Francis Curran

Our dad, Francis “Frank” Curran, 70, passed away on Friday, December 13, 2024 at his home in Winter Springs, Florida. Frank died peacefully in his sleep the way he wanted to – in his recliner, wearing a Phillies shirt and watching reruns of shows from the 70s. For years he threatened that he was going to leave, first he was going to be gone by 50, then it changed to 55, and then 60, and with each birthday the age on his threat would increase. The final threat he told us was that he would never make it to 70, and although he was not often wrong, we are very happy to be able to call him out and tell him he was wrong about this one!

Born February 22, 1954 in Philadelphia, PA, Frank was the 2nd oldest of 4 children, but the only son of Marie Jacoby Curran and Francis A. Curran. He is survived by his sisters – Marie, Denise and Maryanne. Our dad grew up like the typical Irish-Catholic Philadelphian – serving as an Altar Boy, selling Soft Pretzels, and loving Philly Sports teams (even through all of the “rebuilding” seasons as he would tell us!).

On January 10, 1981, he married Margaret Shupe, and together they had 4 children (us!) – Alana, Alyssa, Frankie, and Laura. While our dad was a man of few words (except in the mornings when he was trying to get us all out of the house and to school – there were a lot of words then!!) we always knew that he was there, and that he loved us and supported us. Whether it was having a catch in the backyard, taking us out deep in the ocean to jump over the waves, tolerating the cats that we would sneak into the house (although we found out later that he did in fact like the cats when he started signing their names on cards and shooting laser pointers around the house for them to chase), or taking us out on the water to fish, crab and kayak, he was there in the ways that were important.

Our dad spent his working years as an Auto Mechanic, and very proudly attained the level of Master Mechanic (he also very proudly would show-off and gross us out with his gnarled fingers from his years of working). He was the go-to person for all things car-related, not just for our family, but also for many of our neighbors throughout the years. While he was always willing to help our neighbors with their cars, he did make us follow certain rules (no Volvos, Volkswagons or Hyundais; always clean your wiper blades before saying they need to be changed, and never ever take your car to another mechanic without his permission first) in order to retain his services, which we did all oblige to in order to keep the peace and keep the cars running! 

He officially retired from (paid!) mechanic work in 2011, and was able to find his peace and solace on the water fishing (at least 360 days a year was his goal!). He would regularly leave the house at 4am to head out to the water to his favorite fishing spots. He was a self-proclaimed professional fisherman so of course he knew all the best spots, best lures, best practices and habits of the fish, but ironically he didn’t like eating fish so it was always catch and release (even though he had a house full of seafood lovers at home!). He not only liked the calm and quiet (he grew up with 3 sisters and had 3 daughters) he found out on the water, but also the comradery he found with so many like-minded self-proclaimed professional fishermen. This was his peace, his calm and probably the only reason he was able to come home with any sanity and deal with our crazy family including his 3 grandkids – Sammi, Blake and Cody.

When he wasn’t out on the water, or wasn’t watching (yelling at) the Phillies or Eagles, or being drug around to different places by our mom, he was spending time with his grandkids. The kids always wanted to be around their Pop-Pop and to see what he was doing (but we did know it was time to leave once he would raise the volume on his TV to drown out the noise!). Some of their favorite times were when he would sit on the ground and play card games and board games with them (even if we were all traumatized by being forced into these epically long games) for hours, or take them out during school holiday breaks on his boat to fish, or when he would have them help him with a project in his garage (like tracing Cody to make a Yeti cutout, aka Cody-Squatch). Like with us, he may not have said many words, but he showed up for them in the ways that were important and in the ways that they will always cherish and remember.

Our dad lived the life he wanted, surrounded by the people he loved and who loved him. He may no longer be here to question us anymore every time we ask to borrow a tool, but the memories, wisdoms, life-lessons and sense of quiet calm will always remain. In Lieu of flowers, we ask that you submit a donation to your favorite charity in our dad’s name, and the next time you are out fishing, if you would please release your first catch in honor of our dad (but be sure to take a picture of it, or the catch doesn’t count).

To share your memories of Francis or to leave a special message for his family online please sign the guestbook below.