Anthony Brendan Cashen 1935-2026
| I always knew my stepfather Tony was a bit nuts. He entered our lives in 1972, when he married my mother and took responsibility for raising six school-aged children and paying two expensive mortgages in Westchester County. But just two years into this arrangement, he bailed on his high-paying Manhattan job and bought a hardwood lumber company located smack-dab in the middle of the Adirondack Park. This involved commuting weekly, 5 hours in each direction, and living in a timber peg hunting cabin, two miles up a treacherous access road, that was pretty much off the grid. One night in early 1975, we all drove up for a winter weekend to find that the tiny power line was down, and the little generator that was not much more than a lawn mower engine refused to start. So, I got to explain to my 6th-grade buddy that his ski vacation was going to feature a first night sleeping in sub-zero temperatures with no light or heat. That was a cold miserable night, and it became my touchstone tale for explaining to any new friends just what this guy Tony was capable of. Unfortunately, the ADK lumber industry collapsed, and so Tony moved on to many new things. But along the way he bought that little cabin, had it taken apart, moved to a nicer and more accessible location, and spruced up a bit. Importantly, it now has a (slightly) more dependable electric line and a back-up generator. For the past 50 years it has been the happiest of places for all of Tony’s children and their children too. *** Fast forward to yesterday. On our planned travel day from Jersey to our ADK spot, we got the news that Tony had died. It wasn’t entirely unexpected as he had been in Parkinsons decline for some time, But the timing of it coinciding with our trip was certainly poetic. We arrived at his cabin at dusk, to find the driveway covered by 4 inches of snow. But since it’s downhill all the way in, we just plowed our way through it. We parked right outside the garage… We unlocked the door… We hit the light switch… Bupkis. No power. No heat. The whole lake community was dark. The line in from the main road was apparently down. No worries. I started up the generator. Which – hooray! – powered up a few lights in the kitchen. However – boo! – there was no juice to the thermostat. Which meant no heat. We headed back to the car. We were gonna have to spend the night in a hotel in town. But having come down the hill in snow meant we weren’t gonna get back up it until the plow comes in the morning. Did I mention we had no heat? And did I mention the temperature was 14 degrees? Somewhere Tony was laughing his ass off. Or…maybe not. Just as we were considering whether to fire up the sketchy wood stove that hasn’t been cleaned out in years, there was a surge. A light or two blinked, the blue screen on the thermostat flashed, and the ancient basement furnace roared to life right under our feet. We unloaded the car and got busy around the house, which kept the chill off while the cabin warmed up VERY slowly. We slept under a few extra blankets. By this morning it had reached about 60 degrees. *** Life with Tony was always a somewhat risky adventure. You might find yourself getting spit at by a llama. You might find yourself swirling in the deadly undertow of a Colorado River rapid. You might get caught in gale-force headwinds while passing over Mt. Marcy in his single-engine Cessna. And you might just find yourself dancing under the stars, high on a hill, at a farm in the middle of nowhere, overlooking the Hudson River valley, when the cops show up because travelers along the Taconic Parkway four miles away saw your massive bonfire and called to report a conflagration! Tony created all that and much, much more. But you could always have faith that he’d pull it all off. And that he’d be there when you needed him. And somehow, last night, on his last day on this Earth, on his way out the door, Tony turned the power back on. |
With a tear in my eye, I send my love, thoughts and prayers. Tony was certainly special.
Thanks for that. Stay tuned for a gathering of some kind in Spencertown this summer…
What a wonderful and caring tribute for a great man. Our condolences to you and Gail and family.
Thank you.
So much love and gratitude to Tony and family for the MANY years of magical summer weekends flush with lovely surroundings, critters big and small, kinship of like-minded, music loving folks gathering annually to celebrate the wonder of it all together, none of which would have been possible without Tony and Gail’s amazing generous spirit.
Thank you for the memories sir☮️
I think I was just the Master of Ceremonies, Tony produced the event!
Dear Mike: great tribute. Sending love to you, your mom and your whole family. I hope to make it this summer.
Suann
Mike, You described Uncle Tony to a T! He will be greatly missed by all of us!
Thanks. Folks are working on a Columbia County gathering, probably the first half of August. Stay tuned.
I’m sorry to hear this. I have fond memories of getting to know Tony and all he did for BHHS soccer and later for his support during my time at Cornell. He’s a special soul.
Gibbs! Thanks and great to hear from you. He loved supporting all our friends and teammates. Send me an update. I hope you are well.
what a beautiful remembrance. Thank you for this! Blessings on Tony
Thanks! We are cooking a Memorial in Spencertown, likely August 8-9. Stay tuned.
Hey Mike!
My Dad passed away last week too at the age of 91. Even though it was expected, it still takes a lot of getting used to, even though he lived in Ga and I in Sydney, Australia. I remember Tony as a very outgoing guy, who took an interest in young people-like me- that he met and was very encouraging. I seem to remember riding in a jalopy of a car on a mountaintop somewhere with him, but don’t ask me where! Take care and keep the memories! cheers, John (georgia) Lee
Hey there Georgia. It must have been hard to be so distant to you Dad in the end. I hope he had folks around him.
Tony had my mom and 5 of his 6 kids were fairly local. My brother Harper in Oregon saw him on his 90th birthday. And all his grandchildren Facetimed him in final days, so he had plenty of support.
I’m certain that Jalopy was a military surplus Jeep, at his farm in Columbia County NY, that’s where the bonfire incident occurred.
Send me an email update to keeler@quicksilverhg.com, and I’ll apprise you of all here, including the sudden reappearance of Mike Gabbay who has been missing for the past 40 years!
I hope you are well.
With your warm words and memories of a life lived with a great man who gave you a good fun life growing up… I only wish I knew Tony because he sounds like my kind of friend… always an adventure to be had, a learning experience, love of life and always finding ways for things to work out and make everyone happy & feel loved and welcomed into his world.
I am saddened in hearing of your family’s loss it fills my heart with an unfortunate pain that I only understand to too well. Mike your kind words
and beautiful tribute to Tony’s life gives the feeling that I do know him even though we never met. Would love to honor Tony, you and your family by planting flowers that will come back every year, perennials or a flower bush on his
property by the cabin that you and your family & friends can enjoy every time you visit the life you have enjoyed together .
Prayers, loving thoughts to all of you
Michael, Susan & Harper,
We were so fortunate to have you guys and Gail & Tony as neighbors. Tony was a guy who could talk to anyone, even goofy teenagers. He didn’t talk down to you and just accepted you as the person you were. His ability to talk and communicate so well, made him so memorable and endearing. Just like all our parents, they will be a generation that will be missed. I am sorry for your loss, but I enjoy hearing about the memories. My best to all of you. Karl
Thanks, I hope you are well. I also heard from Downey. I have a few Keeler-Hinrichs stories to put together, I’ll send them to you all when I get there. It was an adventure!
Mike, that was perfect. I could see it all, feel it all. Sending you and the fam love and peace as you travel this road. Xo
He will be sorely missed. I spent a lot of time fixing and keeping his farm machinery and antique vehicles repaired and running. He was a good friend and helped me out immensely on several occasions. A little secret. Many of the vintage vehicles he had had no insurance on and were not registered. Occasionally he would drive one on the local roads that way. I would get after him about it. Nutty as it was he never got caught or got in any wrecks with any of them. I’m sure he’s up there now laughing about that.