Pat Janssen

Pat Janssen was a charismatic Kalamazoo native whose humor, generosity, and unwavering devotion shaped every chapter of his life. He created a world where family came first, stories were treasured, and ordinary days became cherished memories. A loving husband of 64 years, proud father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and legendary host, Pat leaves behind a legacy of joy, loyalty, and the kind of steady presence that made everyone feel at home.

The journey began when Pat was born on July 24, 1938. His father, Francis Janssen, had come to Kalamazoo in search of better opportunities, taking a job at a paper mill, while his mother, Dorothy, remained home to raise their ever-expanding family. Their home sat across from La Crone Park, which became the backdrop for Pat’s earliest adventures. He spent countless hours there with his siblings and friends. Pat’s energy and charisma were infectious, whether he was playing ball or getting into mischief, Pat found the fun in everything. When it came to school, he gave the nuns a run for their money, preferring the school of hard knocks.

His siblings were a strong influence on him and his sometimes-literal way of seeing the world. One afternoon, he and his older brother, Larry, were tasked with taking down the chicken coop. As Pat was throwing lumber to Larry, a piece struck Larry on the head. He began running around and flailing his arms. Earlier, Pat had seen chickens run around after their heads had been cut off, so he froze for a moment before running into the house and telling his mother, “I just killed Larry! I just killed Larry!” The moment became family legend, a reminder of Pat’s innocence and sincerity, even as a child.

Family was the center of everything throughout his life. Family gatherings in Dowagiac were a staple of his childhood, filled with numerous cousins, delicious food, endless laughter, and memories that remained for his lifetime. He also loved visiting Aunt Mary’s farm in Wisconsin, where he enjoyed spending time with family.

As a boy, Pat developed a fascination with big trucks and race cars. In 1957, he joined the United States Army and was later stationed in France. In true Pat Janssen fashion, those two passions came together during one exciting and memorable Army adventure.

Shortly after being honorably discharged, the story of Pat and Sue began, at Sutherland Paper Co. where they worked nights, Pat in the board mill and Sue as summer help. Unbeknownst to Pat, Sue was engaged at the time, but she did not wear her ring at work for safety reasons. Sue wasn’t the only one who had her eye on Pat. An older woman at the mill was equally interested in him. Wanting to save Pat from “the cougar,” Sue and a friend decided she should flirt with him. Before long, Sue realized she genuinely liked him—especially his ever-present, killer smile. The older woman’s response was to tell Pat that Sue was already taken.

Things cooled quickly, and Sue couldn’t understand why. Determined to find out, she asked Pat if he would like to get coffee after work. He turned her down. When she asked why, Pat, being Pat, replied, “If you see a car on the lot that you really want, but someone else already put a down payment on it, you move on.” Thankfully, he left the door open by adding, “If you change your mind, call me”.

The next day, she did just that. Pat’s mother took the message. When Pat woke up and learned Sue had called, he was thrilled. Their first date was a Tigers game, and from that moment forward, they were simply Pat and Sue from Kalamazoo—life partners for the next 64 years. Pat often told people that the first time he saw Sue, he thought to himself, “That is the gal I am going to marry.” They became engaged that Christmas Eve and were married on August 12, 1961.

Working was central to Pat’s identity. He was a hardworking, devoted provider who would do anything to help his family. As his family grew, he knew it was time for a career change. In 1971, he followed his dream of becoming a truck driver. He spent the next 27 years living that dream, retiring from USF Holland in 1998.

Family remained important, even while he was working. When he would drive past his niece’s school, he would give the semi’s horn a quick blast, and wave. Then later when she told him that her classmates didn’t believe he was her uncle, Pat solved the problem by pulling the semi right up to the playground, waving enthusiastically, and calling her by name.

Pat’s charisma shined in many ways. He would dance like Elvis, sing like Elvis, and—much to everyone’s delight—become Elvis whenever the opportunity presented itself. Naturally, he always added his own unique moves. He could also be competitive, sometimes to hilarious extremes. Once, while riding bikes with his brother, he became so determined to keep his front tire ahead that he stared only at the wheels and rode straight into a parked car. It became one of the many stories Pat’s family loved to tell for years.

His style was uniquely his own. Suspenders with a belt were his signature. Hats were his joy, and color coordination was his personal art form. If he wore green, everything was green. If he wore yellow, everything was yellow. Matching patterns didn’t matter. And if he asked someone to “grab me a hat,” it wasn’t nearly as simple as it sounded, thanks to his enormous collection.

Like his father, sports remained a lifelong passion. He followed teams, players, and knew statistics with near-encyclopedic knowledge. He could tell you who was leading, who was slumping, and who needed to be traded. Pat also had an incredible head for numbers. He kept a running tally of every paycheck he ever earned, understanding the value of hard work from a young age.

He loved the K-Wings, Detroit Lions, Detroit Tigers, NASCAR racing, and bowling. He often reminded people that the Lions’ last championship came in 1957 and would quote Bobby Layne’s famous “curse,” saying, “The Lions won’t win anything for 50 years.” Still, every season he hoped, “Maybe this year will be the year.”

Camping became one of the great traditions of Pat’s adult life. He and Sue raised a family that camped throughout Michigan, across the country, and into Canada. As grandchildren arrived, camping became one of their greatest gifts to them. The grandkids fondly remember rainbow campfire sticks, fishing with Grandpa, and vacations that became treasured childhood memories.

He was the family’s steady presence—the constant. Particularly with his grandchildren, at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, there were always sweets, and the promise of wonderful memories. Grandpa made everything fun. He had a silly giggle, sang goofy songs, and loved getting a rise out of Grandma, to their delight. Even a simple car ride became an adventure. He told them the same stories over and over, yet somehow, they never grew old. They also knew Grandma and Grandpa would be there for every game, concert, ceremony, birthday, and milestone.

Pat loved his children deeply, and they will miss him dearly. When they think of him, they remember his antics, his generosity, his humor, and yes, even his remarkable ability to be a pain in the neck.

Pat was known for addressing people with a firm, “Hey, Mister,” accompanied by a snap of his fingers, when needed, as well as referring to others as a “mean motor scooter and a bad go-getter.”

Pat was the perfect host. His and Sue’s summer fish fries became legendary, featuring fish they had caught together throughout the season. He was always walking around asking, “Can I get you anything?” Sitting still simply wasn’t in his nature. He loved listening to the news and Paul Harvey on the radio, attending church—as long as it ended on time—enjoying sweets, especially Sanders salted caramels, and frequenting the local watering holes.

Sue will miss his companionship. Together they fished, camped, bowled, and danced. Whenever a slow song came on, Pat would always take his bride to the dance floor and hold her in his arms. Every morning began the same way: “Hey, hey, hey, it’s a brand-new day.” He was always up to something, known by people all over town, and always, unmistakably, Pat.

Pat had a notoriously weak stomach. He couldn’t stand foul odors. Whenever the family heard him gagging, they knew one of two things had happened: either a pet had made a mess or someone had gotten sick. They also knew Pat wasn’t going to be the one cleaning it up.

For someone with such a sensitive stomach, he certainly made some interesting meal choices when cooking for the kids while Sue was at work.

Pat lived a life filled with humor, devotion, mischief, generosity, and love. He knew everyone. He helped everyone. He made memories out of moments and stories out of ordinary days. His legacy lives on not only in the stories told today, but in the laughter he inspired, the family he built, and the love he gave so freely throughout 64 years of marriage and a lifetime of being exactly who he was.

His life was full. His impact was enormous. His memory will live on joyfully, gratefully, and forever.

Patrick “Pat” Janssen, age 87, of Kalamazoo, passed away on July 15, 2026. He was born on July 24, 1938, in Kalamazoo to Francis and Dorothy (Walsh) Janssen. He was preceded in death by his parents and his brothers, Robert (Survived by his wife Marie) and Larry (his late wife Bev).

He is survived by his siblings, Mary Ann (the late Jim) Vernia, Tim (Dianne), Kate (Fred) Mast, Barb (the late Bob) Vernia, Anne (the late Terry) Hopkins, and Michael (Mary); his beloved wife of 64 years, Sue; his children, Monte (Betty) Janssen, Mart (Myungja) Janssen, Roberta (Linn) Hacker, Jon (DeAnna) Janssen, and Matt (Dawn) Janssen; his grandchildren, Erin (Joe) Urka, Monica (Adam) Rowell, Lauren (Wyatt) Johnson, Randy Janssen, Jake (Elyza) Gabriel, Zach (Crimson) Janssen, Emily (Mathew) Stinnett, Tiffany (Chase) Wilkins, Antonio (Crystal) Dungey, Bryce (Holly) Janssen, Alaina Dungey, Ethan Janssen, and Allyson Janssen; his great-grandchildren, Emma, Aubree, Karson, Mikah, Conner, Elenore, Jude, Jackson, Connor, Maisie, and Hunter; along with numerous nieces, nephews, extended family members, and friends.

Please join us for a Life Story Visitation on Sunday July 26 from 6 – 8 pm at Betzler Life Story Funeral Homes, 6080 Stadium Drive, Kalamazoo (269) 375-2900 where food, stories and drinks can be shared. Mass will take place at St. Ambrose Catholic Church on Monday July 27 at 11 am with lunch following. Burial at Fort Custer National Cemetery on a later date.

Celebrate Pat’s life online by sharing your favorite stories and photos on his dedicated webpage at BetzlerLifeStory.com. Memorial contributions may be made to COPD Foundation or the American Cancer Society.