Gary Joseph Hrabonz

Not All Heroes Wear Capes
Gary Hrabonz, someone who never was afraid of anything, gave respect and earned respect. Retired Michigan State Trp. Hrabonz, passed away June 10, 2024, at Lieutenant Colonel Charles S. Kettles VA Medical Center in Ann Arbor, Michigan, following a cancer diagnosis. He was 77. He handled the news of his terminal illness just like he handled everything – straight on.
Born to the late Joseph and Jessie Hrabonz of Fraser, Michigan, he is the older brother to Elaine (Hrabonz) Hewitt, brother-in-law to Tim, and uncle to Joe Hewitt and Kate Hewitt. He is also survived by loving cousins and his beloved Labrador retrievers, Tank and Sadie. His cousin and confidant, Michael Hrabonz, preceded him in death three months earlier. Below is his story written by his sister.
My brother is a hero. He's been gone a week, but it seems like forever since I heard him telling a story about something. It could have been about a traffic stop, a drug bust, his Danner boots from Cabela's or a good-looking brunette. He was opinionated, exacting, prone to pranks, quick-tempered, and had a Clark Gable smile that charmed just about anyone. A fellow Trooper said, "Gary set a high standard for himself and expected the same from other police officers. Not everyone can rise to those expectations – but he was a guy who would step up and carry more than his share." Kevin, another life-long Trooper friend, told me that Gary said, "Loyalty is the most important thing that you can give another man who is honest. He was very clear that it was crucial to determine a man's honesty before loyalty was given. In fact, he was pretty adamant that loyalty wasn't blind." He lived those words whether he was wearing his Marine Corps or his Michigan State Police uniform. It was Semper Fi all the way.
The particulars of his life are important. Born at Holy Cross hospital in Detroit, he was happiest outside, hunting or fishing with our dad, or walking in the woods with his dog, Queenie. Always in motion, it was hard for him to sit still. He was either getting into something with his buddy or torturing our mother and grandmother with pranks. He would inflate balloons, tape them to the inside of our kitchen cupboards, and wait for someone to come by and close them, screaming when they popped. He would painstakingly pry open those green glass bottles of 7 UP that were so popular years ago, empty them, fill them with water, and then carefully replace the caps without looking like they'd been opened. So on a hot day when I needed a cold drink to quench my thirst, I reached into the white fridge for a bottle, flipped the cap, and tilted my head to get ready for that big swig of cold pop only to get a rush of – water! I suckered for that every time.
He graduated from Troy High School where he was a member of the football team and captain of the dating and romance squad. Some things never change because over 60 years later he would tell Zarita and Janae, his aides at the hospital, that they were really cute. Most of the time when I visited, he was at the end of the hall, surrounded by staff, coffee in one hand, his keys in the other, fully dressed, wearing his uniform of blue sweatshirt and jeans tucked into his laced boots. He refused to wear the hospital scrubs. Gary was leaving. He had things to do.
He attended University of Detroit and made the football team, but when the university dropped its football program, he decided to join the Marines. He served in Vietnam where he was awarded a Purple Heart and later recounted as he was lying on the battlefield, he reached down to touch his legs because he couldn't feel them, praying that if he "got outta this" he'd never ask God for anything, He made good on that promise. Following months of recuperation after surgery, he was sent back to 'Nam only to be shipped stateside after his legs gave out. A long stint at Great Lakes Naval Hospital saw him back on his feet and on his way home.
Gary decided to stay in uniform, only this time he joined the ranks of the Michigan State Police. He had to drop out of recruit school because of his war injuries, underwent another surgery, and returned to recruit school. He joined MSP in June of 1970, and was a member of the 77th recruit graduating class where he earned a certificate for outstanding marksmanship. During his career with MSP, he served at Blissfield, Bridgeport, Clinton, Newberry, and SUI, retiring in April 1993. He also earned a Bravery award during his stint with MSP.
Post retirement he bought property in the Upper Peninsula and became a strawberry farmer. Gary's Berries were a hit. He ran for sheriff in his county and traveled throughout the U.S. elk hunting in Montana, pheasant hunting in the Dakotas and bear and grouse hunting in western upper Michigan. He never stopped moving. As a State Trooper, he loved checking the back roads of the UP in his patrol car, and he probably had a fishing rod in the back seat, just in case.
After he sold his property in Engadine, he bought a 5th wheel and traveled, pulling up to his cousin Judy and Bob's place in Cheboygan, only to leave in a whirlwind after two days. He always visited someone, even showing up at midnight. While some sailors might have a girl in every port, Gary had friends in every city. He drove around in his final years visiting them. That 5th wheel was parked for years at the homes of either Scott and Jeanie Thompson, or at Alan and Kristi Saunders. Both places provided the space, the security and the peace he needed.
Traveling with him and always at his side were his dogs. We all know and love the fact that most of his dogs were named Sadie or Sarah and Trooper or Tank. Without saying a word, they were a salve that managed to ease the burn of those Vietnam memories.
A lot of people loved him. A lot didn't understand him. Some felt the sting of his words and others winced when he shook their hand. How anybody could walk away from his handshake without broken bones is a miracle. But when he smiled, the world was a little brighter.
In the end, friends and family circled Gary, protecting him. Cousin Valerie came from Florida, friends came from hours away, and yet more family quietly flanked his bedside for a last goodbye. But one of the most heartwarming and gut-wrenching moments was when his life-long friend and State Trooper partner brought Sadie and Tank to the hospital to say goodbye. As they walked quietly toward him, Don lifted Sadie onto the bed and Gary smiled weakly. Goodbyes are important. Gary had worried about them for weeks and finally, for a few moments they were together.
None of this would have happened except for another hero named Mark who owns Country Kennels. Gary managed to check himself into the hospital only to leave in order to find a place to kennel the dogs. Mark said the miracle is how Gary managed to even drive, but his determination to get those dogs to safety took precedence - over his own life. Mark stayed on the phone with Gary, becoming a human GPS to guide him back to the VA. That fateful night forged a friendship no one could have imagined.
This story can't end without a mention of Gary's wardrobe. His closet was full of beautiful suits and dress shirts with French cuffs;he never wore them. As his niece Kate says, "Not all heroes wear capes. Some wear blue crew necks, jeans, and black boots from Cabela's." At ease, Trooper Hrabonz. We'll never forget you.
Funeral Mass July 9, 2024, 11 a.m./ gathering and eulogy starting at 10:30 a.m. at St. Joseph Catholic Church 715 N. Lapeer Road, Lake Orion, MI 48362. Military Honors immediately after Mass followed by a luncheon at Boulder Pointe Golf Club
1 Champion Drive, Oxford, MI 48371.