Mark Ferm Herrick

Obituary For Mark Ferm Herrick

Mark F. Herrick, 76, died Jan. 18, 2026, at home in Bellingham, Washington, after living gallantly with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) for several years. Mark was born in July 1949 in Mansfield, Ohio, the third child of Bill (Harley William) and Edye (née Edythe Evelyn Sullivan) Herrick. A sailor who continued sailing (and racing) well into the last year of his life, Mark was also a dental technician who rebuilt the smiles of thousands of people over a career of more than five decades; a loving husband and father who proudly wore his “Dad to the Bone” T-shirt for many years; and a shy but talented guitarist and singer, whose music gave enjoyment to himself, his family, and a few select friends.

A memorial service will be held at 1 p.m. Saturday, April 18, at the Squalicum Boathouse at Zuanich Park, under the care of the Bellingham Friends (Quaker) Meeting. The doors will open at 12:30 for in-person attenders. The service and Zoom meeting will begin at 1 p.m. (Meeting ID#: 840-2134-4946, passcode: joinus.)

Mark is deeply missed by his wife Carol Virginia and son Ian of the family home; his son Jordan of Oregon; his sister Cyndy Simons and nephew Darren Ferrell of Florida; his brother Bill Herrick (Bonnie) of Kentucky; and his sister-in-law Peg Ferm (Gregg Hoover) of Washington, and many dear friends. He was preceded in death by his father, mother, and stepfather Paul Blake.

Memorials may be made to Bellingham’s Community Boating Center (https://www.boatingcenter.org/), Bellingham Friends Meeting (https://bellinghamfriends.org/), or the ALS Association (https://www.als.org/ways-give).

Mark’s family moved from Ohio to Florida when he was eight; his fondest childhood memories were of riding his bike and running barefoot on the sandy streets and beaches of Sarasota. The family endured financial struggles during his parents’ separation and eventual divorce, and Mark remained careful with money all his life. His mother married Paul Blake when he was 14.

Mark graduated from Sarasota High School in 1967, and from Palm Beach Junior College (aka P-B-and-J College) a couple years later. He’d begun working in dental labs when he was still in high school, and was ready to begin his career when he graduated junior college, but decided to attend Florida State University for a couple of years. He was drafted in 1972.

After he finished basic training at Ft. Knox, Mark was stationed at Ft. MacPherson in Atlanta, where he worked as a dental technician for the Army. He continued that work in the National Guard after he moved to Colorado, where he was honorably discharged in 1978. There he learned to hike, backpack, and ski both downhill and cross-country—pursuits he enjoyed for decades.

From Colorado he set out for the West Coast and landed in Eugene, Oregon, where he first learned to sail. Pursuing that passion, he bought a day sailer and later an Aquarius 21, a pocket cruiser. When he decided to seek better sailing in Washington in 1983, he had the Aquarius towed to Olympia. From there he set sail along the coastline. He arrived in Bellingham Bay as the port was completing a new section of Squalicum Harbor, and he was able to get one of the new slips on Gate 9.

Mark joined the Corinthian Yacht Club and honed his skills sailing on the larger boats of friends in Bellingham and around Puget Sound. Eventually he sold the Aquarius and bought his Cal 2-27, True Blue, to enter in the cruising class races. His laidback manner earned him the moniker “Cap’n Slack,” but he was a careful and increasingly skilled sailor. He won a respectable number of series over the years, and also enjoyed cruising in the San Juans. Many sailing buddies became lifelong friends, especially Martin Waidelich and Carolyn Casey, who were like family.

After working in Bellingham dental labs for a few years, he joined dentist Gary Tetrick’s team, and the two enjoyed decades of collegial work at the Meridian Dental Center, sharing a commitment to precision and professionalism. Mark formed close friendships at the office, now Tetrick Family Dentistry, owned by Gary’s daughter Jill. During the time that the office closed on Fridays, he took advantage of the schedule to make skiing at Mt. Baker a weekly routine in winter, and sailing in summer.

In 1989, Martin and Carolyn introduced him to Carol Virginia Ferm. Virginia, then a reporter at the Bellingham Herald, shared Mark’s love of skiing, dancing, backpacking, and sailing. In 1992, they were married at Semiahmoo Park, in the care of Bellingham Friends (Quakers). He was 42. Mark took to marriage and parenthood, dancing the babies to sleep, helping with homework and sports, and taking the family on cruises in the San Juans, on skiing, camping, and backpacking excursions, and on a trip to the United Kingdom in 2019. He always remembered birthdays and anniversaries, and cheerfully helped host parties for children and adults alike.

While he was modest about his musical abilities, he had a good voice and a love of music that grew after he took up the guitar and played weekly with his buddy Dirk Petty starting in the 1990s. On his and Virginia’s tenth anniversary, Mark wrote for her a song about the backpack trip to Morovitz Meadow where they’d decided to be married. With typical humility, he called it “Morovitz Mumble.”

Curious, a lifelong learner who became a skilled cook and an informed citizen, Mark was a patient, gentle man whose moral code was consideration for others. Scrupulously honest, he could be stubborn; once he’d made up his mind, it generally stayed made up. When Jordan was 2, Mark decided that to be the father he wanted to be, he needed to give up tobacco. He’d been trying to quit for years, but that was the year he succeeded. He never went back.

But his hallmark was adaptability. When maintaining True Blue proved untenable combined with the demands of family life, he again adjusted his metaphorical sails and let the boat go to a new owner. He then became a sought-after crew member on friends’ boats.

Despite settling at the opposite corner of the country from friends and family of origin in Florida, he maintained ties of deep affection. Mark’s family enjoyed many visits to the Gulf Coast, and welcomed occasional visits from Mark’s mother and sister; Jim Brown, a lifelong friend from high school; his brother Bill; and friends from his Oregon days. His nearby in-laws—Virginia’s sister Peg Ferm, her spouse Gregg Hoover, and Virginia and Peg’s mother, Doris Ferm—also became close family.

After more than 50 years as a dental tech, Mark retired in 2017. Again, he adapted easily to a new lifestyle. He took up kayaking, volunteered at the Community Boating Center, and bought a Catalina 22, the SV Life. In heavy air he would still crew on a friend’s larger boat for the yacht club races, but he raced Life whenever he could. He loved the wind and water, and was never happier than when coaxing as much speed as he could from a small watercraft. In his later years, he became a formidable competitor, despite sailing one of the smallest boats in the fleet. His close friends Kathy Sheehan, Jim Webster, and Pam Spencer were faithful mates on the water, and he remained good friends with Dirk’s widow, Di, to the end of his life.

In early 2023, he began having difficulty walking. Doctors tried various remedies, but by the end of the year he needed a foot brace to walk, and was no nearer to knowing what was wrong. He made an appointment to see a neurologist, but had to wait five months. In the meantime, he learned his sister, still in Florida, was going through a tough recovery from illness and a fall. He and Virginia, who had always loved road trips, in March set out across the country with their two dogs. Five weeks later, they returned with memories of family and friends visited, beautiful vistas, and funny stories from the road. In June, he got the diagnosis that spelled the end of his life: ALS.

His diagnosis, 17 months after the first acute symptom, was late in coming: the average is 11. Looking back, he and Virginia realized the muscle cramping and twitching he’d experienced for several years had been early symptoms of ALS. The fatal progressive neurological disease causes paralysis and has no cure. It’s thought to be caused by a combination of genetic and environmental factors. Mark was exposed to neurotoxins at the army bases where he was stationed, as well as in military and civilian dental labs, and to assorted industrial and agricultural neurotoxins in the places he lived as a child. No one else in his family has had ALS.

The diagnosis did not fundamentally alter him. He’d always had a reserved but genial demeanor, valuing community, kindness, and the opportunity to help, teach, or learn. Living with ALS, he overcame his reluctance to ask for help, marveling at how glad others were to be asked. He focused on his good fortune in not succumbing to the disease as a younger man; in being supported by loving family and friends; and in being part of Bellingham’s Community Boating Center. The center was developing an accessible sailing program in 2025—enabling Mark to sail, and even race, their Hansa sailboat after he could not get from the dock into a regular boat. His final cruises on Bellingham Bay used the port’s new CBC lift in fall of 2025, featured in their video on accessible sailing, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znyiU-zuxDI.

Mark also felt fortunate that, as a veteran, he qualified for support and care from the excellent ALS clinic at the Puget Sound VA Medical Center. The ALS rehab team members became not only medical providers, but also friends he could count on. Among many other things, the VA supplied him with a power wheelchair, helped him buy a wheelchair-accessible van, and offered a grant for a bathroom remodel. Because his left leg, not his right, was initially affected, he was able to drive for a year after his diagnosis, including six months after he was using the power wheelchair. Many veterans with ALS cannot get a remodel done through the VA in time. Thanks to Virginia’s friend Joanne, who connected him with the kind and determined contractor Dave Malone and his wife Carla, Mark got the accessible bathroom he needed through the VA.

At every turn, where some might have been devastated by disability and a shortened lifespan, he adapted, with determination, inventiveness, and an unflagging spirit. He did not think he’d survive the illness, but neither would he let it defeat him. He lived fully, enjoying what he could: taking his power chair on walks with Virginia and the dogs; sailing; hanging out with friends and family; playing and listening to music; watching the Mariner’s extraordinary 2025 season; shopping; cooking; and welcoming visitors to the home.

Once someone said, “you’re a fighter,” but he really was not. He said he was a lover, not a fighter. He was also a tool-user. He appreciated and learned to use each piece of medical equipment he was offered, extending his life and his capabilities as long as he could. When no equipment was handy, he and Virginia invented ways of coping with a new challenges. They maintained a united front and reveled in their time together. As his primary caregiver, Virginia spent the better part of every day with him. It was like an odd kind of second honeymoon: they laughed as much as they cried, supporting and loving one another always.

Mark was grateful, too, for the love and care of his sons. Before his diagnosis, he’d begun teaching Jordan to play the guitar. They played together until Mark could not continue, but he still encouraged Jordan, who regularly visited and played for his dad. Ian, still in Bellingham, helped with all kinds of tasks, and even moved back home in the fall of 2025 to help during Mark’s final months. Both Jordan and Ian were home the last week of Mark’s life, helping Virginia tenderly care for him.

The text-to-speech app on Mark’s iPad enabled the machine to speak for him. The most-used phrases were “thanks,” “thank you,” “you guys have been great,” “thanks so much,” and the like. Virginia suggested he develop a simple hand signal for “thank you,” since he said it so often and retained the use of his right hand, so he did.

Two days before his death, he had a burst of energy just before sunset. The family piled into the recently repaired van and drove to Zuanich Park. They went along the promenade behind the breakwater to the mouth of the harbor where he had set sail so many times. Though it was mid-January, the air was springlike. Gulls were flying in the golden sky, and a breeze set the rigging to making a musical tink-tink-tink all around the harbor. As they returned to the van, he gestured, “Thank you,” to Virginia, Jordan, and Ian in turn. Grateful, full of grace, to the last.

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