In Memory - Glenn Patrick Stack

June 11, 1952 - June 22, 2022

Honoring Patrick

There will be a memorial in the coming months. Information will be provided directly.

The family welcomes your memories and stories about Patrick in the form below. And asks that in leu of flowers, please donate in his memory to one of the linked charities.

As time passes I will be adding his art to this page.

Your Memories

Photos of Patrick

I’ll save writing about Patrick in the 3rd person for the real obituary. For here and now, I just want to share my dad with everyone who care about him.

Earlier this year he had to stop doing so many things he loved due to back pain. In trying to treat that, they found the cancer. Pancreatic, stage 4. he spent 3 months in and out of the hospital before coming home on hospice to spend his last 2 weeks.

While he was home I offered to go through old photo albums with him. He didn’t want to talk about or look at the past. Instead he visited with friends, taught me how to use his newest camera and communicated his desire for all his things to go to people who will use them to create.

He didn’t want to talk about the past and as much as I want to keep that up, I’m a story teller. The easiest way for me to share him with you, is with some stories.

Some of my earliest memories of my father are of following him around with a camera in hand. He with a professional camera, me with a little disposable. He would stop and point out an angle, a framing, the way the light caught the surface just so, as he tried to teach a toddler photography. He had a unique way of looking at the world. He tried to teach it to me, I can only hope to do him justice.

He had an open door, always. It didn’t matter what time or what the problem was. As a grade schooler I had gotten confused about the number zero and base ten… don’t ask I don’t remember what the issue was. What I don remember was hiding under the desk in his office crying until he got home. I knew he could explain it and he did. He came home and made numbers make sense to my brain again.

He taught me so many things. To write code. To document. To be able to figure things out on my own. Sometimes using the internet or books, more often looking at the design of the object and working from there. To design so that other people could use the thing without books. To cook. To drive. To ask questions. To listen.

He also taught me to honor commitments. I have clear memories of being out at the barn (did I mention he was generous, when I asked for a pony as a kid, I got one… ok maybe he just spoiled me) with me while I prepped for a show. He sat in the car with a yellow pad and a mechanical pencil, hand writing code for a current project. We were there for hours and he wrote pages upon pages.

In the last two weeks I had with him at home I learned something I had always hoped was true. He was more than just my dad. People from work and his art shared stories and kind words and I learned that the father I love is exactly the same man you all knew. He touched so many lives and made us all better for it.

This space is dedicated to him