Michael “Skogie” Candreva was born in Rockville Centre, New York on December 1st, 1960. Mike took his last peaceful breaths on Monday October 21st after a fearless, 11- month battle, with pancreatic cancer. Mike’s short 58 years were full one’s. Mike was an outdoorsman. He hunted (rifle and archery) and fished. He built his own fly rod and tied his own flies. For a couple years Mike competed in local marathons, biathlons and triathlons. He proudly took 5th place in his age group for his efforts in the Arizona State Biathlon Championship Series 1990-91. Mike was a rock climber. He loved sharing his adventure stories like spending the night on top of Tom’s Thumb after a challenging ascent. He was an avid cyclist, riding with many of the Arizona bicycle clubs. Mike and his wife were members of the C.O.Y.O.T.E.S. (The Coalition of Young and Old Tandem Enthusiasts). He also loved mountain bike riding. Mike spent time with his family camping, hiking, canoeing, and kayaking many Arizona Lakes and waterways. Scenic Blue Ridge Reservoir was one of his favorite places to go. Mike was registered with Geocaching.com. He spent many hours in search of caches. He loved the challenges of the multi-caches.
Young Mike was a carpenter building condos and custom homes in PA while still in high school. Mike pushed himself to excel at whatever he put his mind to. He transformed himself into an auto technician with the highest distinction; I-CAR Platinum Certification. Mike worked at three local dealerships since moving to Arizona in 1986. He was also certified in aluminum welding and repair. Mike was equally skilled in auto mechanics repair as he was auto body repair. He repaired/replaced windows and played with paintless dent techniques.
Mike is survived by his wife of 38 years, Donna (Evers), daughter Angela, son MAC and daughter-in law Kat (Riedel), mother and father; George and Kathryn, brothers and sister in laws; Phil and Ilene, Pete and Vanessa, sisters; Anne and Teresa Wilson, and Uncle Msgr. Thomas Candreva.
Visitation will be held on Monday, October 28, 2019 from 5:00-8:00 PM with a prayer service, Divine Mercy Chaplet, and time for eulogies beginning at 7:00 PM at Whitney & Murphy Funeral Home, 4800 E. Indian School Rd., Phoenix. A Funeral Mass will be held on Tuesday, October 29, 2019 at 10:00 AM at St. Bernadette’s Catholic Church, 16245 N. 60th St., Scottsdale.
George Wagner
Just wanted to pass along my condolences on the passing of Mike.
It’s the circle of life, and it moves us all, through despair and hope,
through faith and love, ’till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
–John, Elton, The Lion King
Again, Condolences on your loss.
George “Butch” Wagner
Dick Katie Booton
Dear Donna and family: We are so sorry to hear about the passing of Mike. Please know our thoughts and prayers are with you during this very difficult time. Mike was one amazing young man.
Dick Katie Booton
(C.O.Y.OT.E.S)
Thomas D. Candreva
Dear Donna and family,
I offered Mass for Mike this morning and you all have been in my thoughts and prayers these days.
I wish distance had not kept us from sharing more family life . Much love, Tom
Philip J. Candreva
Dear friends of Mike / Skogie. A couple of people asked that I post a copy of my eulogy here. Here is the text:
Thank you all for coming to honor Mike and comfort his family.
I am Mike’s little brother, Phil. Along with Mike’s other siblings, Anne-Marie, Terri, and Pete, we appreciate your prayers, hugs, support, and condolences.
I am only 14 months younger than Mike. Because Mike had a slight build, for much of our childhood we were about the same size and were sometimes treated like twins. We wore identical clothes except his were blue (or red) and mine were green (or brown), probably a memory aid for our Mom because they matched our eye colors. During our adult life, I had about 2 inches and 40 (or more) pounds on Mike, but I was always the Little Brother, not the Younger Brother. Why? Mike was a BIG man. Because I was taller than Mike, I may have looked down on him in physical space, but I have always looked up to him in emotional and relational space. And I know I also speak for my sisters and my younger – uh, little – brother.
Why did I look up to Mike? Three reasons: he was industrious, he was authentic, and he was courageously adventurous.
The industrious Mike always had a job, even as a kid. Whether that was a paper route, at a kennel, on a farm, as a carpenter, or in a garage, he was never idle. When we were in Little League together he insisted on being the catcher because he wanted to be in on the action with every batter. He earned enough as a teen to buy his first car – at a younger age than any of the rest of us did. A 1972 dark green Ford LTD. Maybe that’s why he worked so long at a Ford dealership.
Shortly after high school, he struck a deal with the owner of 5-Points Deli in our Pittsburgh suburb to restore some gas pumps and a garage. He was a young entrepreneur in his early 20s. There, he fully renovated a mid-60s Mustang in a flashy pink and purple metallic flake for Donna. She could not go anywhere without people noticing that car from ½ mile away. During his illness, he continued working longer than anyone expected and even upgraded the doors and windows in the family home.
The authentic Mike spoke his mind. He did not suffer fools. He was faithful, loving, and dedicated. He had a great sense of humor. As children, he and Anne-Marie would get into uncontrollable giggling fits at the dinner table and would be banished to their rooms only to eat the snacks they had hidden there, anticipating that eventuality.
Mike had a keen sense of fairness and justice. Once when he was kid, Mom & Dad grounded him, unfairly in his eyes, so he pulled the screen out of the bedroom window, climbed onto the porch roof, plunged into the shrubbery below, and just let himself out of jail.
He made no bones about telling his annoying siblings to bug off at times, but he also understood when we needed to be included. I always treasured those moments with my big brother.
It’s probably the adventurous and courageous Mike that we will remember most. The past few months have been a beautiful juxtaposition of joy and suffering.
The joyful part has been reminiscing about tackle football games with no pads or helmets that typically ended because one or more of us had a bloody nose. Evel Knievel ramps to see how far we could jump our bicycles. Channeling the spirit of our Native American ancestor and learning how to walk silently through the woods, throw a hatchet, and Mike’s Indian alarm clock – just drink a lot of water before bed so you have to pee early in the morning.
We explored trails and swung like Tarzan on vines in the woods, and occasionally fell into the creek. He would catch salamanders with his bare hands for Pete. In hot summers we shared ice cold root beer while watching pony pulling competitions at our neighbor’s corral. And one frigid winter, I watched him strap on skis and get towed behind a snowmobile like he was water skiing on snow.
One summer, Mike and Anne-Marie found a berry bush and decided to have a battle with them. They picked hundreds and threw them at one another, and shoved them down each other’s shirts, getting covered in berry juice – poison sumac berry juice. The next day they were in pain, itching and swelling just as we left on a family vacation, sweltering in the way back of a station wagon with no air conditioning. A few days of agony, and years of laughter.
Mike took hundreds of bicycle and motorcycle rides. Starting with trips to 5-Points to buy atomic fire balls for a penny from his allowance, and continuing until recently. And there were a few crashes. And he would get up, dust himself off, smile, and ride on.
Finally, his courage was manifest in the way he faced a disease that ruthlessly took him away from his beloved bicycle, that left him too weak to go fishing or hiking, and just when the toughest among us would be expected to feel a lot of self-pity, Mike showed us just how big he was.
The author David Brooks wrote about two types of virtues. The first are the résumé virtues which are economic in nature; the skills you bring to the marketplace, positions you held, school degrees and credentials. The things that drive many of us. And he wrote about eulogy virtues: these are the things people talk about at your funeral – whether you were kind, wise, honest, faithful, a loving father and husband. During our lives, most of us focus on the résumé virtues – they are the ones that bring us fame, fortune and social status, but they often conflict with our eulogy virtues. Mike was a rare man who lived his life the way we all should: industriously, authentically, and courageously. Make no mistake. Mike was economically successful and provided well for his family, but that was not true north on his compass. He lived by higher virtues.
We looked up to our BIG brother and he will continue to be a role model in our memories.
Paul Brownlow wrote, “It’s true that we only live here once, but if we do it right, once is enough.” Mike sure as hell did it right.