Michael Wehmeyer

MIKE WEHMEYER

SOME THINGS YOU PROBABLY DIDN’T KNOW. AN EXTRAORDINARY MAN.

Mike loved oysters—steamed, on the half shell, smoked, you name it—and he’d slurp those babies down like butter, only when Mom was gone.

He made the best breakfast you’ve ever eaten, which is maybe why French Toast, his French Toast, is my favorite.

He could grill a mean steak, and run out the propane tank at the same time.

He loved his 1994 Nissan pickup; in the heat of the arid August Montana summers, he simply rolled down the window and proudly proclaimed “I don’t need damn air conditioning!” Before he died, he went out onto the back porch and said goodbye to his truck.

He married my mom, Sue in May 1990. Papa was the love of her life, and she was his. He was dedicated, loyal, and had a dry sense of humor delivered with a deadpan face. For a brief moment, it felt like sandpaper, and you never really knew if he was joking until moments later when he’d crack that smile and give a deep belly chuckle. They were best friends—true partners in life.

In his final days, we sat together on the front porch – me, Mom, and Papa, just enjoying one another’s company. Taking in the beauty of the neighborhood, the peaceful nature of the big maple tree he planted swaying in the gentle breeze. We cried. Mom went into the house, and he looked at me and simply said, “Take care of her for me.” I cried more, and all I that could choke out was a muddled “I promise Papa.” He was always selfless like that. He didn’t want to leave us, but true to his dry sense of humor, he looked at me with a cracked smile and a tear and said, “Well I’m not thrilled about dying either!” And that was the last time we sat on the porch.

WHAT EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT PAPA

Is that he was kind, compassionate, wise, and generous of heart. He was also athletic, quiet, a lead-by-example kind of guy, and a person with extraordinary personal ethics. He loved his friends, and cherished his family.

His artistic talent went well beyond what most people saw. Ya, he was a fabulous carpenter – he remodeled houses, made furniture, built decks, cabinets, you name it; he

could build it masterfully. He worked hard as a finish carpenter and left beautiful marks on the homes of Missoula, in my home, and probably in yours. Everywhere you look, there is something that Papa made, touched, loved. If you were lucky, you saw his paintings – oil on canvas. Considering I can’t draw stick people, I have always been in awe of his masterful paintings hanging on the walls. He won awards for his paintings - none for rock dotting but nearly as beautiful! He considered my snot-nose brother, Jon, and me his kids; it is our privilege.

In 1985, he finished his BA and went to work at a desk job. While he loved his bosses (Hey, Goodrichs & Kleinkopfs), he couldn’t sit at a desk, so back to pounding nails he went.

In 1998 Mike became Papa to his first grandson, Erik. Mom insisted they each have different names than the usual Grandma and Grandpa – and Papa was crowned. Those two yahoos did everything together; gardening, building forts, and yes, playing on the roof of the garage “hey, we’re working” they said. “OMG” I said! His prodigious love for that little boy, now a young man is unmatched. Papa also loved his next grandsons, Brandan and little brother Jaxon, (parents Jon and Sarah Gauthier) and my hubby, Pat’s son Aidan.

Chuck and Beth Kaparich encouraged Papa to carve. A master carver, Chuck handed Papa some tools and taught him the trade in his garage. Eventually, they would work together for 5 years on the Carousel in downtown Missoula. Mom cut and colored real horse hair tails.

He was a “birder.” Sibley’s bird book in arm, he would challenge his friends Larry Wade and Jerry Dirnberger to see how many new birds that they could identify in a day. Ninety-eight one day at Trout Creek!

Mom begged him to go to Arizona for the winter; he finally relented in 2012 and that turkey LOVED it. They followed their good friends Michael & Penny Creighton to Mesa, AZ where they spent the last 12 winters in a 55+ RV/condo park, meeting fun new friends and enjoying the weather. Papa was part of the group that helped bring pickleball to Fort Missoula; give him a racket and the game was ON! Nary a challenger went undefeated. So much so they bought a place down South – extending their “we’ll just be gone a few months” to “we don’t know when we’re coming back.” They loved their summer camp for old people, and playing the sport he so loved with the people he loved even more.

Papa built furniture for the Saint Johns XXIII Catholic Church and my Mom made the 30-foot-tall symbolic banners (I said “Jesus banners” but Mom made me change it). His parents were so very proud of him!

He and Mom traveled to the Hawaiian Islands several times with long-time besties Pam and Bill Goodrich. Someone convinced them it was a good idea to ride mules down the world’s steepest sea cliffs to the leper colony. Don’t ask me about that; ask Mom. I'm pretty sure they slugged down a few beers afterward.

Papa never really retired; he just cleared time to golf. Larchmont was his favorite course, where he and his gang of best buddies battled it out: Jack, Dave, Tony (recently deceased) Paul, Frank, and Lloyd, all golfed nonstop. I’m fairly certain they slugged down a few beers there, too.

Many years ago he and his nephew, Eric Jensen went fly fishing in a fine wooden canoe down Bitteroot river; with a boil and toil, the angry river flipped their canoe over and spat them out. Drenched and nearly drowned, they both vowed never to set their butts in that canoe again. Papa came home and cut that thing in half, turning it into a bookshelf. Indeed, they both loved to fish but they never went canoeing again.

Mom’s sisters, Sandy Codman (Fred) Carmen & Kyle, Elliot and Noah and Sherry Chappel (Frank) Angela, Kylie & Christy, have offered unwavering support to her, which she is so very grateful for.

In 2020, he welcomed his sister-in-law, Wilma Gauthier, to live in their mother-in-law apartment. They all got along quite swimmingly. Secretly, I think Papa liked having two honey-do lists. Well three if you count Brenda Holland!

In 2023, after returning home from his summer camp for old people, he was diagnosed with esophageal / stomach cancer, brought to him courtesy of Philips Respironics’ DreamStation. A medical device that should have added years to his life; instead, cut him down in his golden years. He unknowingly breathed poison for nine years – the entire length of use of the machine, Philips knew all along and did nothing. Honor him, save a life by checking your family’s respiratory device and make sure it’s not manufactured by Philips Respironics.

Mom would like to give a huge shout out of support for the prayers. cards, flowers, phone calls and visits she received from their friends and relatives all over the US, Canada, Mexico and Australia. Its very comforting to her. Don’t be afraid to call her or stop by the house. She knows you don’t know what to say but it’s OK, HUGS are healing.

Our beloved Papa, Michael Ray Wehmeyer was born in 1947 in Brewster, WA, to parents Sally and Ray Wehmeyer. Siblings, sister Pat Jensen, husband Wally, their sons Chris Jensen, Brian Jensen and wife Sarah (Chloe, Norah, Phoebe) Eric Jensen (deceased) wife Jennifer (Sophia, Jorja, Gracie) and Anthony Jensen & wife Krystal (Devante, Arrora). Brother Kirk & wife Marilyn (Tanner & wife Toni, kids Trevor & Autumn). Michael & Hannah, (kids Charlie & Jude), Kim (deceased) and Sydney, Violet and Sam.

He passed away on July 7, 2024. Papa’s last wish was that his body be donated to science. He gave everything in life to those he loved, and he continues to give in death with an anatomical gift so others may learn. A celebration of life will be determined at a later date. I’m thinking it should be many beers and pickle-golf – is that a thing?

Papa loved us all unwaveringly, so we will love him, miss him, remember him, work to make him proud, and we will carry him with us, in joy and honor, every day for the rest of our days.

A personal farewell from my Mom, Sue: Mikey, You have been the love of my life for 42 wonderful years. You took me and my kids (Renee & Jon) as a package deal. We have had an exciting, memorable life together. You taught me about art, skiing, golf &, theater and I taught you how easy it is to make friends and how to enjoy music and dance. With the help of our family and friends, I will somehow make it out of this fog that I am spinning in. With my heart overflowing with love, it was my honor to care for you this last year and its been Hell to watch you suffer with with incredible determination and dignity. I will love you and keep you in my heart forever, Poopsie. I can’t wait to see you on the other side.