I feel so blessed that I was present with my dad in his final days and at his side, along with Cassie, at his passing. It was a beautiful and  peaceful ending to a very interesting life! He passed on the same day as his own father “Rabbit McGrady” had passed 34 years earlier.

It’s hard to believe I’ll never hear one of his jokes again (even though I heard most of them 1,000 times already!)

I think I got my love of story telling from my dad. And now I realize how much I’ll miss hearing his stories. 

His stories of his days in New Mexico, hunting and fishing with Rabbit, his stories of running his own shaved ice truck delivery business as a teenager, of being an Eagle Scout, and asking Mom out on their first date when he was 14 and she was 12. Of his love Texas A&M and his love of swimming and coaching. All the stories of his extended family in Texas. His fishing trips in the wilds of Canada with his dad and high school buddies. The practical jokes his dad played on him and then he played on me and my sisters! 

When I had my own children, he told them the same stories, played the same practical jokes,  took them fishing and taught them how swim and canoe in the Delaware River. He was a terrific Grampa to my kids. 

He always had a joke and a story, even after he fell last May and broke his hip. I remember one of the nurses coming in to care for him. 

She asked, 

“Is this Mickey McGrady?”

His reply, laying helpless in the bed 

“Yes! What there is left of him!”

I am so proud so say that my youngest grandson, born last August is named for Dad. Grady Alexander Smith!

Grady will never know Grampa Mickey, but we will be sure to pass on the stories and some of the jokes! 

Fly High Dad!! We will all miss you but we know you are right where you want to be, with Mom and Maryanne ! 🕊️ 

As a little girl, I used to wish Mickey was my dad 😊 I spent a lot of time at Trudy and Mickey‘s house, and they welcomed and cared for me and my sisters as their own.

Mickey’s strong military personality, his ability to always make us laugh, his huge heart, and his quiet loyalty and courage inspired me when I was little and still does to this day.

Mickey is one of the boys’ godfather. I’m so grateful for his influence in the boys’ lives. We still reminisce of the ways he mentored and encouraged them.

He told me one time that encouragement was a more effective means of teaching a child than criticism. It was a powerful lesson that I’ve never forgotten and have tried to apply as a mother.

One memory that always makes me smile is the time he had one of his famous sneezing fits.

He started sneezing and just couldn’t stop. Every time he sneezed, I said “God bless you” and handed him another tissue. He must have sneezed and I must have said “God bless you” about 40 times.

The whole time he kept shaking his head, and I thought he was trying to stop the sneezing. But really, he was trying to tell me to stop saying “God bless you,” because he knew the sneezing wasn’t ending anytime soon. But every time he tried to speak, another sneeze interrupted him.

He couldn’t stop sneezing, and I couldn’t stop blessing him! When it finally stopped, we both started laughing, and he gently instructed me that the next time he started sneezing, I should refrain from saying “God bless you” 😂

That’s just one story among many like it that captures the humor and warmth that made Mickey so special. I will always remember him with love and gratitude ♥️✨

My condolences to Mickey's family.  I have known the McGrady  family for as long as I can remember.  They were our neighbors for until I was seven and my sister was nine. My sister Beth was close friends with Cassie. I played frequently with Mary Ann.  I think Alissa may have babysat for us a few times.Their family was always kind to us and I always love going over to their house . 

I got to know Mickey a lot more when my mom was his legal secretary when he had a law practice in Calicoon NY.  My sister and I would sometimes go and visit my mom during the summer when she was working.  Mickey was always so kind to us and let us sit at a spare desk and pretend we were secretaries. I also remember him letting us  our hands. Every Christmas he gave my mom a beautiful poinsettia and I remember they had a Christmas party with members of his law practice and their families. It was a lot of fun and the food, although very healthy was delicious.. 

I didn’t see as much of them in my adulthood because I moved to Florida, but we kept in touch on Facebook. I know my sister was periodically in touch with Cassie.  When my sister Beth got cancer, Alyssa and Cassie were so supportive. It meant so much to us to have them at her funeral. 

My entire family was devastated to hear of the loss of beautiful Mary Ann. Her death was doubly hard for everyone as it could’ve been prevented. I  think Alissa, Cassie and I understood each other’s grief at the loss of a sister gone too soon. 

I hope it brings some comfortto know that Mickey is in heaven with Trudy and Mary Ann.  He is looking down on his family with pride and love..

To the entire family, please know that you are in my thoughts,  prayers. Love to you all!!!

As a parent of young children when Mickey was heading up the drill team, I have always been grateful for what he taught those kids to do... such precise marching, and the kids loved it.

And then there were all of the great Beauford and Slim performances on Saturday night. They were the highlight of the evening for me. I think I still share some of those wonderful stories with others when the opportunity presents itself. Because of the videos we were doing at the time, some of those stories were retold dozens, if not hundreds, of times and they were still good every time!

Aside from all of that, he was a great guy.  Fun to be around and glad to have had him for a friend.

I will always remember Mickey for his humor and his incredible gift for storytelling. He could take the most ordinary moment and turn it into something captivating, keeping you listening right until the very end.

As my sister Gabrielle shared, he would come over to help us care for my father after his terrifying seizures, bringing a calm and grounding presence during frightening moments. His quiet strength meant so much to our family.

Mickey and Trudy were dear friends to us, and will be remembered with warmth and affection.

My heart is with you both as you say goodbye to your dad. Growing up next door and being so close, he was never just our scout leader, he was part of our everyday lives.

I still hear him on hiking trips reminding us to step on logs not over them in case of rattlesnakes. I’ll never forget the day at the pond when I thought I was drowning because I could not touch bottom, and he calmly waded in and brought me out. No drama, just steady and sure.

He always showed up for our family. When my dad had seizures and became unconscious, he would come right over, often at night, and somehow fill those frightening moments with one of his interesting stories, easing the fear.

And I still smile remembering when I jumped up at your dinner table thinking I was choking, and he calmly said I couldn’t be choking if I was talking. Totally Mickey. Steady, logical, unflappable.

Because we were all so close, he shaped my childhood in ways that feel deeply personal. I hope there is comfort in imagining him reunited with Trudy, Maryanne, and Andy. After all he carried in recent years, I’m grateful he is finally at peace.

He truly made a difference in my and my whole family’s life. ❤️

Memories about Mickey come to me more often than you would expect.

I spent a lot of time in Mickey and Trudy’s home growing up. I remember the laughter, the joking, the ease between them. Their marriage stood out to me even as a child. It felt functional, loving, rooted in mutual respect. You could see how they took care of each other in everyday ways. They were connected, loyal, steady. They had each other’s backs. I never thought of being at their house as “old” or “boring.” It was a place I looked forward to — a place where I felt safe and cared for.

One of the memories that comes back to me most often is a completely ordinary conversation we had when I was about 20 years old. I was sitting in his office eating maple yogurt and trying to convince him to try it. He told me he only liked vanilla yogurt — the kind with the cream on the top — and once he learned to like something, he stuck with it. If he was happy with something, he didn’t feel the need to change it. That small comment always stayed with me. It was simple, but it described him so well — steady, content, loyal to what mattered.

I remember once being in his office after a difficult phone call with my mom. I thought I was alone, trying to pull myself together. Mickey noticed I was upset and took a moment to check in with me. It wasn’t dramatic or intrusive — just kind. He made sure I was okay and able to get through the rest of the day. I was smiling again when he left. It was a small gesture, but I always remembered it.

When JP was about five weeks old, I had just begun integrating back into work after maternity leave when he had a medical emergency and we ended up in the hospital. Mickey called needing to ask me something about work, and I remember answering the phone in what was probably a slightly hysterical state, explaining that I couldn’t talk because I was in the hospital with my baby. The emergency passed and everything stabilized, and later, Mickey would gently tease me about how I sounded on the phone — the stress in my voice, the panic. It sounds like it shouldn’t be funny, but it was, because everything turned out okay. He completely understood in the moment and even apologized for calling. But afterward, he made light of it in a way that let us laugh about something that had felt overwhelming. That was very much his way — steady in the crisis, and then able to bring humor back in once the storm had passed.

Mickey was also JP’s godparent. We baptized JP in a hurry because he was having serious breathing problems and we wanted to make sure he was baptized, just in case. Mickey stood in the North House with me, Matt, and Susie, JP’s other godparent, and promised to watch over him throughout his life. I know he felt it was an honor, and I always sensed that he quietly kept an eye on JP. I appreciated that more than he probably ever knew.

I remember him teaching the kids how to swim. One of those kids was my son JP, who was about four or five at the time. Mickey took a special interest in making sure JP truly learned and succeeded. JP could have easily gotten lost in the shuffle or overshadowed by more confident kids, but Mickey made sure he didn’t. He was patient and intentional, and when JP finally mastered what he was learning, the pride on his face meant everything to me. Mickey gave him more than swimming skills — he gave him confidence.

I haven’t been in close touch in many years, but that distance doesn’t erase what he and Trudy were to me. Growing up, they often felt like a second set of parents — people whose presence shaped me quietly but deeply.

When I think of Mickey, I think of steadiness, fairness, humor, loyalty, and the kind of quiet kindness that changes a person more than grand gestures ever could.

He left an imprint that lasts.

To Mickey’s family, I’m so very sorry for your loss.  He will be missed. 💐

Grampa Mickey was everything a good grandfather should be. A great storyteller, a teacher, loving and kind and full of jokes. I was proud to be his granddaughter especially because I knew the other kids in the neighborhood looked up to him as well. He taught us all to swim, how to fish, how to tie a good knot and the importance of having your own battle cry when you jumped off the big dock (his favorite was “Geronimooooo!!”) 

When I was probably 12, he formed a group of neighborhoodkids together to trek through the woods cleaning up any trash we found. I remember him drilling into us the importance of the three Cs: calm, cool, collected. He said these were the three best qualities to have especially in sticky situations. 

Using his military background, he led us in our own amateur cadet drill team, and I was very proud to be chosen as the cadet drill team leader. We got to carry wooden rifles and endlessly practiced routines up and down the dirt roads to the drums and fifes. Speaking for myself, I found those endless hours marching back back-and-forth monotonous, but looking back I appreciate the discipline it gave me and the memory of his devotion to seeing us doing our best and making each other proud. 

I miss him and grandma Trudy welcoming me into their home in Sedona and proudly showing me around the place that was so close to their hearts. I could see how happy they both were there and it made me glad to witness.