Michael Summers: 1969–2021

Mike Summers had only been gone for a few days, and he already appeared to have commandeered the control room upstairs. While rivers of tears still flowed among his extensive family of friends in Santa Barbara, they stopped to marvel at a weather anomaly unlike any they had ever witnessed. Amid intermittent rain, the sky was suddenly transformed into an impressionist painting — cascading with pink and purple clouds, a glowing orange orb, a breathtaking lightning show, and a few rainbows for good measure. They coined it “Tropical Storm Summers,” and it was easy to imagine him cackling with glee as he pushed all the buttons.

Summers couldn’t have been a more appropriate name for such a man. It always felt like summer when you were in his orbit. Anyone in his voluminous network would agree that he was the sun in our solar system. Whenever he greeted a friend, he bellowed their name with gusto and then wrapped them up in an enormous bear hug. There was never a doubt as to how much he cared about you. The sincerity in all his actions was as steadfast as the tides.

Mike would have found it poetic that he died on September 30 — the birthday of one of his musical heroes, Trey Anastasio. He was 52 years young when he suffered a heart attack while vacationing in Colorado with his partner of almost 10 years, Heather Smith. The two were getting away to process the grief of losing their dog, Ziggy. Mike was a huge dog person who had a particular affection for chocolate Labs. He is survived by Rhythm and joins his longtime companion, Max.

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