John Przybyla passed away May 12, 2020 age 75.

Beloved husband of Mary.

Loving father of Heidi (Jeff Trabb), Colleen, Rebecca (Terry Magnuski) and Nicholas.

Proud grandfather of Phoebe and Dylan Trabb, Chloe and Daisy Magnuski and Lainey Przybyla.

Dear brother of Sandra Rondina and brother-in-law of Judi, Mike and Dick Klarer and Paul Rondina.

John was preceded in death by his parents, Marie and Chester Przybyla, and sister, Linda Bell.

John was an avid science fiction collector and super dad!

In lieu of flowers, contributions welcome to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. https://www.aspca.org/

Link to slide show: Slide Show

(Given the pandemic and for the safety of family and guests, we will be observing social distancing and using masks.

Temperatures will be checked at the door and the room will be disinfected in between groups of ten.

Adults only, please.

If you would prefer to pay respects to dad *during * the visitation over Facetime or Zoom we would also love it.  Please contact us and we will happily facilitate.

Our entire family was tested as COVID negative last week. Dad tested twice as negative.)

A few words about dad:

The mark of a truly great father is when all his kids think *they* were the favorite.

John Przybyla was the light in our hearts, the most loving, gentle, humble, witty father anyone could ask for.

He put 4 kids through college with a lifetime of back-breaking work as a mover at Corrigan Moving Systems. His grit, intellect and decency was apparent to all who knew him: A close friend and coworker describes him as "an original thinker who worked like a locomotive."

Above all, he was a devoted father and husband.

Year after year, he threw us around our family pool and rowed us out to the middle of Lake Huron in a blow up boat. At least 10 years in a row, he excitedly awoke us at the crack of dawn to drive from Detroit to Disney. He served his country in the Army and the city of Detroit Police force. He has among the largest collections of science fiction books, a source of great pride for him.

He delighted in his five grandchildren and amusing them, recently singing karaoke from a pink plastic toy microphone. He kept a stash of frayed "brag" photos in his wallet, accosting random cashiers with stories about his kids.
He regularly sent chicken scratch notes, jokes and newspaper clippings to remind us he wanted more time with us. In our youth, after a long day's work, he'd get down on all fours and let us ride around on his back. He chased us around pretending to be the undead, clawing at us while playing his original game "zombie." After asking "want a ride?" he would grab our faces and toss them around while chuckling and saying "face ride face ride!!" He put on all the goofy hats and silly animal portrait shirts that cracked us up at the sight of this big, burly, tough guy in them. He waved magic over objects to make them disappear, feigning to be the "great and powerful Swami." He often robo-dialed us, leaving quippy messages about nothing in particular but always intended to amuse.
In retirement, he fed chubby pet squirrels from a plastic jug from our cement porch, usually with a cup of Lipton in the other hand. This happened even in winter, often involving a fur flapped Siberian hat and shorts. Dad had a soft spot for animals, and on occasion, even brought home sickly strays he found on the job.
He could, at length, regale our friends and family with amusing stories about his days on the beat as a Detroit cop or about the jokes and humorous moments he and his work buddies shared. While dad chose to, as he says, "sweat for a living," he spent much of his free time immersed in either sci fi or history books and movies, often about WWII.

Part of his love of science fiction was his obsession with space and intergalactic travel.

Once, he informed us he'd signed up to be on the first volunteer citizen list to colonize Mars. Dad claimed there was a website where he signed up. Half of us think it's true, half of us don't. I guess we'll never know. What comforted us in his final breath, is the thought of our dad, with a huge grin on his face, released from his stiff, aged, human body, rocketing up to the sky, to live out his space exploration fantasy. Hours after he left us, the sky illuminated with a rare sighting of a brilliant Mars shining brightly above us as his grandchildren screamed in delight: "Grandpa! Grandpa!"

We love you so deeply dad, we will never forget you, we'll never be the same without you. We are who we are because of your love and your soul. And we will always strive to live by your mantra, "there's very few situations in life you can't laugh your way through."