October 31, 1977 ~ February 3, 2019

Born in: Ogden , Utah
Resided in: Englewood, Colorado

Michael Andrew Andereck passed away on February 3, 2019. Michael was such a smart-ass that at least one friend questioned if this was a terrible joke. He was kind-hearted and loyal with a wicked sense of humor.  Halloween was his favorite holiday – and his birthday – he was born for haunted houses and costumes and scaring kids and neighbors alike. He enjoyed dumping cousins in the snow, not getting his picture taken, and practical jokes.  Every family Christmas tree must include real pine cones – why would we have a pine tree with no cones?! He was a backward-walking monk at the Renaissance Festival; an avid Trekkie; a reasonable cook but excellent salsa maker.  An talented photographer, he will live on in the countless photos he took and shared at any gift giving occasion.  A man who loved cats but had little tolerance for dogs.  Michael loved to read and encouraged reading in everyone around him.  He did amazing work in support of the Burning Through Pages charity.  He is survived by countless friends and family who loved him dearly and will miss him very much.

Memorial donations can be made to Burning Through Pages at www.burningthroughpages.org or Rocky Mountain Feline Rescue, https://www.rmfr-colorado.org/donate.  Please add a note indicating your donation is in memory of Michael.


Memorial Service: February 9, 2019 10:00 am

Horan & McConaty - SW Denver/Lakewood
3101 S. Wadsworth Blvd.
Lakewood, CO 80227

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Memories Timeline


  1. I’ve known Michael for a long time, longer than most of you. The first time I met him, he was wearing a baby-blue blanket sleeper with an elephant embroidered on the front. It was November 1977; he was about 3 days old.

    The last time I saw him was Christmas 2018 at our parents’ house. The last thing I asked of him was to please be present for family dinner. We looked at pictures which are now nearly four decades old and surprised each other with the things we remembered or recognized that the other didn’t.

    There are so many memories siblings gather over the years together, but now the gathering days are over. I wasn’t done yet.

  2. So sorry to hear about Michael. It was an honor to serve as his youth minister at Lakewood Church of Christ. Blessings to all during this difficult time.

  3. I knew Michael from high school and he was always so nice to me. He was a light for me when my days were dark. My heart is with his family and friends.

  4. I met Michael while working at CHI and we became friends very quickly. We discussed everything from Star Trek, to books, to photography, to music. Although we did not spend much time together outside of work, I always enjoyed his company. He was always passionate about the charities to which he volunteered his time and he was always very dedicated to anything he chose to do. I moved out of state last year, but was looking forward to seeing him again when I visited CO. Michael had a positive impact on many people and he will be greatly missed; I feel blessed to have had the opportunity know and work with him.

  5. I first met Michael at Casa Bonita. We were both there celebrating our birthdays. (Separated by only 21 hours I think we figured out one time.) The next day I was surprised to see him in bible class at my parent’s church. Apparently his family had just moved to town. That had began a thick as thieves friendship. Through the years we grew together, we watched the premiere of Star Trek The Next Generation at his house. Preceeded by a classic Trek Marathon (always a requisite to watch the predecessors), which prompted us to begin journaling using Captain’s Logs as our format. Michael even figured out a stardate formula for the jounals, so that when we traded them, we would know what happened when.

    There were a lot of firsts with Michael. First sci-fi convention (StarCon), first “real” haunted house, first network gaming, first student film, first time working at festival, first fellony stop by officers over mistaken identity. With our mutual friend Ted, we began teaching ourselves the way of the sword and fell in deep, deep love with the art. We played many a prank, from the one-up gift wrapping challenge to one another, to dressing in cloaks during a church youth lockin to initiate the new pastor’s son into the youth group during Blob. Michael was an amazingly deep poet. A good majority of our outings with Tina, Wendy, and Dianna were spent discussing philosphy, poetry, and theology. Michael was the fiercest of loyal friends. We began making chainmaille with Ted under the tutelage of Don, Todd and Dave (our youth mentors). I admit I wanted to be like Michael when he started slicking his hair back ala 1950’s style, I followed in suit, when he started wearing moccasins over jeans with a renaissance shirt, I did too, and though I was never able to get my hair as long and Fabio-esque as he was, I made the attempt, settling on a swooped partial mullet as the best I could manage. He was unshaken in his determination and drive to grow and change and do.

    Through Michael, I was introduced to fantastic people like Shannon, Scott, Michelle, and Dean. He surrounded himself with brilliance and talent, feeling at home amongst their ranks. From Captain Power, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Star Trek, Highlander, to Anne Rice, Shakespeare, and Michael Crichton. Movies, books and media had been a part of him, but as much as he loved his solo time, spent listening to James Horner, or John Williams, burning incense and reading, drawing, or writing, he truly enjoyed the fellowship of others. Game nights, scripting parties, camping trips, sleep overs, festivals, concentions, or even a simple dinner . . .

    We experimented with pizza making for dinner and omlettes in the mornings using whatever toppings/ingredients may have been good (some of them were not, but we ate them all the same). I still put powdered garlic on my pizza and eggs, and cinnamon in the sauce. We pushed each other to be better than we were. We learned not to fight angry, that rule 1 was, if you can’t take a hit, DON’T take the field. We held new years movie or tv marathons that would rival any film/media organization, and the price of admission was snacks and sodas. There are a galaxy of memories that I could list here that I keep very dear. I still keep a rubber chicken by my desk, and on every shoot as a reminder to push on, but keep the fun alive.

    So, here we are. The place we mused about during our angsty teen phase. I am not able to be there in person my friend. But this I know. There is a cloak on the snowy banks of the Clement reminding the night to keep watch. There is a sword in the canyon of Waterton guarding those who seek adventure. There is laughter on the winds and in the halls, keeping fun a joy held dear. There are composers notes and poet’s words guiding art and beauty and passion. You gave the gift of friendship, honor, and love, without the need of thanks. You went into the undiscovered country first. The adventure ever onward. Hell has no one brave enough to cross you, and so to heavens gateway, and sit and muse over us mortals here. I am sorry you have gone so soon. You faced the Kobayashi Maru, as we all must. So, when next we meet, I will ask you what you thoughts on my solution, I look forward to our discussion when it comes. Goodnight Mike . . . I miss you.

  6. Thank you for introducing me to the Doctor.

    Michael and I were the “2 Michael’s” when we worked together. He and I both discussed how we would like to go out with having someone with a sonic screwdriver interrupt our funeral service wearing the clothes we passed in. Michael, I wish I could have done that for you. You will be missed, my friend. In the words of one Doctor, I will say this:
    You were and always will be fantastic.
    I know you are aware now that I have passed on that same admiration of the Doctor to my kids. Miss you, brother.

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