WILLIAM MICHAEL “MICK” BENNETT

William Michael Bennett - “Mick” to friends who knew him best, passed away on December 27th, 2021, at his home in Salt Lake City, Utah.

He is missed and survived by his wife of 48 years, Janet (or Jani as he fondly called her) his 5 children

and their partners: Michael (Ninita), Laura (Cac), Kevin (Tammi), Jon (Kenn) and Chris; 15 grandchildren: Shane, Tommy, Lindsay, Myke, Cameron, Sara, Courtney, Ireland, Kirstin, Baily, Adrianna, Sophia, Hunter, Scarlett and Charlee; as well as 8 great grandchildren and several nieces and nephews.

Mick was born in Chattanooga, Tennessee on May 10, 1947 to Tokey and Marie Bennett. He had one sister, Sharon, who was nine years older. Each of them had preceded him in death.

When dad was only a couple of years old his family moved to Northern California. Dad went to all Chico schools, graduating from Chico High School in 1965. Shortly after graduation he and his high school sweetheart, Susan Jones, were married and he was swiftly whisked off to the Vietnam war. Serving for his country remained a source of pride for him throughout his life. He rarely left the house without sporting a VA hat of some sort, complete with pins from his service.

Upon returning from Vietnam he and Sue were graced with two amazing boys - Mike and Kevin. But as people grow and change in the years that follow high school and war, so did the two of them, and their marriage came to an end in early 1973.

Later in 1973 he met and married Jani. The two met at a gas station where he was an attendant. Being a divorced woman and single mom of an (albeit

adorable) little girl, Laura. She was wary, but true to his character, he persisted and only 3 months after their first date the two were married. Immediately afterwards he adopted Laura. In the few years that followed they had two more charming boys, Jon and Chris.

We could go on and share information about where our dad worked and for how long, but that’s really not important. What’s important to know about him is that he loved life. But when we say he loved life we don’t mean crazy adventures or excitement. He certainly wasn’t a thrill seeker in any way. What he loved was the simple mundane day to day that is life - like family dinners, yard work, and boardgames with grandkids. He would strike up a conversation with anyone at anytime, anywhere, taking a genuine interest in whomever he met and always learning their first name. It was important to him to know people. As a kid this was a bit annoying. Now as an adult and looking back, it’s incredibly admirable.

Many of his happiest hours were spent walking his dogs in Upper Park. He always had a dog.

He would say they were hairy angels with four legs. Regardless of the weather he would take off on a walk with his dogs and be gone for hours, just roaming and taking it all in. He also loved to do woodworking and home projects and had the patience of a saint when any of his

grandkids would want to help; teaching them how to properly use certain tools and encouraging their ideas and creativity.

There was nothing on this earth that dad was more proud of than his kids and grandkids. He would happily give a rundown to anyone who asked about what we were each up to at any

given time - and there were a lot of us to keep up with. He may not have remembered all the details in life, but he always remembered what we were busy accomplishing and never held back letting us each know he was proud of us. His love for Jani was ever present as well, preparing a mocha for her each and every morning until the final couple weeks of his life and referring to her as “My Bride” all throughout their 48 years together.

He was a genuinely happy person, always the optimist and full of integrity and kindness. In his final years, when his body stopped cooperating, and he was no longer able to take his much enjoyed long walks with his dog, he never complained. As his days were nearing an end he

was asked if he had any words of wisdom to impart to us. He simply said: “Just love people.

You never know why they act the way they do, so just love.”

If you could ask him he’d say he’d had the very best life possible. We know this for certain because he told us often. As his days neared an end, we all knew it was coming, but letting someone like our dad go just isn’t that easy. We consider ourselves fortunate that he didn’t leave any unfinished business or words unsaid. We all know where we stand and that we’ve been fully loved by him which just makes him all that much harder to miss.

Rest in Power Dad. May the god that greets you be a pack of dogs just waiting for the perfect soul to

take them on a long walk.