Ex UDT Seal addresses group at Kennedy Space Center

Programs and Publicity - KSC Barracuda Bulletin
Phil Stasik
We have welcomed many guests to talk to our club about a myriad of amazing underwater activities. We’ve met treasure hunters, researchers, deep sea explorers, film makers, and SRB recovery divers. How about folks that penetrate the underwater world to kill people and blow things up? I’m talking about the U.S. Navy’s elite Underwater Demolition Teams and SEALS. Every day and every night, these brave divers risk their lives somewhere in the world to defend our country. At our March General Meeting, former Navy U.D.T. diver Steve Pacelli will tell us what it’s really like out there. Some will remember that Steve spoke to our club years ago about his extensive experience at the Navy’s diver research facility in Panama City. Steve's presentation is a prelude to our club’s April field trip to visit the UDT/SEAL museum in Ft. Pierce. If you haven’t seen their web site yet, check it out at: http://www.navysealmuseum.com. You know that this will be fun and interesting!
Steve will give us an insider’s view of what the training is really like, and how “black” operations may compare with your imagination. I’ve known Steve for years, and if only half of the stories that he tells are true, your jaw will drop…
If you’ve ever wondered about exploring the underwater world to kill people and blow things up, you’re going to have to listen to Steve Pacelli! Don’t miss our next General Meeting, and please bring a friend.

I remember Thanksgiving as a little girl at Gram's. Uncle Steve was there with everyone else in Gram's living room with a table almost not big enough for all of us, and almost too big for the room itself. After gorging on many courses Uncle Steve, Dad, me, Allie, and I don't remember who else went for a walk down at Cove. We brought peanuts to feed the squirrels. I remember him in his navy peacoat showing me that if I held the peanut really still, the squirrels would come right up to us and take the nuts. Then he took a peanut and held it up far enough so the squirrel had to climb on to his knee to get it. To a little girl, a squirrel on the knee was a big deal.

I also remember the drive down to visit in Florida... We got there in the middle of the afternoon and all had to go to the bathroom after a long drive in a little car. The toilet paper was running out in the bathroom and someone mentioned it to Uncle Steve. His response? Everyone gets to use 3 squares; if you need more too bad. We don't have any! which was followed up by a chuckle and a run to the grocery store.

He always tried to make the best of a rotten situation with his quirky sense of humor. He always made everyone laugh: at him, at ourselves, it didn't matter. He was good at changing the subject to distract people from "yelling" at him... and good at stirring up a good bit of trouble. He gave the best hugs, and cracked himself up telling stories about dive buddies or fellow pilots.

I'm gonna miss being able to make more little memories with him, almost as much as I'm gonna miss him.

My Favorite Uncle.

Me and my favorite uncle.  

Ok, ok, I only had one uncle.  But he was definitely my favorite relative.  He was so full of life and always so much fun to be around.  I haven't met anyone as easy-going as he was, or who liked to stir up as much good-natured trouble.  He always treated me like an adult and he never judged me for being who I was.  I always respected him for that.

I remember visiting him when I was little.  my family took a road trip from Connecticut to Florida in a Dodge Omni.  Four people.  Tiny car.  But it was worth it.  With Uncle Steve around, there was always fun to be had.

He let me drive his rider lawn mower when I was little.  I didn't really know how to work it, and couldn't quite steer properly.  I drove it right into a tree in his front yard.  I was expecting to get yelled at.  But, though he did kick me off while laughing at me, he did not yell.  It was an accident and I was a kid and all was forgiven.  That's just the kind of person he was.

My first ever go kart experience was with my dad, uncle, sister and cousins.  I had a headache that night (I had fallen off the bench at the dinner table when my cousin pushed it in too fast) and they all kept driving past me and laughing.  It was all in good fun.

Once, when my uncle's family was home for a visit, we all went to Playland in Rye, NY.  I love Playland.  It's a fun place to be, and that trip was no exception.  My uncle Steve and I went on one of the roller coasters together, after having waited to be able to sit in the front seat.  He was hootin' and hollerin' the whole ride.  He was so animated!  It makes me laugh to this day to think about it.  We decided to go on the same roller coaster again, but this time was not as fun.  We were loaded into the seat, safety bar lowered across our laps as the ride started.  *click*click*click*click*click* as the chains pulled the coaster up the hill.  We inched closer and closer to the top, anxiously awaiting the adrenaline-filled drop over the crest.  But it never came.  The clicking stopped.  We were stuck.  This was not good, I thought.  I didn't really know what to do, and the safety bar pretty much offered only one option- staying put.  But my uncle stayed calm as a cucumber.  No big deal.  The ride would start.  Right?  And so we waited.  And waited.  Still no movement, still a calm uncle Steve.  People started calling down to what, in retrospect, must have been a poorly trained twenty-something working their summer job who could not figure out how to get the ride up and running again.  They (from the safety of the platform) assured us we would be fine, and made no attempt to free us from the obviously malfunctioning ride.  Another ride-goer eventually figured out how to release the safety bar in his own car and alerted the ride operators that he was getting out and helping the rest of us escape as well.  We all tromped down the skinny ramp next to the roller coaster cars and got safely back on land.  As we found the rest of the family in the amusement park, we all recounted the tale as though we had all shared some great adventure.  There was no crying.  There was no fear.  Uncle Steve's relaxed nature made sure of it.

I was always the troublemaker in my family.  I was always the one being scolded or put it the corner with no hope of release for good behavior.  I remember once that I broke something of my mom's.  Being a fellow troublemaker, my uncle covered for me and took the blame.  He kept me out of trouble and it was our little secret.  He was a cool uncle.

Because of him I almost went into the Navy.  I had so much respect for him and his accomplishments.  I asked him once what he did for the Navy.  He told me he was a diver.  Simple.  No further explanation.  I asked his title.  Master Chief.  (Ok, now we were getting somewhere.)  Master Chief of what?  His reply?  "I can't tell you."  That was pretty badass.  I always wanted to know more, but it wasn't in the cards.  For all we know, he was an underwater ninja who saved the world while we all slept.  It wouldn't have surprised me.

He always said that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.  I loved that.  He had a million phrases and smiles to go with them.

The picture at the beginning of this post was taken last Thanksgiving.  It was the last time I would see him.  We promised to visit him in Florida and go sailing with him, be somehow a year went by without that sailing trip.  I deeply regret letting distance prevent me from spending more time with him.  But he lived his life to the absolute fullest and I can honor him by trying to do the same.  I will take the trip I think I cannot afford.  I will take advantage of every opportunity made available to me.  And I will make the best of the worst situations.

It's what he would have done.