Marcus “Marc” Dean Staggs, a man leaving behind a legacy of humor, compassion, integrity, and love passed away on October 31st, 2024. Born on March 30 th , 1962 in San Diego, California, Marc would tell people he was from North Little Rock, Arkansas; but with time he would say, with reverence, that Helena-West Helena, Arkansas is where he grew up. This is where he gained an appreciation of the Delta region as a whole and would forever be a fan of Delta staples like blues music, storytelling, red beans, wildlife and nature preservation, perseverance, slow-cooked pork, and hospitality. He was raised on Perry Street alongside his three younger sisters: Elsbeth (“Elksbreath”), Leah (“Woo Woo”), and Kelly Dorcus (“KD,” as he called her with affection). Though he was the classic mischievous big brother, pranking and alleged psychological torture, Marc was also fiercely protective of his sisters. He wasn’t afraid to handle a situation on behalf of his sisters.
At a young age Marc had an itch to make some scratch. He was a bustling entrepreneur and amateur rocket engineer, taking up any job he could find from delivering papers to eventually roofing in the sweltering Delta heat in between two-a-day football practice. When faced with the choice of earning a high school diploma or doing the famous disco dance; “the hustle”; in gym class to complete his P.E. credit, he chose to join the Navy on January 14 th , 1981. He left Helena – West Helena on a journey that would take him to ports all over the world and start his lifelong fascination with travel and immersing himself in different cultures.
Late at night he would share stories about his time in the Navy during fireside conversations. He would stress the importance of travel in his life by often remarking “It doesn’t matter where you go in the world, people are people whether here or there, we all want the same things, we all want to be treated with respect, have a roofover our head, food, and love.” In the Navy, Marc met the love of his life Jean Gener, a stunning Northeastern Jersey girl, that he would love deeply and truly until the day he died. While in the Navy he was able to master electrical engineering and it would become a lifelong career leading to him starting his own business, Industrial Design and Automation. He took great pride in his work — planned meticulously, measured three times, calculated risks and executed with style and efficiency, always adhering to all union mandated smoke breaks. The goal was to always leave a job site, or control panel, or industrial oil drum burner cleaner than he found it and running like a . His name on the roll meant his heart in the work.
Uncle Marc was simultaneously punk rock, avant-garde and soulful. Marc’s passion for music ran as deep as his love for life and literature. He enjoyed introducing family and friends to music that was powerful, rebellious, and at times just plain silly. There was nothing he loved more than a truly talented musician using his powers for absurdity. Judas Priest (70’s Priest), Blood, Sweat, and Tears, Pink Floyd (not the hits), Johnny Cash, Tom Waits, Taj Mahal, Beastie Boys, and Ben Harper, were all fair game. Marc often threw in “deep cuts” that only a true aficionado would know. It was his attempt to root out the squares and stiffs post-haste. Whether he was shimmy-stomping to the Clash or losing himself in the smooth jazzy sounds of Spyro Gyra; “percolating” to the beat the percussionists lay with bongos, goombays, and sizzling maracas, Marc’s life was underscored by a soundtrack as bold as he was.
Marc was an outdoorsman and would have preferred to be in the woods, on the lake, or on the road at all times. Uncle Marc would race his Ducati through winding hilly cliffs of national parks, hike through the woods to find a hidden cabin, kayak across Lake Arenal in Costa Rica, and zipline through jungle canopies, or go crappie fishing with his nephews at the drop of a hat. Truly, what he loved most was the simple, quiet, beauty of nature. He could often be found sitting on his deck with binoculars in his left hand and a diet coke in his right, poised for primo bird watching and critter identification. Marc was an animal lover to his core, but there was a special place in his heart for cats. Over the years Marc and Jean would compassionately care for as many as sixteen cats over their many years together.
He leaves behind a family that will forever miss his huge laugh, big heart, and sailor’s spirit.
The family asks that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to ASPCA, Humane Society, American Heart Association, Last Prisoner Project, or The Nature Conservancy.
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