It appears the family has decided to go with the traditional obituary for my father, who passed the evening of May 21st. I spent a lot of time working on a non-traditional obituary for him, as I wanted to share stories of the man I called dad, and more fully capture the essence of his character. It may be different. The language may be more colorful at times than is typical. But that's who he was; I loved him for it; and I know, deep down, he'd love this. RIP, dad. You'll be greatly missed.
Neal Christopher Rozniecki (or as he sometimes called himself, “Kneel”) was finally able to set his mind at ease on May 21, 2025. If you spent even just 5 seconds with Chris, you knew his mind was always in overdrive – often making unexpected detours along the way. This 73-year road trip started on March 29, 1952, in Detroit, Michigan, with his parents Joan (Jimmy) and Ed at the wheel. Chris, like his father, always excelled in math, so he naturally started his work-journey at Baskin-Robbins, where he could ask customers, “Will that be one scoop or two?” He worked from the age of 10 to just before his passing. In his later years, if one were to ask what he did for a living, the odds were good he’d respond, “I work with numbers and sh*t.” Yes, Chris was a poet. That’s actually not a joke. He wrote and recited humorous poems at work. When telling the family about these literary masterpieces, it left his wife and kids wondering, “Is he sure his job isn’t ‘poetry and sh*t’?” If there’s one thing Chris liked to do more than anything else, it was to make people laugh. There was never a line he wouldn’t cross, even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of dozens of friends and family, and never hearing the end of it for the rest of his days. Over the holidays, when with family in Michigan, he decided it’d be a good idea to, after using the restroom, have a long line of toilet paper lodged in the back of his pants, and trailing behind him. When he walked out of the bathroom and heard roars of laughter, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “What?” as if he didn’t know it appeared he possessed a tail made of toilet paper, as long as an anaconda. When at a bar, he’d be known to ask for shots of Penicillin. Even when Chris wasn’t intentionally joking around, funny situations seemed to follow him like a shadow. A few years ago, around Christmas, he was out with family. As he walked out of an elevator, with his COVID mask on top of his head (fashion statement, obviously), a man approached him and said, “Happy Hanukkah.” As the man walked away, Chris and the rest of his family stared confusingly at one another, as none of them were in fact Jewish. Then they all burst into laughter, as it became obvious to them the courteous stranger thought Chris’s COVID mask was in fact a yarmulke. Besides writing poems for a numbers-oriented job and attempting to make toilet paper sexy (again?), Chris loved: music, sports, and serial-killer documentaries (or as he liked to call them, “killer sh*t”). There he goes with the poetic tendencies again. No matter how bad they were, he was unashamed to sport: Detroit Tigers, Detroit Lions, and Detroit Red Wings gear. Okay, so he may have shied away from publicly illustrating his support for the 43-119 Detroit Tigers in 2003 and the 0-16 Detroit Lions in 2008, but he still did so privately. Allegedly. As there are a great number of quality cover bands in the Columbus area, Chris made it a point to attend at least one show per weekend with family and friends over the course of several years. During these nights out, there were three guarantees: 1) Music, 2) People-watching, and 3) Chris pretending to dance with an unattended chair. Sadly, the chair never reciprocated said interest, and Chris was then forced to travel home with his wife of 48 years. Yes, she too was disappointed by these turns of events. As for the serial-killer documentaries, it all started with the show “COPS” in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s. Studies suggest 79% of you reading this right now are singing, “Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?” and will have said song stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. You’re welcome. Chris’s hidden talents included, but were most certainly not limited to: the silent whistle, indecipherable Pictionary drawings, the dog-paddle moonwalk, and snores which registered at 9.6 on the Richter scale. At the end of the day, Chris, despite his humor, was rather introverted, as well as independent and generous, allowing his actions to do most the talking. This resulted in him owning a shirt which said, “I’m A People Person.” He believed in: fairness, equality, and that roundabouts made as much sense as the lyrics to “I Am the Walrus.” He didn’t believe in: Facebook (or as he called it, “My Face”), toolsets, and long-winded obituaries. Chris is survived by his “you are so boo-tee-fool” wife, Sherrie (his literal spoken words, the thoughts of everyone else). His sons, Craig Rozniecki of Columbus, Ohio, and Chad Rozniecki (Sarah Engelhardt) of Omaha, Nebraska, will now battle over their father’s tuba-sized condoms he had to specially order from Brobdingnag. Lucy and Olivia Rozniecki, of Omaha, Nebraska, and Ethan Rozniecki of Columbus, Ohio, will sorely miss their personal jungle gym known as “Papa.” His brother, Ken Rozniecki of Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, and sister, Sandy Rozniecki (Bill Brady) of Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan, will now tell Chris’s children their brother’s long held secrets about what he actually did with his clarinet growing up. Nephews, Alex Brady of Ithaca, New York, and Daniel Brady of Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan, as well as nieces: Darci Repine of Harper Woods, Michigan; Mandy Repine of Harrison Township, Michigan; and Kaitlin Repine (Tyler Garza) of Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, will miss their unhinged uncle like crazy. Lastly, Chris is survived by his dog, Lexi, who was the main reason neighbors busted out binoculars whenever they walked around the neighborhood – for there was no sight like Chris bent over, picking up dog crap. Flowers aren’t necessary, unless they’re fake. Chris always enjoyed watering fake plants. He’d contend they were “bone dry,” and while he was technically correct, it was not for the reason he thought. So, instead of sending bone-dry fake plants, you can send donations to the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation, at this link - pulmonaryfibrosis.org. Visitation will be held at 9:30 am and mass at 10 am, respectively, on Saturday, July 12th, at St. Margaret of Scotland, which is located (not in Scotland) at 21201 E. 13 Mile Rd., Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, 48082. Chris’s life celebration will be held the following day, Sunday, July 13th, from 4-9 pm, at Veterans Memorial Park, which is located at 32400 Jefferson Ave., Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, 48082. Food, beer, and wine will be provided. If you have another favorite poison, you may bring that. I hear Crown Royal is pretty good. O’Doul’s is another fan-favorite. Also, be sure to bring your favorite Chris jokes and stories. It'll likely be a hot one, so be sure to dress accordingly. We won’t know just how hot until we, as Chris would often say, “Check the dew point.” Chris spent his life: working hard; giving to others; and going so far as to embarrass himself, to infinity and beyond, for so much as a chuckle. Let us share these unforgettable moments with one another; illustrate a genuine appreciation for who Chris was as a person; and forever continue his priceless legacy.
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