Michael Joseph Elder

Michael Elder—musician, gamer, realist, and irreplaceable son, brother, father, and friend—passed away on March 4, leaving behind a Mike-shaped hole in a world that is way less interesting without him. Born December 14, 1979, Michael was the oldest child of James Elder III and Terry Siegal, big brother to Katie, Rob, Bryan, Nick, Chelsea, and Marcy, and loving dad to Sabrina, Seth, and Allison.

Mike did not waste time pretending to be anyone else—he was unapologetically authentic, honest, fiercely creative, and somehow gentle and kind through all of it. With a mind constantly in motion, he was a gifted musician and singer who dove into blues and jazz like his life depended on it. Many remember him best behind his guitar or belting vocal solos, whether at home, on stage, or behind a gas station counter with his shoes off—because why not? As his close friend Corey recalls fondly, “We used to go out and sing karaoke together so often that the DJ knew us. If we didn’t pick a song right away, he’d choose one for us—calling it ‘Scaryoke,’ because we’d have no idea what song we’d have to sing.”

Those closest to Mike knew he had a profound love of improv in every aspect of life—be it the improv of a guitar or vocal solo, the unpredictable journeys he embarked on in Dungeons and Dragons every Sunday with his close friends, or the simple improv of a conversation. Mike refused boring small talk and instead of standard greetings, he’d always come up with something unexpected and witty: a joke, an obscure reference, or something completely nonsensical just to shake up the could-be simulation. This resilient playfulness, up against the existential absurdity of life, is exactly why people loved him and will miss him so deeply.

Mike’s humor was sharp, dry, and quietly clever, usually flying just above people’s heads— hilarious to anyone paying attention, overlooked by those who were not. His playful resilience was quiet but powerful; even during life’s hardest chapters, navigating uncertainties and challenges few could understand, he maintained his warmth and sincerity no matter what. Mike sought deeper truths in physics and cosmology, explored meditation and spiritual wisdom through gurus like Ram Dass, and sought transcendence through life’s profound experiences.

Mike’s eccentricities extended into every corner of his life. He surrounded himself with eclectic collections—dragons, dice, miniatures. His insatiable curiosity made him a devoted explorer of technology, AI, and virtual reality. He dreamed of a future straight out of Ready Player One. Whether he was playing Arkham Horror or Seven Days to Die, unearthing hidden gems in Steam Humble Bundles, diving into AI breakthroughs, listening to Harry Mack’s insane freestyling, or jamming to hours-long blues backing tracks and Postmodern Jukebox covers, Mike wanted all of us to come on the journey with him (whether we asked to or not!)

Mike, life is going to be weird without you, but we promise to keep improvising, creating, and laughing our way through it. Save us a seat on the other side—preferably somewhere we can bring our guitars and be barefoot.

Mike leaves behind a beautiful legacy—through his children, his music, his laughter, and his gentle reminders to approach life with improv, rhythm, and melody.

A celebration of Mike’s life will be held at during visitation at Manns Funeral Home, starting at 11:30am on March 15th. Family and friends are invited to share stories, laughter, and memories.

A Memorial Gathering for Michael will be held Saturday, March 15th from 10:00 AM - 1:00 PM, with a Celebration of Mike's Life at 11:30 where family and friends are invited to share stories, laughter and memories.