level, the world was changing and core commitments were challenged.  My brother rode the crest of change but I think he always held onto the footprint of that earlier time and was more comfortable with the predictability and structure of his formative years.

While in Vietnam he struck up a pen pal relationship with Skip’s new wife’s friend, Ellen.  Michael was supposed to be a groomsman at this wedding but Uncle Sam had other missions in mind.  They met and started dating when he came home later that year and the rest is history.  Michael and Ellen got married in 1971 and then along came Jennifer, Danny and Kara.  Their journey of marriage and family mirrors that of many; full of it twists and turns but they hung on, weathered that road and were married just short of 40 years when Ellen died in 2011.

I don’t think any story of Michael would be complete without some mention of the night he and Dick Swanson took on the British army.  My brother held a bit of distain for all things “British”, clearly a product of his Irish American heritage.  So when an immense yacht dropped anchor just off Coffey Point with the British flag waving off the stern, something stirred in Michael.  Mind you Michael was no angel but I never considered him a dare devil.  Michael had recently turned 30, and like I said earlier wife, three kids, lots of responsibilities, he was probably feeling just a pang or two of longing for the youthful exuberance and reckless carelessness of earlier days. Dick had a small outboard motor boat. Again reminiscent of time gone by…the night was dark, their confidence or foolhardiness, depending on how you look at it, fueled by a few beers they conjured up a scheme to take the flag down.  I am not sure how they got away with it but they took Dick’s boat out to the yacht, Michael climbed on board, dropped the flag and hightailed it back to 30 East Bay Prom. Imagine my dad’s astonishment when he awoke the next day to see that flag draped over the end of his bed. There was a lot talk around the village about who, when and most unfathomable, how?? But for years the story never made it much past Coffey Point.  Every so often that British flag made a showing at some family gathering.  I wonder when it will show up next.

My brother was a “gentleman” both by nature and behavior, just a nice, affable guy.  We had a series of family reunions in Saltaire at mom and dad’s home from 1996 until 2008.  When we first started this tradition we had 11 grandkids between the ages of 4 and 14.  Our own Saltaire summer camp experience paid off. I think our Keegan Incredible Saltaire Summer programs were somewhat suggestive of the best of those times, group swims in the bay, all ages included, ocean wave races, treks to the lighthouse, treasure hunts, a gypsy fortune teller and assorted afternoon and evening activities.  We set up a 3pm Candy Store break, which Uncle Hot Dog operated, so sweet and kind of him since his kids were well beyond the age when this would appeal to them. I remembering him fixing any number of flat tires (a true test of patience), watching over the waving chasing activities at the ocean and always ready for a little good hearted banter with the kids. As with any kid program these days, we all know you get a lot more mileage when you accent the positive. But it was Michael’s attempts at teaching (or at least demonstrating) the art of fishing to Neil and Matt, that was the instigating force of the “Good Guy/Good Gal Award”.  Watching how he did that one could not help but think “…there is one good guy...” hence the onset of our daily recognition ceremony

The Marine Corp motto is “Semper Fidelis” - always faithful”; apt description for my brother, always faithful and loyal not to mention dependable.  If he set his mind to do something, if he said he would do it, he would do it.  Here is a very recent example.  My mom turned 90 in March; we Keegan siblings decided it was time to get her a new bike.  She got a card at her birthday party from us with a picture of just such an item and the promise of delivery once she got to beach.  Given how things went for Michael this spring, you can understand how that promise fell to the bottom of the chart.  I was with Michael two weeks ago.  He brought this up. Questioning me about the status of this gift, our plan (of which we had none) for bringing it to fruition and then his commitment to do it.  He and Kathleen rode over to Fair Harbor last week and he very mindfully and purposely picked out just the right bike for mom.

He loved CBS FM and the oldies but goodies.  He valued the symbolism of the American flag and carried on my dad’s tradition of raising it every morning he was at 30 East Bay Prom. That was another task Michael set out to right when he arrived in Saltaire last week.  With all the work done on the house, the flag pole had not been raised nor restrung.  Thanks to Tristam, Kathleen and Barbara it is now.  He enjoyed a good historical fiction, documentaries about times gone by and surprisingly enough classic music playing in the background.  He liked chewing over the details of the previous evenings or weekend sports outcomes with Danny. He hated the cold and was particularly enthusiastic about a pending move and winter in a warmer climate.  He loved hamburgers, bacon cheeseburgers all the more, bacon and egg sandwiches, English muffins toasted until they almost like burnt (not at the same time mind you) and recently he developed an equal enthusiasm for ice cream.  As we all well know Michael enjoyed cold beer, in some circles known as “apple juice” and as for that beer; the colder the better.  He took the refrigeration of his beer to the enth degree, creating an art form in the process.

He was blessed with six grandchildren and had a unique connection with each of them.  When Emily his first grandchild arrived in the summer, he carried her picture in his pocket and his refrain to anyone he met in Saltaire was,” Hey, how’re you doing?  Want to see a picture of my granddaughter?” And out came the photo.  Proud grandpa.  He might not have been the loudest, (that honor goes to Jen) but he was clearly the most pleased fan and enjoyed being a spectator at Tristam’s baseball games. He shared his love of that game if not sports team allegiance with Tristam as well.  He liked having Katie visit him, the two of them just puttering around the house much like she did with her grandma.  For a while, he and Aidan had a standing routine for getting their haircuts together.  Judging from some of the pictures seen in the slide shows, Aidan you are probably better off that that ritual has fallen by the wayside.  He never failed to be touched by the excited and enthusiastic welcome that Gavin had for him whenever and wherever he visited.  Molly having observed the seal of approval her big brother gave Pop Pop released herself from her Kara’s hip and became somewhat of his lap blanket during this most recent stay with him.  Michael loved being your Pop Pop.

My brother, as we stood on the deck at 30 East Bay prom one evening when the sky was particularly star studded, told me that he thought that once we died we live on for as long as there are folks left behind who remember us.  So although he is not alive amongst now he can and will live on in our hearts forever, how could we ever forget such a warm and loving guy?

I miss you Big Bro…we all do ….and we will love you forever.

                                                                                                                       July 1, 2014

Honestly, I do think of you every single day when I shave.  Remember that spot you pointed out to me that I missed on day; well I still make sure I don’t miss it ever again since then!

Or grabbing an fresh squeezed orange juice across from 811 or the time we were having a beer for breakfast and I scored the Ringgold Tap because they were going out of business...taking turns watching the mahogany while others walked over to 5^th Ave.

The time you made us stop the car coming back from a Met game in Philly because we were driving a tad too fast for you and you thought you would be better of asking your bride to drive you to Piscataway the next day to pick up your car than it would be for you to continue your ride with us!

He served many during his life and asked for little in return.  He was a fine son to his parents a wonderful husband, a great father, and I'm sure a wonderful grand-father as well   For me, I had no greater friend than he!  Mike served his country as well. His service in Vietnam will forever be remembered by his country and his fellow Marines as well as all other service veterans who were not an active part of his battles, but with whom he served and shared his stories.

There is no way to express how much my heart aches at this time.  Knowing he's no longer with us.  No longer will I be able to share a corned beef sandwich and beer with him before a St. Patrick's Day Parade.  Never will I be able to laugh at him when he turns away in utter horror as I chop up my bacon and eggs.  I'll never be able to "hold his jacket" again or hear him tell me “leap frog!”

I think of all those fun times we had in Philly.  The games with all of our families together trying to eat the soaked subs out of the cooler or trying to get an autograph from Lenny Daystar.  Or the time I was at the game across the parking lot waiting for all the traffic to leave hearing the sweet sound of DooWop music across the lot, only to find Mike and Brooklyn singing away!  The same sweet songs sung by ‘The Rivertones.’

Or how he got upset I started a new tradition, “Buy a vet a drink,’ It was to be celebrated every November 10, the day before Veteran’s day and of course, the Marine Corps Birthday. 

Last year I walked into the West Harbor Post Office wearing one of my USMC caps, and Mike greeted me with the traditional "Semper Fi".  We started chatting about our time in the Corps, and I asked if he had any photos of when he was in uniform that I could use in a slide show I put together of local veterans each year.  Much to my surprise, he whipped out his wallet and showed me his USMCR ID card from 1973 and let me take a photo of it with my IPhone to use!  I thought that was pretty neat, and did so.  It's attached to to this message, and I'm glad I got the opportunity to know him, albeit briefly.  Incidently, he was also a member of American Legion Post 36 here in the Boothbay Harbor Region.

was truly a gentle-man.  Rest in Peace, Michael.