Michael Francis O'Reilly

With heavy hearts, we announce the passing of Michael Francis O'Reilly III, who honorably concluded his mortal journey of 89 years on November 7, 2026, at his home in St. George, Utah. With his beloved wife Lupe and family by his side, this hardworking, intelligent, and exceptionally resourceful man departed this earthly existence. He leaves behind a lifetime of memories, countless lessons, and a legacy of faith and devotion to his family.

From his humble beginnings in Salt Lake City, Utah, to his final years in the beautiful red-rock country of southern Utah, his life was a testament to hard work, discipline, perseverance, and an unwavering belief in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He was a man of many talents, a master of mechanical maintenance, a walking encyclopedia of useful information, and quite possibly one of the most meticulous individuals to ever pick up a wrench or change the oil in an automobile. Those who knew him well can certainly attest to the accuracy of that description.

He entered this world on May 12, 1937, at Holy Cross Hospital in Salt Lake City, to Michael Francis O'Reilly Jr. and Bertha Midgley O'Reilly. Born toward the end of the Great Depression and a child during WW II, he learned early in life the importance of hard work, frugality, and making do with what one had. Although his family was far from wealthy, he proudly recalled they never went hungry or lacked proper clothing. His father worked as a pipefitter/steamfitter, and built their family home in East Millcreek. His mother spent time devoted to her children with occasional work outside the home during the war.

An interesting childhood recollection he recalled was the disappearance of bananas from grocery stores during World War II. Apparently, this wonderful tropical fruit had become such a rarity that its eventual return following the war was a memorable occasion. Growing up during those difficult years undoubtedly contributed to his lifelong commitment to conserving just about everything imaginable. Electricity, water, gasoline, food, and household supplies were never to be wasted. This philosophy would eventually be passed down to his children, whether they wanted to learn it or not!

He was first married to Lenore Cook on January 24, 1957 and eventually made his way to sunny Southern California, where he worked for Beverly Hills Water Department to support a growing family. They were blessed with four beautiful children, Mechele, Tony, John, and Mark. Four years after that marriage concluded, he met a young Tongan woman named Lupe Finau while attending church in Los Angeles. As fate would have it, Lupe was teaching Sunday School to one of his sons. No one could have imagined that this seemingly ordinary Church connection would eventually bring together two people from such vastly different backgrounds, but Mike had his eye on the prize and did not give up pursuit until she agreed to marry him in 1975 and then were sealed for time and all eternity in the Los Angeles Temple.

He was an American of Irish and English ancestry, raised in Salt Lake City, while Lupe had grown up thousands of miles away in the beautiful island Kingdom of Tonga. Different cultures, different languages, different customs, and certainly different ideas about many things! Yet somehow, these two individuals found a common bond in their faith and love for one another.

Together they welcomed seven children: Joseph, Joshua, Salote, Sione, Lucy, Filipe, and Alekisanita. Combined with his four older children, that brought the grand total to eleven! Needless to say, the O'Reilly household was never lacking in activity, noise, chores, or opportunities for parental correction.

Dad worked tirelessly to provide for the family, while Mom took on the enormous responsibility of caring for the home and raising the children. With so many personalities, different ages, and two distinct cultural backgrounds under one roof, there were expected challenges along the way. Nevertheless, they persevered and built a family founded upon faith, hard work, and love.

Although he wasn't particularly known for being overly expressive or sentimental, his love for Lupe was undeniable. During his later years, he would often describe her as being "special, special, special" to him. Those three simple words were a tender expression of the deep affection he had for his wife of 51 years. Coming from a man who generally preferred practicality over poetry, they carried considerable meaning.

Throughout his working years, he established a career in water treatment, helping provide clean drinking water to communities and maintaining the cooling-water systems used in power generation. He worked for the cities of Beverly Hills and Inglewood. He also labored for a spell at Salt River Project in Page, Arizona. He eventually worked for the East Bay Municipal Utility District, commonly known as East Bay MUD, until his retirement in 2004. His employment took the family to several communities in CA, including Los Angeles, Hemet, Oakland, Fairfield, and Vacaville. His job in Page, AZ landed the family in Kanab, UT for a spell, and Mike loved the people of Kanab. Regardless of where he worked, one thing remained constant: his dedication to performing his responsibilities correctly and to the best of his ability - and a guarantee that his one-way commute would be at least an hour. Following his retirement from East Bay MUD in 2006 he and Lupe moved to St. George, Utah, where they would spend the remainder of their years together. Retirement provided more time for reading, studying, traveling, and enjoying the company of family.

One of his favorite sayings was, "If you're gonna do a job, do a quality job." This wasn't simply a catchy phrase he occasionally repeated. It was a philosophy he practiced religiously and expected his children to adopt. Taking shortcuts or doing sloppy work were not acceptable options. If something was worth doing it was worth doing correctly the first time. Perhaps his greatest earthly talent was his extraordinary mechanical ability. Dad could repair, replace, rebuild, or maintain just about anything with an engine, and quite a few things without one. Oil changes, spark plugs, shocks, alternators, starters, and even entire engines were all within his realm of expertise. While others might have immediately sought the services of a professional mechanic, he was far more inclined to open the hood, retrieve his tools, and solve the problem himself.

And speaking of tools, his collection was extremely extensive for a man who worked in water treatment. He maintained an organized workroom complete with toolboxes, workbenches, and shadow boards where each tool had its own designated resting place. Unfortunately, he also had a house full of children who apparently believed these tools were community property. The disappearance of a wrench, screwdriver, or socket could initiate an investigation of considerable intensity. Woe unto the unfortunate child who borrowed a tool and failed to return it to its rightful location! His attention to automobile maintenance was nothing short of legendary. Oil changes were performed religiously every 2,000 miles. Tires, fluids, and mechanical components were carefully inspected before road trips, and allowing the gasoline tank to fall below one-quarter full was practically unthinkable. The results of this extraordinary devotion to preventive maintenance were remarkable. Several of his automobiles exceeded 300,000-400,000 miles, with one reaching an almost unbelievable 550,000 miles! Most people would have retired these vehicles long before reaching such astronomical mileage. Not Michael Francis III. As far as he was concerned, if an automobile was properly maintained, there was no legitimate reason it shouldn't continue faithfully transporting its occupants down the highway.

One of his beloved automobiles was a 1965 Volkswagen Beetle, affectionately remembered by its license plate number, RZM502. That little VW Bug made numerous journeys between Los Angeles and Salt Lake City after the family moved to California in the late 1960s. Its small engine and modest dimensions were apparently no obstacle to making the long trek across the desert. According to family lore, this beloved little automobile eventually met ultimate and final untimely demise involving a shotgun. The precise circumstances surrounding this rather unusual mechanical retirement remain a story of their own. Suffice it to say, a shotgun blast was certainly not part of Dad's recommended maintenance schedule!

His meticulous personality wasn't limited to automobiles and tools. It extended into virtually every aspect of daily life, particularly the upbringing of his children. Proper manners and etiquette were not optional. Shoes and hats were to be removed before entering the house. Hands were to be washed. Running indoors was prohibited. At the dinner table, one was expected to say please and thank you, ask for food to be passed rather than reaching across another person's plate, and request permission to be excused upon finishing a meal.

And then there were the household conservation commandments! Turn off the lights. Close the refrigerator. Don't waste water. Don't leave the door open. Of all his familiar expressions, perhaps none was uttered more frequently than, "Shut the door. We don't live in a barn!" With eleven children in the family, one can only imagine how many thousands of times that declaration was made over the years. We suspect that even today, somewhere in the back of our minds, Dad's voice can still be heard whenever a door is left standing open.

He was equally determined that his children learn the value of physical labor. Family activities frequently included gathering firewood in the Kaibab Forest, chopping and stacking wood, growing vegetables in the stubborn clay soil, and canning peaches. We also became familiar with the seasonal ritual of preparing and winterizing the swamp cooler, along with the countless automobile and household repairs that seemed to be a never-ending part of family life. On one memorable firewood excursion, the family pickup became hopelessly stuck in the mud, requiring a walk down the road to find someone willing to assist. These adventures weren't always enjoyable in the moment, particularly for children who might have preferred spending their Saturdays doing something other than manual labor. Yet in retrospect, they became invaluable lessons in perseverance, problem-solving, and learning how to use our hands.

Mike wasn't the type of father who spent much time engaging in frivolous activities. He was generally serious, disciplined, and focused on the responsibilities of providing for his family. Nevertheless, he made tremendous sacrifices to ensure his children had opportunities to enjoy their youth and pursue their interests. When his boys needed a suitable place to play basketball, he arranged to have a concrete basketball court poured at the family home, replacing what had previously been dirt and gravel. He also made considerable efforts to support his children's athletic activities. On several occasions, he would finish a grueling 12-hour work shift and then drive eight hours to attend his sons' high school football games.

Ponder on that for a moment. After twelve hours of work, when most people would be looking forward to a comfortable chair and a good night's rest, he would climb into his automobile and embark on an eight-hour journey just to support his child. That was his way of showing love. He didn't always need to say it. His actions spoke for themselves. Absolutely remarkable dedication!

There were also the simple pleasures of childhood: riding on his shoulders, enjoying piggyback rides, and traveling along the dirt roads of southern Utah in the back of his pickup truck. The little hills on the road to the dump became an amusement park of sorts, providing an exhilarating ride that probably seemed much more spectacular to us children than it actually was. One Christmas morning, Joseph, Joshua, and another sibling had been hoping to receive BB guns. As the presents were opened, Joshua became increasingly concerned that Santa Claus, or perhaps Dad, had somehow overlooked his request. Fortunately, one final present was discovered beneath the couch, bringing an overly dramatic conclusion to what had briefly seemed like a disappointing Christmas morning.

Another unforgettable characteristic was his rather peculiar taste in food. While most people might enjoy a glass of milk, he was perfectly content drinking buttermilk. Plain yogurt, grapefruit, Grape Nuts, black licorice, and the darkest of chocolate were regular favorites. As a child he disliked cooked vegetables so he acclimated to the crunch of natural vegetables, and on occasion he could be found eating a raw onion as though it were an apple! Yes, a raw onion! One can only wonder what culinary genius first convinced him that biting directly into an onion was a desirable dining experience, but rumor has it that it was a genetic trait passed down from Michael Francis Jr. He was also particularly fond of Corn Nuts, a crunchy snack that became a favorite among some of his children. Unfortunately, this beloved treat eventually proved to be more than his dental equipment could withstand. After breaking a tooth and requiring a root canal, he apparently concluded that the financial consequences of eating Corn Nuts far outweighed their nutritional and recreational benefits. Thus ended a longstanding relationship with one of his favorite snacks.

Beyond his mechanical abilities, he possessed a remarkable intellect and a genuine love for learning. He was articulate, well-read, and blessed with an extensive vocabulary. Proper grammar was important to him, and his children were occasionally treated to impromptu lessons on the correct usage of the English language. His personal library contained an impressive collection of books, particularly those dealing with Church history, gospel doctrine, and the scriptures. He was constantly reading, studying, and expanding his understanding of the world around him. Another peculiar habit was his insistence on carrying three essential items wherever he went: a calculator, a pen, and a pair of nail clippers. These were apparently indispensable tools for navigating the complexities of daily life. One never knew when an important calculation, a written notation, or an unruly fingernail might require immediate attention!

Although he was not a pianist, he had a deep appreciation for classical piano music - especially the compositions of Chopin and Beethoven. He purchased a grand piano for the family and found considerable enjoyment in listening to anyone who would play. There was something particularly fitting about a man who appreciated precision, discipline, and hard work also finding beauty in the intricate compositions of the great classical masters.

Traveling was something he enjoyed, provided it could be accomplished behind the steering wheel of an automobile. Flying was certainly not his preferred method of transportation. Why entrust your journey to an aircraft when you could personally inspect the tires, check the oil, fill the gasoline tank, and travel in a vehicle whose maintenance history you knew intimately? He drove millions of miles in his cars!

One of the great joys of his later years was the opportunity to help care for his grandson Cyrus. From infancy through his toddler years, the two spent considerable time together and developed an exceptionally close relationship. Those who knew Dad primarily as a serious, disciplined, and demanding father were able to witness a particularly tender and affectionate side of him through his relationship with Cyrus.

And now we come to what we believe was the most important and lasting legacy of this remarkable man. As impressive as his mechanical abilities, intelligence, and work ethic were, they were ultimately secondary to his faithfulness and commitment to being a true disciple of Jesus Christ. His testimony of the restored gospel was not merely something he professed on Sundays. It was a guiding influence throughout his life, shaping his decisions, his expectations for his children, and his understanding of his responsibilities as a husband, father, and member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

He loved studying the scriptures, learning about gospel doctrine, and sharing his knowledge with others. Throughout his life, he faithfully served in numerous Church callings, including as a stake missionary, in elders quorum presidencies, and as an executive secretary to a bishop. He particularly enjoyed teaching Sunday School and Gospel Doctrine, where his love of learning and his extensive knowledge of the scriptures were put to good use. Following his retirement, he continued serving the Lord for ten years as a missionary at the FamilySearch Library in St. George. His devotion to studying and preserving family history was another expression of his belief in the eternal nature of families and the sacred covenants that bind them together.

Although he could be stern and demanding in matters of work, discipline, and responsibility, he was often noticeably tenderhearted when speaking of the Savior, his family, or the blessings of the gospel. His love for Jesus Christ was sincere and deeply rooted. He frequently counseled his children to keep the commandments, repent of their shortcomings, honor their covenants, and remain faithful to the gospel. Another of his favorite sayings was, "Where much is given, much is required."

He believed wholeheartedly in this principle. To him, talents and abilities were not simply gifts to be enjoyed for one's personal benefit. They came with an obligation to develop them, work diligently, and use them to bless the lives of others. His expectations for his children were high because he believed they had been blessed with the capacity to accomplish much good in this world.

During the final years of his life, he battled multiple cancers and even though he chose not to pursue cancer treatments, he enjoyed remarkably good health until just a few weeks before his passing. His final days were spent at home in St. George, where he was lovingly cared for by his wife and family.

He is survived by his beloved wife of 51 years, Lupe Finau O'Reilly, and his children- John (Diedra)-Dayton NV, Mark-SLC UT, Joseph (Marie)-Rockwall TX, Joshua (Kristen)-Pasco WA, Salote (Brian)-St. George UT, Sione (Tara)-Pleasant Grove UT, Lucy (Brandon)-Orem UT, Filipe (Liz)-Carthage NY, and Alekisanita-St. George UT, along with 32 grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his children Mechele and Tony, his mother Bertha and father Michael, as well as three siblings, Robynn, Tim, and Dan. He is also survived by his sister Kate.

How does one adequately summarize the life and influence of a father who spent nearly nine decades upon this earth? How do we measure the countless sacrifices, lessons, corrections, and examples that helped shape the lives of his children and grandchildren? Perhaps the answer is found in the ordinary things we once took for granted. The sound of tools being used in the garage. The smell of fresh motor oil during another carefully scheduled oil change. The countless trips to gather firewood. The insistence on proper manners. The reminders to conserve electricity and water. The lectures about responsibility, hard work, and doing a quality job. The expectation that we would use our minds and hands to solve problems rather than simply give up when things became difficult.

As children, we may not have fully appreciated these experiences. In fact, there were many occasions when we wished Dad would relax his standards just a little! But as we've grown older and raised families of our own, and encountered the challenges of life, we've come to recognize the tremendous value of the lessons he so diligently worked to teach us. We are eternally grateful for his example of honesty, integrity, perseverance, and self-reliance. He taught us that hard work was honorable, that our word should mean something, and that the ability to repair, build, and maintain things was a blessing worth developing. But beyond all these wonderful qualities, we are most grateful for his unwavering testimony of Jesus Christ and His restored gospel. His example of faithfulness, commitment to his covenants, and determination to do what was right will forever be the greatest inheritance he leaves to his posterity.

Dad, we honor and love you for being a hardworking, honest, intelligent, and faithful father. Thank you for the countless sacrifices you made for our family. Thank you for teaching us how to use our hands, exercise our minds, solve problems, and take pride in a job well done. Thank you for demonstrating that love is not always expressed through words, but often through the quiet and consistent acts of sacrifice and service that make such an enormous difference in the lives of others. And most importantly, thank you for teaching us to love Jesus Christ, keep His commandments, and remain faithful to His gospel.

We know that your mortal journey has come to an end, but we also know that the influence of your life will continue through your children, grandchildren, and generations yet unborn. Your legacy is not measured by the miles accumulated on your automobiles, the tools in your workshop, or the countless hours you spent laboring to provide for your family. It is measured by your influence, values you instilled, and the testimony of the Savior you shared. We shall forever be grateful for your example and for the privilege of calling you our father.

May you now enjoy a well-deserved rest from your earthly labors, knowing that the work you performed here has left an indelible impression upon those of us who were blessed to be your children. And Dad, wherever your next assignment may take you, we're quite certain that you'll approach it with the same determination, preparation, and attention to detail that characterized your life here on earth. After all, if you're going to do a job, you might as well do a quality job!

We love you, Dad. We honor your life, cherish your memory, and look forward with faith to that glorious day when we shall be reunited.

Until We Meet Again.

Funeral Services will be held on Saturday, November 14, 2026, at 11:00 am at the Knolls Ward Chapel, 3868 S. Bentley Road in St. George, Utah. A viewing will be held Friday evening from 5:00 pm to 7:00 pm and Saturday from 9:30 to 10:30 at the church. Interment will in the Tonaquint Cemetery.