In Memoriam:

"Sailor" John Cassiba

A Photo of "Sailor" John Taken about One Year
Before He Passed Away. (Click for larger image.)

Many Old Thai Hands remember one of the most popular foreigners ever to grace Thai soil, John Cassiba, known as "Sailor John" because of his near-decade in the U.S. Navy way back in the 1950's.

Sailor John was one of the nicest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I still feel his loss keenly, even almost a full year after his passing.

John succumbed to cancer December 29, 2002, a cancer he initially stoically accepted but then decided, too late, to try to battle.  At one point in early 2002 it appeared he had won against all odds in that battle, but a few months later the cancer surfaced again -- and it got him that time.

All John had to do to brighten any of our days was to walk into the room.  Ever smiling and cheerful, he never had a harsh word for anyone, even people who had seriously wronged him; he was the most forgiving soul around, and strove mightily to keep his eyes on the good side of everybody.

Of Sicilian ancestry, John was born in New Jersey.  After serving in the U.S. Navy about 9 years, he decided to do the normal thing: settle down and start a family.  Things didn't work out for him on that front, so he began a life abroad -- no at-heart sailor, as John was, can ever be truly happy unless he roams the globe.

And John covered much of the planet in his work; he was one of the last people evacuated from Iran after the Shah fell and chaos followed before Ayatollya Khoumeini came to power.  He eventually settled here in the Kingdom, living many years in his home on Chang Wattana Road in northern Bangkok.  In his final years he resided in Korat [Nakhon Ratchasima] northeast of the capital, but made fairly regular visits back to see his old friends, some of them of decades' standing.

Even now, nearly a year on, John often crops up in conversations around Washington Square, his old stomping ground.  John helped out many a person, and not just financially, but spiritually -- the best gift anyone can give.

Below is another photo of John taken some years ago wearing his "Cooties" hat.  "Maeng Das" is a Thai term that roughly translates, in one sense, as "Cooties." The Cooties are an offshoot of the Veterans of Foreign Wars [VFW] organization.

Maeng Da Sailor John in the late 1980's. (Click for larger image.)

After John's untimely death -- he was only 69, which isn't old these days -- a retired U.S. Navy Warrant Officer went to the Texas Lone Staar Saloon in Washington Square, one of John's favorite watering holes, to conduct the traditional "9 bells" ceremony accompanying the burial at sea of a sailor.  There is a genuine ship's bell in the bar, so it was especially fitting to hold the informal ceremony there.  It was an extremely moving occasion, and even those of us not veterans followed the Warrant Officer's unspoken -- but taken for granted -- command,  "Present Arms!" and raised our hands to render salutes to an old sailor, an old friend after the 9th bell, the one rung when a sailor's mortal remains are actually committed to the deep.  Though none of us like to admit it, there wasn't a dry eye in the place.  Even the girls, most of whom understood only that we were remembering John -- and all of whom loved him as dearly as the rest of us did -- cried when the final toll pealed.  My own eyes water at the very memory, as they are now as I type these words of remembrance.

John was cremated, at his wish, the cremation taking place New Year's Eve 2002.  Due to extreme traffic congestion, his wife told us not to even think about going to Korat for the service, something we all obeyed, despite our strong wish to pay our final respects.  But the informal ceremony at the Texas Lone Staar went a long way towards relieving us of the guilt we all secretly felt for not going.  [The one Squaronian who did go, Scottie, was John's oldest and best friend in the whole wide world, and he reported it took him 7 hours to drive up to Korat on the 29th -- a drive normally taking about 2 or 2-1/2 hours.]

Rest in peace, Sailor.  And know that when any of us you left behind think of you, in our hearts we still hear "Present Arms!" in our mind's ear -- and mentally obey, in honor of your memory.

Gone you are indeed, Swab -- but never, never ever will you be forgotten.

Written in Memory and Honor of
"Sailor" John Cassiba this 8th Day of Deceomber, 2003.