IN MEMORIAM: Michael Murin, 61;
Gentle Soul Battled Mental Illness
ONEONTA – Michael F. Murin passed away Tuesday, March 17, 2020.
He was born in 1958, the son of Mary Ellen Murin and the late, George Murin, of Franciscan Heights in Rensselaer, formerly of West Oneonta.
Michael enjoyed his music and writing. Many will remember him for feeding the squirrels in Huntington and Wilber Parks. Although he battled mental illness his whole adult life, those who took the time to get to know him, will remember him as a kind and gentle soul.
Michael was a resident of the Rehabilitation Support Services Elm Street residence in Oneonta for over 20 years. His family would like to extend their gratitude and appreciation to the staff there for the care and kindness Michael received over the years. They were like a second family to him.
In addition to his mother, survivors include his siblings, Peter (Robin) of Brooklyn, Patty Murin-Shira of Troy, Mont., Johnny of Schenevus, Mary L. of West Sand Lake, Joseph of Brooklyn, Barbara of Averill Park, Maureen (John) Giannone of Sand Lake, and Andrew (Sara) of Brooklyn; his niece, Elizabeth Murin, and nephews, John and Ian Giannone.
A memorial mass will be celebrated at a later date.
Expressions of sympathy may be sent to, www.hellerskinnerfh.com
Arrangements are entrusted with Heller & Skinner Funeral Home, 155 Main St., Worcester, NY.
I was the Program Coordinator at the Elm St Residence where mike lived & he was an unforgettable character. Mike was a knowledgeable sports fan & a pretty good basketball player-we enjoyed many games of HORSE in the back driveway. Mike was often annoyed with me when I tried to get him to keep his room clean but overall we got along well. Watching Mike call the squirrels in the park & watching them come running from every direction was amazing. I occasionally saw Mike around town after leaving RSS & we always stopped & chatted. The world was a better place with Mike in it.
Condolence to the Murin family from your old neighborhood on Sperry Hollow Rd❤️🙏
I used to live right next to Huntington Park and I remember Michael with a smile.
Sorry for your loss
I lived on Elm street from 94-97 and was always amazed at how the squirrels would come from every direction when he called to them . Yes a kind and gentle man.
I am sorry for your loss, I am ashamed to admit I did not get to know Mike well, but I always marveled at the way the squirrels loved him and long ago wrote this poem which I should have given him, but now share for his family and those who knew him.
A Place to Remember
A young man with long hair past his shoulders and a bread down his chest strolled out of the grocery store.
He carried two gallons of mile and a large bag of peanuts.
He had not time for talking, he was on a mission for God,
he spoke to no one, only nodded his head.
He headed across the street, though the gates of the park, past the children playing ball and the old men on the bench.
He came to a halt at the bottom of the hill, and there amongst the pines he stood and let out a small chatter…
the squirrels began to scamper down the trees, across the grass and unbelieving to my eyes they gathered at this feet.
He scattered the peanuts all over and stood with a melancholy expression on his face…
the squirrels regarded him with a loving trust and once again his parents words came to him…
” All creatures great and small, the good Lord made them all.
A single tear streamed down his cheek and he stood with his hands raised to the Heavens.
Slowly a smile crossed his lips as he looked down to see a squirrel curling itself around his legs.
As he turned to leave the park, a stranger came up to him and asked whey do you feed them? surely they can fend for themselves!
He simply replied I have my reasons and walked aways.
by Katey Perry-Jager
Today, as my partner and I walked down our street (Elm St) with our dog, I asked, “Is this the house that man lives in? Ya know, the one who feeds the squirrels?” He said, “No, it’s the one over there”. We didn’t know his name but he was part of our existence. I would walk past him sometimes hoping he would catch my eye so that I might reply back with a kind nod. I wondered about him. Who was he and did he have family. I came home from our walk, sat down to dinner, and opened the newspaper. I saw his notice In Memoriam. Strange that we spoke of him today. I felt upset. But, I learned his name was Michael and that he enjoyed music and indeed, had a very large family. That put a smile on my face. My deepest sympathies to his loved ones. I will think of him when I walk my dog in the evening and we see a squirrel hop on by. Rest in Peace, Michael.
I went to HS with Mike and remember him fondly. I’ve thought of him recently and set out to learn what he was up to. Deeply saddened by what I learned. Does anyone know where he rests so I may pay respects.