Mark Pullen VanDeusen

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University of Rochester

Mark VanDeusen Obituary

Mark Pullen VanDeusen, 50, formerly of Chandler, AZ, died on Wednesday,
May 31, 2006, due to complications of surgery and cancer. A Memorial service will be held at 11:00 a.m. Saturday, June 10, 2006, at Chapin Baptist Church with Rev. Dan Ratchford and Rev. Tim Hanley officiating. Mr. VanDeusen was born July 7, 1955 in Rochester, NY. He was a graduate of Williamson Central High School '73, Williamson, NY and the University of Rochester '77, Rochester, NY. He was a loving husband and father and a faithful servant of his Lord, Jesus Christ. He is survived by his wife of 25 years, Deobrah Burkeen VanDeusen; children, Kayce VanDeusen of Chandler, AZ, Kourtney VanDeusen of Chapin and Kyle VanDeusen of Chapin; two brothers and sisters-in-law, Peter (Denise) VanDeusen of Miami, FL, Jeffrey (Janice) VanDeusen of Williamson, NY; and one sister, Sarah VanDeusen of Marietta, GA. Memorial donations may be made to LifeChange, Inc., 12631 N. 36th St., Phx, Az, 85032 or the Salvation Army. Caughman-Harman Funeral Home, Chapin Chapel, is in charge. www.caughmanharmanfuneralhome.com (803) 359-6118

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Published by The Arizona Republic on Jun. 8, 2006.

Memories and Condolences
for Mark VanDeusen

2 Entries

sarah vandeusen

June 11, 2006

My name is Sarah VanDeusen and I am Mark’s favorite sister. I can say that because I am his only biological sister.

When I was five years old, I remember my mother thinking she had strep throat and several months later I had a baby brother. My parents named him Mark.

I remember Mark’s beloved spring horse named Rochester. He received him for one of his earliest birthdays. Dad brought him from “the city.” Mark would come downstairs in the morning, mount Rochester, bounce up and down to wake up as he sucked his thumb and held his blanket. The more awake he became, the harder he would bounce. Sometimes a spring would break and Mark would end up on the kitchen floor having been bucked over the head of his horse. Rochester would hang lopsided until someone could bring a new spring from “the city” to replace the broken one. Once his horse was repaired, Mark would ride again, bouncing happily until the next spring-breaking episode that would land him on the kitchen floor and the whole routine would repeat itself. My brother was tenacious even at that young age!

When Mark was 7 or 8 years old, he was beginning to doubt the existence of Santa Claus. My dad was always the first one downstairs on Christmas morning. This particular year, he tore the fireplace apart, turned the fender over in the middle of the floor, spread ashes all over Mom’s living room rug, and made a huge racket indicating that Santa had had a tough time getting down the chimney. Mark was dumbfounded when he saw the mess and believed in Santa for another year.

I remember Mark’s journey into the world of rocket science. He would order engines, parachutes and various other rocket parts through the mail, construct the models and launch them in the north field or the apple orchard at Williamson. There were several successful launches, but many rockets and their guts were lost forever in the atmosphere or in the apple trees. It was an expensive hobby and finally Mark found new ways to spend his weekly allowance. However, his interest in rockets and the solar system remained with him through adulthood. He shared it lovingly with his family and friends. Periodically we would receive wonderful emails from him with detailed pictures of Saturn with its rings, or of some other celestial body that he had taken through his telescope.

There was a wild baby rabbit named “Ralph” in our home for a time.. Mark mowed over his nest in the Williamson fields with the Gravely tractor. Ralph’s mother was killed, so Mark and my mother fed and nurtured that baby bunny with an eye dropper and lettuce until he was big enough to be let loose and fend for himself in the fields of 480. Over the years, when we were home hiking and saw a rabbit, we would automatically call out, “Hey Ralph. Is that you buddy?”

Mark played the trombone in the school band – not a popular instrument, but a necessary one to complete the sound of the brass section – particularly for the John Philip Sousa marches. He played it while wearing wire braces on his teeth – a feat not many of us could have accomplished. Through this experience, and the overall musical atmosphere in the family, Mark developed a deep appreciation and love for all genres of music. He even wrote some great melodies on his guitar.

I remember a boy who never thought he was good enough, never thought that he “fit in.” He believed that he had to fill the shoes of his parents and his older siblings to be worthy. Why I don’t know. I missed many of Mark’s accomplishments because I was away from home. I regret that today.

Mark’s college days at the University of Rochester were tough. He struggled with the Engineering Curriculum. He began in Chemical Engineering, because he wanted to be like his father who he adored, but then he switched to Electrical Engineering, which I believe became his true gift to the scientific world. I was newly married at the time and living in a suburb of Rochester. My husband and I would get weekly phone calls from Mark. He would tell us how depressed he was and that he couldn’t do the course work and that he felt so alone. We often got together for fun. After our social outings, he would return to the drudgery of his class work, and then telephone me the following week with the same sad story from the week before. He graduated and made us all proud. That tenacity again.

Mark’s love for God and his faith in Jesus Christ was a huge part of his life. He truly walked the walk. I remember when he became involved in the Youth for Christ or Campus Crusade movement while attending the U of R. My parents were terrified that he would become an evangelist like Billy Graham because when he came home from school for a weekend, he would preach incessantly to them of his newfound faith .Of course they both were already Christian. After much discussion and debate, which was common in our family, everyone was allowed to maintain his or her individual beliefs. Mom and dad were so relieved! However, I don’t remember hearing either of them ever again utter the phrase, “Practice what you preach!”

Mark was never a “front man”. He didn’t care to be a star of the stage or the athletic field. He was a loyal supporter to the stars. Mark was a private soul with a dry sense of humor and an impish smile. He was the best “behind the scenes” professional that I ever had the privilege of knowing and working with. When one of us was singing or acting on stage, he would be the man in the background working the lights and/or the soundboard making the entire show come to life. He was a excellent photographer. He took my wedding pictures and did some of my professional shoots. The results were wonderful. He supported his church in Webster for years designing and creating their sound and lighting systems including everything that was needed for Debbie’s Living Christmas Tree. I was amazed at how he computerized everything, timed it perfectly and always seemed to know exactly what he was doing,. He made everything work in sync. When there was a problem, he worked at it until he had a solution. Tenacity.

Truly my brother was a whiz with any sort of electrical, video, photographic or sound equipment. He made the time to transform much of our family history to digital sound and pictures. He had every gadget needed to make and edit videos, to clean up cassettes and turn them into CD’s, to take old slides and photographs, scan them and put them onto DVD’s for the rest of us to have and to enjoy for many years to come. He did a professional DVD of his father’s 80th birthday, which included 8mm film clips, videos, old black and white photos as well as recited and written letters to our dad from all of the family. He set it all to music appropriate to the theme of the clip. Where he found the hours to do all of this while working and raising a family, I do not know, but I appreciated it then and I appreciate it today. At the time of his death, Mark was working on an instructional DVD for his brother Pete’s ADHD business. I always felt he would have been a successful college professor. We talked about it on occasion.

Mark decided to move his family from Phoenix to Chapin a few years ago so that he could be closer to his dying father and his siblings. This was yet another gesture of love and support on his part. I spent a Memorial Day weekend with him while he was living with his dog Mahler in a one-bedroom apartment here in SC, working at Intel, trying to buy a house while selling another, and patiently awaiting the arrival of Deb and his kids from Arizona. I called and told him I wanted to drive from Atlanta to Columbia for a visit, and he asked me, “Why?” I replied, “So we can spend some time together and get reacquainted.” He said, “OK”, but I got the feeling that he felt it wasn’t necessary; that he didn’t deserve my time. I came anyway, and we had a blast. We went out to eat, watched DVD’s on his laptop, went swimming at the apartment pool, looked at real estate and just talked. I remember feeling like I knew my brother again after that weekend.

When our father passed away in April last year, Mark devoted hours, once again, to digitalizing photographs, taping music and being an integral and vital part of Dad’s memorial celebration which was much like the one we are having today.

Like everyone here, I do and will continue to love, remember and miss my brother Mark. His death was painfully tragic and untimely. None of us was ready to let him go, but I do believe that he is in a better place and that he made the most of the 50 years that God allowed him to live on this earth. I know that I am grateful to have had him with me. If Mark was with us in the flesh right now, I believe that he would look around in amazement and say, “Wow! All of these people here today are here to honor me. I must have made a difference. I really was enough! I did fit in.” And do you know what? He would be right. Mark was always fine just the way that he was.