Chester O. Margelofsky

Chet and June were neighbors to my parents on Riverview Heights. They were truly the kindest people we had known. Chet was the man to call fir any advice or help needed, and he never failed at being neighborly. They will both be missed. Susan Anderson

My deepest sympathy to the family. I had the pleasure to work with Chet in my 1st job at Mayville Metal. He taught me many things and was a great friend.

Great memories made with Chet and June and my folks....RIP....happy reunion in heaven🥰

My sincere condolences to Chester's family. Ken you could not have expressed more eloquently who Chester was! Whenever I came to the Legion in Mayville I looked forward to seeing him. I had remarked to my sister not too long ago that it had been some time since he was there. I know he will be missed by many people, but I have no doubt he is with the Saints triumphant and our loving God in heaven. Mary Hackbarth Harper, long ago Mayville resident and long time Mayville Legion Auxiliary member

I am Chester’s son-in-law Ken. I am married to his eldest daughter Linda, the love of my life. And while I have known Chet for over 30 years, I found it more difficult than I would have ever thought to find the right words to express my feelings and memories of the man.

As the son-in-law there is always a certain tension. Linda and I have three girls and I always thought there would never be anyone good enough for them. But there is, and we welcome them into the family, as I was welcomed into Chet’s. Chet and I developed our own unique relationship over the years but we both enjoyed being a wise cracker or smart ass. Though I’m pretty sure Chet enjoyed it more than me.

Chet never missed an opportunity to slip in a comment. They were quick and clever, and I will miss them.

Chet liked giving me a hard time about how much I talk. He had reason, and you’ll understand this better after you read this long condolence. I write as I speak. But again, he did it in that good fun wisecracking way that was so much a part of who he was.

He’d wisecrack to reduce tense situations or misunderstandings, to remind you it’s not as bad as you think, remind you that you did something stupid and you know it, or just to get a little attention and make others laugh. But he also did it because it was fun.

He was one of the most affable, charming, good-natured, kind, likeable, outgoing, and gracious people I have ever met. To say he was sociable is to not know the man. Being sociable was in his DNA. He did it effortlessly. Chester was more than that. He truly loved being with and around people, and I can’t imagine any person not being affected by his relaxed and genuine neighborly demeanor and words.

A big part of what made Chester so special was his simple and sincere view of life and how he lived it every day .

Chester believed in God, country, community, and family. He believed that good works make a difference, that hard work is rewarded, and that we all need only to do the best we can.

I know that many of these values were common in his generation and that growing up and living in a small-town close-knit community like Mayville, where many shared those same values, magnified their significance and their impact.

Chet never took any blessing or good luck for granted. He gave of himself in part because of his sense of duty but more importantly he believed it made a difference. A difference he believed should be passed on to future generations. He walked the walked, and anyone that knew him was better for it.

I have two stories I’d like to share that I think provide some insight into the Chester that I knew and came to love as a bonus dad.

When Linda and I bought our first home, Chet and June, being in their youthful 70’s, helped with the move. After the furniture had been delivered to each part of the house, Chet agreed to help me set up the living room. It was supposed to be a simple and easy process as I had created a graph paper layout of the room and the location of each piece designated for the living room.

I was mostly right. At least about the process I had planned out with great detail. But there was a hiccup. Within seconds of my feeling a pat on the back was appropriate, Linda came into the room, paused for a just a brief moment, and I mean very brief, moment, and said, “I don’t like it there, it should go over there and this over there.”

I turned and calmly said, perhaps with a little annoyance, “No, they go here. I measured everything and lay it out on graph paper.”, at which point I held up my master graph paper plan, believing it was settled.

I am pretty sure what Linda was going to say next, but Chet saved me when he looked at me, shaking his head in what I assume was disbelief, and in a quiet voice just above a whisper said, “You know you’re going to move it, we both know. So why not just do it now?”

I didn’t look back at Linda, though I’m sure she was smiling.

After we moved the furniture pieces Chet came to me and said, “You wanna’ know the secret to a happy marriage?”

“This.” He held up his index finger, so I’d understand it was one, obviously very important, thing.

He looks me in the eyes as he slowly closes his and bows, “I’m sorry.”
He grinned, and I laughed. The humble bowing apology was funny.
Then he said quite matter of fact like, “Oh, it’s also very true.”

That was classic Chet. It wasn’t philosophy, just simple advice. Say you’re sorry when you are. When Chet had something that needed to be said, he was a man of few words. He taught me much, and I will miss that too.

Over the years I watched and learned from the example he and June set. And while I can’t see Chet thinking he had made many mistakes, I am positive that when he did, he owned them. I’m sure too that if he didn’t, when he should have, June would remind him. They each made the other better.

The other story is about the night Chet, and I stayed up late drinking brandy, which was a first, and he opened up to me about his experiences during the Korean War. Before that night he had said little if anything to me or, as best I could tell, anyone else in the family.
Chet was always a private man when it came to subjects of the heart. He had done his duty in Korea and had no reason to speak of it. We forget that the Korean War is referred to as “The Forgotten War.” No one knew this better than Chet.

Chet once told me that when he returned from Korea and came across an old friend who asked why he hadn’t seen him in a while and where he had been, Chet said, “Korea.” His friend with a confused look replied, “Where?”

Chet spoke little of his Korean War combat. He had done his duty and there was nothing to talk about. But on that night, he told me stories of duty, combat, death, and despair. But he also spoke of human kindness in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Acts of men, like himself, that believed in honorable actions.

He recalled with sadness and regret how he had seen his enemy try to surrender only to be shot down, in the back by their own. Chet said, “sometimes they made it, sometimes they didn’t. Even some that made it so we could pull them into our foxhole, didn’t make it. We did our best.” And he added, “The rest was up to God.”

That too was Chet. He was always humble, gave his personal best, spoke truth, and acted when action was required, believing these make a difference. He was right.

I learned much from my relationship with Chet. I learned honor still exists, that words and deeds matter, and family means everything.
Most importantly I learned that a single life that may go mostly unnoticed by the world, and perhaps even unappreciated close at home, can have profound consequences for the future, making the world a better place, not just for one individual or community, but for every other soul encountered, thus multiplying the affect, in some cases I would like to think, exponentially.

Chester was always a light that made the world a better place. He also made better all who knew him. For that I am most grateful.

Chester will be missed, but he will not be forgotten. His life should be a reminder that how we live makes a difference. His is a life that should be emulated and celebrated.

I will truly miss him and wish I had told him how much he meant to me. Not because he didn’t know, but rather because words matter. I find comfort in knowing that he is reunited in Heaven with his "Junnie", joy that I had the pleasure of knowing him, and thankful for all I learned from him.

He will be missed by all that knew him, and unknowingly by many others whose lives he touched.

So, take heart that while we may grieve here, Heaven surely rejoices his soul is, at last, home.

1 Timothy 6:18-19
Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.