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Chuck Fisk 1938 - 2017

My dad Chuck Fisk passed away - The day after his birthday, the day before Father's Day. Even in death, he knew to make an exit in a way we'll never forget!

On June 16th, 1987 I went to live with my father and from then on he and I went on a lot of crazy adventures, went on a lot of hikes to abandoned locations here in New England, spent late nights listening to music and talking about the supernatural and unexplained phenomenon. Then there were those late night projects we would work on, soldering components into circuit boards - listening to Art Bell.

He and I talked a lot, we fought a lot because he always had to be wrong. But believe me, he was wrong. A lot. He screwed up just as many things as he got right.

Chuck Fisk lived by a different set of rules than the rest of us, There was a right way, and a wrong way, and Chuck's way.

My dad was a slob, a bit of a prick, opinionated, a genuine jackass and a lovable giant all at the same time. I was proud of him, embarrassed by him, loved him, hated him... I am who I am because of him and in spite of him. He used to say this to me, "Are you going to just do it, or are you going to REALLY do it?"

Are you going to be the kind of person who says he does that thing, or are you going to actually do it! Less talk, more walk!

The best thing about my relationship with my dad, though, is that he taught me a lot of things about how to find weird things on old topographic maps, then reference newer maps and actually FIND those old things and places!

Only Ham Radio operators will understand this -

On behalf of my dad, this Kilowatt Bravo One Wild Indian signing off! See you on the flip side!

As an aside – this was one of my father’s favorite movies and he loved this scene so much. So much in fact that we actually camped one New Years Eve and cooked beans by a campfire and had our own chit-chat about life and death. It’s one of the few moments of true sentement we had together.