We Twitter
| Make us your home page
CAMERON -- Kerry Cahill began and ended her father's eulogy by quoting one of his favorite authors.
"Mark Twain once said, 'There are three types of people -- commonplace men, remarkable men and lunatics.' My dad was all three," the 27-year-old woman told the crowd of about 500 at St. Monica's Catholic Church.
Michael Cahill, she said, was not just a father to her, but many things to many people -- a husband, an uncle, an avid reader, a dancer, a smoker, a non-smoker, an amateur lobbyist, a lover of coffee and chocolate, a runner.
The 62-year-old father of three was the only civilian to die as a result of the Nov. 5 Fort Hood shootings, but his funeral was carried out with full military honors. Military officials arrested Maj. Nidal Malik as the sole suspect of in the shooting rampage, which left 12 others dead and 43 injured in the Soldier Readiness Center.
For the past seven years, that's where Cahill worked as a physician's assistant. He drove 60 miles each morning and evening to get to and from work because he loved it so much, his family said.
Since the shootings, hundreds have asked what they can do to help ease the family's grief, Kerry Cahill said.
"You can remember my dad -- talk to each other, tell stories, love each other and love your family," she said.
While a civilian at the time of his death, Michael Cahill joined the National Guard in 1966 and retired from service after 23 years. He was born in Spokane, Wash., and lived in the northeast until moving to Post, Texas, in 1992. There, he worked in a family health clinic.
In 1997, his passion for rural health led him to Dr. Sidney Richardson's practice in Cameron, where he headed a rural health clinic until January 2001. From there, Richardson said in an interview, he left to work at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Temple for a brief period before applying to work at Fort Hood.
Michael Cahill's daughter, Keely Vanacker, said caring for people in rural areas and soldiers were two of her father's life-long passions.
"He was always concerned with the individuals," she said more than a week ago. "Like with the health care debate, for him, it was more about what it's going to mean for the people. The soldiers, the people, that's what mattered to him."
The service was closed to the media; however, arrangements were made so they could hear it through a public address system placed on the porch of the church. A representative of the family spoke to the press following the Mass.
Clergymen, as well as former co-workers of Cahill, talked during the more than two-hour service.
Michael Clark told the crowd how he met him 27 years ago while they were at the University of Oklahoma. They served in the army together and were colleagues in the medical field as well.
"He was just the perfect fit for rural health, and from his service as rural health chair, he left a thumbprint on rural health care in Texas forever," he said. "He lived his life a hero, and he left us a hero. I will miss my friend."
Kerry Cahill spoke of the passion her father had for his work.
"He would always talk about the soldiers, not process," she said, adding that her father took time to learn where they were from and where they were going. "He knew how to listen and knew how to talk to people and knew how to hear them."
She ended with a quote, also from Mark Twain, to let others know her father lived his life well, without regret, without want.
"I have long ago lost my belief in immortality -- also my interest in it."