Prayers for My Brother and my Aunt on my Father's Passing

I don't write many obituaries, plus I like funny stories, so do not grade my work too harshly.

I simply ask for prayers for my Step-Aunt Katherine and for my brother Chris, who are both devastated by my Dad's passing.

Charles Cavanaugh "Chuck" Hancock Jr, passed peacefully in his sleep today, succumbing to the gradual but relentless onslaught of Parkinson's Disease. He was 85.

He was born and raised in Imperial, California, the dry, hot not-quite-a-desert region east of San Diego.

His father was the Principal and history teacher at Imperial High; his mother taught english and math. He was always brilliant and was a straight-A student, president of his class and the student body, valedictorian, and captain of the football, basketball, and track teams. He was a great small-town athlete with no real future in that area, but he was hard working and bound for success.

His parents told him to apply to Stanford, a school he had never even seen, and he got a full academic scholarship. I still have the letter telling him the school would pay the whole $660 annual tuition.

He loved Stanford. he joined a frat, partied too much as a freshman, but made good grades and joined the USAF ROTC.

He met my mother at Stanford. She was decorating a gym for a dance and was up on a ladder. He thought she had a nice ass, asked her out, and they were off. If not for that ladder, my brother and I would not exist.

Before his senior year he and my mom rented an apartment near the beach in L.A. He had his mom's car, fresh from the paint shop, and he tripped while walking around it and gawking at scantily clad women, and dented the trunk. His mom was, needless to say, less than pleased. He said he couldn't remember what he told my mom about how it happened but that he was pretty damn certain he lied.

They married after graduation, he got his officer's commision for the USAF, and spent some time in missile silo duty in Kansas (?). He was then sent to Sumter, South Carolina in 1959, where my brother Chris was born. The less said about that time the better.

They were then sent to Abilene Texas AFB (Dyess?), where I was born in 1962 while he got a Master's at Texas Tech. Having me brought out a serious case of M.S. in my mom, but it went into remission afterward.

Next stop was Seoul, Korea as a Major, where we spent two years. He and my mom would leave us kids with the maid and take their Barracuda into the korean countryside where no cars had gone before -- ox cart paths, no mechanics, no gas stations. Just two foreigners out exploring. Good times.

Before we left Korea in 67(?) he told my Mom he was going to volunteer for Vietnam -- he felt the USAF would send him there no matter what, so he wanted to go on his own terms. He said they fought about it for months.

Before he could get back to the states and volunteer, he got a letter sending him to Nam anyway. Said he was pissed -- all that arguing for nothing.

Evidently the letter was also quite weird -- not written very normally. He read it to my mom and said "This has gotta be one of those spook outfits". Sure enough it was -- he served with the highly secretive MAC-V-SOG and returned with a chest full of medals. He got nominated for the Air Force Cross but got the Distinguished Service Medal instead. His bosses were always kinda pissed about that, and my dad was not too pleased either, but thought it was a great honor just to be considered.

(He was in theater during spraying of Agent Orange, a known cause of Parkinson's. He was always entitled to large payouts from the USAF for exposure but refused to apply -- said his pension was already enough.)

He then spent five years in Torrance, CA working on Titan rockets (?). As a true patriot, he wanted to adopt a korean or Vietnamese daughter of an American serviceman, as he knew they were shunned in their societies. My mom would have none of it -- I think two rambunctious boys was all she could handle.

In later years he said he always wanted a daughter; maybe that's why he so adored my three girls. I asked if that also meant that as the second born son I was a disappointment; he said yes I was but that I made up for it by marrying well.

We then moved to Reston VA while he was stationed at the Pentagon. He went back to L.A. for 1 year to satisfy service requirements, as my mom's M.S. had come back with a vengeance and he wanted her in D.C. near Bethesda NNMC -- best experts at the time.

By 1977 he had been in for 22 years and was ready for promotion to full Colonel, but it would have come with a transfer and he felt he could not do that to my mother. Despite being a lifer destined to make general, he retired.

Because vets were still considered pariahs at that time, he took a class at the Pentagon on how to disguise his service on his resumé. He applied to run the ASBC (now ASBMB), and in an interview before the board one lady said "Your resumé is very impressive, but just where did you work for the last 22 years?"
"Maam, I was in the Air Force."
"Then why didn't you just say that?"
"Because if I did I wouldn't be here."
At which point another lady chimed in "He's right, you know!"
He figured he was boned, but on the way out he ran into one of the ladies on the board. Her son and I both went to snooty St. Albans in D.C. and got to chatting; he said he thinks that what got him the job. So hey, having me actually came in handy at least once.

(During all this, while I was in grade school, my mom's M.S. affected her brain, her personality did a 180, and they eventually divorced. I was kinda unaware -- my brother was older and understood it all better.)

He was Executive Director of the ASBMB for 25 (?) years, a cushy job that allowed him to travel the world. He did an oustanding job by all accounts and finally retired at 67.

At some point my Dad screwed up and told my brother Chris that he had considered naming him Charles Cavanaugh Hancock III , but thought it would be too big a burden. My brother was bummed, never forgot, and later named his first son Charles Cavanaugh Hancock IV just to needle him. My dad thought he was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Well. he only thought that for ten years. When my wife and I were stuck on a name for our 3rd daughter, I took advantage of her post-delivery drug-induced delerium and named the baby Candace Cavanaugh Hancock III -- CCH3 -- to fill in the family blank. Still the hardest I have ever laughed on the phone -- neither my brother nor my Dad would believe me and kept insisting that I put my wife on the phone with the real name.

After my mom passed @ 1984 he got remarried too soon to a psychotic bitch in 1986 -- she went from being a very highly paid beltway consultant to a crazy cat lady, so yeah. They got divorced in the mid 1990's.

He started doing the Kyle Petty Charity Ride in the 90's and also reconnected with my mom's step sister -- their parents married when my mom was in her late 20's. Sound's weird, but it wasn't -- my mom adored Katherine and so did we.

She remained his girlfriend until he passed. She lived in San Fran, he lived in D.C , and they were both too stubborn to compromise and move. He was the love of her life.

Maybe around 2003 he tripped getting off his bike, broke his leg and hip, and ended up with 1 leg shorter than the other. He was never quite the same but never complained.

Around that time Parkinson's set in. He and Katherine travelled the world for a while, but his mobility went relentlessly downhill.

Finally in 2015, he moved to South Florida to be near me and watch his granddaughters grow up. I am eternally grateful.

He gave me his prized 50th anniversary vette, which I gave to my daughters. He could barely stand but could still somehow get into that damn thing, but realized he would never forgive himself if he hurt somebody driving in his condition.

He moved into an independent living facility but was moved to skilled nursing care after Parkinson's attacked while he had a serious bout of the flu.

He never complained about Parkinson's or his situation throughout all of it -- he stayed positive but realistically so. The people at the nursing home always said he was of their favorite residents.

He had been confined to a wheelchair for the last 4 years, bur we brought him to kid's sporting events, family trips, everywhere. Brought him home 6 days a month. My wife, who adored him, took him to lunch once a week. He adored all the girls, but especially C.C., his namesake and the most mischievious of the bunch.

Last February I would have said he had 3 to 5 good years left, but a year of near complete isolation due to COVID really took its toll. The loneliness did him in.

It got to where he couldn't chew or swallow three weeks ago. He declined a feeding tube, went on hospice, and finally passed.

My brother works in nursing homes as a P.T. He is devoted to his patients and has an amzing attitude, no matter how depressing the environment can be. I think that is why this is so hard for him -- seeing his own father pass in the same kind of place. Please pray that he may find peace.

My step-aunt Katherine never married. My dad was her one true love, so she has been taking this really hard, has no siblings, and feels all alone. Please pray that she may find peace.

He was a great man -- intelligent, well-spoken, principled, knowledgable, funny, kind, and generous. Plus he always laughed at my jokes (okay, that may not actually be a plus). RIP, Pops, RIP.

 

Your Pops sounds like a very good man.
You tell your families story well, I hope you find peace. ( All of you )
RIP CCH2.

 

Thoughts and prayers for you and your family.

 

Thoughts and prayers sent your way. Thanks for the back story, lots of pride in your family line!

 

Praying for comfort for you all Steve

 

thoughts and prayers for you and family, God Bless.

 

Thoughts and prayers for you and your family

 

My prayers are with you and your family. Your Dad would have been touched, proud, and probably annoyed by your eulogy you wrote about him. God speed from another Viet Nam vet.

 

God Speed Pops, may God comfort you all under his Righteous Right Hand.
Its hard to lose a Dad,I lost mine at 25 and there isn't a day goes by I don't think about him,sometimes with a tear. Remember past experiences and treasure those moments.

 

I’m glad you wrote that. It was touching to read. He sounds like a hell of a dude; you did him well. I hope and pray you all have strength and comfort.
Patrick

 

Thoughts and prayers to you and your family.

 

Nice Job, we will keep you and your family in our prayers.. I lost my Dad nine years ago yesterday, so I know where your at.

JW

 

May he rest in peace,prayers to you all,hope that you can cope better with your loss.Bruno .

 

Wow Steve, so sorry to hear about your family's loss. What a cool story. Thank you for sharing!!! Thoughts and prayers to you and everyone in your family. Your Dad sounded like an awesome, dedicated, patriotic person. God Bless!

 

So sorry for you and your families loss Steve

 

Sorry for your loss. Parkinson’s is a terrible disease. Thank you for your dad’s service. He sounds like a great person. I hope you and your family find peace

 

Thanks for sharing your dad's excellent life summary, in your own inimitable way.

I hope your memories of him are a comfort and will pray for you and your family.

 

RIP Pops - great obit btw

 

Your obit touched my heart and made me laugh, very well written. Your Dad sounded like a good man. Prayers to you and your family, hope they can find peace in celebrating Dad's life instead of his sad passing.