Patrick Michael O’Neil, known to his friends as Pat (and to his eldest daughter as POprah), was born in Albany, NY on April 17, 1967. He passed away suddenly, and without warning, on April 17, 2026 while on a work trip in Denver, Colorado.

Pat grew up in Chatham, NY, where he attended and graduated from Chatham High School; going on to gain an Associate’s Degree from Hudson Valley Community College, he also later attained a Master’s in Business Administration from the University of Phoenix.

Pat had a long career spanning multiple decades in the building materials business, but in recent years had changed gears and was managing the local fleet for Dollar General.

Pat is survived by his wife of 37 years, and high school sweetheart, Tamie, 2 daughters (Michelle and Cassandra), 1 grandson (Brady Barnes), and his 2 adoring fur babies (Jasper and Reba). Pat was predeceased by his parents John O’Neil and Eleanor (Beach) O’Neil, older brother John (Jackie), and older sister Elizabeth (Beth) Kraft. Pat is also survived by his siblings: Arlene Gaylord (Paul), Alice Witherell, Susan Tuttle (Jeff), Christopher O’Neil (Jessica), and Joanne Myers (Jon); Pat also leaves behind many nieces and nephews.

To know Pat was to adore him. He had a quick wit, a quick smile, and a dark sense of humor that he passed down to his daughters. He was the type of person who saw people as humans- not the polished outside version they showed the world, but the real person underneath it all. Young, old, happy, struggling- he never talked down to anyone. He met people where they were, human to human. While he was never afraid to share an opinion or two, it never came from a place of judgment or cruelty, but rather from wanting people to think deeper, see another perspective, or simply laugh through the heaviness of life. And if things got too serious for too long, he could usually find a little dark comedy to lighten the mood.

Pat taught those around him a million things in life (including the infamous “if you walk into a fair fight, it means you weren’t prepared”). He fostered a borderline unhealthy love of music in his daughters- he and Michelle, in particular, were both famous for saying “no, you don’t understand” when someone said they loved music too, because to them music wasn’t just something you listened to, it was something you lived inside of. If there was one thing Pat was known for, it was music- wherever he was, there was always music nearby. People didn’t always know what kind of music they were going to get, and that was part of the magic. His passion for music was endless, and he was highly talented in multiple avenues of it. There are countless memories of jamming in bands, social nights, weekend band practices, and bar-scene live performances, where he always played and performed his best. He had a drive to consume music, to create music (though this drive waxed and waned over time, as it usually does with creative types), and to share music.

He never missed a chance to tell his family he loved them, and as far as they knew, he was proud of them. He was deeply loyal to his family and loved ones, and if there was one thing anyone could always count on, it was Pat’s love. He made sure the people around him knew that if things were not okay, it was okay to ask for help, and that even if life was messy or circumstances were far from perfect, there would always be a place to land that was softer than rock bottom. Even if he didn’t fully understand the situation, if someone needed help, he was there in whatever way was necessary and logical. He would be the first to help if anyone needed anything, and Pat left behind countless people who loved him deeply.

His interests were varied, and he was always diving into something new- usually somehow tech related. He experimented with photography, videography (with his very well-loved, trusty GoPro), smoking meat, baking, 3D printing, and he was always peeking into something else to try and learn. Every time someone saw him, it felt like he had picked up another niche hobby and somehow already become an expert in it- knowing all the settings, techniques, pieces, and details needed to dial everything in just right. He never did anything halfway; it was always the full shebang, often accompanied by incredible food.

Pat was also the master baker of the family, and made some of the best meals people can remember. Everyone knew that if they were having dinner at the O’Neil house, it was going to be good.

Pat and his wife, Tamie, were high school sweethearts, and where one was found, the other usually was too. They were married on June 4, 1988, and their relationship may not have always been sunshine and rainbows- no relationship ever is- but it was full of love. During their family-raising years, they went on vacations, moved many times, decorated and redecorated homes (including the infamous “Florida Room” in their house in North Carolina), and did their best to make sure their daughters were set up to thrive in adulthood, while also knowing it was okay for them to come home if they needed to- as children often do. In their empty-nesting, grandparent years, they hiked together, camped together, kayaked together, went on cruises, bowled- and they did it all with love.

A celebration of life will be held at the VFW in Fonda on June 6 from 1-4pm.

Please come and share your stories about how Pat impacted you, and your memories of this unforgettable man.