Memories of My Brother Galen

Galen Boyd Hackler: February 27, 1951–September 9, 2025 

In the beginning… Normandy Park, South Seattle

Like most kids from Seattle in that era, Galen Boyd Hackler was born at Swedish Hospital in Seattle, Washington, to Ruth and Vernon Hackler. We were living in a small house in Normandy Park, Washington, just north of  Des Moines, south of Seattle. Our dad was a new airline pilot for United Airlines after serving as an instructor pilot in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II. Our parents grew up in a typical Depression-era blue-collar part of St. Louis, Missouri, and moved to the Army Air Corps training base in Ocala, Florida, during WWII. And thus began their, and ultimately Galen’s, lifelong love of Florida and flying.

Galen’s arrival into our family is one of my earliest and most cherished memories. On a February 1951 day, I remember looking out the front window, seeing Mom and Dad walking up the snowy sidewalk with Mom carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle. And the front door opened, and my little brother, Galen, came home. I was four-and-a-half years older than he was, and I recall feeling excited to have a little brother. 

Galen was born with a few food allergies and childhood asthma, which affected him often in his first few years of life. One event in particular was critical when he was 2 or 3 years old. Galen had an asthma attack and was choking and not able to breathe. I remember all of us jumping into our blue 1949 fastback Oldsmobile at 10 PM on a rainy night. We raced north on Hwy 99 towards Swedish hospital in downtown Seattle, and even had a police escort—after he stopped Dad for speeding!

Well, we made it, and fortunately for the world and all of us, Galen survived. I know that single event scared our mother to death, and it was a lifelong, disturbing memory of hers. Fortunately, Galen outgrew his asthma and most allergies, except for peanuts. 

Midway House 1952

All of this happened, not long after we had moved into a brick house in Midway, Washington. It was only a few miles south of the then-tiny SeaTac International Airport, which was a convenient commute for Dad. It was an acre of semi-rural property with a barn, a big grass lawn, fruit trees, a swing set with a slide, a large garage, and plenty of space for kids and pets to run around. 

There were also many acres of forest and open spaces all around, and the new Midway Elementary School was only 1/4 mile away, at the bottom of a hill. And we had lots of neighborhood kids our age, too, which was fun. Since Galen was still a little guy then, it was a few years before he was old enough to go with me to play. In 1956, when Galen was 5, he started Kindergarten and was old enough to join me in playing with the other kids in the neighborhood. He was my little brother, and I always made sure he was OK. We were used to playing together as young kids because Seattle’s notoriously rainy, cold weather often made playing outside no fun, keeping us inside together.

As kids in the 1950s, Galen and I did what most kids did back then. We had some chores, played with neighbor kids, rode our bikes everywhere, and towed homemade wooden hydroplanes behind our bikes with playing cards in the spokes for sound effects (like all Seattle kids did). And of course we went to school. 

After a few years, we turned one third of the basement into a carpeted Rec-Room with tables for board games, card games, and building model airplanes and model cars, a piano, and a black and white TV. The rest of the basement had Mom’s old-style tub washer and hand crank ringer, a dryer, and clothes lines. Dad’s shop was at the far end. We had neighborhood friends and lots of room to run and cycle, and Mom was famous for saying, “It’s not raining, go outside and play!” 

Life in the 1950s

TVs were becoming more common at this time. There were only 3 channels, and kids’ programs were primarily on Saturday mornings. Kids’ programs included shows like The Howdy Doody Show, Fury the black stallion, Rancher and Pilot Sky King, Superman, and many more kid-oriented shows. Seasonally, Galen and I loved watching baseball games too.  

Later, Seattle TV stations also included after-school programs with fun hosts and casts of crazy characters. Clown JP Patches was a favorite of ours. Music and cartoons were standard fare for those shows. American Bandstand with Dick Clark often had our favorite rock ‘n’ roll bands, too. We also loved listening to KJR on our portable transistor radios. Some evenings included family time with Mom and Dad watching the Ed Sullivan Show and other variety and quiz shows like Groucho Marx’s You Bet Your Life, What’s My Line, and musical programs, like The Dina Shore show, and good old Lawrence Welk. 

Galen and I—like millions of other kids—also took piano lessons. Dad, Vern, was quite the musician and convinced us to learn music. We practiced for one hour every day and had lessons every Saturday. Galen and I often laughed, remembering our old maid piano teacher, Miss Elwell, with her red (left hand) and blue (right hand) pencils to write on the sheet music, and her reading glasses with the 29-cent label still printed on the lens. Galen continued playing music, switching to guitar and playing for fun, for the rest of his life. 

At the same time, Galen and I were taking swimming lessons in Angle Lake. Mom, Ruth, kept signing us up for swim lessons in June, ignoring our protests, because June is still cold and wet in Seattle! And we joked about standing there, our skinny little legs shivering in the water, concentric circles radiating out. Still, Galen and I were very glad we learned how to swim. 

In the early 1950s, our parents bought a waterfront lot at Lake Tapps, behind a small dam south of Seattle. We went there to try to swim, but the developers left the stumps from the trees harvested before the flooding, and there was a real possibility of a painful kick to a stump while swimming. Plus, the lake bottom was an uncompacted forest floor, very squishy and muddy, and it felt like we would get stuck in the mud. We didn’t like to swim there!  

On Saturday afternoons, The Des Moines theater had kids-oriented programs with adventure serials like Buck Rogers, a cartoon, and a feature movie, usually a western, all for only 10 cents. Nearby Federal Way had a roller rink with children’s hours. Dropping us off at these activities gave our parents a few hours of peace and quiet. Since Mom didn’t drive, we could only do this when Dad was home, or sometimes we’d go with neighbor kids, whose parents drove. We loved going to the movies.

Another popular weekend event was the Sunday Afternoon Drive. We usually took scenic drives in the country to see the rivers and mountains or to one of the many waterfront parks on Puget Sound. Drive-in hamburger restaurants were just becoming popular at this time, and our rides often ended up in Burien for 15¢ hamburgers, 19¢ cheeseburgers, 10¢ fries, and real ice cream malts and milkshakes for 20¢. Our parents loved soft ice cream cones, so we got them for dessert too (because a milkshake wasn’t considered dessert!). Galen liked chocolate best. 

In the mid-1950s, another fun event in cars was going to the drive-in movies. Galen and I knew we’d fall asleep in the back seat of the Oldsmobile before the kissing Tammy (Debbie Reynolds) kissed the Bachelor or Doris Day’s pillow talked. Midway Drive-In was on Highway 99 (Pacific Coast Highway), a mile or so south of us and past the legendary former roadhouse, the Spanish Castle Ballroom. Drive-in movies started late in Seattle because summer evenings were light until 9 or 10 PM. Still, it was fun for us little kids. 

Both Mom and Dad’s parents, our grandparents, were very loving and involved in our young lives. Grandpa and Grandma Hackler lived nearby in Burien, and we saw them often. Grandpa and Grandma Gehner, Mom’s sister Olga, and her husband Wes all lived in Altadena, California. We visited a few times, and Galen and I were amazed to see real live palm trees, and oranges and grapefruit growing on trees in their backyard! Galen’s first taste of the tropics—he loved it! We also spent many vacations in Florida, which Mom and Dad still loved from their earlier days in Ocala. They were searching for a place to retire to once Vern was done flying. And Galen and I both loved the warm temperatures, beaches, and ocean.

A Gentleman Rancher

Another important part of our younger years was our Dad Vern’s gentleman rancher hobby—raising chinchillas and minks for their pelts, as supplemental income. Some may remember the days when only a few could afford mink and chinchilla fur coats and shawls—before people became conscious of animal welfare, and thankfully, now refuse to wear furs. At the time, consciousness was different, but we were grateful that our dad was careful to keep us away from the euthanizing of the animals and the preparation of the pelts.

Dad did give us chores: feeding the animals (mostly the chinchillas), cleaning their cages, and helping prepare their food. The mink were another story. Our barn had a large walk-in freezer and a big workroom with stainless steel counters. Dad used mixers and grinders to make their food. Our wonderful Norwegian bachelor neighbor, Gunder, worked for Dad and did most of the work tending the animals, since Dad was often away on flying trips. 

Mink food was made fresh daily from large frozen fish and other ingredients, mixed up in a giant bread dough-making machine. The mink lived in shed-covered wire cages, and their food was plopped on the top of the cage like a raw hamburger. Chinchillas were friendly and fun, and we loved watching them writhe and roll around, giving themselves a bath in the talc dusting powder, much like birds do in a birdbath. The mink, on the other hand, were cute, weasel-like, and active—but dangerous—and would bite. Galen was bitten more than once for sticking his finger in their watering cups. Somehow, he never learned!

Mink and chinchilla

Consequently, we had a permanent supply of very stinging alcohol/glycerin disinfectant for mink bites, and many other scrapes and bruises. One of the fun things we recalled about Dad’s mink farm was going to downtown Seattle with him on bulk food-buying trips.

We’d jump into our 1947 military surplus big Dodge 4-wheel-drive Power Wagon pickup, and drive 45 minutes to the downtown waterfront docks in Seattle to buy the big blocks of stinky frozen fish and other meats that were part of the mink food mix. Downtown was pretty big to us little kids as we stared out the windows in amazement at big cargo ships, tall sailing ships, ferry boats, tall downtown buildings, and mountains in the distance. No space needle yet.

The large expanses of lawn at the house required frequent mowing, and after we were old enough, mowing and raking up grass clippings was our chore. I remember Galen, as a little kid, wanting to help me, standing in a sea of green grass clippings, learning to rake—holding an adult-sized rake handle in the middle with three feet towering overhead. Many years later, a similar scene—with Galen’s son Mike at about the same age, also holding a tall adult-sized hockey stick in the middle, with two feet towering over his head, his XL jersey hanging down to his knees, adding to the effect. Like father, like son.

A New Home on Holmes Point Drive

In 1957, Vern and Ruth sold the Lake Taps property and bought a 70-foot-wide waterfront lot, 12941 Holmes Point Drive, located on the NE shoreline of Lake Washington. In 1959, we moved from Midway to a rental house in Lake Forest Park at the north end of Lake Washington so Mom and Dad could be more involved while the new house was being designed and built. 

We went to school in Lake Forest Park in the fall, knowing we’d be moving into our brand new home in only a few short months. Galen was in 3rd grade, and I was just starting Junior Hi in 7th grade. By December, our new home was finished enough, and we moved in over the 1959/1960 Christmas holidays. 

Our Holmes Point house with Dad’s Cesna 170 float plane docked in front.

The excitement about our new lakefront home was immediate and lasting. Over the years since then, Galen and I often thanked our lucky stars that we lived there, had the friends we had, the schools we went to, and gained the life-changing love for the water and boating that became the permanent dominant feature in both of our lifestyles. 

The Start of our Boating Lifestyles

Much of the fun was using our boats to get around, to be with friends, for water skiing, shopping, and joyriding. We always thanked our parents in the same breath, because neither of them were water people, and Mom didn’t even know how to swim. So the potential for turning her boys loose out in a boat was both cautiously exciting and, in some ways, a bit terrifying for her. Galen and I were thrilled for the potential. Dad was supportive, Mom remained cautious. 

We spent the first winter and spring at the new house doing more or less what we always did—going to school, watching TV, playing board games, building model planes and cars, reading and playing outside, hiking in the woods, exploring the shorelines, riding our bikes, and meeting new kids. 

Finally, summer came, and Dad bought us an 8-foot unfinished plywood pram from Sears. Galen and I painted it white and were out in that flat-fronted rowboat all the time during that first summer. We were only allowed to go about 200 feet along the shoreline in one direction and another 200 feet in the other direction, between Anderson’s house and Coccione’s house. Always insight of Mom.  We were thrilled to be in the boat bobbing up and down in the waves, learning to row, and going nowhere fast, but at least we were on the water. 

We were only 100′ offshore and in plain sight, but it was a different world. Most of our friends had been living on the lake longer than us, and many of them already had boats, and some with small outboard motors, but we weren’t there yet. We (and our mom) were still getting our sea legs. 

The second summer, things were a lot more exciting. We got a used round-fronted flat-bottomed boat and a 1957 5.5 HP Johnson outboard, and the world out on the water took on a completely new dimension. 

Our legendary Johnson 5.5 HP

Even though the outboard was a fishing motor, it made that little boat go faster than rowing, and it was a step towards independence. Still staying in sight, but Galen and I were always pushing the envelope to go a little farther on either end—so we could still see the house (we didn’t know if mom could see us), but she never complained. And by the end of the second summer, we were all more comfortable with us being on the water and out of sight for short periods. 

Our parents also gained safety confidence from our friends being on the water out of sight from their homes. Galen got his first boat around age 10. I think it was an old hand-me-down open 8’ wood boat with our old Johnson 5.5 HP. 

Galen, in our 12′ plywood runabout.

As the years went by, and the winter school pattern continued, we grew too, as did the population of Seattle’s Eastside. Holmes Point was far away from our schools, and they built new, closer schools. Consequently, because Galen was 4.5 years younger, we did not go to any of the same schools. He went to Redmond Jr. High and graduated from Redmond HS, whereas I went to Kirkland Jr. High and graduated from Lake Washington High School in Kirkland. Both the Hackler brothers were championship cross-country and distance runners in Junior and Senior high school. And Galen parleyed his winning ways into college scholarships.

Galen (SO enthusiastic to have his photo taken!), Ruth and Kirk circa mid-1960s.

In summer, we continued the lakefront lifestyle, and as we got older, more independent, and work started getting in the way of play, we waterskied when we could. As we and our waterskiing skills grew, the boats for our waterskiing changed to bigger inboard boats—which were initially driven by our parents—until we kids became older and more capable. Waterskiing, too, became a lifelong passion for Galen and me. 

Another fun summer activity was taking our boats to camp overnight on nearby beaches with several of our neighborhood friends. Galen’s friends lived close enough to our house that he had his neighborhood friends to hang out with most of the time. And I knew his friends, but our age differences were enough that I didn’t usually hang out with them.

Seattle’s weather was always a major factor in outdoor activities. Rain, stormy winds, and cold temperatures often made outdoor activities, and especially boating, unfeasible for months at a time. The wind barrelled down long, narrow stretches of open water in Lake Washington, with nothing to block its force, creating some big waves during winter storms. Our boats were stored upside down on shore and covered for the winter season. 

And those same winds blew hundreds of tiny leaves from the neighbor’s tree into our yard. And guess had to rake them? That little boy was now tall enough to rake! Interestingly, while the fun of activities on the lake was limited to late spring through early fall, the memories of summers on the lake are much more indelible than are the events at home with each other during the many months of school.  

Galen Learns to Fly

Our Dad loved to fly airplanes, and in the mid-60s, he bought a Cessna 170 floatplane, and we built a pad on rails to store it on our beach. Flying was also a fair-weather activity. Galen and Dad flew together often. At the time, I was working and could only fly infrequently. Dad loved teaching flying, and Galen learned how to fly from Dad. Galen loved it, and flying with him helped Galen decide to follow in his footsteps as a commercial pilot. 

However, there was another family event related to Galen’s flying future. School report cards were sometimes not so fun. One year, our family of four was at the dinner table, and Galen’s math grades in beginning geometry were not so good. When Galen was asked about his low math grade, he said geometry didn’t interest him. While Mom angrily fumed, Dad reminded him that geometry and other math skills were necessary for fundamental navigation, and if he planned to become a pilot, he had to know it. Boom! Just like that, Galen saw the light and had a reason to want to understand geometry and even higher forms of math. After that, his math grades dramatically improved. 

Here’s another classic dinner table story about Galen, who was a bit of a picky eater. Cooked carrots were among his least favorite foods. Ruth, the consummate Mom, felt carrots were important for our nutrition, so she decided to chop them up very finely and camouflage them in her meatloaf. In those days—long before food processors—hand-chopping tiny carrot pieces was lots of work. None of us ever knew about the hidden carrots. However, one dinner, as we dug in, there were orange specks in the slice of Galen’s meatloaf. And oh my! Shouts of, “Traitor! Intent to poison me! What else are you sneaking into my food? Ha! I thought you loved me!?” The dust finally settled, and love prevailed. And never again did Mom secretly add ingredients to our food, as much as we know anyway! 

As wonderful as Holmes Point was, it was pretty far away from everything but the lake. And since Mom didn’t drive until later, we rode the bus to downtown Seattle to shop at Penny’s and The Bon Marche for our back-to-school clothes. These days were a special event. Seattle in the early 60s was big, but not hectic, and shopping was all walkable. Not that we necessarily agreed with the clothes Mom chose for us! A big part of the fun was lunch at the Paul Bunyon Lunch Room, with a hand-painted logger scene, in the basement of Frederick & Nelson. Frederick’s was also the only place to buy boxes of rich and tasty Frango Mints back then. 

Our home at Holmes Point was also far from our schools and their extracurricular activities; luckily, they had a school sports bus for those with after-school activities. During the school year, neither of us could go out on school nights, and we could only attend special games at school on weekends if Dad were home to drive us. 

Life in the 1960s

In the mid-60s, as Galen and I got older, we saw and spent much less time together. We both had Track and Cross Country practice in the afternoons, and I had a weekend job at Uplake Marina. We lived together at the Holmes Point house until 1965. When I graduated high school and went off to college, Galen was 14 and still in Jr. High.

Once Galen got to high school, he got his first real job—flipping pizza dough at the Pizza Inn, the first pizza parlor in Juanita, WA—and boy did he know how to flip pizzas!

For the next several years, while Galen was in high school and I was in college, we saw less of each other, as I was living in dorms or an apartment near the University of Washington. But we’d see each other when I’d come home for holidays, family visits, and sometimes for Mom to do my laundry. And Galen and I would have a great time catching up with what was going on in our lives at the time.

I visited our old Holmes Point house in 2015; the new owners were very accommodating and interested in the house history.

Run, Galen, Run!

After Galen graduated from high school in 1969, he had to make a decision. He won several Track scholarships and had his choice of attending college and running track in the Pacific Northwest or in Florida. Dad was retiring, and our parents would be moving to Sarasota, Florida, soon. Galen loved the tropics, so the choice was easy. He attended community college in Tampa for 2 years to take the basics. I stayed out west, and Galen and I would talk on the phone and see each other now and then. I recall visiting him on several occasions, living the relaxed Florida life in a neighborhood with big shady trees and Allman Brothers and other Southern rock bands, playing constantly in the background. Galen became a southern boy.

Mom always filled us in on what each other was doing. Mostly, I heard about his very successful running talents. Winner! And then he won a full-ride track scholarship to Purdue University for their pilot training program. He ran very successfully for Perdue in distance events against the nation’s best college runners. And Galen still holds a Perdue Track record (page 1, bottom left), now in second place in the 1,500-meter run; his first-place win was unbeaten from 1972 until 2021. 

The 1970s

In 1970, I graduated from college, became an officer in the Air Force, and moved from Seattle to Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas. In ‘72, I was leading a construction assignment at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio. And luckily, Galen was running at a finals track meet in nearby Indianapolis, Indiana. So I drove up to see him run. It was so exciting to go to a big meet with so many great athletes, my brother Galen among them. The next time I saw Galen was on a family visit in the San Diego area at Mom and Dad’s. (They had moved from Florida to California, and would continue moving back and forth between those two states for many years to come.)

Galen and I didn’t see each other again until 1973, when I visited him in Florida on my way to tour Europe by bicycle. I also visited him in St. Michaels, Maryland, and in Richmond, Virginia, where he was a corporate pilot for BEST products. At the time, US airlines were furloughing pilots, and while Galen was well qualified and an experienced pilot, commercial airline jobs were hard to come by. 

Another time, Galen joined me in Washington, DC, at the beginning of April 1981 while I was there for a meeting, and stayed with me a few days in my hotel room. We went to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and walked among the wonderful monuments. Luckily, Galen was too young to have experienced the Vietnam era in person. And as we walked the National Mall, I shared stories with him, recalling the many socially conscious events that happened there in the 1960s and early ’70s. 

Though neither Galen nor I was as enamored with rockets and space as we were with airplanes, we both loved Apollo 11 and man’s first walk on the moon. And the most unique event of that visit in D.C., was getting up very early on April 12, 1981, to watch the first launch of the Space Shuttle on TV in my hotel room. Quite a thrill!

Life in Seattle

Galen became a commercial airline pilot for the newly created Republic Air Lines in 1980 and moved back to Seattle from Tampa, Florida, in 1981. He bought a house in North Seattle and commuted from SEA to MSP. It was so wonderful to have him living near me again.

Galen, flying his favorite 727

One of the milestones of this era was when Galen introduced me to the newly launched MTV, and music videos were on ALL the time at his house. So fun, and so infectious to watch the very creative videos back then. I did not have cable TV yet, and had just moved into my own house in the Wallingford neighborhood of Seattle, the year before. Ironically, MTV will be going off the air Dec. 31, 2025. RIP.

Galen and I hung out often, and I helped him work on his house. He was working for Republic Airlines at that time, flying out of Minneapolis, and used Seattle as his base. Galen had a shiny black 1966 Corvette fastback at the time, and he and I would go for rides in his car—boy, was that car fun to drive! This ’66 was the first of several Corvettes Galen owned. He LOVED corvettes.

Captain Galen Hackler 

It was about this same time that Galen met the love of his life, Ann, and her young son, Mike. Ann was a flight attendant for Republic, and ironically, they met on a layover in Puerto Vallarta! Galen was flying the Boeing 727 and loved it, as did most of the other pilots who flew it. Coincidentally, our Dad was one of the first 727 pilots in the US, and he loved flying that plane too. Galen and Dad had many discussions about it. Differences in policies between Republic Airlines and United Airlines were also often part of their discussions. 

Ann, Galen, and Mike

Galen and Ann loved flying for Republic, but change is constant, and Republic was so successful that Northwest Airlines purchased it to remove its competition. The way seniority was handled during that merger affected the rest of Galen’s career, with loss of opportunities to fly bigger planes and other routes, which went to the original Northwest pilots first—but he was always graceful about it, and never bitter. Later, Northwest was bought by Delta, which he felt was better than the previous merger.

Ann & Galen, visiting us at our Wallingford, Seattle house

Northwest Airlines flew to Seattle, San Francisco, and other hubs with 24+ hour layovers in those destinations. So Galen often bid those trips to spend time in Seattle and other cities. He came to visit us many times and sailed with us in races or to overnight anchorages. So much boating fun. 

Ann & Galen on Orcas Island, WA

Galen collected classic ’60s and ’70s rock posters. And one of his most prized experiences was on a San Francisco layover. He visited the classic rock venue Fillmore West, and randomly found a stage door open with no one around…Galen stood alone on that historic stage, thinking of all the greats and the fabulous music they’d played there. Bravo Galen!!!

Galen “Bootzy Collins”

End of an Era

Parents Ruth and Vern, and Aunt Olga were all living in Sun City, California. In the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, all three passed on within a few months of each other. Galen, Ann, Heidi, and I flew to celebrate their lives and help with final arrangements. 

Kirk, Heidi, Aunt Olga, Ann, and Galen, 1990s

One of the most interesting finds while finalizing their estates was the discovery of hundreds of United Airlines travel pass tickets in their garage. Mom and Dad did not understand post-retirement airline benefits, and that these tickets could have been used by any of us for our frequent trips to visit them, instead of us purchasing tickets each time. Se la vie! 

Vern & Ruth Hackler, late 1990s, Southern Caifornia

While the reason for these last family visits to Southern California was bittersweet goodbyes, they were also opportunities to enjoy fun times with Galen and Ann. 

The Minnesota Waterskiing Years

Galen and I drifted away from waterskiing after high school until Galen and Ann moved to Prior Lake, Minnesota, outside of Minneapolis. (As I recall, he did waterski some in Florida while he was there for school.) Summer visits to Ann and Galen’s home on the lake were an absolute blast. So much waterskiing and family fun. 

Their son Mike was a little guy and loved Galen very much. And it was mutual. We made several trips from Seattle to visit them in the 80s and 90s with the goal of family fun, waterskiing, waterskiing, and more waterskiing. Our visits often included dinners with their many friends around the lake, too. 

That one time Galen’s hair was nearly as long as mine!

​​Galen was a great dad to Mike. He was always very consistent with boundaries, so Mike knew exactly what was expected. A rule was a rule. One year, when Mike was about 12, the rule was “only one other kid in Mike’s Boston Whaler at a time.” It was the end of summer, the day to pull the boat out of the water and put away the dock for the winter.

Mike had two neighbor boys over and was only going to be moving his boat a couple of hundred feet for the last time. Both boys got in the boat with Mike, and Galen said, “Mike, what’s the rule about your friends in the boat?” Mike begged and pleaded, “Oh come on, it’s the last day, and we’re only going a few feet.” But Galen held fast, a rule was a rule… Next summer, Mike could have two kids in the boat with him. Later, as an adult, Mike thanked Galen for his steadfast consistency.

Galen and Mike loved playing ice hockey on their lake in the winter

Galen at the helm of one of his many boats

We had so much family fun practicing trick skiing on one ski, behind Ann and Galen’s beautiful Ski Nautique. Mike was a natural, and as a young kid, he often caught on to water ski tricks faster than Galen or me. Conversely, with all the summer fun, winters in Minnesota are cold and snowy. Galen often commented on this, and I recall a phone call one winter eve when his first words were “It’s 30 below and blowing a blizzard! What am I doing here?”  

The Florida Years

Soon after, Galen and Ann retired from Delta, said goodbye to Minnesota with its cold winters, and moved to Naples, Florida, for good. For many years before they retired, Ann & Galen would winter in Florida and commute to Minnesota to fly. We enjoyed lots of fun visits with them in the Keys and aboard their boats. Mike is a fantastic chef and had moved to Naples earlier to work in a family friend’s restaurant. And several of their friends were already living in Naples or were Snowbirds there, so it was a good fit.

Galen, Ann, Heidi, and Kirk, Florida Keys

Miami Vice

We always enjoyed visiting Galen and Ann at their homes in Naples, walking the pups in their neighborhood, kayaking on the snaking water channels throughout the community, and their richly social community club with regular Friday night dinner socials. Wonderful events among good friends, we were always warmly welcomed, and over the years, their friends became our friends too. 

Making beer was one of Galen’s retirement hobbies.

Galen also loved being a grandpa and hanging out with Mike’s kids, Mav and Ky.

Florida, and especially the southern part, including the Naples/Fort Myers and Keys, has a fantastic myriad of mangrove and open Gulf of Mexico waters to explore by boat. Everywhere Galen lived, he always had boats, and Florida was no exception. When visiting Ann and Galen, we always loved our boating. Two of these trips are the most memorable. 

The first trip was in the Florida Keys in a 24’ center-console open Boston Whaler with 150 HP outboard. Galen knew the way (without any charts or a chart plotter), and piloted us into the maze of twisting mangrove-swamp channels. We anchored in such a way to keep the bow into the waves, against a tidal current from the side. A clever boating experience added to the boating fun. The second trip was in a 40′ cruiser that Galen and Ann had in Naples. Another trip into the mangroves, turning right and left over and over, and suddenly a restaurant appeared out of the mangroves. Their cruiser had an electronic chartplotter this time, showing our track.

Boating with family and friends, including the late Steve Painter (top right), and Mike, Mav, and Ky (below)

Galen had a friend named Larry, raised in the Florida Keys, who was a fishing guide living aboard a small houseboat anchored in a lake-like opening, deep in the middle of the mangroves. One full-moon night, his friends (including Ann & Galen, and us) were ferried from shore to the houseboat for an unforgettable party. The main purpose was to play a dice game called “Left, Right, Center,” where, based on the roll of the dice, a player moves quarters in those directions. Center goes onto the pot. The last person left in the game gets lucky and takes home the pot! Midnight deep in the Florida mangroves, full moon shining, oh what an unforgettable party! We always enjoyed our time boating with Galen and Ann and their friends so much.

Visiting us in Vallarta

We learned of Galen’s diagnosis with ALS during a family Zoom call. Fortunately, his type was slow-moving, which allowed life to be more or less normal for a while, with capabilities and activities dropping off little by little, with his right arm being the first to be seriously impaired. Galen adapted and became a southpaw. 

Galen and a few of his guy friends meet weekly for Tuesday morning brunch. Great conversations with strong coffee and everyone’s favorite breakfasts. With a rotating seasonal population of friends, some are full-time residents, and some are snowbirds who are only there for the winter, there’s always something going on. Interestingly, Galen loved living in the tropics but not so much the summer heat. He chose his times carefully to be outside in the summer. 

Fortunately, in the last few years, we were able to visit often, and I got to spend time with my dear brother, Galen. Throughout our lives, we always remained great friends, never a fight between us. We talked and talked and shared as long as he could. Finally, as mostly an observer of life, he listened as I talked about our lives. Many stories he had heard before, but had forgotten. One of the most amazing things about Galen, even with the loss of so many capabilities, literally, until the day he died, he could drive his electric wheelchair with his left hand (which couldn’t do anything else); he drove flawlessly through the door to the garage, up the ramp into the wheelchair accessible van, and rotated to face forward. Bravo brother!!! 

The last time we saw Galen, he accompanied Ann early in the morning, driving us to the airport after a bittersweet visit. He had declined so rapidly in the few days we were there. He was waiting for his big brother to say goodbye and wish him well on his next journey. That night, he went to sleep and never woke up.

Galen was a wonderful son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, friend, track star, pilot, yacht captain, musician, and all-around great guy. On that, all who knew and loved him agree. Your life on this earth was too short; however, we see you as a swallow, flying, swooping, and gliding, in the sunrises, the sunsets, and in the night sky. You are always with us now, and your smile is everlasting. We love you, Gaze Boy.