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Gary D. McCabe, age 65, left us on Oct. 3, 2020 after a 9 month battle with cancer. He endured this difficult time with strength, grace and gratitude. He was born in Chicago on Feb 6, 1955 to the late Lennard and Betty Jean (Maddox) McCabe. After graduating early from New Trier East High School, Gary hitch-hiked across Europe for a year, often playing his guitar and singing Neil Young songs in pubs. He spent time as a licensed massage therapist, earned his undergraduate and master’s degrees in social work from Loyola University and opened his own practice in psychotherapy. He tried his hand at acting and even wrote a book. He married the love of his life, Linda Bronstein, on Oct. 6, 1995. Gary found his true vocation in teaching. He became a beloved and inspiring instructor at Phoenix Military Academy in Chicago, where he taught for 16 years. A past student started a scholarship in Gary’s honor which is intended to help 3 students each year go on to college. Survivors include his beloved wife Linda, sisters Sharon McCabe (Michael Rothstein), Janet Powers (Ray), Valerie Hadley (Paul) and Tracy Stewart (Ken), nieces Ashley and Noreen, Aunt Elizabeth Postell and many other extended family members and dear friends. The family wishes to thank Journey Care Hospice and all the doctors, nurses and medical staff that cared for Gary along the way. We are planning an online celebration for a future date. If you wish to honor Gary’s memory, you can give to his scholarship fund: Phoenix Military Alumni McCabe Power Scholarship : https://phoenixmilitaryalumni.org/donations/scholarship- fund-donation
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Will (Bill) Jennings
I got to know Gary at NTE through his Advisor and my Latin teacher (Tom Forrer, who passed June 2022 at his beloved farm.) We often found ourselves in the same corners at parties, or more likely in the kitchen. I traveled a bit with him after graduation and we did a lot of work at Forrer's farm...dismantling a 30ft+ sandstone block silo by tediously hand hacksawing and bolt-cutting tensioned steel cables and slowly chiseling out the rather sizeable blocks, levering them to fall into piles of loose hay we'd forked into position---all the while 'tied-in' with a single looped heavy rope to lean against and hope our feet didn't lose traction. The blocks then became the rehabbed foundation for one wall of the large barn, which we rolled, sledded, and levered into position...with the entire barn jacked up on a series of small hydraulic railroad jacks found at a salvage yard. We were convinced humans built the pyramids after that project. We followed spring-fed creeks to their origins, barefoot in the cool water and winding our way through what flat land exists in coulee country Wisconsin. And he loved climbing to the top of the front silo with his guitar to play and sing songs we'd made up during the day's labor. We stayed in touch by mail and an impromptu visit or three, then lost touch. He was the sort of fearless that some saw as being part naive, but when you spent time with him it was clear he was compassionate, empathic, and dedicated to his friends and communities. I know he went on to have a very successful and highly-influential career as a teacher, which was a career we both came into through the scenic route, and was a positive force in the lives of his students. He was wicked smart, kind, and loved to observe the world at as many levels as he could find. We both became fluent in 'eye roll' in our time on the farm and relished finding ways to tease Forrer just enough to get him to laugh with us. I miss knowing he is in the world.