Michael  Andrews

Mike Andrews, aged 72, died at Avera Sister James Care Center in Yankton, South Dakota on Sunday, January 12, 2020.
Michael Lawrence Andrews was born to Lawrence and Ruth (Wagner) Andrews in Saint Paul, Minn., on February 24, 1947. He graduated from Centennial High School in Circle Pines, Minn. in 1965. He studied at Hamline University until he ran out of money, then joined the Army, commanding an artillery section in combat in Vietnam. Mike eventually graduated from the University of Minnesota, and embarked on a colorful employment career. Among other things, he assisted on an Australian sheep station, worked as a roustabout in the oil fields of Louisiana, was a computer programmer and started a U-Pick raspberry operation north of Yankton. At some point he got married and divorced, but don't ask us when -- many of his belongings were destroyed in a fire in the early 1980s. He married his second wife, Laura Johnson, on October 12, 2012.
Mike was an avid outdoorsman and loved working with dogs, especially German Shorthaired Pointers. He got over his fear of horses by taking a job as a racetrack hot walker, helping racehorses cool down after a workout. He enjoyed reading, gardening and gambling (ask about his system for limiting losses at the craps table). He also performed in community theater productions in Richfield and Burnsville, Minn. and in Yankton, though his proudest moment as an thespian was probably making British character actor Robert Morley laugh on the set of a commercial for Tyson Chicken Mesquite. (He also won money off Morley's agent.)
Mike was preceded in death by his parents. He is survived by his wife, Laura, daughter, Genevieve, several cousins, a pile of in-laws and the other members of the Lame Donkey Poker Club..
No services are planned -- Mike didn't like to celebrate his birthday, so he wouldn't want us to observe his death. Also, he was incredibly frugal. Instead, his family suggests that the next time you play cards or hold a pair of dice in your hands, spare a thought for him. Make up a story about the squirrels in your yard in his honor, or gently cuss as a Minnesota sports team fails to deliver on their promise yet again.