VERGENNES — Michael Dean Thompson, died on December 2, 2025, at his home in Vergennes, Vt.

Mike was born Aug. 24, 1943, in Kenton, Ohio. He was the eldest son of Margaret “Kate” (Ward) Clifford. His biological father, whom he never met, was Virgil Temple. Gale Thompson was a loving father to Mike until he died when Mike was six. Kate and her second husband Ernest “Ernie” Clifford raised Mike and his seven siblings, moving from Ohio to Vermont in 1949.

Mike is survived by his first wife and the mother of his four children, Sandra (Plummer) Choquette. His surviving children are Michele Sands of Minnetonka, Minn.; Michael Dean Thompson II of Williston, Vt.; Tiffany Shaw of New Haven, Vt.; and Ginger Cloud of Barre, Vt. He is also survived by his wife, Helene (Sears), and her children, Katha Bolduc, Isaac Butcher and Amy Chamberlin.

Mike also leaves behind his grandchildren and a great-grandchild. Mike is survived by his siblings Pam (Thompson) Cross, Patricia (Clifford) Neate and Constance (Clifford) Gilbert. He was preceded in death by Gale “Tweet” Thompson, Sharon (Thompson) Roberts, David “Danny” Thompson and Charles “Chuck” Clifford.

Michael Thompson proudly served his country with distinction, demonstrating profound courage as a military medic. He served in active duty in the U.S. Navy in Vietnam as a Fleet Marine Force (FMF) Corpsman — the U.S. Navy medics who serve with Marine Corps ground units. During his service in the Vietnam War, his rank was Senior Line Corpsman. He was a senior member of the planning leadership, recognized for his extreme bravery in treating the wounded under heavy fire during engagements that resulted in high casualty rates for his unit.

He also served in the National Guard in Vermont from 1978 to 2004, where he was Medical Battalion Chief and the cook for D Battery in Vergennes. Mike was a long-time member of the American Legion Post 14 in Vergennes where he found comfort and camaraderie.

For his service and sacrifices, he received many awards including a Purple Heart and a Gold Star.

Following his military service, Mike worked as a telephone lineman and in retirement delivered the Burlington Free Press.

Mike was a natural storyteller and quick to tell a joke. He was a sensitive soul who carried deep pain from his combat service and early life. This struggle regrettably led to more pain, both for himself and those in his life. He wrote poetry, gardened and nurtured others through cooking. Mike’s greatest peace was found in nature — he enjoyed nothing more than a day hunting in the woods or fishing on the lake.

The family is holding a private remembrance.

 

How Do You Feel

You sit at home and watch T.V.

And sip a refreshing drink, cold iced tea

The news comes on and then you hear

The All-Star game is drawing near.

Then you see a far-off land,

Where men are dying in the sand.

 

A frown appears across your face,

You’re tired of hearing about this place.

Who cares about Viet Nam across the sea?

It’s far away and doesn’t concern me.

 

You would rather hear the Beatles play

Than learn about the world today,

But stop and think a moment or two and ask yourself,

Does this concern you?

 

It’s great to be alive and free,

But what about the guy across the sea?

He’s giving up his life for you

So that you can live in liberty.

 

He’s far away and fighting a war,

Instead of fight at your front door.

This man who lives in filth and slime,

How can he do this all the time?

 

He’s about your age, so why should you care

about a war someone else should share?

You call him vile names and make fun of his cause,

Yet he is always first to win your wars.

 

You lucky guys, you laugh and sneer,

Because you really know no fear,

But this young man faces death each day,

But he’s always got something funny to say,

Like no mail today, O what sorrow,

What the hell, there is always tomorrow.

 

The morale is low, the tension is high,

Some men even break down and cry.

He wants to go home and see his loved ones.

 

He fights all day and watches all night,

He’s tired and sick, but he is ready to fight.

The college crew thinks he’s a fool,

But that is what makes him cruel.

 

You don’t appreciate what he’ll do,

Like give his life for you.

He sacrifices much, yet asks little in return,

Just so you can stay free.

 

He believes in freedom and the American way,

No parties and fun for this young man,

Until he comes home again some day.

 

The days are hot and so are the nights,

Oh! What wonders a cold can of beer can do.

He dreams of cold beer and a nice thick steak,

Then someone shouts, we got a village to take.

Some will be heroes because they are brave,

Others will die and face a wreath on their grave.

 

You’ll recognize him as he walks by,

That saddened look in his eyes.

He walks by so proud, yet looks so mean,

He’s called the world’s fighting machine.

So now how do you feel? ◊

— Michael Thompson