Memories of Michael Patrick Wolf

In memory of

Michael Patrick Wolf

Chicago, IL

December 28, 1979 - August 10, 2023

Dec 28, 1979 - Aug 10, 2023

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Kathy Siran

I'm so sorry for the loss of Michael. He was my godson. I will miss him dearly. 😢 I'll always think of him whenever I hear a FISH or Grateful Dead song 😢

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Michele Wolf

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Michele Wolf

Happy birthday Mike! Happy birthday Mike! Happy birthday Mike!

Michele Wolf

Shared a heart

Comments:

Michele Wolf

Happy Birthday Mike Happy Birthday Mike Happy Birthday Mike

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Amy Be

So sorry for everyone's loss of Wolfman, he was such a special human and I am honored to have been his friend. I regretfully will no longer be attending this event, but would like to send something to his mother and Cecelia/Phrog/Liam if anyone can provide their addresses to me at amy.buscemi@gmail.com or (312) 813-8778

Thanks in advance and may you all find peace at this special event.

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Amy Be

Thanks in advance and may you all find peace at this special event.

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Share your sympathy. Send flowers from a local florist to Michael's family or funeral.

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Sandy Folken

Shared a heart

Angie & Mike Berger

Come Celebration Mike Wolf

Sunday, September 24th

Central Park West Building

(Follow the signs)

Oak Brook Park District

1500 Forest Gate Rd

Oak Brook, IL 60523

Come whenever you can, 12pm to 4pm!

Live Music 12:30-2:30pm, light food and beverages, & a park outside for the kids.

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Angie & Mike Berger

Shared a heart

Michele Wolf

Kalice Lawler

Shared a heart

Michele Wolf

Ashley Downing

Mike was one of my dearest friends. I loved him immensely and I’m heartbroken that he is no longer here with us.

Sending prayers, hugs, positivity, love and sincere condolenses to Mike’s entire family, especially Phrog and Liam. I will always be here for you too! 🫶🏼

((( ❤️ )))

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Jennifer Martin Carlson

My condolences to Michael's family. Met Mike at Gomper’s Park. Liam and my Max have been playing ball together since 2018. Mike and I had a mutual interest, or call it a great passion for the band Phish, and chatted often as only two diehard Phish fans can. He would also let my youngest, Sam, toss his frisbees around during Max’s Gomper’s games, providing pointers for technique. The Carlson family will dearly miss Mike. He was a genuine guy.

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Ashley Downing

Michele Wolf

Angie & Mike Berger

Devin Braden

2015, Chicago, IL, USA

Wolfie has told this story a million times, so I'm going to give it ol' college try in his honor. In the summer of 2015, I flew out to Chicago for George and Sandy's wedding. At the reception, Wolfie and I got to talking about how much fun we had had at Phish's Northerly Island run the previous summer. We both admitted, in secret, that we were a little disappointed to be missing Phish at Alpine Valley that weekend, so we hatched a plan to get Angela (who I had not yet met) to drive us up to Alpine the next day with just one pav ticket among the three of us. Against all odds, the plan went through without a hitch and we all managed to get down to the pavilion with that one poorly-copied printout. Afterwards, I told Wolfie I needed to catch an early morning flight out of O'Hare, so he offered to hang out with me for a few hours before my flight. We eventually found ourselves in a 24-hour Mexican restaurant near Logan Square. We spent the next couple hours watching hipsters and barflies stumble in and out while cracking jokes and nursing our chips and salsa. Eventually, a particularly hip group of hipsters walks in and sits down at the bar. They're wearing denim jackets festooned with the patches of various indie rock bands. For 10 or 20 minutes, nothing remarkable happens, but then a particular song starts playing over the restaurant speakers. It's some especially hammy piece of Música Romántica, sung entirely in Spanish, but one of the hipsters immediately perks up and starts to listen. As the vocal cadence begins, I notice a second voice emanating from this strange hipster gal. A BEAUTIFUL voice. A voice like a professional singer. Somehow, this girl knows this entire song word for word! Wolfie and I, back in our corner, sit in awe of this incredible act happening before our very eyes. We watch this amazing, unassuming singer croon and gesture her way through verse after verse, never missing a note. Soon, with the encouragement of her crew and the bartender, this girl is belting out this song at the top of her lungs, expressive and pitch-perfect. As the song approaches its climax, her voice grows in both volume and emotional intensity. Right as the song hits its peak, we hear the sound of glass shattering and look over, dumbstruck, to see the bartender holding up the fractured stem of a margarita glass this girl had just broken... WITH HER VOICE. Seriously. With her voice! Her friends immediately envelop her in a cocoon of hugs and high-fives, ostensibly as amazed as we were that she had managed to break a glass with her voice alone. It sounds so improbable, but I assure your that Wolfie and I witnessed this incident with our four combined eyes. He texted me this picture a couple of years later in honor of that event, so I'm now posting it here in his honor. I don't know that it will ever sound as good without the two of us telling it in tandem, but I'm going to keep on telling this story any chance I get as a tribute to my friend and that very unlikely evening we shared together in Logan Square.

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