REMEMBERING
MIKE QUANE
A Memorial
August 7, 1945 to August 28, 2018
ABOUT MIKE
A Renaissance Man
Thank you for your kind words and prayers as we weather the storm of Mike’s passing. Hearing your memorable stories of Mike and personal stories of overcoming loss have given us hope that we will make it through. We want to be intentional about opening up to the outpouring of love, and to accept your kindness and support.
Before Mike passed away, he clearly stated that he did not want a memorial or gathering. It is fair to say that Mike only liked gatherings were he could show up early for the good food, and then leave early for a nap with Flo. Something that Mike loved to do was tell stories mixed with humor and hyperbole; that is what we intend to do here through this memorial letter.
Mike Thomas Quane (August 7, 1945 to August 28, 2018) was born in Richland, WA. He was the second oldest of five children, and the proud son of the Richland fire chief. He told his kids that it was the dropping of the atomic bomb that blew him out of the womb. As a child he was curious about the world and was often found taking things apart to understand how they worked, even if it meant there was no working toaster for the family. He would weave many tales (with questionable elements of exaggeration, of course) of his adventures with his mischievous dog, fishing and duck hunting with the neighborhood kids, and forging lifelong memories with the Richmond Bombers class of ‘63. Having the atomic bomb as your mascot must really give you a superiority complex.
Mike often recalled the day he was drafted into the Army from his college classroom in Washington. When his name was read off the long list, he stood up proudly, picked up his hunting gun from the back of the room, and headed to Vietnam. He told stories of giving gum to the local children in the jungles, befriending a stray dog, and ending up in the hospital eating ice cream flat on his stomach because of the shrapnel embedded in his posterior. After receiving a Purple Heart and returning stateside, Mike finished his bachelor’s degree in Washington, and then earned his Masters in Recreation at San Jose State to start his Park Ranger career. That is where he met his wife of 42 years, Suzanne, who was willing to live the rest of her life off the grid, raise three strong willed children, and learn what’s it is like to love a renaissance man.
There was no question that Mike’s passion was learning and creating. He was a park ranger, a police officer, a high school teacher, a professor, and finally retired where “every day is a Saturday.” Mike did what many people this day in age would not dare do: build a home with his own two hands. Every nail was hammered by him, and occasionally by his begrudging children who would rather be watching TV than mixing cement. He added rooms and remodels as his family expanded. He cleared the land and wrestled with keeping the wild boars and rattlesnakes at bay. He planted hundreds of fruit trees and plants, proudly walking around his property picking an apple, tomato, or hot pepper as he worked. He built a self sufficient energy grid, complete with solar, generator, and hydroelectric systems to keep his homestead running. While others may have looked at him like he was crazy (not to say he wasn’t), he was driven by his curiosity, and only satiated with a DIY solution that often involved duct tape and PVC pipe. He had nature, his family, and the kind of independence that few actually ever achieve.
Mike was clearly obsessed with the weather. His children remember the early morning rides to school where their dad would preach to his captive audience the water cycle as they pass by the reservoir, watching the water evaporating towards the morning sun. A forecast of rain was always followed by how many inches it will be, with Mike capturing his own rain measurements to compare. His weather monitor looked more like a space control station than a thermometer. When Mike learned the magic of iPhones and Twitter, he was able to share his obsession with weather to those outside Quane Hill by Tweeting weather updates (with pictures of Flo) from Mt. Umunhum to Steve Paulson, the morning weatherman on the local news.
Michael Quane @QuaneStorm Aug 24 @SPaulsonKTVU
Mt Umunhum: Cool 55 degrees, light haze, still rattlesnake weather, third day in vet hospital for Flo (Jack Russell) for a rattlesnake bite.
A local Mt. Umunhum historian summed things up with a tweet.
Mt. Umunhum @MtUmunhum Aug 30 @SPaulsonKTVU @QuaneStorm
Umuhum lost one of it’s finest residents. Rest in Peace, Mike Quane. You will be deeply missed. May you go with God and be with Him in his heavenly kingdom where the weather is always “bright and cheery”, as you always were.
While we are not having a memorial service at this time, we do wish to remember Mike through stories. If you would like to, please send in a story you have about Mike, his work, his home, or the influence he had on the community. It may be any length, written, emailed, photographed, or any medium that will help tell the story of Mike Quane. Please send the stories to the address below, or through the CONTACT section at the end of this website. We will post the stories on this website for others to read as well (unless otherwise noted). Below are stories about Mike and the impact he had on his family. We hope his humor, hyperbole, and unconventional ways live on through these tall tales.
Quanes PO Box 3 New Almaden, CA 95042
Remembering Mike 2024
6 Years Since Your Passing
My dearest Mike,
Six years have gone by and time seems to be moving faster each year. I have been told that you are still with us and you know what is happening in our lives. Even so, I am writing this to update you of how our lives have been over the past year.
At the end of May Laurel drove me to ER at San Jose Kaiser. I had Broken Heart Syndrome. It was quite a wake-up call. Since then, I have been taking care of myself. I have been doing cardiac rehab, hiking the road again with Buddy and Zoe (just like we used to), and doing yoga daily. I joined a widow and widower’s group last year and I enjoy the friendships and activities they do. I am doing bocce ball monthly and started a pickleball group that meets weekly. I have been feeling stronger and healthier in my body and mind. I often wonder when I will be joining you, but I know it’s not yet.
Your seven grandkids are doing well. They are each growing and filling their lives with fun activities. We think of you whenever we are at Charlee and Essie’s swim meets. They swim year-round now! Laurel, her family, and I went to the Port Of Oakland for a free ferry tour. It was a tour made with you in mind, as you would have loved seeing those big cranes and the boats loaded with containers. The boat took us under the Bay Bridge and the SF skyline was spectacular.
Michael is coaching both Sophia’s and Chloe’s soccer teams this fall. The twins, Trey and Drew, will be starting preschool in September. Michael’s dog, Bella, died last weekend. Buddy is the only dog left from that time.
Bayla is in first grade now and is just as sweet as ever. Kellee Eve fixed up the Burro for me to use when living on the mountain will not be possible. They are enjoying their time in La Selva, with regular visits from hummingbirds.
The house is still standing. Michael fixed the water pump’s platform so it would not slide down the hillside. The lake is disappearing under the cattails, but I can still water the orchards with its water. I never did thank you for laying all of that pipe and rigging up a wonderful system to irrigate the trees. Spencer, a neighbor, has helped me twice now to unclog my septic system. Roots are getting into the pipes. Yikes!
The exciting news is that I bought an electric refrigerator! During a prolonged heat wave, the three propane refrigerators quit working. Two have recovered now that the weather is cooler. I can’t believe that I have a refrigerator that I do not have to defrost! It never was possible in the past.
I’m sure you were laughing from above watching me try to catch the skunks. Did you hear me screaming when I finally tracked the skunk by the garden and could not get the shotgun to fire? I ended up trapping the skunk the next day. And yes, I finally figured out how to fire the shotgun.
You have not been forgotten and the memories of your death are now less painful. Thank goodness. You brought so much laughter and joy to so many people. I love you dearly.
Love,
Suzanne
2024
REMEMBERING MIKE 2023
5 Years Since Your Passing
My dearest Mike,
Five years have come and gone since you have passed. Life does go on, but how I wish you were still here with us. It is strange to reflect that at 73 years old, I am now the same age as when you died. I am thankful for our family who has continued to grow and bring joy into this world.
It was a hard winter and I was thankful for all the help from our family. Michael took on the huge project of cutting down the massive trees on our long and windy dirt road. I stopped counting the number of trees that he felled after 50. It took many weekends but I finally learned to use a chainsaw. In the end it was a blessing because we didn’t get hurt and we sure learned a lot about felling trees, chainsaws, and safety.
Your seven grandkids are doing well. Kellee, Mike, and Bayla moved from Nashville back to California. Yippee! They will be staying in the La Selva Beach house and adding to our long list of good memories there. Bayla will be starting kindergarten this fall and turning 6. Charlee and Essie are busy with their activities (with me helping to shuttle them around town). The Quanes are growing and hitting milestones: Sophia, Chloe, Trey and Drew. I am a proud GramGram to 7 grandchildren.
Buddy, my Queensland heeler and faithful companion, just turned ten. I see his health declining but he is happy catching the tennis balls and sticking to my side. Michael found a female Queensland heeler for me at the Sacramento pound. Zoe is four years old and seems to be fitting in well.
The water is still flowing after the heavy winter rains. I wish you were here to see the apple harvest. It should be a great yield after having so much rain.
I know that death is a part of life. Each year as more family and friends pass away, I am looking more into the unknown. Your anniversary always brings up questions - “What happens after I die? What does it feel like?” I hope you are there to help me through.
I love you dearly,
Suzanne
REMEMBERING MIKE 2022
4 Years Since Your Passing
Dear Mike,
It has been four long years since you have passed. In this span of time pandemics have hit, loved ones have passed, and babies have been born. Through it all you have not been forgotten. Your wisdom emerges spontaneously when a waterline has burst, or when the sadness swoops in. I even hear your voice when a well-timed laugh is needed. Thank you for living on through those you have loved.
While you may be shocked, I am still on the 44 acres continuing your legacy of mending broken pipes, monitoring water levels, and scaring away rattlesnakes. But you will be happy to know I am not doing it completely alone. Family and friends have been lending me a hand and helping to decode your unconventional building methods.
The drought has taken a toll on the trees around the house. Michael Jr. helped fell over 10 very tall dead trees around the property. You have instilled in the family the sense of “We can do it” even though the job was well beyond our skillset. It ended up being a huge undertaking with unexpected (stressful) learning curves. I know you were with us, helping to make sure the trees fall away from the house (mostly…).
But don’t worry, your fruit trees are still growing strong. With the help of Tracey, we replaced the broken water pump which irrigates your fruit trees. With the help of Jennifer’s husband Mike, I figured out why the pump was leaking gas. Now I need your help again to put this pump back together. One project always leads to another, but I know I have friends and family to help along the way.
On the mountain, water is always top of mind. You were so smart in choosing this land that still has water flowing from the spring. If only the waterline pipes would stop breaking multiple times a year. This year, Tracey used his engineering skills to help fix the line. It involved 3 hours of digging, hours of problem solving, and finally flowing water once again. Along the way I felt you guiding us as I was shown previous repair work you have done. Thank you for all the years of work I did not see or understand. I do now.
The family continues to grow and thrive. Laurel, Jason, Charlee, and Essie are in the Tesla driving to Disneyland for a week. You would have had fun driving the Tesla. We all felt you were cheering with us at Champs for Charlee and Essie's swimming events. Those girls love the water as much as you did.
Michael, Roxanne, Sophia, Chloe, Trey, and Drew are still living in Folsom. Michael is a stay at home dad for his four kids. I think you would be very proud to hear the stories he tells his kids about you.
Kellee Eve, Mike, and Bayla stayed in the La Selva house all summer. It was lovely to have them closer. Kellee Eve backed her 19 foot camper trailer into the driveway in one go. I know she gets that from you.
Buddy is 10 years old now and is sporting a gray muzzle. He is still chasing after tennis balls and leaving them everywhere. The collection of kitties - Tommy, Lucy, Clem, Taco, and Cocoa - are doing their job keeping the mice and snakes away.
The past four years since you have passed have been difficult beyond words. But despite the hard times, I have decided to live to see my grandchildren grow up. As they grow, it is amazing to see pieces of you sprinkled throughout.
We love you dearly, Mike!
Until we meet again,
Suzanne and family
REMEMBERING MIKE 2021
3 Years Since Your Passing
Dear Mike,
It has been three years since you have passed. Time is strange. Sometimes the months fly by so rapidly. Sometimes it feels like you were here with us just yesterday. At other times it feels like our time together was a different life time ago. I am thankful that time has at least lessened the pain of missing you. Nonetheless, August is always a tough month. It is the month of your birth; it is the month of your death. August pulls at my heart and leaves me reflecting on another year without you.
So much of who you were lives on at Quane Ranch. It has been difficult to see the land struggle this year. This has been a very dry year; I cannot remember the water level being so low. I am unable to pump water from the lake to irrigate the orchards. I am now filling five gallon buckets with holes drilled at the bottom to slowly water the fruit trees. I am just hoping that they will stay alive until we get some rain. I am watching the pine trees turning browner over the months. I think of your mantra, “We are rich with water.” You were right that water is the ultimate sign of wealth. While things are low, the water has not completely stopped flowing in the creek. I call that slow trickle a blessing.
Mike, I comforted knowing you and your mischievous Jack Russell, Flo, are back together again. We were all surprised when Flo died suddenly on July 2. I was worried when she did not come in at night. I went looking the next morning and I found her body in the lower orchard. Our best guess is that she was chasing a deer and got trampled. You would be happy to know that Flo is buried in the orchard with a large granite grave stone, as large as her personality. I will admit, it was a difficult few weeks after she passed. While I still have my dog, Buddy, and the three cats, Flo was a living part of you. When she passed, it felt like I lost a little more of you. For now I will be filling the void with new kittens from Michael's cat. Let the madness begin.
Mike, you would be impressed with the many new skills I have learned this year. I know you are with me when I get stuck on a problem. I know you are laughing (or cursing) at each failed attempt, and giving a smile of support when I finally get it. I can now empty a rat trap, and even look at the dead rat. I can now go to a gas station and fill the five gallon propane tanks and gas containers. I can fix a PVC break and understand the different fittings (thanks Mike for leaving me a million!). I can hike to the different creeks and clean out the water boxes. Just as you did, I put up ropes along the way so I do not slide down the hillside. I am better using different tools and put together a Harbor Freight trailer kit this year. It might take me another year to get brave enough to pull it, but I know I will. I feel comfortable wearing the gun to shoot the rattlesnakes. I can now start a gasoline generator with fewer pulls. I have learned that as I do something more often, it is not as frightening anymore. I have learned how much you did for our family and this land.
This was the year I decided to finally use the beach house in La Selva. While we have had the cottage since 1992, we never got to use it as our own as we rented it out. This year it was time. The renters moved out and we finally had our respite from the scorching summer weather. While this is the home where I had planned to live if something happened to you, as it turns out, I prefer to live on Umunhum. But visiting the beach is a nice change. Your handiwork is everywhere, from fruit trees in the front yard to DIY bathroom in the garage. I wish you were here to build more memories. I will always remember when you went fishing at the beach and lost your glasses to a wave. For now, I am filled with joy as our family uses the home as a gathering place.
Laurel and her family are living happily in New Almaden. Mike, you helped them through the remodeling, but never lived to see them move in. You would be shocked to see Laurel outside cultivating a beautiful vegetable and flower garden. Jason has your Bobcat tractor and is slowly landscaping the yard. Charlee and Essie are doing well enjoying the summer swimming. You would be proud of how they all have thrived through the Pandemic.
Michael and his family are happily settled in Folsom. You would be so proud of your son and what he has learned this past year. He comes up regularly and helps me with projects around the house. When he is around I feel your presence as well. He put in some new back steps, reinforced the deck, shored up the house foundation, and cut the reeds in the lake to name a few of the projects. So much to do and we always can feel you guiding and laughing at our attempts. I’m sure you got a good chuckle in watching us trying to get that queen size box spring down from the upstairs. We could not fit it down the stairway and had to break it apart. I wish you were here to tell us how you had gotten it upstairs years ago.
After so many beautiful granddaughters, you finally have two healthy grandsons. Mike’s wife, Roxanne, had fraternal twin boys on May 10, 2021. Michael Thomas Quane III is named after you, and we call him Trey. Andrew Stephen Quane, is named after Roxanne’s father and we call him Drew. They will one day understand the honor and legacy of their names. The boys will have wonderful sisters to look up to. Sophia has grown into a confident four year old now going to preschool. Chole is an active two year old who is talking and running as fast as she can. A beautiful family of six.
Kellee, Mike Mannix, and Bayla are living in Nashville. Bayla just started preschool. Kellee wishes you were around to have some fiery political discussions; there are plenty to be had in this political climate. Thank you Mike for watching over their family as they made a safe cross country trip from TN to CA to see us for a whole month. Kellee said she channeled your skills as she reversed the camper trailer into the small driveway in first try. They hope to move to La Selva in a few years. I know that you would have approved.
Another year has passed without you being here. I hope you are happy, at peace, and learning to your heart's content. I love you dearly, Mike.
Special thanks this year to the following:
Thank you, Brad and Julie for always being a phone call away to help me solve a problem with the generators, solar, road, and life in general.
Thank you, Jennifer and Mike for taking care of Mike's bees and teaching me how to siphon.
Thank you to the Covid 19 vaccine.
REMEMBERING MIKE 2020
The Mulberry Tree
It has been two years since Mike has passed. We know he would have embraced the chaos of 2020 with vigor and curiosity. He was a mountain man who was ready for anything nature threw at him. There would be no better place than an isolated mountain top to ride out a world-wide pandemic.
Usually for the month of August, our entire family gathers to celebrate Mike’s life. Because of COVID-19 we were not able to come together as usual. This year Michael Jr. and Suzanne spent the day honoring Mike with a day of hard labor, chainsaws, and cleaning up the mess from a recent storm. Specifically they spent the day cutting down the fallen limbs of the family’s beloved mulberry tree.
Mike planted the mulberry tree when the kids were young. Since then, it has been a staple in Quane family photos for decades. The pictures below are memories from under the mulberry tree. We remember one year when the mulberry tree split apart and Mike saved the tree by literally screwing it back together. It gave the kids a 3rd base for front yard baseball games. It gave the yard shade during the scorching mountain summer. It gave his son-in-law, Jason, endless leaves to rake in the fall.
In August 2020, the month of Mike's birth and death, a big lightning storm with high winds hit the mountain. The same branch that Mike had fixed years ago split off again, luckily away from the house. A few days later, Suzanne woke to see the entire tree had fallen. On Aug. 28, the two year anniversary of Mike’s passing, Michael Jr. spent 10 hours cutting and clearing out the mulberry. What was once a grand tree stretching up towards the heavens was now a playground for grandkids and pups. With its full canopy taking every inch of the front yard, we were able to see just how much this tree had grown and how grand it had become.
Sometimes only when something has fallen do we truly see how amazing it is. Thank you, dear mulberry tree. Thank you, Mike.
Laurel and Michael in front of the young mulberry tree.
Kellee, Michael Jr., Laurel, and Mike under the mulberry.
The perfect place to park Mike's new toys: under the mulberry!
Front yard photo with the mulberry to the right.
More new toys under the mulberry with Flo.
Trying out new climbing equipment on the mulberry.
Lightening and high winds broke off the largest limb of the mulberry.
The mulberry fell over the pool and away from the house, thank goodness!
The rest of the tree came down, splitting down the middle..
Two year anniversary of Mike passing, Michael Jr. and Suzanne cut the last of the mulberry tree.
Flo had a great day after 10 hours of cutting. She loved to be in the middle of the action.
REMEMBERING MIKE 2019
Mt. Umunhum, Aug. 29, 2019
To remember Mike, we all gathered on the highest mountain in the area, Mt. Umunhum. Our hearts were heavy, the children were crying, and Michael Jr. got a flat tire, but we still gathered together to remember Mike. We laughed, we cried, and we argued in true Quane fashion. We know that Mike was laughing at our attempts of getting 5 grandaughters to sit still. He was probably also cursing at the person who thought of taking family photo. We are grateful that we did.
Greystone Park Picnic
Aug. 29, 2019
The first Christmas after Mike passed, we went up to the top of Mt. Umunhum to honor Mike. We started this tradition last year, the first year the park at the peak of Mt. Umunhum was open, something that greatly pleased and excited Mike to share with others. We almost didn't make it up in time, and Jason had to work some magic to get us past a locked gate. We parked our cars in a handicap drop off zone (with a park ranger mere yards away), ran like crazy people to the lookout, and braved the high winds to get this picture mere moments before the sun dropped behind the mountain.
Michael Jr. and family were not able to attend because Roxanne is due with baby #2 any day now, and who wants to risk a hospital run all the way down that mountain? Sending love to the Quane bloodline.
First Christmas Without Mike 2018
December 25, 2018
DECEMBER 25, 2017
Mt. Umunhum
MAN AND HIS DOG.
Photo found online from Mike's good friend, Brad Bergholdt.
Mike, my dear husband and best friend,
The first time I saw you I was immediately attracted by your kind face. It also may have been your motorcycle and handsome Airedale at your side. You taught us all to treat everyone with respect and kindness, and also how to tell a good story. You brought me along on your life's adventure from 1974 to present day.
Thank you for all of your hard work to make living on Mt. Umunhum possible. It was your passion and joy in life. You always made it easy for me - you killed the rattlesnakes, buried our pets, fixed the landslides on the road, and cut down the 300 foot dead trees. You built our home, the lake, planted the 100 or so fruit trees, maintained our power, water, and got rid of the dead rats. You changed the flat tires and would drive down to get them replaced. You showed your love through your actions and hard work.
I will miss your point of view, your daily weather report and tweets, and your ability to always make me laugh. I will miss your company at Costco, In and Out, garage sales, and Home Depot or Harbor Freight. I will miss your companionship in this thing called life.
I thank you for saying yes when I told you that it was time for us to get married. I can hear your voice as I say, “I love you dearly,” with your reply, “I love you more.”
Suzanne, Mike’s wife of 42 years
To my Big Brother Mike,
My whole life with you was a great fun filled adventure from my childhood through adulthood.
Thank you!
I followed you to Central Washington State College.
Thank you for the guidance!
After Central Iended up in Alaska (Ass-Laska) which I think thrilled you more than me. So while I was getting used to thirteen feet of rain per year you were thinking of me. You sent me a very nice North Face down vest to keep me warm up there. I still have it. My body is a little too big for it now but Brendan wears it. It's amazing.
Thank you!
I still have the folding Buck knife you sent me too. I was always wearing that vest and knife up there on the Ranger belt you suggested. For 10 years in the bush. That Buck knife saw some serious work on many deer, moose, bear, cariboo, salmon, halibut and everything else I needed to cut.
Thank you!
And when you took Suzanne to Sitka to stay a few days I found out more about Sitka during your visit than I knew after living there for 2 years.
Thank you!
I loved staying with you during the winter as it gave me a break from Alaska. A dose of sunshine and warm weather I sorely needed.
Thank you!
I want to thank you for breakfast in Los Gatos as I was heading back to AK one spring day. It was a beautiful morning and I was awestruck by it. I instantly fell in love with California and I vowed to make that place my home which eventually happened.
Thank you!
So after 40 years in California I could no longer afford my San Ramon lifestyle which I loved. I had to retire somewhere cheaper. I called you and told you I was gong to retire and move to the Central Valley. I think I mentioned Modesto. You came unglued saying that the valley was a gangland hotbed. Of course I had to remind you that working in Oakland for 22 years had taught me a thing or two. You then said I should move to Richland and you were pretty convincing. You hit on a few key things that touched me. I made the move and it was the best advice I've ever had.
Thank you again!
My son and I loved ocean fishing with you too. Although I did fear for our lives on more than one occasion. Few boaters did 35 mph on Monterey Bay. But I had learned to trust your boat skills as we spent many a day on the Columbia River with you behind the wheel. Your maniac boating skills proved to me there was at least one angel looking after us.
Thank you!
You were also an inspiration as a water skier. You could stand on the boat dock and time it just right as the ski rope was being peeled off the dock from the boat and off you would go. Sometimes it was a disaster. You would do a major crash and we would watch you being drug through the water gasping for air. As your little brother your crashes were awesome! Including the time when you tried landing on the dock with your butt as you returned. Pretty cool! And done many a time. What was very cool was when you tried that manuever and you ended up crashing under the dock at at a pretty decent rate of speed. Very scary! But Awesome as you popped up and had actually survived.
Thank you!
Not only were you a great slalom water skier but you made your own skis. I was very impressed. I was more impressed watching you ski on one of them as the ski started to de-laminate under your feet. As you managed to stay afloat as this ski was literally exploding under you, I saw you perform a crash and burn on the river that was rarely seen and maybe considered epic. It was very awesome!
Thank you!
I noticed that you and your buddies began to pioneer barefoot skiing soon thereafter. You and your friends took the epic crash and burn to a new level. Many a time i watched as you literally skipped on top of the water a few times before making a disastrous entry. It was amazing to watch and a great time on the water!
Thank you!
You also built mini hydro plane boats, at least one wooden pram, gun racks for us duck hunters, wooded decorative ducks for our parents, and assorted other wooden crafts that were scattered throughout the house. Including a wooden chain. All very impressive! All that stuff made the house a home.
Thank you!
After Viet Nam you informed me with no room for discussion that I was not going to 'nam'. As your buddies returned from Viet Nam they would stop by the house for a few days. They also informed me I was not to go to Viet Nam.
Thank You!
But I wore your field jacket and jungles boots forever.
Thank you!
From your Viet Nam letters to mom, to your buddies returning from Nam, to my recent conversations with your friends and from my time in New Almaden with you I saw how you really liked people and how to this day they really liked you. You touched so many people in such a good way that it may sound cliche but your world was a great place to be a part of.
Thank you!
My children will miss you, Uncle Mike; as will my ex-wife Darcy. Darcy said it was "funny" that when you and Suzanne and Darcy and I all sat down at a table to eat we saw we were all left handed. Freaks of Nature? I don't know but those were good times.
Thank you!
Thanks for the trip to Malta for the family reunion. I would have never went with out you "forcing" me. Brendan and I had a great time. Got to see a lot of the history of mom's side of the family including Uncle Pat up close and personal. That trip gave me a new found appreciation for what our grandparents went through.
Thank you!
I was looking forward to seeing you again for your reunion but apparently God had other plans for you.
Thanks for almost coming!
I would just like to say that lately you have been accused of loving Flo more than all of us put together. I won't say who said that but I'm ok with it. You gave me so much that I'm good with you hanging with Flo. I just want to thank you for letting me be such a big part of your life and to say that I was lucky to have you as a Big Brother.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!!! You will be missed.....
With much love, your little brother
Tim
Tim, Mike’s younger brother
I loved to tease my father. He did not mess up very often, but when he did I never let him forget it. Dad was always walking around his property, taking hikes on the road, working on projects, and chasing after his pup. He finally bought a fitbit and was obsessed with getting his steps, gathering everyone around the device to watch the fireworks at 12,000 steps. Recently he went to the vet to check up on his princess, Flo. He was bragging about his high step count to the vet, proudly stating, “I did fifteen hundred steps today.” When he got home, he realized that he said the wrong thing: he had actually done 15,000 steps. He was embarrassed that he was bragging about basically walking from the fridge to the TV all day. I continued to remind him that 1,500 steps was the signs of a lethargic old person. Recently, my mother went to the vet and let the vet know about dad’s verbal slip up, and cleared up the mistake. I know that he will be able to rest in peace knowing that his honor has been restored.
Laurel, Oldest of Mike’s three children, mother of Charlee (4) Essie (2)
As a kid the highlight of my day was when my dad would come home from work. Although my dad did not care much for sports, he was passionate about anything I was passionate about. And he loved competition. He would play with me no matter how tired he was. We would play hockey in the house for hours destroying the place. My dad had an opinion on exactly what I did wrong every ice hockey games (although he never played, he did not know the rules, and had never even ice skated before). We spent a lot of time together traveling to games and practices.
My dad taught me so much:
How important family is and to protect them.
To listen to my mother.
To always be kind to people and animals. I learned my love for animals, especially dogs from him.
To be accountable. He would always test me and push my buttons but he also was my biggest supporter.
To work hard and always give your full effort no matter what. Quitting is never an option. I can still hear him screaming, “Hustle!”
That you can do anything that you put your mind to. He was an executor. He would come up with ideas and then made them happen.
My dad was a hard working man. Nothing was ever handed to him in his life but he preferred it that way. He appreciated what he had built and worked so hard for. My dad loved nature and worked hard to teach others to love nature too.
He would talk to and teach anyone who would listen. He always wanted to help people and it showed through his work as a park ranger, police officer, and a teacher. All throughout my childhood people would come up to me and tell me how much my dad had impacted them either personally or professionally. He also had a great sense of humor when he talked. Growing up I disliked my dad’s stupid jokes but I catch myself telling the same jokes and making the same voices to my wife and daughter… it’s alarming.
I always enjoyed my conversations with my dad. He would let me talk and express myself, listening to what I had to say before telling me exactly why I was wrong. He could always explain things to me in a way that would calm me down and give me clear direction; that is what I will miss the most about my dad.
Michael, Mike’s middle child of three, and only son
We were sitting around the kitchen table: me, my dad, my fiance (also named Mike), and my mom. I finally mustered up the courage to make my ask, “I want to have our wedding here on the mountain. Can we do that?” My dad’s reaction was stern. He raised his eyebrows, raised his voice, and I could tell his blood pressure was raising too. He responded that it was too dangerous to have people driving up here, we have wild animals and dogs, and our septic system couldn’t handle the crowd. After a look from my mom, he finally took a deep breath, laid out some guidelines, and said yes to having a wedding on the mountain.
To prepare for the wedding, my fiance Mike and I worked on the homestead every weekend for a year. We walked around with my dad as he taught us how to install an outdoor “treehouse” bathroom with its own septic system, lay down a brick patio, clean and organize his tool sheds (per my mom’s request and my dad’s annoyance), and use the Bobcat tractor to plant a gigantic pumpkin patch. My dad was not a conventional guy, and I knew that this was not going to be a conventional wedding.
My favorite part of our wedding was actually the months spent before the main event, learning and creating with my father. I loved asking him questions about the weird treasures I found in his shed. I loved learning how to drive a Bobcat with Flo, who hops onto the bucket and into the driver’s lap. I loved his endless knowledge about plants and the secret to growing green grass during a drought. It was during these long afternoons of working that I finally appreciated my father for his brilliance and willingness to pass along his knowledge to me. My father showed me what could be built with the love of learning, the passion to create, and your own two hands.
Kellee, Youngest of Mike’s three children
For the past year and half, our family of four has been living on the mountain with Mike and Suzanne while our house is being remodeled in the nearby town. I remember one day when Mike came into the kitchen needing bait for the rat traps that he was setting outside. In his faded out fleece pants, baseball cap, and dusty shoes, he entered the kitchen and pulled out the Costco-sized peanut butter we all use for our breakfast. He grabbed a couple dog biscuits from the tin box by the door and dipped the biscuits into the peanut butter. He then walked outside with the peanut buttered-biscuits and began lathering them on the traps to attract the rats. With wide eyes I quickly walked to the pantry and got another jar of peanut butter and wrote on it with sharpie in gigantic letters, “Non-Dog Peanut Butter” then hid it on top of the fridge. While being on the mountain I have learned that Mike does things in his own way.
Jason, Son-in-law married to Laurel
I have always felt fortunate to be married into the Quane family. When I met Michael, it was clear that he had the utmost respect for his dad and it did not take long for me to understand why. He was a wise and loving man who lived his life with conviction and integrity. His life and his experiences were truly interesting and impressive.
Mike loved to razz Michael. He was the only one who could really ruffle Michael’s feathers, and I loved to watch and sometimes join in. I will miss having Mike in my corner when Michael is being stubborn. Such as the time Michael had meningitis and would not go to the ER. Or the times when Michael wouldn’t take my advice, only to agree to it hours later once his dad offered the same advice. I will cherish our memories sitting around the lake, going on walks, going out to dinners (pre-grandkids), and the holidays full of laughs and funny practical gifts.
Mike’s passing is a loss to everyone. What breaks my heart the most is that my children will not be able to experience all that was Mike Quane. Michael and I promise to keep Mike’s memory alive with his grandchildren and share what an amazing man he was. Many of the things that I love about my husband are pieces of his dad, innate characteristics and qualities he emulates of Mike. I am grateful to have known you and thankful for you and your son. May you Rest In Peace Mike. We will miss you.
Roxanne, Daughter-in-law married to Michael Jr.
Mike Quane was an exceptional teacher. Whether he was narrating the recipe for his infamous worm tea (a concoction he used to aid the growth of his tomatos) or rattling off the twisted and complex history of Mt. Umunuhm’s land battles and property fights, Mike, sometimes knowingly and sometimes not, was always in teaching mode. Seasonal weather patterns, local flora and fauna, the territorial reach of area mountain lions, and the inner workings of the Hells Angels hierarchy are just a mere sampling of topics that he would cover in a single visit to the ranch on Quane Hill. Even more impressive - he could teach you things that he himself did not know. This is not a knock, for, as is required of any great teacher, Mike was driven by a sense of perpetual curiosity and experimentation. He was a doer, and in the rare instance that he encountered a situation that stumped him, he did not hesitate to roll up his sleeves and dive headlong into the quandary, taking advantage of the situation and teaching along the way.
When Kellee and I were working with him on the construction of the outdoor restroom for our wedding, we ran into a problem with ensuring that there would be proper drainage. The situation was looking pretty grim, and having the wedding at the ranch hinged on the successful completion of our “loo with a view.” Now, up to this point Mike had been guiding us through post setting, framing, flooring, angle cuts, and pipe placement. He modeled for us how to complete each of these tasks and supervised me and Kellee as we practiced each skill. He would then leave us to complete each step and go about his own business, usually tending to his prized tomatoes and hot peppers. Proper drainage, however, was proving to be a dilemma. Unshaken and undeterred, Mike simply kicked into experimentation mode and had us implement a variety of strategies, each one accompanied by a narrative of why he thought it would work. This approach, also aided by some overnight online research, resulted in the completion of the project by the end of the next day. It was as comprehensive of an education as I have ever received.
Most of my visits to Quane Hill, especially during the preparation for the wedding, resulted in similar lessons under the tutelage of Mike Quane. These lessons ranged from bucket loader operation to pond dredging. During the drought year on the mountain, I accompanied Mike through forest and canyons and learned the basics of spring tapping and gravity assisted water pumping. There was also tree grafting and a pretty thorough unit on brick laying a poolside patio. Mike, like myself, was a classroom teacher. And the most important lesson I learned from him was that best teaching practices should not be limited to the classroom. They need to extend to everyday life. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
Mike, son-in-law to Mike, married to Kellee
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Papa Mike dead.
Essie (age 2), Granddaughter who got her blonde hair and blue eyes from Papa Mike
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He used to hug me right after school, and I love him.
Charlee (age 4), Oldest granddaughter
My little brother Mike was born to become a Park Ranger. As a small child he was always curious about insects and small critters. As he got older he bagan trapping and collecting birds, gophers, white mice and the such. Having a family cat and dog wasn’t enough to sate his curiosity. When he began his Park Ranger career I lived nearby and would often visit. On one occasion he called me and asked if I would pick-up any street ‘roadkill’ along the way. He had rescued an injured vulture. At his first mountain ranch he had a couple of airedales terriers. That’s when I understood just how much he loved dogs. He regularly took them to Mcdonalds. They would wait impatiently in the car for their individually wrapped hamburgers. I once ‘house sat’ while he was away and discovered I had to share the bed with the dogs. They weren't light sleepers. His favorite game was to hide meat in the house and see how long it took them to find it. Mike was so proud when they would beat the previous time. I last saw Mike at the Malta reunion. He brought Tim & Brendan, it was a fun get together. I also met Flo. It was fitting that he would include her.
Pat, Older brother of Mike
I’ll never forget how proud Mike was mentioning to my husband Ed that he named a street after Suzanne. It was called Wong Way. Loved the double entendre. Still makes me smile! Here’s to all the love that abounds from Mike having made his mark in this world!
p.s. Ed and Mike best park rangers of Lake Elizabeth!
Joyce Tanaka, Friend of Mike
Mike Quane and I go back to Sacajawea grade school in Richland. We hunted together a few times in high school. We were in the same division in Vietnam, the 23rd, at different times. He was one of those constant things; you knew he was there when you heard the Quane laugh. He was a fine, funny guy. We'd see each other every few years and just pick up where we'd left off. I miss him already.
Joe Ford, Friend
We love the Quane's! We will miss Mike for all he has accomplished in our New Almaden Community and Quicksilver Park. Mike protected AQ during the mining and when it became a County Park. The grand Fourth of July Parties at the Quanes will always be remembered fondly. Mike, we love you, our prayers and care are with Suzanne, Laurel, Michael. Kellee and the family.
Kitty Monahan, New Almaden neighbor
Upon moving to New Almaden in 1980, we came to hear about a man who lived in the hills. We were told he was a recluse and no one ever saw him. We assumed he was a hermit who lived off the land. His name was Mike Quane. Ten years later - when I decided to start a Boys and Girls Campfire group in town so my young daughter could meet the neighborhood kids- who should appear but Mike's wife Suzanne! She brought her three young children and stayed and helped me for the next three years. Our families became fast friends- even vacationing together. Their youngest daughter Kellee was and still is my daughters best friend. Kellee would spend numerous hours at our house and Brianna loved going up the hill to their home. She was usually greeted by Michael Jr. asking her ‘What are YOU doing here”? She never listened to him and even when he asked his mother “Why did you bring her here?!”- she just laughed and went off to play with the girls. The Quane’s always welcomed the entire community to many parties on their beautiful property. Mike helped out the community whenever needed and was never the recluse he was thought to be. And Michael Jr. turned out to be a wonderful man! All three of their children lead successful lives with their own families. It was my pleasure to know Mike Quane- he will be missed for sure. He always did things his way and succeeded.
Aldene, Neighbor and friend
The Quane family were great friends of the Smyth family. Mike’s Mom Bronnie was one of my Mom Helen’s best friends and we spent many hours in each other’s homes. Later after high school I spent one summer working in the Walla Walla peas with Mike, Pitts, Frank, Whiteside and others. A lot of laughs. RIP Mike.
Tim Smyth, Old friend
I remember Mike from school--a top drawer gentleman. I think of all the girls who missed the privilege to glide across the gym floor with him at the school sock-hops as their dance partner. Oh, sure it would have just been a simple box waltz step --perhaps even a bit shy/clumsy at times-- but being in the makings of a young Renaissance Man they would have felt they were in a sensuous ballgown dancing to the beautiful lines of the Viennese Waltz.
Myrna Bolin, Old friend
In May of 2009, I was twenty-two years old, and I moved from my home on the East Coast to the Bay Area of California in order to join Teach For America. My first and greatest friend from those first few years was and still is Kellee Quane Mannix, Mike's youngest daughter.
Two months; thirty-or-so, soggy Subway sandwiches in little red lunch boxes; countless, back-and-forth rides in overcrowded yellow school buses; and even more sleepless nights in dorm room corridors later, Kellee and I found ourselves tired, hungry, homeless, temporarily unemployed, poor, and on our way back to the Bay Area from teacher boot camp in L.A.
It is here and then that I met Mike Quane Sr.
During this transition, Mike and Suzanne Quane generously opened their home to me for a much-extended weekend as Kellee and I figured out what to do next. Driving from L.A. to the Quane Ranch, Kellee shared about the "rustic" and "homey" nature of her and her family's home and warned me that it would take at least twenty minutes to drive up the "road" that her dad crafted himself on the side of a mountain in order to get to her parents’ secluded house. I was unfazed - “How bad could it be? Kellee’s a city girl. She went to UCLA.” - until we started driving up that mountain.
Turn left. Turn right. Turn hard right.
Shrub. Tree. More shrubs. More trees.
“Oh, look: there goes an animal, and there's the stump to the tree my dad chopped down after it was struck by lightning and caught on fire a few years ago.”
Stop. Switch gears. Turn left. Turn hard left.
“There’s a fresh stump over there - must have been a storm.”
Scary cliff hanging off side of road.
“Man, I guess that side kinda avalanched up there; I'm sure my dad has some dynamite to fix it."
"Dynamite?!" I asked.
"Yeah, that's how he built this road in the first place. How else do you think he got all the way up here?”
“Holy shit,” I thought to myself. “Where am I?”
I was at the Quane Ranch.
To me, Quane Ranch will always be an eclectic home with small steps leading up and down to most communal areas and tiny, crowded hallways leading from one room to the next. There were plants, unique kitchen tools, family heirlooms, and old photographs and kids’ artwork hanging on every wall and from the ceiling in the kitchen. Kellee’s old room had all of her boxed-up possessions from high school and college, and Mrs. Quane told us that she couldn’t wait to have the room empty and all to herself - kidding, I’m sure. I remember the addition in which I stayed with the crisp, white sheets, and walk-in shower with lovely, large, blue and grey stones, and I remember the way the whole room smelled of dew after I showered. I remember the acutely parallel rows of fruit trees planted on the side of the hill out back, the dogs and cats of which I couldn’t for the life of me keep track, and the gorgeous, you-can’t-put-a-price-that view of the valley outside. I remember looking just over the mountain to the nearest city at night and watching Kellee point to where her childhood friends’ families still lived. I remember thinking, “My goodness. This place is beautiful. This place is special.”
What I remember most about this visit, however, was Mr. and Mrs. Quane's and their family's generous hospitality and the way in which they made me feel as a twenty-two year-old transplant in the Golden State of California. Whether it was providing Kellee and me with a place to stay when we had nowhere to go; touring us around our new, intended home; helping us to move into our new apartment; sharing a meal, homegrown produce or dried fruit that nobody ate except Kellee; teaching us a trick to get rid of invading and uber-persistent ants or remnants of moldy, flea-infested carpets; or encouraging us to take a much-needed, and much-appreciated weekend trip away to rainy Santa Cruz, CA, Kellee’s parents and family were always the first people whom we called for help when we were in need, and they were always overly willing to make the drive down the treacherous mountain and up to the Bay in order to make it work. For those first few years - whether Kellee or the Quanes knew it or not - they were the closest I had to family within three-thousand miles, and it made me feel safer, more secure, and more capable and confident knowing that I had both Kellee and the Quanes in my life and that they would have been there for me if I had ever really needed them.
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Quane, for all that you did for me during those first few years that I lived with Kellee in California. I am forever grateful for your generous hospitality and loving spirits and for your presence in my life. Please know that you and your family are in my heart today and always and that, like your home, Your family is beautiful. Your family is special.
Caroline, Friend of Kellee
WORDS FROM MIKE
What did Mike always used to say?
Such a shock for all of us at El Gato Veterinary to hear. My deepest sympathies go out to all that knew and loved Mr. Quane. He was such a sweet man. I used to love hearing all of his stories about living on the mountain. He even got me to start hiking near the property with my dogs and family!
One day, my husband and I were headed up to take a hike with the dogs, and the trail that we wanted to use was closed "because of mountain lion activity".....well I found out later that next Monday from Micheal that the trail was closed because Flo and Buddy had chased the mountain lion in the area! We had a good laugh at that and I told Flo thanks a lot!! He had such a huge knowledge for local history that I loved as well. I hope that he wrote down some of the tales he told us for his grand kids. He will be deeply missed.
Sandra Peart, El Gato Veterinary Hospital and friend of Flo's
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Mike and I were friends in high school (1960-1963) and graduated with the Gold Medal Class of 1963, Columbia High School (Richland Bombers), Richland, WA. A number of years later, I realized that our first Richland house was on the street right behind his house (both numbered 1212). By 1960, we ended up as sophomores at the high school. We did the usual high school stuff, drinking beer (don't remember him drinking at that time), cruising Zip's Drive Inn (similar to Sonic, but better), going to sports events, dances, hunting, boating and fishing off his dad 's dock.
One other memorable incident comes to mind. One time four of us car pooled and we stopped at the local drugstore. There was an incident (which I can only divulge the details to Suzanne). As the result of this incident (which was due to political implications and wasn't true), all four of us were unjustly humiliated by being the top front page headline in the local newspaper. Very memorable.
I finally went to our 40th class reunion in 2003 and reunited with the two other Musketeers... we had a great time like the old times! Mike and Pitts even visited me down here in New Orleans, Vicksburg, MS to tour the battlefield, and staying in a haunted B&B.
Although I hadn't seen Mike since 2003, I will miss him terribly.
Frank Whiteside, High school friend
I first met Mike when I was in high school or I had very recently graduated around late-1975 or early-1976. I was not able to talk to Mike about that back then. Mike was to be avoided. He was the law on the land. My brother and I were sneaking about on the Hill and in the underground mine.
One day, after a particularly tiring exploration, and a very long day, we decided to exit through a new area that ended up being locked. It was getting toward late-afternoon, when Mike typically made a swing around the Hill to look for mischief and trouble on his way home to Englishtown. My brother worked with vigor, frantic really, to lift up a board for us to escape. Just as my brother got the timber out we heard the dreaded rattle of Mike’s pickup roaring up Mine Hill Road.
We ran out of the portal just as we heard the truck stop and the slam of two truck doors. We snuck through the brush, and it took about an hour to make our way out. It was not a fun and easy escape, but we made it. Just as we were crossing the parking lot outside of the lowest gate on Mine Hill Road, at the park entrance, Mike and the rattling mini-pickup sped toward us.
Mike was visibly annoyed and said, “Hey, were you guys just in the Mine!?”
We looked surprised, “What, us, no sir, we were hiking on Mine Hill Road.”
Mike said, “Well, if you weren’t, why are you so dirty?” It was true, we were an undeniable mess of underground mine muck and filth. “Yeah, well, if you were not in the mine, just tell whoever was that I got their rope.” He motioned to the bed of the pickup and there was our coil of rope that we had forgot at the gate in our haste to escape. Mike said, “Just stay of the Hill. Sooner or later you’ll get caught and that will be big trouble for you!” Mike turned around and drove back to his Mine Hill home.
Mike, who was with Suzanne by this time, had moved up to a parcel of land he purchased on the east-facing slope of Mt. Umhumnum. I moved into a trailer on Mine Hill with my late wife. The year was 1984. I now had the privilege of meeting Mike on friendly terms. We talked about the rope incident. He was still not too happy with me, and said of course he knew it was me all along. After that, Mike helped us with lots of advice and tips for living in a remote place with few amenities. Interestingly, the water supply to Englishtown was fed by a spring some 3.5 miles west, on the very property purchased by Mike and Suzanne.
Mike and Suzanne’s spring fed a wooden water tank that connected to hydrants and spigots located in Englishtown. On days that we’d mysteriously run out of water, I would phone up Mike. He’d invariably say, “Oh, sorry, I cleaned the spring box and forgot to open the valve.” In a few minutes we’d have our water back and send kind thoughts to Mike and Suzanne.
Attached is a photo of phone numbers written in the old office room at the Mine Hill Rotary furnace. The picture was taken in 1984. Mike’s phone number is written large. I used this phone number often.
Mike Cox, Foe then Friend of Mike
Mike obviously, was a great friend. I first knew him when he was the ranger on Skyline for County Parks. I also was around when he lived in the "Quane house" at Quicksilver. He and I went to the Cal Department of forestry and fire nursery in Felton and got the trees that you see now surrounding the property. Filled the back of my pickup. I think they were gallon sized trees.
He applied for my teaching job at West valley and I was hoping that he might get it. Alas that did not happen even though he was teaching for me part-time. Obviously I did not have a say or he would have been there for sure. Some of my former and Mike's former students will tell you that they learned a lot form Mike. Mostly on how to humanly treat people. I have an Richland High School Bombers Tee shirt that I got from my grandson who went there as well. I proudly wore it to the 4th of July get togethers. I'll miss him dearly.
Tom Smith, Friend
Anytime I wanted a refreshing new look at life, I would just drop in at the Quane's house. It is it's own world! Mike was always proud of his solutions to the challenges of living off the grid. The list of Mike Quane-isms are endless.
Open air rest room
Sand box over the generator to stop fires
The spoon-driven hydroelectric power plant
Kiwi shaded patio and archway to the pond
The "Laural berm" created along the road to protect the new driver in the family
shingled bathroom
an endless stream of different inverter, batteries, solar panels, wind turbines, and wires
Mike had a wonderful way of integrating nature and lo-tech to provide comfort to his family. Simplicity and function always ruled!
I was greeted with hospitality from every family member. Everyone was and is open about their accomplishments, interests and trepidation's in life. Mike promoted this atmosphere within his family and supported each family member in a way unique to their personality. And you would never leave the property without taking home kiwi, lemons, or some sort of fruit from the gardens all over the property. The bounty of the land.
I admired Mike as a pioneer, his selfless devotion to family, and dedicated husband and father. His outlook on life was unique and individual. A true one of a kind man.
Roger Papesh, New Almaden Neighbor
I still hear Mike's vibrant voice as he tromped up my kitchen stairs, always wearing his pink fishing hat, saying, "I brought some heirloom tomatoes for you. The dark, reddish, purple, ones have the best flavor." Then he quickly turned toward the door and stated: "I left Flo in the car but I will be back tomorrow with squash and kiwis." Mike had a generous spirit about sharing his harvest with his neighbors and friends. I still hear Mike's voice about telling me how to manage our vines so they would produce better grapes, how it was normal for our oak tree to drop all its acorns at once within three days and how to trap raccoons that were tearing up our lawn. I still hear Mike's voice saying with pride "I made hard cider from the apples in my orchard. Try a glass of my apple juice." I remember how proudly he shared his cider generously with many neighbors and friends in the community. G. Bush at John McCain’s memorial, "Some voices are so vibrant, it is hard to think of them as stilled." Mike's words, wisdom, and advice will never be stilled.
Dorene Boulland, Friend and New Almaden Neighbor
Mike had an infectious, possibly devilish smile. When he told me that he had seen something that looked like a fossil walrus or seal skull in the rocks above Hicks Road and before the turn off to Umunhum, I was intrigued. He wasn’t sure if he could find it again, there was a lot of dense brush and poison oak, but he wanted me to go with him to find it. I had just met him, and raised my eyebrows in surprise. Suzanne jumped right in and said, “It's okay, I’m not the jealous type. I never went, and I’m sorry. Whenever I drive Hicks road, I check the hillside to imagine which steep gully he may have gone up. I miss you Mike.
Mike also saved my knees one day. I had hiked up to Jacques Ridge from town, and decided that it would be less steep if I walked down Hicks road; boy is that a steep road! Mike was driving home, but he said he drove me down to town. Thanks Mike.
The scrub oaks trimmed high enough to walk under gave shade to the fourth of July picnic. The tiny lake on the edge of the cliff, how did you do that? Small boats that could be rowed around a tiny central island to the delight of kids and adults. The arched arbor of kiwis and grapes, and the bag of fruit left hanging on one’s gate when there were too many. I was scared of the road, but every trip was worth it.
Then there was the outhouse with a view across the canyon. Everything Mike did was beautiful and magical.
Robbie, New Almaden Neighbor
Remember on my 5th birthday you taught me to count all the way to 18. Thanks for the 18 cents you gave me for a birthday present.
Remember the day you taught me how to drive Dad's boat, and how to bail water.
How about the time you let me take St. Thomas the Myna Bird to 3rd grade show and tell. You know that was when the Nuns learned a new vocabulary.
And remember the time you called home to intercept a letter Sue had sent to Mom. (The letter was about an arrest you made of some bad guys in your park.) I remembered not to tell Mom anything.
I don't know about you Mike, but I sure remember.
Kevin, Mikes's younger brother
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I am sad over the passing of Mike. Mike was one person who you paid attention to when in his company. You would always learn something from him. Mike was so full of life, energy and ideas. I never thought that he would leave us so soon.
The last time we spoke was at the luncheon. Mike spoke of the Solar panel system he had built and the rattlesnake that could have got him when he crawl under to do some repairs. Mike loved that Mountain. He spoke of Mt. Umunhum and explained that it was open to visitors. Mike assured me that the drive would be worth it and to stay away from a weekend drive, he suggested a Wednesday drive to avoid the crowd. We will take that drive as Mike suggested. We will miss Mike.
Bob and Diana Gomez,
Morgan Hill Police Department
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Your loss is shared by a great many people who called Mike their friend and admired him. I consider myself very fortunate to be included in that group. Mike taught me so much over the years. During one of the recent MHPD luncheons (March 2018), I sat next to
Mike and we had a wonderful visit! He told me about growing scorpion
peppers and kiwi and a variety of things. In recent years Mike and I had
not crossed paths too much so I feel very lucky to have had that opportunity
to visit with him.
Alec Gagne,
Morgan Hill Police Department
I met Mike through Suzanne. Suzanne and I worked at Kaiser as Advice Nurses. We actually met at the interviewing and testing process to be hired at Kaiser. I will never forget how friendly Suzanne was and we instantly became friends. During the 5 years I worked with Suzanne I was LUCKY enough to be invited to their ranch off the grid. When she would talk about living off the grid I really didn’t understand what that meant. I certainly understood all off the grid entails when I met Mike for the first time at the Quane ranch. I instantly liked Mike. I felt like we’d known each other for years. My first visit he gave me a tour of the property and met all their pets and got to relax and look at their beautiful views of the valley. Over the years I came up to visit and even got to target shoot with Mike and sharpen many of their knives as well as some of Mikes tools. It was an honor to know such a sweet and interesting man. I am so happy he was able to live out his days in a place that he loved so much..and to share this with his family and friends. I will miss Mike dearly.
Kathy Hyman,
Friend of Suzanne
Too soon Mike! Too many jokes to hear, things to learn from you fish to catch, trees to graft, and projects to work on together! Renaissance Man would be my best description. Mike was an off the grid kind of guy, created a slice of heaven for his family on Mount Umunhum. He taught me to graft fruit trees, could cobble together almost anything to work again, had stories and knowledge of about anything that could occur outdoors. Sometimes you wondered if he might be BS-ing just a bit... The first time I met Mike he had something very helpful to do for us, and it never stopped coming. Always willing to lend a hand, pick someone up, bring them home grown crops, do some heavy lifting, have your back. People come into our lives for various reasons. This gentleman brought so much, enriched us all. I used to fake him like I was going to give him a hug, to watch him squirm a bit. Wishing I could follow through on that one last time.
Brad Bergholdt,
Friend
It has taken me a long time to write this as there have been many memories to sift through. I remember you and the "river rats" at the Columbia; and the surfboard you made in high school shop that Dad hated and refused to lock up hoping it would be stolen. Us kids (and Foxy) loved floating the river on it.
I remember you teaching me to drive a stick then letting me use your VW while you were in Mexico. And thank you for not yelling aa me when you came home to that mashed up fender.
When I was little you called me "RCT" and "Little Itch". (I think I hated you a little for that.) And when I was in high school, you offered to beat up the guy who broke my heart. (I really loved you a lot for that.)
Thank you for giving us PJ (Punk Jr.), which began our lifelong love of Airedales. And for introducing me to Strawberry the pig on our visit when our Pat was just a baby.
I remember Dad taking me to your high school football games. And the day I came home from school and you told me that Dad had died. So many memories but not enough. I am so sorry I have lost touch in the past years. It was so easy to say maybe next month, maybe next year. There were so many more memories I have lost out on. God bless you. I love you.
Cindi, Mike's little sister
Your family played such an important role in my childhood. So many of my fondest memories were when we got together at your place. I still dream of someday having my own hidden paradise.
I do think my dad and Mike were such good friends because they were so alike. My boyfriend and his son joined Irelyn and I when we visited my parents this summer. My boyfriend, Bill, was trying to get my dad to ask about how he met my mom. My dad kept redirecting the conversation to talk about Mike. All he seemed to want to do was tell stories about his adventures with Mike. It was pretty comical. Every time Bill would try to steer the conversation back to my mom and dad, my dad would start off on another story about Mike. I know it was hard for him to hear that Mike is gone. I believe they are kindred spirits. Very much alike. I do think of you all often. Irelyn still talks about our last visit to your place. Se had so much fun. Know that I am thinking of you, Laurel, Michael, Kellee and families and love you all very much.
Kara and Irelyn, Family Friends
I met Mike when we were five years old. We were both in the same classes and activities at Christ the King Catholic Church in Richland. My maiden name is O'Neil, so I often sat next to Mike when we sat in alphabetical order which was common at that time. We grew to be good friends for life. Mike lived with my first husband and I when he moved to California. We named our son, Michael Thomas Stine after your Mike.
Mike had a fabulous sense of humor and such a warm, fun personality that everyone respected and love him. I was so happy to watch Mike's love and happiness grow when he met Suzanne! You were the perfect love and life-time partner for him, Suzanne!
I just read the comments and stories on your website to honor Mike. Tears rolled down my face as I read the beautiful tribute!
Kathy Childs, Lifelong friend
I will always remember Mike as a man who protected me when I needed it most. Even though he would never interfere in anyone's personal business, he was wise enough to know when I was in danger and to let me know. God bless him. I may be here today because of him.
I will also remember him as the little gardener! Every plant got a chance to grow. Every stray seedling got a pat and was lovingly tended. What a kind, gentle man and gentleman and loving father and husband. I will always remember him. He is gone too soon.
Terri Williams, New Almaden Neighbor
We remember Mike and his life so very well-lived...I was thinking of Mike the day before he passed and how pleased he was to help us graft our 100 plus year old apple tree in the back.
The Murphy Family, New Almaden Neighbors
In June 1978, my first trip to California, that I met Mike. He and Suzanne picked us up at my sister-in-law’s Cupertino home and took us to the Golden Gate Bridge and then to their home. I remember their home - it was where miner’s used to live - where the shower could fit at least 10 people. It definitely left a lasting impression on me, and my realization that this “Mike guy” must be someone so special to Suzanne.
I remember once, knowing a little about her Sacramento life with her Dad and Rodney and that she wasn’t really the “outdoors kind of person.” Asking Suzanne, “Is this the kind of place you always wanted to live at?” Her quick reply was “I LOVE MIKE and this is where Mike wants to live.”
As I got to know Mike, I couldn’t help but love him too because he took such good care of my cousin. He never raised his voice, protected her and always stayed calm and reassuring. I remember once, when we went in two cars to Sacramento. Suzanne got lost and called Mike at the hotel. Mike reassured Suzanne that she could find the hotel since she grew up in the Sacramento area (where the hotel was located). Sure enough, Suzanne arrived at the hotel shortly afterwards. Other times, Mike used to tell us that when Suzanne was late coming home from work, he would go down to look for her, just to be sure she was okay.
Mike was a friendly guy. Once, when my husband and I were using his car, Mike reminded us to wave at people when we drove through the town because they probably were thinking it was him.
My husband Vernon remembers Mike telling us that once, when he was on the way to pick us up, he stopped to buy gas and a man came up to him begging for money. The man was desperate and Mike believed him so he gave him some money. The guy offered to pay him back - Mike said it was not necessary- but the man insisted so Mike said, “Send it to Captain Mike Quane through the police station.” That’s the kind of guy Mike was- very compassionate.
It was always a learning experience when we were with Mike. He could tell you how to treat a diseased tree, catch a skunk and get rid of the odor, to always wear boots when unlocking the gate at the bottom of the mountain at night (we are from Hawaii and had no idea about snakes), or how his house was the only one with lights when there was a big blackout in the area. I was also amazed what he did to his mountain. The cool room (which we were fortunate to stay in) the pond and the victory gardens are to name a few. And I am even more impressed when he could tell me which chili pepper would be the best to use in my cooking. His lessons were usually accompanied with a “Mike” story. We would sit for hours after a meal at the dining table just listening to all of Mike’s stories. Thank you Mike for everything you taught us!
Frances, Suzanne’s cousin
I first met Mike and Suzanne Quane when they lived on Mine Hill while I was a seasonal Park Ranger. I considered him a mentor while I was with county parks. He always knew just how to handle any situation and could resolve any contact with totally positive results. There was no end to his knowledge and interests in regards to any topic. He always made me smile when I worked with him. I was very blessed to know him. Thank you Mike and may you rest in peace.
Lee Sencenbaugh, State Park Superintendent II (ret.)
Below are excerpts from an essay Mike's mother wrote to him on his 35th birthday, 1980.
Hi Mike and Suzanne,
Under this page is 35 years of memories compiled in the story form. It is a true story- not even the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
When Michael became three years old, he developed an abundance of curiosity and exuberance. He was very independent. He and his little friend who he called Eddie Ted. The two little three-year-old were inseparable that year. Michael is always exploring, always curious to how things are made. He will take things apart. His mother accused him of being destructive, but he wasn’t. He just had to tear it apart to see the inside.
Whenever you would see the dog Jeep, an Australian Shepherd, black-and-white, you know Mike was not far behind. He and the dog were together all the time. That was before the leash law in the locked doors. So when I wanted to check on Mike, I would call the dog and watch the direction it came from. One day we had a call from the postmaster. Someone had reported seen the little boys putting dust in the corner neighborhood maildrop. They were sure that it was Mike and Eddie Ted. Since they couldn’t prove it, no chargers we put forward, but the neighborhood lost the convenient maildrop. It was moved.
Bronie Quane, Mike's mother
I owe Mike and Suzanne a huge debt of gratitude for the kindness and love they showed my mom (Agnes Yuseff.). Starting in the early 70's, Mom kept telling me about Mike and Suzanne and then one, two, three kids. And all along, the stories were imbued with how good they were to her! Although my husband and I tried to be there for my parents and help keep their house together, we could not always manage and often we would hear that Mike had stopped by and solved a problem at their house. It was such a comfort and relief to know that Mike and Suzanne were there when we could not be!
The Quanes became my Mom's family-of-the-heart. Laurel, Michael and Kellee were the grandchildren Mom would not otherwise have had, and just as I think of Suzanne as my Mom's other (and usually better) daughter, I always think of Mike as the son she never had. Clearly, he treated her with the care and respect that a good son would have given.
Mom passed away in 2013 and I inherited her house, which was rented out. I told the Quanes that if it was ever something they would want they should let me know; five years later, I cried tears of joy when they said they were interested in the house for Laurel. Mom would have been SO happy!
I walked Mike through the property and pointed out every flaw and problem I could remember for full disclosure, because things had really deteriorated. (He probably already knew more of them than I did since, in addition to helping Mom, he had often helped the renter fix them.) A price was agreed upon and Mike and Suzanne set to work helping Laurel and Jason start the "remodeling" process (a much longer saga than anyone guessed.) Mike and Laurel worked together getting permits and plans and finally starting construction. It makes me so sad to think that Mike won't be there when they finally move in, but he will be there in every corner of the property, as he is in every corner of New Almaden.
Carole Beebe, Family Friend
CONTACT
While we are not having a memorial service at this time, we do wish to remember Mike through stories. If you would like to, please send in a story you have about Mike, his work, his home, or the influence he had on the community. You can send them through this website CONTACT form, to Quanebrain@aol.com, or PO Box 3 New Almaden, CA 95042. We will be posting the stories on this website for others to read (unless you note otherwise).
PO Box 3 New Almaden, CA 95042
Remembering Mike 2024
6 Years Since Your Passing
My dearest Mike-
Six years have gone by and time seems to be moving faster each year. I have been told that you are still with us and you know what is happening in our lives. Even so, I am writing this to update you of how our lives have been over the past year.
At the end of May Laurel drove me to ER at San Jose Kaiser. I had Broken Heart Syndrome. It was quite a wake-up call. Since then, I have been taking care of myself. I have been doing cardiac rehab, hiking the road again with Buddy and Zoe (just like we used to), and doing yoga daily. I joined a widow and widower’s group last year and I enjoy the friendships and activities they do. I am doing bocce ball monthly and started a pickleball group that meets weekly. I have been feeling stronger and healthier in my body and mind. I often wonder when I will be joining you, but I know it’s not yet.
Your seven grandkids are doing well. They are each growing and filling their lives with fun activities.
We think of you whenever we are at Charlee and Essie’s swim meets. They swim year-round now! Laurel, her family, and I went to the Port Of Oakland for a free ferry tour. It was a tour made with you in mind, as you would have loved seeing those big cranes and the boats loaded with containers. The boat took us under the Bay Bridge and the SF skyline was spectacular.
Michael is coaching both Sophia’s and Chloe’s soccer teams this fall. The twins, Trey and Drew, will be starting preschool in September. Michael’s dog, Bella, died last weekend. Buddy is the only dog left from that time.
Bayla is in first grade now and is just as sweet as ever. Kellee Eve fixed up the Burro for me to use when living on the mountain will not be possible. They are enjoying their time in La Selva, with regular visits from hummingbirds.
The house is still standing. Michael fixed the water pump’s platform so it would not slide down the hillside. The lake is disappearing under the cattails, but I can still water the orchards with its water. I never did thank you for laying all of that pipe and rigging up a wonderful system to irrigate the trees. Spencer, a neighbor, has helped me twice now to unclog my septic system. Roots are getting into the pipes. Yikes!
The exciting news is that I bought an electric refrigerator! During a prolonged heat wave, the three propane refrigerators quit working. Two have recovered now that the weather is cooler. I can’t believe that I have a refrigerator that I do not have to defrost! It was never possible when you were alive. I remember our first propane refrigerator could not even make ice!
I’m sure you were laughing from above watching me try to catch the skunks. Did you hear me screaming when I finally tracked the skunk by the garden and could not get the shotgun to fire? I ended up trapping the skunk the next day. And yes, I finally figured out how to fire the shotgun.
You have not been forgotten and the memories of your death are now less painful. Thank goodness.
You brought so much laughter and joy to so many people. I love you dearly.
Love,
Suzanne
REMEMBERING MIKE 2023
5 Years Since Your Passing
My dearest Mike,
Five years have come and gone since you have passed. Life does go on, but how I wish you were still here with us. It is strange to reflect that at 73 years old, I am now the same age as when you died. I am thankful for our family who has continued to grow and bring joy into this world.
It was a hard winter and I was thankful for all the help from our family. Michael took on the huge project of cutting down the massive trees on our long and windy dirt road. I stopped counting the number of trees that he felled after 50. It took many weekends but I finally learned to use a chainsaw. In the end it was a blessing because we didn’t get hurt and we sure learned a lot about felling trees, chainsaws, and safety.
Your seven grandkids are doing well. Kellee, Mike, and Bayla moved from Nashville back to California. Yippee! They will be staying in the La Selva Beach house and adding to our long list of good memories there. Bayla will be starting kindergarten this fall and turning 6. Charlee and Essie are busy with their activities (with me helping to shuttle them around town). The Quanes are growing and hitting milestones: Sophia, Chloe, Trey and Drew. I am a proud GramGram to 7 grandchildren.
Buddy, my Queensland heeler and faithful companion, just turned ten. I see his health declining but he is happy catching the tennis balls and sticking to my side. Michael found a female Queensland heeler for me at the Sacramento pound. Zoe is four years old and seems to be fitting in well.
The water is still flowing after the heavy winter rains. I wish you were here to see the apple harvest. It should be a great yield after having so much rain.
I know that death is a part of life. Each year as more family and friends pass away, I am looking more into the unknown. Your anniversary always brings up questions - “What happens after I die? What does it feel like?” I hope you are there to help me through.
I love you dearly,
Suzanne
REMEMBERING MIKE 2022
4 Years Since Your Passing
Dear Mike,
It has been four long years since you have passed. In this span of time pandemics have hit, loved ones have passed, and babies have been born. Through it all you have not been forgotten. Your wisdom emerges spontaneously when a waterline has burst, or when the sadness swoops in. I even hear your voice when a well-timed laugh is needed. Thank you for living on through those you have loved.
While you may be shocked, I am still on the 44 acres continuing your legacy of mending broken pipes, monitoring water levels, and scaring away rattlesnakes. But you will be happy to know I am not doing it completely alone. Family and friends have been lending me a hand and helping to decode your unconventional building methods.
The drought has taken a toll on the trees around the house. Michael Jr. helped fell over 10 very tall dead trees around the property. You have instilled in the family the sense of “We can do it” even though the job was well beyond our skillset. It ended up being a huge undertaking with unexpected (stressful) learning curves. I know you were with us, helping to make sure the trees fall away from the house (mostly…).
But don’t worry, your fruit trees are still growing strong. With the help of Tracey, we replaced the broken water pump which irrigates your fruit trees. With the help of Jennifer’s husband Mike, I figured out why the pump was leaking gas. Now I need your help again to put this pump back together. One project always leads to another, but I know I have friends and family to help along the way.
On the mountain, water is always top of mind. You were so smart in choosing this land that still has water flowing from the spring. If only the waterline pipes would stop breaking multiple times a year. This year, Tracey used his engineering skills to help fix the line. It involved 3 hours of digging, hours of problem solving, and finally flowing water once again. Along the way I felt you guiding us as I was shown previous repair work you have done. Thank you for all the years of work I did not see or understand. I do now.
The family continues to grow and thrive. Laurel, Jason, Charlee, and Essie are in the Tesla driving to Disneyland for a week. You would have had fun driving the Tesla. We all felt you were cheering with us at Champs for Charlee and Essie's swimming events. Those girls love the water as much as you did.
Michael, Roxanne, Sophia, Chloe, Trey, and Drew are still living in Folsom. Michael is a stay at home dad for his four kids. I think you would be very proud to hear the stories he tells his kids about you.
Kellee Eve, Mike, and Bayla stayed in the La Selva house all summer. It was lovely to have them closer. Kellee Eve backed her 19 foot camper trailer into the driveway in one go. I know she gets that from you.
Buddy is 10 years old now and is sporting a gray muzzle. He is still chasing after tennis balls and leaving them everywhere. The collection of kitties - Tommy, Lucy, Clem, Taco, and Cocoa - are doing their job keeping the mice and snakes away.
The past four years since you have passed have been difficult beyond words. But despite the hard times, I have decided to live to see my grandchildren grow up. As they grow, it is amazing to see pieces of you sprinkled throughout.
We love you dearly, Mike!
Until we meet again,
Suzanne and family
REMEMBERING MIKE 2021
3 Years Since Your Passing
Dear Mike,
It has been three years since you have passed. Time is strange. Sometimes the months fly by so rapidly. Sometimes it feels like you were here with us just yesterday. At other times it feels like our time together was a different life time ago. I am thankful that time has at least lessened the pain of missing you. Nonetheless, August is always a tough month. It is the month of your birth; it is the month of your death. August pulls at my heart and leaves me reflecting on another year without you.
So much of who you were lives on at Quane Ranch. It has been difficult to see the land struggle this year. This has been a very dry year; I cannot remember the water level being so low. I am unable to pump water from the lake to irrigate the orchards. I am now filling five gallon buckets with holes drilled at the bottom to slowly water the fruit trees. I am just hoping that they will stay alive until we get some rain. I am watching the pine trees turning browner over the months. I think of your mantra, “We are rich with water.” You were right that water is the ultimate sign of wealth. While things are low, the water has not completely stopped flowing in the creek. I call that slow trickle a blessing.
Mike, I comforted knowing you and your mischievous Jack Russell, Flo, are back together again. We were all surprised when Flo died suddenly on July 2. I was worried when she did not come in at night. I went looking the next morning and I found her body in the lower orchard. Our best guess is that she was chasing a deer and got trampled. You would be happy to know that Flo is buried in the orchard with a large granite grave stone, as large as her personality. I will admit, it was a difficult few weeks after she passed. While I still have my dog, Buddy, and the three cats, Flo was a living part of you. When she passed, it felt like I lost a little more of you. For now I will be filling the void with new kittens from Michael's cat. Let the madness begin.
Mike, you would be impressed with the many new skills I have learned this year. I know you are with me when I get stuck on a problem. I know you are laughing (or cursing) at each failed attempt, and giving a smile of support when I finally get it. I can now empty a rat trap, and even look at the dead rat. I can now go to a gas station and fill the five gallon propane tanks and gas containers. I can fix a PVC break and understand the different fittings (thanks Mike for leaving me a million!). I can hike to the different creeks and clean out the water boxes. Just as you did, I put up ropes along the way so I do not slide down the hillside. I am better using different tools and put together a Harbor Freight trailer kit this year. It might take me another year to get brave enough to pull it, but I know I will. I feel comfortable wearing the gun to shoot the rattlesnakes. I can now start a gasoline generator with fewer pulls. I have learned that as I do something more often, it is not as frightening anymore. I have learned how much you did for our family and this land.
This was the year I decided to finally use the beach house in La Selva. While we have had the cottage since 1992, we never got to use it as our own as we rented it out. This year it was time. The renters moved out and we finally had our respite from the scorching summer weather. While this is the home where I had planned to live if something happened to you, as it turns out, I prefer to live on Umunhum. But visiting the beach is a nice change. Your handiwork is everywhere, from fruit trees in the front yard to DIY bathroom in the garage. I wish you were here to build more memories. I will always remember when you went fishing at the beach and lost your glasses to a wave. For now, I am filled with joy as our family uses the home as a gathering place.
Laurel and her family are living happily in New Almaden. Mike, you helped them through the remodeling, but never lived to see them move in. You would be shocked to see Laurel outside cultivating a beautiful vegetable and flower garden. Jason has your Bobcat tractor and is slowly landscaping the yard. Charlee and Essie are doing well enjoying the summer swimming. You would be proud of how they all have thrived through the Pandemic.
Michael and his family are happily settled in Folsom. You would be so proud of your son and what he has learned this past year. He comes up regularly and helps me with projects around the house. When he is around I feel your presence as well. He put in some new back steps, reinforced the deck, shored up the house foundation, and cut the reeds in the lake to name a few of the projects. So much to do and we always can feel you guiding and laughing at our attempts. I’m sure you got a good chuckle in watching us trying to get that queen size box spring down from the upstairs. We could not fit it down the stairway and had to break it apart. I wish you were here to tell us how you had gotten it upstairs years ago.
After so many beautiful granddaughters, you finally have two healthy grandsons. Mike’s wife, Roxanne, had fraternal twin boys on May 10, 2021. Michael Thomas Quane III is named after you, and we call him Trey. Andrew Stephen Quane, is named after Roxanne’s father and we call him Drew. They will one day understand the honor and legacy of their names. The boys will have wonderful sisters to look up to. Sophia has grown into a confident four year old now going to preschool. Chole is an active two year old who is talking and running as fast as she can. A beautiful family of six.
Kellee, Mike Mannix, and Bayla are living in Nashville. Bayla just started preschool. Kellee wishes you were around to have some fiery political discussions; there are plenty to be had in this political climate. Thank you Mike for watching over their family as they made a safe cross country trip from TN to CA to see us for a whole month. Kellee said she channeled your skills as she reversed the camper trailer into the small driveway in first try. They hope to move to La Selva in a few years. I know that you would have approved.
Another year has passed without you being here. I hope you are happy, at peace, and learning to your heart's content. I love you dearly, Mike.
Special thanks this year to the following:
Thank you, Brad and Julie for always being a phone call away to help me solve a problem with the generators, solar, road, and life in general.
Thank you, Jennifer and Mike for taking care of Mike's bees and teaching me how to siphon.
Thank you to the Covid 19 vaccine.
REMEMBERING MIKE 2020
The Mulberry Tree
It has been two years since Mike has passed. We know he would have embraced the chaos of 2020 with vigor and curiosity. He was a mountain man who was ready for anything nature threw at him. There would be no better place than an isolated mountain top to ride out a world-wide pandemic.
Usually for the month of August, our entire family gathers to celebrate Mike’s life. Because of COVID-19 we were not able to come together as usual. This year Michael Jr. and Suzanne spent the day honoring Mike with a day of hard labor, chainsaws, and cleaning up the mess from a recent storm. Specifically they spent the day cutting down the fallen limbs of the family’s beloved mulberry tree.
Mike planted the mulberry tree when the kids were young. Since then, it has been a staple in Quane family photos for decades. The pictures below are memories from under the mulberry tree. We remember one year when the mulberry tree split apart and Mike saved the tree by literally screwing it back together. It gave the kids a 3rd base for front yard baseball games. It gave the yard shade during the scorching mountain summer. It gave his son-in-law, Jason, endless leaves to rake in the fall.
In August 2020, the month of Mike's birth and death, a big lightning storm with high winds hit the mountain. The same branch that Mike had fixed years ago split off again, luckily away from the house. A few days later, Suzanne woke to see the entire tree had fallen. On Aug. 28, the two year anniversary of Mike’s passing, Michael Jr. spent 10 hours cutting and clearing out the mulberry. What was once a grand tree stretching up towards the heavens was now a playground for grandkids and pups. With its full canopy taking every inch of the front yard, we were able to see just how much this tree had grown and how grand it had become.
Sometimes only when something has fallen do we truly see how amazing it is. Thank you, dear mulberry tree. Thank you, Mike.
Laurel and Michael in front of the young mulberry tree.
Kellee, Michael Jr., Laurel, and Mike under the mulberry.
The perfect place to park Mike's new toys: under the mulberry!
Front yard photo with the mulberry to the right.
More new toys under the mulberry with Flo.
Trying out new climbing equipment on the mulberry.
Lightening and high winds broke off the largest limb of the mulberry.
The mulberry fell over the pool and away from the house, thank goodness!
The rest of the tree came down, splitting down the middle..
Two year anniversary of Mike passing, Michael Jr. and Suzanne cut the last of the mulberry tree.
Flo had a great day after 10 hours of cutting. She loved to be in the middle of the action.
REMEMBERING MIKE 2019
Mt. Umunhum, Aug. 29, 2019
To remember Mike, we all gathered on the highest mountain in the area, Mt. Umunhum. Our hearts were heavy, the children were crying, and Michael Jr. got a flat tire, but we still gathered together to remember Mike. We laughed, we cried, and we argued in true Quane fashion. We know that Mike was laughing at our attempts of getting 5 grandaughters to sit still. He was probably also cursing at the person who thought of taking family photo. We are grateful that we did.
Greystone Park Picnic
Aug. 29, 2019
The first Christmas after Mike passed, we went up to the top of Mt. Umunhum to honor Mike. We started this tradition last year, the first year the park at the peak of Mt. Umunhum was open, something that greatly pleased and excited Mike to share with others. We almost didn't make it up in time, and Jason had to work some magic to get us past a locked gate. We parked our cars in a handicap drop off zone (with a park ranger mere yards away), ran like crazy people to the lookout, and braved the high winds to get this picture mere moments before the sun dropped behind the mountain.
Michael Jr. and family were not able to attend because Roxanne is due with baby #2 any day now, and who wants to risk a hospital run all the way down that mountain? Sending love to the Quane bloodline.
First Christmas Without Mike 2018
December 25, 2018
DECEMBER 25, 2017
Mt. Umunhum
MAN AND HIS DOG.
Photo found online from Mike's good friend, Brad Bergholdt.
Mike, my dear husband and best friend,
The first time I saw you I was immediately attracted by your kind face. It also may have been your motorcycle and handsome Airedale at your side. You taught us all to treat everyone with respect and kindness, and also how to tell a good story. You brought me along on your life's adventure from 1974 to present day.
Thank you for all of your hard work to make living on Mt. Umunhum possible. It was your passion and joy in life. You always made it easy for me - you killed the rattlesnakes, buried our pets, fixed the landslides on the road, and cut down the 300 foot dead trees. You built our home, the lake, planted the 100 or so fruit trees, maintained our power, water, and got rid of the dead rats. You changed the flat tires and would drive down to get them replaced. You showed your love through your actions and hard work.
I will miss your point of view, your daily weather report and tweets, and your ability to always make me laugh. I will miss your company at Costco, In and Out, garage sales, and Home Depot or Harbor Freight. I will miss your companionship in this thing called life.
I thank you for saying yes when I told you that it was time for us to get married. I can hear your voice as I say, “I love you dearly,” with your reply, “I love you more.”
Suzanne, Mike’s wife of 42 years
To my Big Brother Mike,
My whole life with you was a great fun filled adventure from my childhood through adulthood.
Thank you!
I followed you to Central Washington State College.
Thank you for the guidance!
After Central Iended up in Alaska (Ass-Laska) which I think thrilled you more than me. So while I was getting used to thirteen feet of rain per year you were thinking of me. You sent me a very nice North Face down vest to keep me warm up there. I still have it. My body is a little too big for it now but Brendan wears it. It's amazing.
Thank you!
I still have the folding Buck knife you sent me too. I was always wearing that vest and knife up there on the Ranger belt you suggested. For 10 years in the bush. That Buck knife saw some serious work on many deer, moose, bear, cariboo, salmon, halibut and everything else I needed to cut.
Thank you!
And when you took Suzanne to Sitka to stay a few days I found out more about Sitka during your visit than I knew after living there for 2 years.
Thank you!
I loved staying with you during the winter as it gave me a break from Alaska. A dose of sunshine and warm weather I sorely needed.
Thank you!
I want to thank you for breakfast in Los Gatos as I was heading back to AK one spring day. It was a beautiful morning and I was awestruck by it. I instantly fell in love with California and I vowed to make that place my home which eventually happened.
Thank you!
So after 40 years in California I could no longer afford my San Ramon lifestyle which I loved. I had to retire somewhere cheaper. I called you and told you I was gong to retire and move to the Central Valley. I think I mentioned Modesto. You came unglued saying that the valley was a gangland hotbed. Of course I had to remind you that working in Oakland for 22 years had taught me a thing or two. You then said I should move to Richland and you were pretty convincing. You hit on a few key things that touched me. I made the move and it was the best advice I've ever had.
Thank you again!
My son and I loved ocean fishing with you too. Although I did fear for our lives on more than one occasion. Few boaters did 35 mph on Monterey Bay. But I had learned to trust your boat skills as we spent many a day on the Columbia River with you behind the wheel. Your maniac boating skills proved to me there was at least one angel looking after us.
Thank you!
You were also an inspiration as a water skier. You could stand on the boat dock and time it just right as the ski rope was being peeled off the dock from the boat and off you would go. Sometimes it was a disaster. You would do a major crash and we would watch you being drug through the water gasping for air. As your little brother your crashes were awesome! Including the time when you tried landing on the dock with your butt as you returned. Pretty cool! And done many a time. What was very cool was when you tried that manuever and you ended up crashing under the dock at at a pretty decent rate of speed. Very scary! But Awesome as you popped up and had actually survived.
Thank you!
Not only were you a great slalom water skier but you made your own skis. I was very impressed. I was more impressed watching you ski on one of them as the ski started to de-laminate under your feet. As you managed to stay afloat as this ski was literally exploding under you, I saw you perform a crash and burn on the river that was rarely seen and maybe considered epic. It was very awesome!
Thank you!
I noticed that you and your buddies began to pioneer barefoot skiing soon thereafter. You and your friends took the epic crash and burn to a new level. Many a time i watched as you literally skipped on top of the water a few times before making a disastrous entry. It was amazing to watch and a great time on the water!
Thank you!
You also built mini hydro plane boats, at least one wooden pram, gun racks for us duck hunters, wooded decorative ducks for our parents, and assorted other wooden crafts that were scattered throughout the house. Including a wooden chain. All very impressive! All that stuff made the house a home.
Thank you!
After Viet Nam you informed me with no room for discussion that I was not going to 'nam'. As your buddies returned from Viet Nam they would stop by the house for a few days. They also informed me I was not to go to Viet Nam.
Thank You!
But I wore your field jacket and jungles boots forever.
Thank you!
From your Viet Nam letters to mom, to your buddies returning from Nam, to my recent conversations with your friends and from my time in New Almaden with you I saw how you really liked people and how to this day they really liked you. You touched so many people in such a good way that it may sound cliche but your world was a great place to be a part of.
Thank you!
My children will miss you, Uncle Mike; as will my ex-wife Darcy. Darcy said it was "funny" that when you and Suzanne and Darcy and I all sat down at a table to eat we saw we were all left handed. Freaks of Nature? I don't know but those were good times.
Thank you!
Thanks for the trip to Malta for the family reunion. I would have never went with out you "forcing" me. Brendan and I had a great time. Got to see a lot of the history of mom's side of the family including Uncle Pat up close and personal. That trip gave me a new found appreciation for what our grandparents went through.
Thank you!
I was looking forward to seeing you again for your reunion but apparently God had other plans for you.
Thanks for almost coming!
I would just like to say that lately you have been accused of loving Flo more than all of us put together. I won't say who said that but I'm ok with it. You gave me so much that I'm good with you hanging with Flo. I just want to thank you for letting me be such a big part of your life and to say that I was lucky to have you as a Big Brother.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!!! You will be missed.....
With much love, your little brother
Tim
Tim, Mike’s younger brother
I loved to tease my father. He did not mess up very often, but when he did I never let him forget it. Dad was always walking around his property, taking hikes on the road, working on projects, and chasing after his pup. He finally bought a fitbit and was obsessed with getting his steps, gathering everyone around the device to watch the fireworks at 12,000 steps. Recently he went to the vet to check up on his princess, Flo. He was bragging about his high step count to the vet, proudly stating, “I did fifteen hundred steps today.” When he got home, he realized that he said the wrong thing: he had actually done 15,000 steps. He was embarrassed that he was bragging about basically walking from the fridge to the TV all day. I continued to remind him that 1,500 steps was the signs of a lethargic old person. Recently, my mother went to the vet and let the vet know about dad’s verbal slip up, and cleared up the mistake. I know that he will be able to rest in peace knowing that his honor has been restored.
Laurel, Oldest of Mike’s three children, mother of Charlee (4) Essie (2)
As a kid the highlight of my day was when my dad would come home from work. Although my dad did not care much for sports, he was passionate about anything I was passionate about. And he loved competition. He would play with me no matter how tired he was. We would play hockey in the house for hours destroying the place. My dad had an opinion on exactly what I did wrong every ice hockey games (although he never played, he did not know the rules, and had never even ice skated before). We spent a lot of time together traveling to games and practices.
My dad taught me so much:
How important family is and to protect them.
To listen to my mother.
To always be kind to people and animals. I learned my love for animals, especially dogs from him.
To be accountable. He would always test me and push my buttons but he also was my biggest supporter.
To work hard and always give your full effort no matter what. Quitting is never an option. I can still hear him screaming, “Hustle!”
That you can do anything that you put your mind to. He was an executor. He would come up with ideas and then made them happen.
My dad was a hard working man. Nothing was ever handed to him in his life but he preferred it that way. He appreciated what he had built and worked so hard for. My dad loved nature and worked hard to teach others to love nature too.
He would talk to and teach anyone who would listen. He always wanted to help people and it showed through his work as a park ranger, police officer, and a teacher. All throughout my childhood people would come up to me and tell me how much my dad had impacted them either personally or professionally. He also had a great sense of humor when he talked. Growing up I disliked my dad’s stupid jokes but I catch myself telling the same jokes and making the same voices to my wife and daughter… it’s alarming.
I always enjoyed my conversations with my dad. He would let me talk and express myself, listening to what I had to say before telling me exactly why I was wrong. He could always explain things to me in a way that would calm me down and give me clear direction; that is what I will miss the most about my dad.
Michael, Mike’s middle child of three, and only son
We were sitting around the kitchen table: me, my dad, my fiance (also named Mike), and my mom. I finally mustered up the courage to make my ask, “I want to have our wedding here on the mountain. Can we do that?” My dad’s reaction was stern. He raised his eyebrows, raised his voice, and I could tell his blood pressure was raising too. He responded that it was too dangerous to have people driving up here, we have wild animals and dogs, and our septic system couldn’t handle the crowd. After a look from my mom, he finally took a deep breath, laid out some guidelines, and said yes to having a wedding on the mountain.
To prepare for the wedding, my fiance Mike and I worked on the homestead every weekend for a year. We walked around with my dad as he taught us how to install an outdoor “treehouse” bathroom with its own septic system, lay down a brick patio, clean and organize his tool sheds (per my mom’s request and my dad’s annoyance), and use the Bobcat tractor to plant a gigantic pumpkin patch. My dad was not a conventional guy, and I knew that this was not going to be a conventional wedding.
My favorite part of our wedding was actually the months spent before the main event, learning and creating with my father. I loved asking him questions about the weird treasures I found in his shed. I loved learning how to drive a Bobcat with Flo, who hops onto the bucket and into the driver’s lap. I loved his endless knowledge about plants and the secret to growing green grass during a drought. It was during these long afternoons of working that I finally appreciated my father for his brilliance and willingness to pass along his knowledge to me. My father showed me what could be built with the love of learning, the passion to create, and your own two hands.
Kellee, Youngest of Mike’s three children
For the past year and half, our family of four has been living on the mountain with Mike and Suzanne while our house is being remodeled in the nearby town. I remember one day when Mike came into the kitchen needing bait for the rat traps that he was setting outside. In his faded out fleece pants, baseball cap, and dusty shoes, he entered the kitchen and pulled out the Costco-sized peanut butter we all use for our breakfast. He grabbed a couple dog biscuits from the tin box by the door and dipped the biscuits into the peanut butter. He then walked outside with the peanut buttered-biscuits and began lathering them on the traps to attract the rats. With wide eyes I quickly walked to the pantry and got another jar of peanut butter and wrote on it with sharpie in gigantic letters, “Non-Dog Peanut Butter” then hid it on top of the fridge. While being on the mountain I have learned that Mike does things in his own way.
Jason, Son-in-law married to Laurel
I have always felt fortunate to be married into the Quane family. When I met Michael, it was clear that he had the utmost respect for his dad and it did not take long for me to understand why. He was a wise and loving man who lived his life with conviction and integrity. His life and his experiences were truly interesting and impressive.
Mike loved to razz Michael. He was the only one who could really ruffle Michael’s feathers, and I loved to watch and sometimes join in. I will miss having Mike in my corner when Michael is being stubborn. Such as the time Michael had meningitis and would not go to the ER. Or the times when Michael wouldn’t take my advice, only to agree to it hours later once his dad offered the same advice. I will cherish our memories sitting around the lake, going on walks, going out to dinners (pre-grandkids), and the holidays full of laughs and funny practical gifts.
Mike’s passing is a loss to everyone. What breaks my heart the most is that my children will not be able to experience all that was Mike Quane. Michael and I promise to keep Mike’s memory alive with his grandchildren and share what an amazing man he was. Many of the things that I love about my husband are pieces of his dad, innate characteristics and qualities he emulates of Mike. I am grateful to have known you and thankful for you and your son. May you Rest In Peace Mike. We will miss you.
Roxanne, Daughter-in-law married to Michael Jr.
Mike Quane was an exceptional teacher. Whether he was narrating the recipe for his infamous worm tea (a concoction he used to aid the growth of his tomatos) or rattling off the twisted and complex history of Mt. Umunuhm’s land battles and property fights, Mike, sometimes knowingly and sometimes not, was always in teaching mode. Seasonal weather patterns, local flora and fauna, the territorial reach of area mountain lions, and the inner workings of the Hells Angels hierarchy are just a mere sampling of topics that he would cover in a single visit to the ranch on Quane Hill. Even more impressive - he could teach you things that he himself did not know. This is not a knock, for, as is required of any great teacher, Mike was driven by a sense of perpetual curiosity and experimentation. He was a doer, and in the rare instance that he encountered a situation that stumped him, he did not hesitate to roll up his sleeves and dive headlong into the quandary, taking advantage of the situation and teaching along the way.
When Kellee and I were working with him on the construction of the outdoor restroom for our wedding, we ran into a problem with ensuring that there would be proper drainage. The situation was looking pretty grim, and having the wedding at the ranch hinged on the successful completion of our “loo with a view.” Now, up to this point Mike had been guiding us through post setting, framing, flooring, angle cuts, and pipe placement. He modeled for us how to complete each of these tasks and supervised me and Kellee as we practiced each skill. He would then leave us to complete each step and go about his own business, usually tending to his prized tomatoes and hot peppers. Proper drainage, however, was proving to be a dilemma. Unshaken and undeterred, Mike simply kicked into experimentation mode and had us implement a variety of strategies, each one accompanied by a narrative of why he thought it would work. This approach, also aided by some overnight online research, resulted in the completion of the project by the end of the next day. It was as comprehensive of an education as I have ever received.
Most of my visits to Quane Hill, especially during the preparation for the wedding, resulted in similar lessons under the tutelage of Mike Quane. These lessons ranged from bucket loader operation to pond dredging. During the drought year on the mountain, I accompanied Mike through forest and canyons and learned the basics of spring tapping and gravity assisted water pumping. There was also tree grafting and a pretty thorough unit on brick laying a poolside patio. Mike, like myself, was a classroom teacher. And the most important lesson I learned from him was that best teaching practices should not be limited to the classroom. They need to extend to everyday life. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
Mike, son-in-law to Mike, married to Kellee
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Papa Mike dead.
Essie (age 2), Granddaughter who got her blonde hair and blue eyes from Papa Mike
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He used to hug me right after school, and I love him.
Charlee (age 4), Oldest granddaughter
My little brother Mike was born to become a Park Ranger. As a small child he was always curious about insects and small critters. As he got older he bagan trapping and collecting birds, gophers, white mice and the such. Having a family cat and dog wasn’t enough to sate his curiosity. When he began his Park Ranger career I lived nearby and would often visit. On one occasion he called me and asked if I would pick-up any street ‘roadkill’ along the way. He had rescued an injured vulture. At his first mountain ranch he had a couple of airedales terriers. That’s when I understood just how much he loved dogs. He regularly took them to Mcdonalds. They would wait impatiently in the car for their individually wrapped hamburgers. I once ‘house sat’ while he was away and discovered I had to share the bed with the dogs. They weren't light sleepers. His favorite game was to hide meat in the house and see how long it took them to find it. Mike was so proud when they would beat the previous time. I last saw Mike at the Malta reunion. He brought Tim & Brendan, it was a fun get together. I also met Flo. It was fitting that he would include her.
Pat, Older brother of Mike
I’ll never forget how proud Mike was mentioning to my husband Ed that he named a street after Suzanne. It was called Wong Way. Loved the double entendre. Still makes me smile! Here’s to all the love that abounds from Mike having made his mark in this world!
p.s. Ed and Mike best park rangers of Lake Elizabeth!
Joyce Tanaka, Friend of Mike
Mike Quane and I go back to Sacajawea grade school in Richland. We hunted together a few times in high school. We were in the same division in Vietnam, the 23rd, at different times. He was one of those constant things; you knew he was there when you heard the Quane laugh. He was a fine, funny guy. We'd see each other every few years and just pick up where we'd left off. I miss him already.
Joe Ford, Friend
We love the Quane's! We will miss Mike for all he has accomplished in our New Almaden Community and Quicksilver Park. Mike protected AQ during the mining and when it became a County Park. The grand Fourth of July Parties at the Quanes will always be remembered fondly. Mike, we love you, our prayers and care are with Suzanne, Laurel, Michael. Kellee and the family.
Kitty Monahan, New Almaden neighbor
Upon moving to New Almaden in 1980, we came to hear about a man who lived in the hills. We were told he was a recluse and no one ever saw him. We assumed he was a hermit who lived off the land. His name was Mike Quane. Ten years later - when I decided to start a Boys and Girls Campfire group in town so my young daughter could meet the neighborhood kids- who should appear but Mike's wife Suzanne! She brought her three young children and stayed and helped me for the next three years. Our families became fast friends- even vacationing together. Their youngest daughter Kellee was and still is my daughters best friend. Kellee would spend numerous hours at our house and Brianna loved going up the hill to their home. She was usually greeted by Michael Jr. asking her ‘What are YOU doing here”? She never listened to him and even when he asked his mother “Why did you bring her here?!”- she just laughed and went off to play with the girls. The Quane’s always welcomed the entire community to many parties on their beautiful property. Mike helped out the community whenever needed and was never the recluse he was thought to be. And Michael Jr. turned out to be a wonderful man! All three of their children lead successful lives with their own families. It was my pleasure to know Mike Quane- he will be missed for sure. He always did things his way and succeeded.
Aldene, Neighbor and friend
The Quane family were great friends of the Smyth family. Mike’s Mom Bronnie was one of my Mom Helen’s best friends and we spent many hours in each other’s homes. Later after high school I spent one summer working in the Walla Walla peas with Mike, Pitts, Frank, Whiteside and others. A lot of laughs. RIP Mike.
Tim Smyth, Old friend
I remember Mike from school--a top drawer gentleman. I think of all the girls who missed the privilege to glide across the gym floor with him at the school sock-hops as their dance partner. Oh, sure it would have just been a simple box waltz step --perhaps even a bit shy/clumsy at times-- but being in the makings of a young Renaissance Man they would have felt they were in a sensuous ballgown dancing to the beautiful lines of the Viennese Waltz.
Myrna Bolin, Old friend
In May of 2009, I was twenty-two years old, and I moved from my home on the East Coast to the Bay Area of California in order to join Teach For America. My first and greatest friend from those first few years was and still is Kellee Quane Mannix, Mike's youngest daughter.
Two months; thirty-or-so, soggy Subway sandwiches in little red lunch boxes; countless, back-and-forth rides in overcrowded yellow school buses; and even more sleepless nights in dorm room corridors later, Kellee and I found ourselves tired, hungry, homeless, temporarily unemployed, poor, and on our way back to the Bay Area from teacher boot camp in L.A.
It is here and then that I met Mike Quane Sr.
During this transition, Mike and Suzanne Quane generously opened their home to me for a much-extended weekend as Kellee and I figured out what to do next. Driving from L.A. to the Quane Ranch, Kellee shared about the "rustic" and "homey" nature of her and her family's home and warned me that it would take at least twenty minutes to drive up the "road" that her dad crafted himself on the side of a mountain in order to get to her parents’ secluded house. I was unfazed - “How bad could it be? Kellee’s a city girl. She went to UCLA.” - until we started driving up that mountain.
Turn left. Turn right. Turn hard right.
Shrub. Tree. More shrubs. More trees.
“Oh, look: there goes an animal, and there's the stump to the tree my dad chopped down after it was struck by lightning and caught on fire a few years ago.”
Stop. Switch gears. Turn left. Turn hard left.
“There’s a fresh stump over there - must have been a storm.”
Scary cliff hanging off side of road.
“Man, I guess that side kinda avalanched up there; I'm sure my dad has some dynamite to fix it."
"Dynamite?!" I asked.
"Yeah, that's how he built this road in the first place. How else do you think he got all the way up here?”
“Holy shit,” I thought to myself. “Where am I?”
I was at the Quane Ranch.
To me, Quane Ranch will always be an eclectic home with small steps leading up and down to most communal areas and tiny, crowded hallways leading from one room to the next. There were plants, unique kitchen tools, family heirlooms, and old photographs and kids’ artwork hanging on every wall and from the ceiling in the kitchen. Kellee’s old room had all of her boxed-up possessions from high school and college, and Mrs. Quane told us that she couldn’t wait to have the room empty and all to herself - kidding, I’m sure. I remember the addition in which I stayed with the crisp, white sheets, and walk-in shower with lovely, large, blue and grey stones, and I remember the way the whole room smelled of dew after I showered. I remember the acutely parallel rows of fruit trees planted on the side of the hill out back, the dogs and cats of which I couldn’t for the life of me keep track, and the gorgeous, you-can’t-put-a-price-that view of the valley outside. I remember looking just over the mountain to the nearest city at night and watching Kellee point to where her childhood friends’ families still lived. I remember thinking, “My goodness. This place is beautiful. This place is special.”
What I remember most about this visit, however, was Mr. and Mrs. Quane's and their family's generous hospitality and the way in which they made me feel as a twenty-two year-old transplant in the Golden State of California. Whether it was providing Kellee and me with a place to stay when we had nowhere to go; touring us around our new, intended home; helping us to move into our new apartment; sharing a meal, homegrown produce or dried fruit that nobody ate except Kellee; teaching us a trick to get rid of invading and uber-persistent ants or remnants of moldy, flea-infested carpets; or encouraging us to take a much-needed, and much-appreciated weekend trip away to rainy Santa Cruz, CA, Kellee’s parents and family were always the first people whom we called for help when we were in need, and they were always overly willing to make the drive down the treacherous mountain and up to the Bay in order to make it work. For those first few years - whether Kellee or the Quanes knew it or not - they were the closest I had to family within three-thousand miles, and it made me feel safer, more secure, and more capable and confident knowing that I had both Kellee and the Quanes in my life and that they would have been there for me if I had ever really needed them.
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Quane, for all that you did for me during those first few years that I lived with Kellee in California. I am forever grateful for your generous hospitality and loving spirits and for your presence in my life. Please know that you and your family are in my heart today and always and that, like your home, Your family is beautiful. Your family is special.
Caroline, Friend of Kellee
WORDS FROM MIKE
What did Mike always used to say?
Such a shock for all of us at El Gato Veterinary to hear. My deepest sympathies go out to all that knew and loved Mr. Quane. He was such a sweet man. I used to love hearing all of his stories about living on the mountain. He even got me to start hiking near the property with my dogs and family!
One day, my husband and I were headed up to take a hike with the dogs, and the trail that we wanted to use was closed "because of mountain lion activity".....well I found out later that next Monday from Micheal that the trail was closed because Flo and Buddy had chased the mountain lion in the area! We had a good laugh at that and I told Flo thanks a lot!! He had such a huge knowledge for local history that I loved as well. I hope that he wrote down some of the tales he told us for his grand kids. He will be deeply missed.
Sandra Peart, El Gato Veterinary Hospital and friend of Flo's
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Mike and I were friends in high school (1960-1963) and graduated with the Gold Medal Class of 1963, Columbia High School (Richland Bombers), Richland, WA. A number of years later, I realized that our first Richland house was on the street right behind his house (both numbered 1212). By 1960, we ended up as sophomores at the high school. We did the usual high school stuff, drinking beer (don't remember him drinking at that time), cruising Zip's Drive Inn (similar to Sonic, but better), going to sports events, dances, hunting, boating and fishing off his dad 's dock.
One other memorable incident comes to mind. One time four of us car pooled and we stopped at the local drugstore. There was an incident (which I can only divulge the details to Suzanne). As the result of this incident (which was due to political implications and wasn't true), all four of us were unjustly humiliated by being the top front page headline in the local newspaper. Very memorable.
I finally went to our 40th class reunion in 2003 and reunited with the two other Musketeers... we had a great time like the old times! Mike and Pitts even visited me down here in New Orleans, Vicksburg, MS to tour the battlefield, and staying in a haunted B&B.
Although I hadn't seen Mike since 2003, I will miss him terribly.
Frank Whiteside, High school friend
I first met Mike when I was in high school or I had very recently graduated around late-1975 or early-1976. I was not able to talk to Mike about that back then. Mike was to be avoided. He was the law on the land. My brother and I were sneaking about on the Hill and in the underground mine.
One day, after a particularly tiring exploration, and a very long day, we decided to exit through a new area that ended up being locked. It was getting toward late-afternoon, when Mike typically made a swing around the Hill to look for mischief and trouble on his way home to Englishtown. My brother worked with vigor, frantic really, to lift up a board for us to escape. Just as my brother got the timber out we heard the dreaded rattle of Mike’s pickup roaring up Mine Hill Road.
We ran out of the portal just as we heard the truck stop and the slam of two truck doors. We snuck through the brush, and it took about an hour to make our way out. It was not a fun and easy escape, but we made it. Just as we were crossing the parking lot outside of the lowest gate on Mine Hill Road, at the park entrance, Mike and the rattling mini-pickup sped toward us.
Mike was visibly annoyed and said, “Hey, were you guys just in the Mine!?”
We looked surprised, “What, us, no sir, we were hiking on Mine Hill Road.”
Mike said, “Well, if you weren’t, why are you so dirty?” It was true, we were an undeniable mess of underground mine muck and filth. “Yeah, well, if you were not in the mine, just tell whoever was that I got their rope.” He motioned to the bed of the pickup and there was our coil of rope that we had forgot at the gate in our haste to escape. Mike said, “Just stay of the Hill. Sooner or later you’ll get caught and that will be big trouble for you!” Mike turned around and drove back to his Mine Hill home.
Mike, who was with Suzanne by this time, had moved up to a parcel of land he purchased on the east-facing slope of Mt. Umhumnum. I moved into a trailer on Mine Hill with my late wife. The year was 1984. I now had the privilege of meeting Mike on friendly terms. We talked about the rope incident. He was still not too happy with me, and said of course he knew it was me all along. After that, Mike helped us with lots of advice and tips for living in a remote place with few amenities. Interestingly, the water supply to Englishtown was fed by a spring some 3.5 miles west, on the very property purchased by Mike and Suzanne.
Mike and Suzanne’s spring fed a wooden water tank that connected to hydrants and spigots located in Englishtown. On days that we’d mysteriously run out of water, I would phone up Mike. He’d invariably say, “Oh, sorry, I cleaned the spring box and forgot to open the valve.” In a few minutes we’d have our water back and send kind thoughts to Mike and Suzanne.
Attached is a photo of phone numbers written in the old office room at the Mine Hill Rotary furnace. The picture was taken in 1984. Mike’s phone number is written large. I used this phone number often.
Mike Cox, Foe then Friend of Mike
Mike obviously, was a great friend. I first knew him when he was the ranger on Skyline for County Parks. I also was around when he lived in the "Quane house" at Quicksilver. He and I went to the Cal Department of forestry and fire nursery in Felton and got the trees that you see now surrounding the property. Filled the back of my pickup. I think they were gallon sized trees.
He applied for my teaching job at West valley and I was hoping that he might get it. Alas that did not happen even though he was teaching for me part-time. Obviously I did not have a say or he would have been there for sure. Some of my former and Mike's former students will tell you that they learned a lot form Mike. Mostly on how to humanly treat people. I have an Richland High School Bombers Tee shirt that I got from my grandson who went there as well. I proudly wore it to the 4th of July get togethers. I'll miss him dearly.
Tom Smith, Friend
Anytime I wanted a refreshing new look at life, I would just drop in at the Quane's house. It is it's own world! Mike was always proud of his solutions to the challenges of living off the grid. The list of Mike Quane-isms are endless.
Open air rest room
Sand box over the generator to stop fires
The spoon-driven hydroelectric power plant
Kiwi shaded patio and archway to the pond
The "Laural berm" created along the road to protect the new driver in the family
shingled bathroom
an endless stream of different inverter, batteries, solar panels, wind turbines, and wires
Mike had a wonderful way of integrating nature and lo-tech to provide comfort to his family. Simplicity and function always ruled!
I was greeted with hospitality from every family member. Everyone was and is open about their accomplishments, interests and trepidation's in life. Mike promoted this atmosphere within his family and supported each family member in a way unique to their personality. And you would never leave the property without taking home kiwi, lemons, or some sort of fruit from the gardens all over the property. The bounty of the land.
I admired Mike as a pioneer, his selfless devotion to family, and dedicated husband and father. His outlook on life was unique and individual. A true one of a kind man.
Roger Papesh, New Almaden Neighbor
I still hear Mike's vibrant voice as he tromped up my kitchen stairs, always wearing his pink fishing hat, saying, "I brought some heirloom tomatoes for you. The dark, reddish, purple, ones have the best flavor." Then he quickly turned toward the door and stated: "I left Flo in the car but I will be back tomorrow with squash and kiwis." Mike had a generous spirit about sharing his harvest with his neighbors and friends. I still hear Mike's voice about telling me how to manage our vines so they would produce better grapes, how it was normal for our oak tree to drop all its acorns at once within three days and how to trap raccoons that were tearing up our lawn. I still hear Mike's voice saying with pride "I made hard cider from the apples in my orchard. Try a glass of my apple juice." I remember how proudly he shared his cider generously with many neighbors and friends in the community. G. Bush at John McCain’s memorial, "Some voices are so vibrant, it is hard to think of them as stilled." Mike's words, wisdom, and advice will never be stilled.
Dorene Boulland, Friend and New Almaden Neighbor
Mike had an infectious, possibly devilish smile. When he told me that he had seen something that looked like a fossil walrus or seal skull in the rocks above Hicks Road and before the turn off to Umunhum, I was intrigued. He wasn’t sure if he could find it again, there was a lot of dense brush and poison oak, but he wanted me to go with him to find it. I had just met him, and raised my eyebrows in surprise. Suzanne jumped right in and said, “It's okay, I’m not the jealous type. I never went, and I’m sorry. Whenever I drive Hicks road, I check the hillside to imagine which steep gully he may have gone up. I miss you Mike.
Mike also saved my knees one day. I had hiked up to Jacques Ridge from town, and decided that it would be less steep if I walked down Hicks road; boy is that a steep road! Mike was driving home, but he said he drove me down to town. Thanks Mike.
The scrub oaks trimmed high enough to walk under gave shade to the fourth of July picnic. The tiny lake on the edge of the cliff, how did you do that? Small boats that could be rowed around a tiny central island to the delight of kids and adults. The arched arbor of kiwis and grapes, and the bag of fruit left hanging on one’s gate when there were too many. I was scared of the road, but every trip was worth it.
Then there was the outhouse with a view across the canyon. Everything Mike did was beautiful and magical.
Robbie, New Almaden Neighbor
Remember on my 5th birthday you taught me to count all the way to 18. Thanks for the 18 cents you gave me for a birthday present.
Remember the day you taught me how to drive Dad's boat, and how to bail water.
How about the time you let me take St. Thomas the Myna Bird to 3rd grade show and tell. You know that was when the Nuns learned a new vocabulary.
And remember the time you called home to intercept a letter Sue had sent to Mom. (The letter was about an arrest you made of some bad guys in your park.) I remembered not to tell Mom anything.
I don't know about you Mike, but I sure remember.
Kevin, Mikes's younger brother
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I am sad over the passing of Mike. Mike was one person who you paid attention to when in his company. You would always learn something from him. Mike was so full of life, energy and ideas. I never thought that he would leave us so soon.
The last time we spoke was at the luncheon. Mike spoke of the Solar panel system he had built and the rattlesnake that could have got him when he crawl under to do some repairs. Mike loved that Mountain. He spoke of Mt. Umunhum and explained that it was open to visitors. Mike assured me that the drive would be worth it and to stay away from a weekend drive, he suggested a Wednesday drive to avoid the crowd. We will take that drive as Mike suggested. We will miss Mike.
Bob and Diana Gomez,
Morgan Hill Police Department
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Your loss is shared by a great many people who called Mike their friend and admired him. I consider myself very fortunate to be included in that group. Mike taught me so much over the years. During one of the recent MHPD luncheons (March 2018), I sat next to
Mike and we had a wonderful visit! He told me about growing scorpion
peppers and kiwi and a variety of things. In recent years Mike and I had
not crossed paths too much so I feel very lucky to have had that opportunity
to visit with him.
Alec Gagne,
Morgan Hill Police Department
I met Mike through Suzanne. Suzanne and I worked at Kaiser as Advice Nurses. We actually met at the interviewing and testing process to be hired at Kaiser. I will never forget how friendly Suzanne was and we instantly became friends. During the 5 years I worked with Suzanne I was LUCKY enough to be invited to their ranch off the grid. When she would talk about living off the grid I really didn’t understand what that meant. I certainly understood all off the grid entails when I met Mike for the first time at the Quane ranch. I instantly liked Mike. I felt like we’d known each other for years. My first visit he gave me a tour of the property and met all their pets and got to relax and look at their beautiful views of the valley. Over the years I came up to visit and even got to target shoot with Mike and sharpen many of their knives as well as some of Mikes tools. It was an honor to know such a sweet and interesting man. I am so happy he was able to live out his days in a place that he loved so much..and to share this with his family and friends. I will miss Mike dearly.
Kathy Hyman,
Friend of Suzanne
Too soon Mike! Too many jokes to hear, things to learn from you fish to catch, trees to graft, and projects to work on together! Renaissance Man would be my best description. Mike was an off the grid kind of guy, created a slice of heaven for his family on Mount Umunhum. He taught me to graft fruit trees, could cobble together almost anything to work again, had stories and knowledge of about anything that could occur outdoors. Sometimes you wondered if he might be BS-ing just a bit... The first time I met Mike he had something very helpful to do for us, and it never stopped coming. Always willing to lend a hand, pick someone up, bring them home grown crops, do some heavy lifting, have your back. People come into our lives for various reasons. This gentleman brought so much, enriched us all. I used to fake him like I was going to give him a hug, to watch him squirm a bit. Wishing I could follow through on that one last time.
Brad Bergholdt,
Friend
It has taken me a long time to write this as there have been many memories to sift through. I remember you and the "river rats" at the Columbia; and the surfboard you made in high school shop that Dad hated and refused to lock up hoping it would be stolen. Us kids (and Foxy) loved floating the river on it.
I remember you teaching me to drive a stick then letting me use your VW while you were in Mexico. And thank you for not yelling aa me when you came home to that mashed up fender.
When I was little you called me "RCT" and "Little Itch". (I think I hated you a little for that.) And when I was in high school, you offered to beat up the guy who broke my heart. (I really loved you a lot for that.)
Thank you for giving us PJ (Punk Jr.), which began our lifelong love of Airedales. And for introducing me to Strawberry the pig on our visit when our Pat was just a baby.
I remember Dad taking me to your high school football games. And the day I came home from school and you told me that Dad had died. So many memories but not enough. I am so sorry I have lost touch in the past years. It was so easy to say maybe next month, maybe next year. There were so many more memories I have lost out on. God bless you. I love you.
Cindi, Mike's little sister
Your family played such an important role in my childhood. So many of my fondest memories were when we got together at your place. I still dream of someday having my own hidden paradise.
I do think my dad and Mike were such good friends because they were so alike. My boyfriend and his son joined Irelyn and I when we visited my parents this summer. My boyfriend, Bill, was trying to get my dad to ask about how he met my mom. My dad kept redirecting the conversation to talk about Mike. All he seemed to want to do was tell stories about his adventures with Mike. It was pretty comical. Every time Bill would try to steer the conversation back to my mom and dad, my dad would start off on another story about Mike. I know it was hard for him to hear that Mike is gone. I believe they are kindred spirits. Very much alike. I do think of you all often. Irelyn still talks about our last visit to your place. Se had so much fun. Know that I am thinking of you, Laurel, Michael, Kellee and families and love you all very much.
Kara and Irelyn, Family Friends
I met Mike when we were five years old. We were both in the same classes and activities at Christ the King Catholic Church in Richland. My maiden name is O'Neil, so I often sat next to Mike when we sat in alphabetical order which was common at that time. We grew to be good friends for life. Mike lived with my first husband and I when he moved to California. We named our son, Michael Thomas Stine after your Mike.
Mike had a fabulous sense of humor and such a warm, fun personality that everyone respected and love him. I was so happy to watch Mike's love and happiness grow when he met Suzanne! You were the perfect love and life-time partner for him, Suzanne!
I just read the comments and stories on your website to honor Mike. Tears rolled down my face as I read the beautiful tribute!
Kathy Childs, Lifelong friend
I will always remember Mike as a man who protected me when I needed it most. Even though he would never interfere in anyone's personal business, he was wise enough to know when I was in danger and to let me know. God bless him. I may be here today because of him.
I will also remember him as the little gardener! Every plant got a chance to grow. Every stray seedling got a pat and was lovingly tended. What a kind, gentle man and gentleman and loving father and husband. I will always remember him. He is gone too soon.
Terri Williams, New Almaden Neighbor
We remember Mike and his life so very well-lived...I was thinking of Mike the day before he passed and how pleased he was to help us graft our 100 plus year old apple tree in the back.
The Murphy Family, New Almaden Neighbors
In June 1978, my first trip to California, that I met Mike. He and Suzanne picked us up at my sister-in-law’s Cupertino home and took us to the Golden Gate Bridge and then to their home. I remember their home - it was where miner’s used to live - where the shower could fit at least 10 people. It definitely left a lasting impression on me, and my realization that this “Mike guy” must be someone so special to Suzanne.
I remember once, knowing a little about her Sacramento life with her Dad and Rodney and that she wasn’t really the “outdoors kind of person.” Asking Suzanne, “Is this the kind of place you always wanted to live at?” Her quick reply was “I LOVE MIKE and this is where Mike wants to live.”
As I got to know Mike, I couldn’t help but love him too because he took such good care of my cousin. He never raised his voice, protected her and always stayed calm and reassuring. I remember once, when we went in two cars to Sacramento. Suzanne got lost and called Mike at the hotel. Mike reassured Suzanne that she could find the hotel since she grew up in the Sacramento area (where the hotel was located). Sure enough, Suzanne arrived at the hotel shortly afterwards. Other times, Mike used to tell us that when Suzanne was late coming home from work, he would go down to look for her, just to be sure she was okay.
Mike was a friendly guy. Once, when my husband and I were using his car, Mike reminded us to wave at people when we drove through the town because they probably were thinking it was him.
My husband Vernon remembers Mike telling us that once, when he was on the way to pick us up, he stopped to buy gas and a man came up to him begging for money. The man was desperate and Mike believed him so he gave him some money. The guy offered to pay him back - Mike said it was not necessary- but the man insisted so Mike said, “Send it to Captain Mike Quane through the police station.” That’s the kind of guy Mike was- very compassionate.
It was always a learning experience when we were with Mike. He could tell you how to treat a diseased tree, catch a skunk and get rid of the odor, to always wear boots when unlocking the gate at the bottom of the mountain at night (we are from Hawaii and had no idea about snakes), or how his house was the only one with lights when there was a big blackout in the area. I was also amazed what he did to his mountain. The cool room (which we were fortunate to stay in) the pond and the victory gardens are to name a few. And I am even more impressed when he could tell me which chili pepper would be the best to use in my cooking. His lessons were usually accompanied with a “Mike” story. We would sit for hours after a meal at the dining table just listening to all of Mike’s stories. Thank you Mike for everything you taught us!
Frances, Suzanne’s cousin
I first met Mike and Suzanne Quane when they lived on Mine Hill while I was a seasonal Park Ranger. I considered him a mentor while I was with county parks. He always knew just how to handle any situation and could resolve any contact with totally positive results. There was no end to his knowledge and interests in regards to any topic. He always made me smile when I worked with him. I was very blessed to know him. Thank you Mike and may you rest in peace.
Lee Sencenbaugh, State Park Superintendent II (ret.)
Below are excerpts from an essay Mike's mother wrote to him on his 35th birthday, 1980.
Hi Mike and Suzanne,
Under this page is 35 years of memories compiled in the story form. It is a true story- not even the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
When Michael became three years old, he developed an abundance of curiosity and exuberance. He was very independent. He and his little friend who he called Eddie Ted. The two little three-year-old were inseparable that year. Michael is always exploring, always curious to how things are made. He will take things apart. His mother accused him of being destructive, but he wasn’t. He just had to tear it apart to see the inside.
Whenever you would see the dog Jeep, an Australian Shepherd, black-and-white, you know Mike was not far behind. He and the dog were together all the time. That was before the leash law in the locked doors. So when I wanted to check on Mike, I would call the dog and watch the direction it came from. One day we had a call from the postmaster. Someone had reported seen the little boys putting dust in the corner neighborhood maildrop. They were sure that it was Mike and Eddie Ted. Since they couldn’t prove it, no chargers we put forward, but the neighborhood lost the convenient maildrop. It was moved.
Bronie Quane, Mike's mother
I owe Mike and Suzanne a huge debt of gratitude for the kindness and love they showed my mom (Agnes Yuseff.). Starting in the early 70's, Mom kept telling me about Mike and Suzanne and then one, two, three kids. And all along, the stories were imbued with how good they were to her! Although my husband and I tried to be there for my parents and help keep their house together, we could not always manage and often we would hear that Mike had stopped by and solved a problem at their house. It was such a comfort and relief to know that Mike and Suzanne were there when we could not be!
The Quanes became my Mom's family-of-the-heart. Laurel, Michael and Kellee were the grandchildren Mom would not otherwise have had, and just as I think of Suzanne as my Mom's other (and usually better) daughter, I always think of Mike as the son she never had. Clearly, he treated her with the care and respect that a good son would have given.
Mom passed away in 2013 and I inherited her house, which was rented out. I told the Quanes that if it was ever something they would want they should let me know; five years later, I cried tears of joy when they said they were interested in the house for Laurel. Mom would have been SO happy!
I walked Mike through the property and pointed out every flaw and problem I could remember for full disclosure, because things had really deteriorated. (He probably already knew more of them than I did since, in addition to helping Mom, he had often helped the renter fix them.) A price was agreed upon and Mike and Suzanne set to work helping Laurel and Jason start the "remodeling" process (a much longer saga than anyone guessed.) Mike and Laurel worked together getting permits and plans and finally starting construction. It makes me so sad to think that Mike won't be there when they finally move in, but he will be there in every corner of the property, as he is in every corner of New Almaden.
Carole Beebe, Family Friend
CONTACT
While we are not having a memorial service at this time, we do wish to remember Mike through stories. If you would like to, please send in a story you have about Mike, his work, his home, or the influence he had on the community. You can send them through this website CONTACT form, to Quanebrain@aol.com, or PO Box 3 New Almaden, CA 95042. We will be posting the stories on this website for others to read (unless you note otherwise).
PO Box 3 New Almaden, CA 95042