Michael George Gavigan

Michael Gavigan September 8, 1938 - August 25, 2026 Michael G. Gavigan, a longtime resident of San Francisco and Palm Springs whose remarkable life was defined by friendship, family, laughter and an unmistakable zest for life, died August 25, 2026, at age 87. Born in Chicago to George and Francis Gavigan, Michael spent his early years in the city he loved. After college, he became one of the first residents of Marina City, Chicago's then-futuristic circular towers. To his young niece and nephews, visiting Uncle Mike was magical-Christmas outings, ice skating, exploring downtown and looking out from his apartment high above the glittering city. Michael never married, but family was central to his life. He and his only sister, Diane George (Moore), were exceptionally close. When Diane's husband died of a brain tumor at just 38, leaving four young children, Michael became an even more important presence in their lives. He was, quite simply, always there. In the late 1960s, Michael moved to San Francisco and began a distinguished career in human resources with Honeywell, Stanford University and other international IT companies. His work took him around the world, helping organizations navigate employment practices across countries and cultures. Former colleagues remembered Michael not simply for his expertise and judgment, but as one of the most respected-and genuinely beloved-people with whom they ever worked. Michael divided his time among San Francisco, Palm Springs and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, where his beachfront home overlooking Playa de Los Muertos became a treasured sanctuary. Wherever Michael went, he seemed to know someone-and they usually had a story to tell about him. And Michael had stories. His tales could sound like a Damon Runyon novel: eating Italian "gravy" prepared by Al Capone's mother, a brief encounter with Marilyn Monroe, and friendships that opened doors to the Hollywood world of another era. The stories sometimes seemed too colorful to be true-until someone checked and discovered that, remarkably, they usually were. Music was another great love, especially soulful female vocalists like Sarah Vaughan. As a broke student, Michael once sang a requested 1940s song at a Greenwich Village piano bar in exchange for a sandwich-an arrangement that fed both his body and soul. Michael possessed a sharp wit, strong opinions and a wonderfully wicked gleam in his eye. Friends affectionately described him as equal parts brilliant, acerbic commentator and their own Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace. That sharp exterior was matched by deep compassion. During the darkest years of the AIDS crisis, when fear surrounded the disease, Michael spent time in San Francisco hospitals holding and comforting babies with AIDS. It was characteristic of Michael: when someone-or something-needed love, he showed up. His compassion extended especially to animals. The loss of his beloved dog Tosha affected him deeply, while his later companion Graci became nearly inseparable from him. Michael generously supported the Palm Springs Animal Shelter, St. Jude Children's Research Hospital and ALS organizations, a cause made personal by the loss of his nephew, Michael George, to the disease. Michael was preceded in death by his parents; his sister, Diane; and nephew Michael. He is survived by his niece and nephews Rick George, Jim George and Sharon George and great nieces and nephews Katy Swedlund, Christine Gannon, Ryan Arrington, Ricky Arrington and Elizabeth Arrington; and great-great nephews and niece, Charlie, Oliver and Grace Swedlund, and Wyatt and Logan Gannon. Michael's family extended far beyond bloodlines to decades of friends, colleagues and neighbors whose lives were brighter, funnier and more interesting because he was part of them. If a life can be measured by the number of people who loved you, Michael's was, indeed, a roaring success. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Palm Springs Animal Shelter, St. Jude Children's Research Hospital or an ALS organization in your community.