Michael George Pappas

10/23/52

The city of New Bedford has lost one of its bright lights. Michael G. Pappas took his last breath on Saturday, December 17th, 2016, after a long battle with COPD. Mike was born at St. Luke’s Hospital, spent nearly his entire life in the city he loved, and passed away 64 years later in the same institution in which he was born. He was passionate about a great many things, and although his life was far too short, he lived each and every year to the fullest.

Mike was a family man, first and foremost. While his two brothers, Peter and Louis, moved far from the city of their birth and traveled extensively, Michael chose to build his life in the same house where he grew up. His door was always open, and he loved having family in his home as long as they didn’t sit in his chair or his chosen spot on the couch. His favorite times were when his brothers visited New Bedford with their wives Kathy and Liz, so that he could horse around in the yard with his six nephews: Peter, Andrew, Matt, Ben, Chris, and Danny. He enjoyed vacationing in the same places each year, visiting favorite spots like Cappy’s in Camden, Maine; skiing at Killington, Vermont; and golfing in Myrtle Beach. He traveled with his wife, Gisele, his daughter, Naomi, and the son he never had, Nicholas.

Michael was short in stature but made up for it with personality that filled the entire room. Growing up, Mike was the class clown. He told stories about intentionally getting into trouble, so that when the ‘punishment’ of kneeling at his desk was doled out, he could eat the candy he’d previously hidden inside it. His father, Charles, and mother, Helen, owned a luncheonette and chocolate shop on Acushnet Avenue where he worked as a helper. Displaying the work ethic he would eventually win awards for, he became a paper boy at the age of 12. Mike eventually became a carpenter, which he took great pride in. He always had enormous attention to detail and built many items of furniture for his home. He always had enormous attention to detail and built many items of furniture for his home. His mastery of dove joints brought him particular joy, so every piece of furniture has dove joints somewhere, whether or not they were technically necessary. He renovated his parents’ two family into a one family, doing most of the work himself, and adding multiple skylights to make it look like the condo units at Killington that he loved so much. He also built a large multi-level deck out his back door, filming the process in the style of “This Old House,” a show he adored. His film credits don’t end there. He was the unofficial videographer of his daughter’s dance recitals for longtime friend and dance teacher, Cheryl, and although he did an exceptional job, he sometimes had difficulty telling which child was his among all the lace and costumes, and zoomed in on the wrong child for extended periods of his daughter’s performances. Mike also loved to harass his friends and loved ones with his video camera at every gathering, large or small. He has countless hours of footage of barbecues, Thanksgivings, birthday parties, graduations, and his very favorite holiday, Christmas Eve. In particular, Michael loved to pan the camera over to his mother-in-law, Alice The Great, while she was attempting to eat a meal in peace, and erroneously inform viewers that Alice had been eating during the entire party. It became a running joke between them, as Mike loved to tease Alice almost as much as she liked to tease him back. Mike enjoyed the repartee since, as the youngest of his brothers, it was his job to mercilessly tease his own mother; after her passing, he turned his focus to Alice, who rose to the occasion.

Michael put himself through college working as a carpenter while supporting his wife and young daughter. He graduated as a Civil Engineer and spent his career working for Camp, Dresser, & McKee as an environmental engineer. His firm is an international company, and although he was offered jobs traveling the world, Mike chose to work in areas close enough to commute to. He excelled in his work, winning numerous awards. His reputation preceded him, not only for his management skills, but also for the pranks he played on his coworkers. His work ethic was second to none and he strived to pass that on to his daughter and nephews. He put his nephews Matt and Andrew to work at his rental properties at every opportunity, which they recall fondly when speaking of summer vacations with Uncle Mike (The vacations also included surfing at Horseneck, which was, of course, filmed and set to music.). He also took great pride in his nephew Aaron, who, despite never painting one of his uncle’s apartments, became the man and father that Michael always knew he would be.

Mike was a lover of all things political. He was a staunch, proud Republican and enjoyed nothing more than a heated debate with a worthy opponent. He spent most of the 1980s listening to Henry Carreiro on WBSM while waiting on hold to disagree with everything Henry had said on that day’s program, all the while reading Ronald Reagan’s latest book AND watching the four o’clock, five o’clock, and six o’clock news in succession. He took particular interest in local politics, dating back to his days supporting Mayor Lawler. He still has a few “Re-Elect John Bullard” buttons on his dresser should anyone in the city have a pressing need for one. His Letters to the Editor of the Standard-Times will live on in infamy, as his pen was indeed mightier than the 9mm he was licensed to conceal. Family and friends would look forward to reading Michael’s letters, partly because he was an incredible writer, and partly because he detested political correctness; and though the staff at the Standard-Times often disagreed with his opinion, they enjoyed the relationship that they built with Mike over the years. Though he was never shy about expressing his opinion, and could opine for hours on many a subject, he strove to live up to his unwavering belief in freedom of speech and highly respected those he debated against. And while he was not a veteran, he believed wholeheartedly in defending freedom and had the utmost respect for members of the military, police force, fire departments, and civil servants.

Another of Mike’s great passions in life was sports. He was a champion speed skater at Brooklawn Park, a black belt in Kenpo, a Mustang racer, and a star pitcher for his Poirier Post Little League baseball team, where he held the dubious honor of having pitched a losing no-hitter game (a story he loved to tell!). As a young man, he became a surfer and even designed his own surfboard. He excelled at every sport he tried, partly due to his ferocious tenacity and willingness to practice until he became the master of his craft. Once his ability peaked, Mike would move on and conquer a new challenge. Mike’s greatest sporting love affair, though, was with the game of golf. As he was wont to do, he became obsessed with the game, playing as often as possible. Although he never achieved a level of skill that he would have liked, he did manage to wrangle his handicap down to a respectable 8 and was, at one time, the Hawthorne Club Champion. Much to the chagrin of his wife and daughter, Mike loved watching the Golf Channel even more than he loved to play the game, which resulted in his family losing their TV privileges since he was usually watching one match while recording another. He recorded every match humanly possible; it can only be assumed that his engineering degree included a course in advanced VCR programming. He amassed what is thought to be the largest owner-recorded VHS golf library on the Eastern Seaboard, complete with handwritten labels in his extraordinarily precise script. Should readers of his obituary require a viewing of any of the Ryder Cup or Master’s Tournaments that occurred between 1989 and 2013, complete with the originally aired commercials, the estate of Mike Pappas can so provide, along with the option to use any of four old VCRs that have been waiting anxiously under the spare room bed for just such an opportunity.

Mike was a music lover. He could sing better than most, learned to play the guitar as a teenager, and formed a band with friends. They practiced in his parents’ basement. One afternoon, his buddy Doc Pittsley’s girlfriend came to practice, dragging her kid sister Gisele along. Before she was even in the door, Gisele heard Mike singing and fell head over heels in love. She was fifteen and he was eighteen. They went on their first date only a few days later, were married within four years, and celebrated forty-two years married on their last anniversary. Gisele was the Yin to Mike’s Yang; they were the embodiment of the phrase ‘opposites attract.’ She is gentle where he was bold, she is soft and he had a tough exterior; she was the eye and he, the storm.

His daughter Naomi, the only baby he ever doted on, spent her formative years propped up against him as he watched WWF on television, learned to drive a stick at the age of five while perched upon on his lap, inherited his love of both Starbucks coffee and anything chocolate, and is working on perfecting the art of co-worker harassment to carry on his legacy.

Mike was a quiet hero to many who knew him. He did not ever seek acknowledgement or validation when he gave a friend a loan, a lift, or a turkey at Thanksgiving. It should be mentioned that he gave often and to many, including to every friend or relative who was involved in any type of fundraiser. He particularly enjoyed buying at least two candy bars from any child going door-to-door with their parent, and he often “didn’t need” his change. He gave each and every tenant (he had twelve) a turkey on Christmas; he tipped generously; and he loved to give the gifts he excelled at picking out. In the two days since his passing, his family has already learned of many acts of kindness by Michael that he never disclosed, even to them. He simply did not need recognition or thanks. He gave because he cared much more deeply than his sometimes gruff exterior would lead one to believe at first meeting him.

While his passing was far too soon, has saddened the hearts of all who had the pleasure of knowing him, and has left a void in the community that will not soon be filled, his family will carry forward without him, just as he would want them to. His memory will live on in the hearts of all who knew him. His family and close friends will keep his spirit alive by remembering the life lessons he taught them:

- Always keep at least five weather apps on your phone. Check each of them often, and counter-reference against at least one weather station and the 4AM news. But never, ever bring an umbrella. Anywhere.

- When you decide to renovate your house, do not procrastinate. Just walk in from work one day and take a sledgehammer to the wall. Any wall. A main wall that’s right in the way of everything, like perhaps the primary egress, is an excellent choice. Alternatively, just rip the ceiling down with your bare hands.

- If you’re going to decorate for Christmas, do it right. And doing it right means to do it bigger, and brighter, and better, than anyone else. With every single light in perfect position. And then do it again next year, but even bigger and better. Compete with your neighbors on the next block. Climb on the roof. Buy outdoor speakers to play music. Decorate the yard. The stairs. The house. The shrubs. The clothes line. The shed. Start encroaching on your neighbor’s trees should they overhang your fence. Don’t stop until there’s a traffic jam in front of your house every year.

- When you get a piece of mail addressing you as President General Michael Pappas, insist forevermore that you are referred to that way. So much so that your family makes a plaque memorializing this title, which you can place next to you on the couch and point to every time anyone even remotely disagrees with you about anything.

- Give everyone a nickname that only you use. Ideally, this nickname will be longer than their real name (e.g. ‘Tomato worm’ instead of ‘Matt’) and will vaguely tease the person about a silly incident in their youth. If stuck for ideas, use their given name but say it backwards. Try to never use the name their mother gave them, ever again.

- Remember everything you read. This way, when in a heated debate about politics, you can refer to a fact you read on a specific page in a specific book written in a specific year by an author whose entire line of historical nonfiction you own. Because most people can’t remember the details of where they heard a certain fact, and you win by default since you can so accurately cite your sources. An alternate plan is to remember what news broadcast, interviewer, interviewee, month, and year you were watching when you heard the words you’re now quoting. Most people can’t do that, either.

- Be Greek. Make sure people know you’re Greek, but make sure you don’t speak the language or follow any of the customs. Except the ones you like. Also, remember the poem you learned as an altar boy and be able to recite it in Greek, but forget what it actually means except that it “might be something about a Christmas tree.”

- When your in-laws come over, stare out the window until you know they’ve spotted you, then go around closing every blind in the house. Make them ring the doorbell at least twice before you answer. Do it every. Single. Time. If your in-laws are Alice and Armand Cote, they will find you impish and wildly hilarious.

- Work hard at anything and everything that interests you. Master it. Excel at it. Then find something else to tackle. Master that thing too.

- When your client wants to sue your boss, dig up your old carpentry skills, personally build a beautiful wooden bridge to place in the client’s yard, install it yourself, videotape the whole darn thing (and set it to music as a memento), and make a lifelong friend.

His visitation will be held Thursday, December 22, 2016 from 4-8pm at the Rock Funeral Home, 1285 Ashley Blvd, New Bedford. His Funeral will be held at 9am at the Funeral Home followed by a service at 10am at St. George Greek Orthodox Church, 186 Cross Rd., Dartmouth. Burial will be in Acushnet Cemetery. All are welcome to attend a celebration of life at the Fairfield Inn, 185 MacArthur Dr., New Bedford at 12:30pm where all are encouraged to tell their best Michael Story.

For online tributes and directions: www.rock-funeralhome.com