Mason KraeseMason Kraese

Mason was such a loveable kid. He struggled in school, so we took him to the doctor, and he was diagnosed with ADHD. We tried medication after medication, looking for what worked for him.

In sixth grade it all came to a head. He curled up in a ball at school and wouldn't respond to anyone. Mason spent a week in a children's psychiatric hospital, over Mother's Day. It is a moment I would rather not remember.

Afterward he was sent to a different school. It wasn't for him. He didn't belong there. He was not a bad kid; he just didn't know what was wrong. We took him to a specialist, and his diagnosis of Asperger's explained everything.

We fought to get him back into regular school, just in time for high school. He started in all special classes and worked his way up until he was in regular classes and thriving. He graduated in 2016 with a Regents Diploma. But he knew he wouldn't be needing it.

He always said "College isn't for everyone," and he tried trade after trade until he found his niche. He was a helper at an HVAC company, worked HVAC at Cold Spring Harbor Labs and, briefly, at Huntington Hospital, and built docks.

Most of those jobs were in HVAC, the work I have done for 35 years. Then he got his break: Trane hired him into their HVAC service department and sent him to the Local 638 Steamfitters Metal Trades Apprenticeship. Three years later, in April of 2025, he graduated. He was so proud of himself.

Mason passed in August of 2025, just two weeks before he was getting his own service van and moving from Long Island City to Plainview, ten minutes from home instead of hours.

Mason always kept a close circle of friends. Kids who didn't understand his disability used to pick on him, and he tried to fit in anyway. As he grew up, many of those kids grew with him. He even made friends with the ones who used to give him a hard time.

He was a Cub Scout, a Boy Scout, a Suffolk County Police Department Explorer, a Huntington Manor Fire Department junior and then a firefighter for six years. He was a team player: basketball for St. Peter's in the Long Island Lutheran league, and football for Walt Whitman.

He joined everything with his friends, all the way to the Huntington Manor FD. He also raced for years with his friends on the East Farmingdale FD Hares Drill Team.

He also did his own thing. He started an Instagram club for his Jeep Liberty, with members from all over the world, and made friends on every Jeep outing. Then he got his diesel truck, because every Blue Collar Cowboy needs diesel. He loved that truck, and it brought him even more friends.

Mason was a country boy. He hated the city and loved the outdoors. He wanted a big piece of property where he could explore like a little kid, looking for bugs and snakes and cool looking rocks. Out East was where he belonged.

He was a member of the Farm Bureau and the Long Island Antique Power Association in Riverhead, where he loved the truck pulls. He started with his Jeep and then moved up to his truck, his girl. He made friends there too.

Mason loved weekends at his friend's house upstate. The guys rode ATVs, target shot, spent whole days down by the river, went to the county fair, or just sat around the campfire telling stories. That is where Mason spent his last days, with his friends.

By the end, Mason had more friends than we ever could have imagined. There are so many stories of how people met him, each one more amazing than the next.

Mason was a patriot who loved God and country. He enjoyed a good life and lived it to the fullest while he was here.

Since we lost him, we have heard from people we had never met, people Mason touched with his kindness in one way or another. It reminds us how much he was loved.

His friends and family miss him dearly and would give anything to have him back.