I knew of an emblematic lighthouse. It dauntlessly occupied 939 6th Street in Fortuna. Grandma Casey and Uncle Dave Casey were its keepers. They weathered storms and the waves that would crash beyond the confinements of their doors, but still their light shown through with a luminous glow. Their lamp brought family safely ashore and offered refuge within the harbor of their bay, and it is here the progeny of the Caseys and many more would come to gather, allegorical seafaring passersby. Grandma Casey passed some years ago but still the beacon remained resplendent. For the lighthouse had the other keeper, Uncle Dave, who would continue to offer a haven from the elements of the world. You see, a lighthouse doesn’t move around chasing ships into its port. It just stands there in a magnificently illuminating way so that archetypal ships don’t crash into the rocks below. Again, that lighthouse was 939 6th Street and its last caretaker was Uncle Dave. Everything changed this last week when the guardian who lived within met his maker — sailing away from his post for good.

Uncle Dave was born in Portland, Oregon but moved to Humboldt County with his family when he was young. He was an adamant part of the FFA all the way through high school, and had many awards and newspaper clippings that revealed his enthusiasm in this arena. Then there was baseball. You see, Uncle Dave was diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a baby. This gave him a movement disorder, a slight list to the left, with a hand and arm that remained rigid and closed. This did not stop him from playing the sport he loved, though. The other team would hit a ball to the outfield, and he would run and catch it with his right hand. Then he would shove his mitt between his legs, quickly slide his hand out from his glove, pull the ball from the mitt, and toss the ball to the infield to make the play. That is just the kind of person he was. He was the overcomer of obstacles who reticently embraced his passions.

Yes, Uncle Dave was a quiet man with a pleasantly calm smile; a tender and caring man with a gentle demeanor. He was efficaciously the epitome of thunderous silence in the most delightful way. He had a deep affection for reading, especially any Louis L’amour book that lay within reach. His last great devotion, however, was to his dog. Uncle Dave went on a journey to the animal rescue mission with his sister-in-law Pam, where he would liberate Bo and give him a warm, loving life with daily walks and campaigns about town. Those two had deep affections for one another, and Uncle Dave’s absence is undeniably noticed by Bo. Oh, and it would be imprudent to not mention how much of an affection he had for Pepper’s in Fortuna. He was there almost daily. Many of the staff knew him well. With that, we would like to say thank you all for being so attentive and kind to our uncle.

Uncle Dave Casey is survived by Danielle Rucker, Robyn Flynn, Caleb Casey, Toby Casey, David Chastain, Jim Chastain, Dennis Casey and Donald Casey. At length, not only has the world lost a kind man and proverbial caretaker, but the candle within the lighthouse has now been extinguished, too. For he was the keeper of the light and now ’tis truly the profound end of an era.

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The obituary above was submitted by Robyn Flynn. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here. Email news@lostcoastoutpost.com.