Mark Thomason
1981-09-20 2024-11-10Our dear friend and classmate Mark Thomason unfortunately succomed after a long fight with EGPA and ALS this past fall. He leaves behind his wife Laura and their daughter Ava. Mark was a gentle giant, with a great sense of humor and genuinely nice to everyone he met. He enjoyed bodybuilding and traveled worldwide working for the technical industry. With all that, he loved coming home to spend time with his wife and daughter. A toast to absent friends gone too soon.
My eulogy at Mark’s memorial: Mark Thomason It’s so wonderful to see all these familiar faces gathered here to celebrate the incredible life of Mark Thomason—a husband, father, son, and friend who brought joy and strength to everyone around him. For me, Mark wasn’t just my best friend. He was my “brother from another mother,” a bond that began in childhood and will remain eternal. There are too many memories to share—I could stand here for hours reliving the adventures we had. But today, I’d like to highlight just a few moments that define the incredible person Mark was to me. I first met Mark in first grade. I remember him being introduced at the front of the class, and how tall and big he was, even then. We shared the same teachers from first through fourth grade. My very first sleepover was at Mark’s house, and we celebrated every birthday together during those formative years. When Mark’s family moved away after fourth grade, I was heartbroken. I didn’t think anything could cheer me up—until my mom told me our family would be moving, too, and we’d be living right next door to the Thomasons. From that moment, Mark and I were inseparable. While our new home was being built, my mom would drop me off at the Thomason’s every morning, where I got to play with Mark before making our way to and from Johnson elementary together. We had matching red bikes, and one day, Mark amazed me by unlocking my bike’s combination padlock without knowing the code. At the time, I thought it was magic, but looking back, it was just another example of his incredible strength, even as a kid. Middle school brought more adventures. Every morning, I’d wait for Mark to finish brushing his teeth and spraying water on his hair and slicking it back before we’d cut through the neighbor’s yard, cross a field, and jump an eight-foot fence to get to Webber Middle School. We’d do the same at lunchtime, racing back to our houses and hopping fences like pros. We even got in-school suspension together once for throwing a binder divider shaped like a boomerang—it accidentally hit another student, and we both paid the price. There was also a time when we wanted to talk to each other at night, so we bought walkie-talkies. The connection was terrible—me being on the top floor of my house and Mark in the basement of his. So, we devised a plan: we attached speaker wire to the antennas, run it across the roof and down the side of my house, into the Thomason’s yard, around their house, and down Mark’s egress window. We even buried the wire to keep it hidden. After all that effort, the reception was still bad—but we laughed about it for years. We built a fort in my parents’ attic above the garage and we even decided to sleep up there. It was freezing up there in the winter, but we didn’t care. Those cold nights were filled with laughter, stories, and the kind of memories you only make with your closest friend. We loved watching Chris Farley together, quoting lines from Tommy Boy every chance we got. Our favorite? “Brothers don’t shake hands. Brothers gotta hug!” It was a line that perfectly summed up our bond. As we grew older, we played football together, where Mark’s strength earned him a reputation as the toughest and most reliable player on the team. He was the guy you called when something heavy needed moving—literally and figuratively. My family loved telling the story of when we returned from a trip with a giant redwood carving of two bears. It had taken all the strength my dad, brother, and I could muster to move it. But when Mark stopped by, he picked it up effortlessly and asked my mom, “Where do you want it, Colleen?” College took us in different directions, but we stayed connected as best we could in the days before cell phones and texting. I admired Mark’s faith, which was different from mine, and supported him as he left on his mission. I wrote him handwritten letters while he was away and was there to welcome him home. Back in Colorado we would hang out, go boating and I was able to support him and watch him compete for Mr. Colorado. He met a wonderful lady and moved to California, Laura called Mark her “Hunk”. I visited Mark here in California, we spent a magical day at Disneyland—two grown men laughing like kids, wearing pirate hats, and screaming on Splash Mountain. We stood by each other as groomsmen in each other’s weddings, a testament to the brotherhood we shared. He absolutely loved Laura and their beautiful daughter, Ava. We would always stay in touch sharing the wonderful trips and memories created by each family. I am forever grateful for our time together, including our last visit on the California coast, where we walked the beach, laughed, shared childhood memories, and talked about the joys of fatherhood. Even then, his gratitude and love shone brightly despite the challenges he faced. Mark was a fighter, the strongest and most determined person I’ve ever known. He faced his battle with courage, never losing his love for life or the people around him. Even in his final days, his love for his family shone brightly. Mark, I will treasure our friendship and all the memories we shared—the laughter, the adventures, and the quiet moments that shaped my life. The pain of losing Mark will never fully go away—it’s something I will never understand. But I take comfort in God’s promise of eternal life, and I know we will be together again. To everyone here, let’s honor Mark’s memory by going out and making our “Mark” on life-smile always, laugh often, live fully, show kindness, and spread love. That’s how we keep his spirit alive. God Bless!
tribute by Tom Waido