Alrick Clauson Knight Sr.

Alrick Clauson Knight Sr. passed away at home on July 26, 2021, age 75. Rick was born October 9, 1945 to Robert Ashdown Knight and Marjorie Olive Clauson Knight in Bridgeport, CT and grew up in Cornwall-on-Hudson, NY. After graduating from Cornwall High School, he joined the U.S. Air Force, and the same month of his discharge married Susan Kathryn Knight (née Andera). He went on to receive his B.S. in mathematics at the University of Albany-SUNY, and then moved with his family to Champlin, MN.

Rick was a loving husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather. brother and friend. He was also a singular person: stubborn, opinionated, temperamental and quirky. He was extraordinarily funny, as well, never missing an opportunity to tease, provoke, cajole and joke with loved ones and strangers alike. His humor was always good-natured: He directed his barbs at those he loved most, and during difficult times his comical side had a calming effect like nothing else for those around him. He loved hunting, camping, road trips, holidays, family traditions and time with his family at their cabin. He was also a collector of things that ran the gamut: guns, knives, coins, pig sculptures and a long etcetera. He may have collected camels when he was stationed in Istanbul, but the first one he bought ate his hat. Rick promptly sold it. He relished being the center of attention, and he made his presence felt wherever he went. Rick was a storyteller par excellence , and his childhoodーwhich could have been plucked from a Mark Twain novelーwas one of his favorite subjects to talk about. These same stories were also instructional: If you find yourself in need of aquatic transportation, build a raft, catch a handful of large carp, place them in a basket made of sticks, tie it to the end of a rope, sprinkle kernels of corn just beyond the basket, and hold on tight. The carp won't take you anywhere, but the experience will make wonderful material for a story. Some of his stories were cautionary: Avoid gathering pipe-smoking college buddies in a rented house to try to see how smoky you can make a room. You'll need to take a walk to let the smoke clear, and you may return and see a fireman chopping a hole in the roof of your house, even if there's no actual fire. Rick would also advise against attempting to walk across the longest train trestle east of the Mississippi, primarily because trains frequent these trestles at inopportune times. He would also discourage you from hanging out with a friend whose family had just purchased a new taxi to add to their taxi business. If you insist on maintaining such a dubious friendship, Rick would suggest you decline your friend's invitation to take an unauthorized spin in the car, especially if it's winter. Your friend may head for the Hudson River and do donuts on the ice. If the car goes through the ice, your friend's dad will be displeased. If you're a kid, bear in mind that you're broke, and your friend's dad will therefore have to pay a tow truck driver to extract the taxi from the river. Rick was generous in dispensing these nuggets of wisdom. He didn't want you to learn first-hand that damning up streams on the steep roads of Cornwall, NY in the winter would lead to flooded roads on which the water would freeze, resulting in cars sliding off the road and down the steep, wooded hill to the right of the road. Unless you have an impeccable reputation in town, he would also advise against returning to the scene a few hours later to observe the chaos. The police will likely suspect you and your friend, question you, reject your plea of innocence, grill you further in front of your parents, and, in doing so, lead you to persist in your transparently deceptive claim to guiltlessness. Remember that fireman? That unmercifully thin ice? People talk, Rick would caution you. He also knew that you're not as clever as you think. Once you acquire the reputation of a mischievous lad with a penchant for lying, why would Chief Harry Mahar of the Cornwall Police Department believe you had no involvement in blowing up deserted buildings, trees, sections of a stream and cars in the junkyard? Harry knew the construction site on the other side of town reported missing a box of dynamite just a few days earlier. Rick was a lover not only of adventure but also of people, and would therefore urge you to ponder these sage bits of advice.

Rick was proud of his military service, of his motherーa loving parent and dedicated nurseーand of his father, an Army veteran, a Grand Master of the Freemasons and a skilled accountant. Above all, he was proud of his four children.

Among his many beautiful qualities, Rick was known for his charisma, his wit and his sense of humor. Everyone who knew him witnessed his uncanny ability to make people laugh, especially when they were sad, discouraged or upset. He was a uniquely comforting presence even at funerals, always able to bring happy tears to the grieving.

Those who knew him best know what he would say to us in this time of profound grief: Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened. Rick will live on in the thoughts and actions of everyone he touched.

Rick is survived by his wife, Susan K. Knight (née Andera) and his children, Renae Krech (Marc), Alrick Knight Jr. (Jennifer), Vicki Paek (Guillaume), Brandon Knight (Brittany) and his younger brother, Jeffrey Knight. He is preceded in death by his parents, Marjorie and Robert A. Knight, his older brother, Robert P. Knight, and his grandson Dominic Krech. Rick has the following beloved grandchildren: Dominic, Kayley, Meggan, Alyssa, Ricky III, Elyse, Colton, Oliver, Kennedy, Jack, and great-grandchildren Cayden and Oliver.

A memorial service is scheduled for 2-4pm Monday, with time to share memories of Rick from 3:30-4:00pm, August 2 at the Thurston-Lindberg Funeral Home, 2005 Branch Ave, Anoka, MN. 763-421-0220