The following was read at a family memorial for Andre on June 6, 2021. It was written by brother-in-law, Skip Shannon:

Andre and I spent a lot of time together. Mostly outdoors driving and hiking these mountains and valleys - especially around the Kern Valley and up into the Eastern Sierras. Lots of time hunting with shotguns and bird dogs. He never learned to shoot very well, but he loved being out doing it. He was game for any kind of challenge

We both loved music and did a lot of partying too. We weren’t always the best influence on each other but managed to stay out of trouble. Andre was unique and had his own take on the situation. We disagreed on some things but remained friends for almost 50 years that I’ve been married to Renee (his sister). He was the best man at our wedding. Through it all, good and bad, I think we had a mutual love for one another.

It was tough on Andre and the family to see him lose his health over the last few years. He was blessed to have his sister, Jacquie, by his side for better or worse, going above and beyond taking care of her brother. The family owes Jacquie a lot for all she did for him.

Sorry I couldn’t make it here with you all. Even though Andre and I are not there, we’re in one spirit and Andre is at peace in heaven with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It was a blessing to hear Andre say he “Loved Jesus” before he passed. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”, John 3:16. That promise gives me hope that I will see him again.

Hi to everyone, love and may God bless you all,
Skip.

First an introduction: Andre and I were first cousins, born less than a year apart. Andre's dad, Al and my Dad were brothers. Al was born in 1921, my dad in 1925. I lost track of Andre around our teenage years so most of what I remember is from when we were kids. Since that was 60+ years ago, most of it is kind of vague, bits and pieces. 

My family grew up in Whittier. Most Sundays we'd go to church, then load everybody into the car and head over our grandparents. I remember their home at Figueroa and 109th Place in South Central LA, where Dad and Al grew up.  I can't really tell if the old place is still there; everything in that neighborhood is fenced off and barricaded.  It was always fun when Andre came over or when we went to visit at Al & Rita's apartments on Hoover. Andre and I were, ummm, not quiet and well-behaved little boys when by ourselves and even less so when we got together. 

Sunday afternoons at my grandparents were pretty boring. We'd watch Victory at Sea (Navy documentaries about how they won the war) and John Wayne movies (about HE won the war).  So, primed by war movies, whenever Al would come over, we'd excitedly ask him "how many Japs he killed." He'd just laugh and never answer.  Years later I realized how grossly inappropriate that question was, in so many ways. 

I think my favorite story about Andre is one that I only heard.  Al used to take Andre to see horror movies, even when he was little.  (My parents didn't approve – they said Andre would wake up with nightmares).  But at one horror movie, in the middle of a very tense scene, Andre suddenly announced – loudly – "Dad, I shit my pants." You could say it broke the mood in the movie theater. 

When our grandmother, Annie Ouellet, died, the funeral was held in Whittier, where she and Grandpa had moved around the mid-1960s. The burial was at Holy Cross Cemetery (in the Holy Family section), the same West L.A. cemetery where Al and Rita are buried.  For the long ride from the church to the cemetery, there was a hearse carrying her coffin and two limos. I assume our parents were in the first limo. I know the grandkids piled into the 2nd limo. On the 20 mile drive out to the cemetery, our limo developed engine overheating problems and eventually seized and broke down right outside the cemetery. We walked the last hundred yards or so. 

Somehow, along the way in that rattling, overheating limo, we started joking and the ride soon turned into a riot of laughter and story-telling. We arrived at the burial still laughing and giggling, which garnered some disapproving looks from everybody else gathered around the grave. 

I went to Al's funeral years ago and was stunned to see how much memorabilia there was from his time in the Marines in the Pacific.  Those years had to be the absolute worst time of his life. And yet . . .  
To get an idea of the feel and smell of the war in the Pacific for the grunts and groundpounders, I can't recommend a better book than "With the Old Breed" by E.B. Sledge.

* ** *

By way of catching everybody up with our side of the family, my older brother Larry spent a career as a research professor at the University of Illinois – Chicago, directing a research project on HIV transmission among IV drug abusers. He's now a retired professor emeritus and still looks like a hippie. And he's got some great stories to tell. 

My sister, Carol, is a retired nurse living in Sacramento with her husband, Robert, and her daughter Josina's husband and two kids. Carol got married around 1973 in the back of a saloon in Nevada so she and Robert could qualify for a loan to buy a house – at that time banks wouldn't loan to unmarried partners. Her son, Makena, is living in San Diego. 
Carol worked out a family tree, going back to Rene Houallet, who came from Montmartre, near Paris, to New France around 1666. Lemme know if you're interested in seeing it.

Bill, who's Jacquie's age, is living in Hesperia, CA with his wife, Judy. They've been married for about 35-40 years now. Bill has one daughter, Sabrina, with Judy and adopted Judy's first daughter, Diana. 

Dad moved to Grass Valley, CA in the 1980s, still Catholic and VERY conservative.  He died of pancreatic cancer in December, 2009.  Our mom turns 92 soon and is living in an assisted living facility in Victorville, a few miles from Bill. She's still got her marbles, though a fall and concussion a few years ago put a dent in her ability to remember new stuff. 

I got a job at USC in 1975 on a research project investigating motorcycle accidents on scene. By the time the research funding ran out in the early 1980s, I had investigated about 1200 crashes, figuring out how and why they happened, what caused the injuries and how helmet damage is related to head injuries. It turns out I had a skill lawyers need in an expert witness, so I spent the next few decades working with lawyers on their lawsuits, as well as going back to research and publishing from time to time. I'm retired now. 
My older son, Julian, got a PhD in political science from U Colorado – Boulder. So did his wife, Jamie. They have two kids.  Now he is a high-ranking civilian in the Pentagon. If the rest of the "deep state" is as dedicated and professional as Julian is, then I have a lot of confidence in the deep state to uphold their oath to the Constitution. 
My younger son, Jon, got a PhD in particle physics (specifically neutrino research) from UC Berkeley (2015) and is now working as a research scientist with MIT. At the moment, he's angling for a job at the Stanford Linear Accelerator Center. If that doesn't pan out, he figures he'll go into private industry in Silicon Valley and make twice as much as he would as a university research professor. And, yeah, I'm bragging about my kids. So shoot me. 

You all had a wonderful brother, I loved reading all you great memories. It brought me back to the special times we had with our siblings and cherished parents. Your memories are as unique and special as your cherished brother.

My brother and I were Irish twins...11 months apart. As we were growing up, I would follow him anywhere, mimic everything he did, my poor Mom was no match for the two of us. Later I realized some things should be done in moderation but Andre was full out...he drove fast, played music loud, kayaked down raging rivers. Most of his cars had battle scars and he was always modifying sound systems for max output. He loved to hunt but was a terrible shot...he loved to fish and caught an 8lb Rainbow on 4lb test with ice on the guides (Skip coaching him through the entire battle). He was always exploring and didn’t fear getting stuck...that was part of the adventure. He loved to read and knew something about everything...I was amazed he could retain so much information.

He lived with Muscular Dystrophy for many years and it eventually led to the complications causing his body to fail. In 2016 he survived a fast-paced wildfire by grabbing his car keys and leaving everything else behind. He created a new home with our baby-sister, Jacquie. Last Friday we had a family-Zoom call - Andre, our sisters Jacqueline and Monique, brothers-in-laws John and Skip and Andre’s daughter, Renee. Lots of memories, lots of laughter and tears and lots of love. We take comfort knowing Jesus was his Lord and Savior and has welcomed Andre into a new, everlasting adventure.

I love him and will miss him!

This was originally posted on Facebook 3/9/21

So many good memories with my dad-
Summer adventures in Sequoia, learning how to catch and clean fish, watching b level horror films and then telling ghost stories about the “O” house, and scouring all of LA and LA County looking for rare or interesting vinyl. Our favorite record shops were Go Boy in Redondo Beach and the Tower Records in Torrance. We both loved cats, Giuliano’s and Lomeli’s, and grabbing a malt at the Fosters Freeze. I will reflect warmly upon those days that were filled with adventure and am grateful I was able to spend time with my dad in his quieter final moments before being returned to the universe.