Stanley H. Fletcher

Rest in Peace, Stanley H. Fletcher (1931-2015)

My dad, Stanley H. Fletcher, was always a hard working guy - the hardest working guy I've ever met. He was born in 1931 outside of Detroit, Michigan. His mother, Marie Cecelia DeLisle, was from Canada. His father was an abusive alcoholic, whose actions caused him to be placed in foster care at a very young age. In the 1930s and 40s, many foster children were treated as a labor force for farmers, and my dad - the self-confessed "runt" of his family, learned to get by in those conditions by working hard. Yet through all the hard times and sometimes in spite of them, he had many adventures. To hear him describe his childhood sounded at times like a Mark Twain tale gone awry: One moment he was "rescuing" baby raccoons only to have them viciously gnaw almost completely through his fingers -- and next, swinging like Tarzan through a barn on a rope, and nearly castrating himself on a rogue nail. I always imagined his early life was a slightly more dangerous version of "Our Gang" meets "Huckleberry Finn." Our Gang and the Little Rascals, always made him laugh out loud when I was growing up - and now I fully understand why.

Miraculously, in his teens, he rejoined and reconnected with all of his brothers and sisters, Donald (deceased), Gladys (also deceased), Patricia, Dorothy and Edward, and kept a strong family bond with all of them until the end.

In his late teens, he chose adventure and service over education, enlisting in the United States Coast Guard and traveling courageously to exotic locations around the world for more than 20 years. He retired an Engineman First Class from the United States Coast Guard in 1970, when he and my mother decided to adopt me - the only child they raised. He was introduced to my mother, Carol J. Burnett by her younger brother, Donny. Mom and Dad wrote to each other daily when he was on duty, just like you read about in great love stories. Mom saved every letter.

Part of his role in the USCG was being a lighthouse keeper. He fell from Execution Rocks Lighthouse in Long Island while painting the light tower. He remembered that when he was airlifted by helicopter to the hospital, the fastener broke and he dangled for part of the trip. He was the last keeper at the Esopus Meadows Lighthouse. He peacefully fished while stationed there, and would occasionally have his then girlfriend, Carol over for spaghetti dinners. He and my mother were proud of that place. They were supporters and members of the Save Esopus Lighthouse Commission and we ask that donations in his name be made in lieu of flowers to: c/o Esopus Meadows Lighthouse, PO Box 1290, Port Ewen, NY 12466.

Growing up, Dad played baseball with me and loved to take the family camping. We took our trailer on many summer weekends in So-Hi Campground in Accord, NY. My memories are of campfires, lazy mornings, bacon, Hank Williams, Charlie Pride, bingo and card games at night.

In their retirement years, mom and dad traveled to Maine every year. Loyal customers of the Wells - Ogunquit Resort Motel, they treated the owners and staff as family members and vice versa. My wife Sharon, our oldest son Ty and Dad made one last trip with him a few years ago after Mom passed. He wanted us to experience what he and Mom had experienced. He wanted to remember and retrace the footsteps they took in the sand.

The Lighthouse is a little dimmer now. The keeper of our small family has sailed to softer seas to join my mother, who sadly passed five years ago. He missed her every day, and the combination of his longing, with his body that had sacrificed for our country and our family to always put food on the table, clothes on our backs, and toys in my toy box, finally gave in to a more peaceful calling.

He passed in the early evening at home on Saturday, November 28th, 2015 with dignity. He was listening to Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, John Denver and Merle Haggard for most of the day. Melancholy outlaws and troubadours to serenade him from this life to the next.

If you have a story about my dad that you want to share, please use this place to tell it. It will mean so much to me and the family. He will be missed by all of us, including his two beloved grandson's, Ty and Desmond. If you want to offer condolences, I ask that you privately message me, or drop by Keyser Funeral Home on 326 Albany Ave, Kingston, NY 12401 on Thursday, December 3rd (2pm-4pm or 7pm-9pm). Thank you.