David Lee Crankshaw

David Lee Crankshaw was born June 20, 1946 in Flint, Michigan, and graduated from Swartz Creek High School in 1964. He married his beloved wife, Bonnie, before serving his country in the United States Army. While David was stationed in Germany, Bonnie was able to live there with him, giving them memories and experiences they would carry with them throughout their lives.

David and Bonnie eventually settled in Swartz Creek, where they raised their family and created a home they loved. David worked for Buick in the Experimental Engineering Department, where his natural ability to understand how things worked, along with his skill, determination, and talent for solving problems, served him well.

He was truly a jack of all trades. There wasn’t much David couldn’t fix, build, repair, or figure out, and he took great pride in the things he accomplished throughout his life.

David was also a Master Mason and Shriner at the Swartz Creek Lodge and spent many years as an active member.

He was an avid hunter and fisherman. He enjoyed playing baseball and going on hunting trips with friends from work. For decades, he and Bonnie were part of a mixed doubles bowling league, where they formed friendships that extended far beyond the lanes. They enjoyed spending time with those friends and traveling together over the years. He enjoyed coin collections which provided him with a daily treasure hunt, stopping at garage sales and making fishing lures.

But David’s greatest joy was his family.

He was involved whenever and however he could be. He coached Little League baseball for his son Mike’s team for many seasons. He supported his daughter Lisa throughout her years in Job’s Daughters. And no matter the weather, he could be found on the sidelines of Gail’s soccer games.

After retirement, David and Bonnie made their vacation place their full-time home. It became a place where they could slow down, enjoy the outdoors, welcome family, and live the life they had worked so hard to create together.

He loved knowing what everyone was doing and hearing all about it. He took genuine pride in watching his family grow into the people they were becoming; their interests, accomplishments, projects, and hobbies all mattered to him.

David could spend hours fishing with them or watching them work on something they were passionate about. He didn’t always need to participate. Sometimes being nearby, asking questions, offering a suggestion, or simply watching was enough.

Their interests became his interests because they belonged to the people he loved.

When he couldn’t be there in person, David even learned to navigate technology so he could keep up with everyone. It may not have come naturally to him, but staying connected to his family was worth learning. He wanted to know what they were doing, see what they were up to, and hear the stories behind the pictures and updates.

David liked to joke around, tell stories, and have someone to talk with. He enjoyed trips to the casino, where the conversation and company were often just as entertaining as anything happening on the casino floor.

He found happiness in the simple pleasures of home, too.

He enjoyed his garden and took pride in watching things grow. He liked visiting with his Amish neighbors and observing all the activity going on around him. And when the day was winding down, few things could make him happier than pickles, cheese, and salami with a cold beer while curling up on the couch to watch television, with a pet beside him, usually hoping to share the snacks.

Some of the family’s favorite memories with David were made outdoors.

Days spent fishing at the lake were sometimes a race between breaks in the rain. There were hooks to remove from one another, lines to untangle, and plenty of stories along the way. But his true reward was watching the kids and grandkids catch the “monsters” they were so excited to reel in.

At the farm, David spent countless hours cutting trails to ride, building hunting blinds, working on projects, and enjoying bonfires.

Those evenings around the fire were never really about the fire. They were about being together.

Deer camp held a particularly special place in David’s heart. As the fires grew bigger, so did the tales. Stories became taller, laughter came easier, and no one seemed too concerned with exactly how much of each story was true.

David loved to tell stories, and he had plenty to tell.

He was proud of his life and the things he had accomplished, and he had every right to be. He worked hard to provide for his family and took great satisfaction in creating a life where they could be happy, have adventures, and make memories together.

His barn was filled with recreational vehicles, tools, projects, and things waiting to be fixed or improved. When something broke, David was usually ready to figure it out. There was always something to tinker with, repair, build, improve, or solve.

But the things David fixed, built, acquired, and accomplished were never as important as the people he shared them with.

From His Children

To us, Dad was the person we could count on.

He showed up.

He listened.

He wanted to know what was happening in our lives and in the lives of our children. Whether we had big news to share or were simply having an ordinary day, he wanted to hear about it.

We will remember him in the stands and in the audience, on the lake, at the farm, around the fire, and at deer camp. We will remember countless road trips in the truck and camper. We will even remember the lessons and lectures from over the years.

Dad taught us to work hard, to figure things out, to take pride in what we do, and to enjoy the simple things.

But perhaps his greatest lesson was one he taught simply by the way he lived: loving your family means being interested in their lives, showing up when you can, listening to what matters to them, and being there for the moments that are important to them. To slow down and enjoy it.

We know how proud Dad was of us, and we hope he knew how proud we were of him.

Dad gave us a home filled with love, a childhood filled with adventure, and a lifetime of memories. He gave his grandchildren the gift of a grandpa who genuinely cared about who they were, what interested them, and what made them happy.

We will carry all of that with us.

From His Grandchildren

Grandpa had a way of making ordinary time together become something worth remembering.

We will always remember his bean soup, his stories and all the hours spent hunting and fishing.

We will always remember you showing up for sporting events, school activities, club events, theater performances, and anything else you could make it to.

Lillian especially remembers the quality time they spent together in the kitchen making banana bread and the unforgettable oxtail soup, along with the hours he spent nearby watching her sew her latest creation. He would listen to me ramble on for hours and he was happy simply being there, watching, asking questions, and sharing the moment.

That was Grandpa. He didn’t have to be doing the activity himself to enjoy it. If it mattered to one of his grandchildren, it mattered to him.

David was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Bonnie, and his mother, Lillian.

He is survived by his father, Milo; his sister, Mary; his children, Lisa (John) Hibbard, Michael (Kelly) Crankshaw, and Gail (Patrick) Burris; his grandchildren, Travis and Dylan Crankshaw, Andrew (Abbey) Carreras, Patrick and Lillian Burris, and Josh and Alex Hibbard; and nieces.

A private ceremony will be held at Great Lakes National Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations in David’s honor may be made to Shriners Children’s Hospital.

David’s life was filled with hard work, adventure, laughter, family, and love.

He built a life he could be proud of, but perhaps his greatest accomplishment was the family that surrounded him until he left us on August 28, 2026 and the memories they created together.

He leaves behind a family who will spend the rest of their lives telling his stories, remembering his lessons, laughing about the adventures, and carrying his love with them.