Michael Kaye Morrison

He was a writer, a soldier, an executive and most importantly to him — a husband, father and grandfather. He survived the 70s, played catch with his kids, barbecued brats, sang when it was called for and kept baseball scores by hand when stadium programs were a thing. If fatherhood was an Olympic sport, he would have medaled. He disliked bragging and lying. He was somewhat skeptical of people with a full head of hair. His mustache was epic.

He loved a good story, yellow mustard on a hot dog, the majesty of nature, and watching an elegant running back. He took his martini very cold, very dry. He remains a Cubs fan, regardless of their record. He never judged anyone who could not find the courage to do what they needed to do. He was quietly generous and hugged like he meant it. He liked long drives. He married his high school sweetheart, Pauline Monti. They were married for almost 58 years.

In his 20s, he was drafted into the Vietnam War and served as a Naval Officer and Explosive Ordnance Disposal Frogman in the Mekong Delta. Apocalypse Now was the only Vietnam film that resonated with him. He received a Bronze Star with Combat Valor for a night of bravery that almost didn’t give way to sunrise. Few things scared him, not even snakes or disarming bombs.

In his 30s, he was a public relations and communications executive at Blue-Cross Blue Shield in Chicago. In his 40s, he was a communications executive at RJ Reynolds in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He then became speechwriter and confidant to Chrysler Corporation CEO, Lee Iacocca, and was considered to be one of the best speechwriters in America at that time. In retirement, he taught himself how to make a mean shrimp and grits and a wild boar sauce with pappardelle. Golf wasn’t his game.

Mike fished some of the best rivers in the world — the North Platte in Wyoming, The Kenai in Alaska and the Río Chimehuin and Río Collon Cura in Argentina. He hunted pheasant in the Dakotas. He knew Asia like the back of his hand. He loved visiting his wife’s family in Italy. His passport was full.

He had dexterity with words. They were his lifeblood, and an inspiration for others to use them properly and creatively. Jack London, Robert Service, Poe, Kipling and Hemingway were usually in his backpack. He was awestruck by Gabriel García Márquez’s levitating priest. Like the best scriptwriting, he didn’t fill in the blanks in life — he steered you closer.

He was spiritually at peace at the end.

Mike is survived by his wife, Pauline Morrison of Southport; his sons Justin Morrison (and wife Stephanie) of Fairfield, Connecticut; Dan Morrison (and wife Lianne) of Alexandria, Virginia; and grandchildren Sam, Anders and Charlie.

A mass will take place at noon on Friday, October 18, 2024 at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Southport, North Carolina, followed by a Celebration of Life at Members Club in St. James, North Carolina. A military funeral will take place at Arlington National Cemetery at a later date.

A shout out to the SECU Hospice House in Bolivia, North Carolina for what they do so well. Mike was a volunteer with the Hospice House for five years and spent his final days there.

In lieu of flowers, consider donations to some combination of causes that Mike believed in and supported, SECU Hospice House, Bolivia NC, Sacred Heart Church, Southport, NC, Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Monroe Michigan, and St. Philip Catholic Central High School, Battle Creek, Michigan (Battle Creek Area Catholic Schools).

Online condolences may be made at the funeral home's website.

Peacock - Newnam & White Funeral and Cremation Service, Southport, North Carolina.