Mr. Casey D. Paquet's Obituary
Casey Paquet can’t be adequately summed up in an obituary. Lines of text won’t do him justice. Before starting with what he was, let’s talk about what he wasn’t.
Much as he might have tried to play it, he wasn’t a misanthrope. He didn’t hate everyone. He was discerning (and definitely gruff). He didn’t give his affection out to just anyone. So, if he knew you, he liked you. And if he knew you well, he liked you a lot.
He was not an urban legend—but he might sound like one when you consider the sheer amount of things that he accomplished in his short time on this earth.
He was not a planet. Although he did seem to have a gravitational field that drew you in and captured you in its orbit. Nor was he an ocean, though there was a vastness to him, and he had depths where the light couldn’t reach. Also, he was pretty salty.
No, Casey Paquet wasn’t a myth or a metaphor. In fact, he hated metaphors. He was just a man. And it may come as a surprise that he had an actual birthday. April 24th, 1977 (sorry to spill the beans, bud).
He had a place of origin—Glendale, California. He had parents—Jon Paquet and Patti Manuele. He had a brother—Paul. He had a stepfather, Gene Manuele, and two step-siblings—Eric Webber and Staci Kennelly. He had nieces he cared about dearly—Lulu, Kyle, Dani, and Sammy. Casey had a wife, Sommer. Between the two of them, they amassed friends and experiences that could fill a dozen lifetimes. Whether trekking up the Great Wall of China or exploring cypress stands in a kayak, they shared a love that was unique and surprising.
He was a collector. Of instruments. Of funny web domains. Of talents. Of ephemera. Of details. Of people that he cared about. Everything that he saw inspired him in some way—good or bad.
He was passionate about almost everything that held his attention. And that was a lot. He was an incredibly talented musician—there wasn’t an instrument he picked up that he couldn’t figure out. He was exceptionally devoted to work. Whether working on a photo shoot for a brochure at Eckerd College or art-directing a luchador flying through the air, he viewed creative work as an extension of his creative life, and would toil tirelessly to ensure that the end result was something he was proud of.
Casey approached life with a unique blend of curiosity and cynicism. You could tell him you were building a ladder to the moon, and he’d show up with a hammer, a six-pack, and blueprints on the back of a napkin.
He leaves behind his family. He leaves behind his wife, Sommer. He leaves behind a community that cared for him more deeply than he could have known.
Casey was a once-in-a-lifetime person. If you were lucky enough to know him, you know that. And do trust this: as cratered and hollowed out as you feel by his loss, you are far from alone.
There will be a small funeral service for family and close friends at Memorial Park Funeral Home (5750 49th St N, St. Petersburg) on June 9th at 1:00 P.M., and a celebration of life at Behar Peteranecz Architecture (2430 Terminal Dr S, St. Petersburg) on June 16th from 6-10 P.M.
He may be gone, but the ripples he left in this world will continue to go out for many, many years.
Bye, buddy. You were a good one.
What’s your fondest memory of Casey?
What’s a lesson you learned from Casey?
Share a story where Casey's kindness touched your heart.
Describe a day with Casey you’ll never forget.
How did Casey make you smile?