Connor Patrick Murray

Connor Patrick Murray, 28, of Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin, passed away peacefully in the early morning hours of October 5th, holding the hand of his mother, Risha. Connor had spent the previous eleven months fighting through the devastating effects of a traumatic brain injury following a car accident. While his family and friends held onto hope for his recovery, Connor ultimately was not able to return to the life he loved. He fought hard every day, and he was never alone in that fight.

Connor was born and raised in Gays Mills, Wisconsin, to Kevin and Risha Murray. He attended Aquinas High School in La Crosse, where he played football and began forming many of the lifelong friendships that remained important to him throughout his life. To many of his high school friends, he was simply “Murray”—a nickname that followed him into the Navy and remained a part of who he was.

Connor was the kind of person who was difficult not to like. He was quiet and easygoing, often more comfortable sitting back and listening than being the center of attention. He was supportive of everyone around him and genuinely kind to people. He could certainly be stubborn when he had his mind made up, but that was part of Connor, too. He loved to have fun, especially when he was younger, and he loved spending time with his friends. Most of all, he loved his family.

Connor enlisted in the United States Navy at 19 years old and proudly served for five years aboard the submarine USS Columbus (SSN762) based in Norfolk, Virginia, as an Electronic Technician Submarine Navigator. During his service, he was awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal, National Defense Service Medal, and Good Conduct Medal.

While the Navy itself was not always his favorite part of the job, Connor loved the people he met and the friendships he made while serving. He maintained close relationships with many of his Navy friends long after leaving the service, and those friendships remained an important part of his life.

After returning to Wisconsin, Connor completed the lineman program at Southwest Tech and went to work for Madison Gas and Electric, where he spent the last three years of his working life. He absolutely loved being a lineman. Connor took tremendous pride in being good at his job and in being part of a crew that he respected and enjoyed working alongside.

He especially loved the calls that came in during the middle of the night after a major wind or ice storm. While most people were happy to stay inside during those storms, Connor was the guy who wanted to go out and restore the power. He worked long hours, in difficult conditions and around the clock, because he took pride in doing his job well and getting the lights back on for people who needed them.

Connor spoke often about how much he liked the men he worked with, his supervisors, and his union. After his accident, that respect was returned in a way that meant a great deal to his family. His coworkers and supervisors repeatedly went out of their way to support Jada and the family, and many came to help in the months that followed. It was clear to everyone who knew about Connor's work that he was highly respected and deeply cared about.

But Connor's greatest accomplishment was not his Navy service or his career. It was the family he built with his wife, Jada.

Connor and Jada shared a life together and were devoted parents to their two boys, Connor Jr., 6, and James, 3. Jada was a stay-at-home mother, and Connor was incredibly supportive of her and deeply involved in raising their children. He cooked, helped around the house, cared for the boys, and made being a husband and father a priority every single day.

His boys worshipped their dad.

Connor was a patient, loving, kind and thoughtful father, while still being the kind of dad who knew when to be firm. His boys are a reflection of him in so many ways. They are kind, honest, thoughtful, well-behaved and genuinely good kids—and anyone who knows Connor knows exactly where they got those qualities.

Connor loved taking his family fishing in their old flat-bottom boat. It had a habit of breaking down, sometimes leaving Connor rowing his way back to shore, which became a running joke among his friends and family. But that never seemed to matter. What mattered was being on the water with his boys.

He also took them into the woods, teaching them about the things he loved. Connor Jr. would occasionally join his dad for deer hunting, and those trips were something he treasured. Hunting and fishing were not simply hobbies for Connor. They were ways to spend time with the people he loved.

Connor enjoyed hunting deer and he loved being in the woods. In fact, on the morning of his accident, he was on his way to go bow hunting.

Connor's friendships were another defining part of his life. He maintained close friendships with people from nearly every chapter of his life—friends from high school and football, men he served with in the Navy, coworkers, hunting partners and others he had simply met along the way.

He had a remarkable ability to form deep friendships because he was genuinely a good person. He was the kind of friend who would do anything for the people he cared about, and the people who loved him would do anything for him.

That became especially clear during the eleven months following his accident.

His friends never stopped showing up.

Many of his closest friends came to see him over the final weekend of his life. In one final gathering that perfectly captured who Connor was, his friends managed to sneak a few Busch Lights into his hospital room. They sat together in a circle around Connor and shared one last cold beer with their friend. Halfway through, a nurse walked in and caught them. Everyone laughed about getting busted drinking together one last time.

It was funny, a little ridiculous, and completely fitting.

That was Connor.

He was the guy people wanted to have a beer with, sit around with, hunt with, fish with, work with, and simply spend time with. He didn't need to be the loudest person in the room. He just needed to be there.

Connor was also an incredibly important part of his brother Seamus's life. The two brothers were only two years apart and were best friends for nearly all of Connor's 28 years. They hunted together, worked together, fixed things together, spent countless hours together, and shared nearly every part of life for a long time. Connor was not simply Seamus's younger brother; he was his best friend.

Connor also held a special place in the lives of his nieces and nephews. His niece Claira was especially close to him. Connor had always been kind and gentle with her and loved playing with her when she was little. As the families grew, Connor loved watching his boys and Seamus's children grow up together and looked forward to doing things with them as their families continued to grow.

The last eleven months were unimaginably difficult for Connor and for everyone who loved him. He spent much of that time in a minimally responsive state following his brain injury. His family never stopped hoping that he would somehow find his way back to them. He never gave them a reason to believe he had stopped fighting.

Connor spent his final months receiving care at the VA Medical Center in Minneapolis. His family will forever be grateful for the extraordinary care he received there. His nurses and care team came to know Connor not simply as a patient, but as a person. They cared deeply about him and his family. His nurses cried alongside his family when the time came to move Connor to a hospice room, a testament to the impact he had even while he could no longer speak for himself.

In his final days, Connor was surrounded by the people who loved him most. His closest friends came to say goodbye. His family gathered around him. And in the early morning hours, with his mother holding his hand, Connor passed peacefully.

Connor was deeply loved.

He was loved by his wife, who stood beside him through the hardest year imaginable. He was loved by his boys, who still carry their dad with them in the memories they have of him. He was loved by his parents, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, his extended family, his friends, his Navy brothers, and the men he worked alongside.

He was loved by people who had known him since he was a kid and by people who had only known him for a few years. He was loved by people who worked beside him, drank beer with him, fished with him, served with him, and simply enjoyed being around him.

And he will be missed by all of them.

Connor lived a life that was, at its heart, about people. He worked hard. He served his country. He took pride in his work. He loved hunting and fishing. He loved having a good time. He loved his friends. But above everything else, he loved his family.

He was a wonderful husband, a picture-perfect dad, a loyal brother, and the kind of friend that people spend a lifetime being lucky enough to have.

Connor may have left this world far too young, but he left behind something that cannot be taken away: a family who adored him, two little boys who will grow up knowing exactly how much their dad loved them, and a remarkable number of people who can honestly say that their lives were better because Connor Murray was in them.

He will be missed more than words can say.

Connor is survived by his wife, Jada Murray; his sons, Connor Jr. and James; his parents, Kevin and Risha Murray; his brother, Seamus Murray (Christina); his sister, Morgan Fenick; his brother, Finn Murray; his nieces and nephews; and countless friends and extended family members who loved him dearly.

A visitation and wake will be held at Vosseteig Funeral Home in Gays Mills on Friday, October 9, 2026, from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. A second visitation will be held at St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Gays Mills on Saturday, October 10, beginning at 9:00 a.m., followed by the funeral Mass at 10:00 a.m. Burial with full military honors will follow the service at St. Patrick’s Cemetery, Mt. Zion.

“Murray” was many things to many people—a sailor, a lineman, a hunter, a fisherman, a husband, a father, a son, a brother and a friend. But to everyone who knew him, he was simply Connor: a genuinely good man who loved his people and would have done anything for them.

Vosseteig Funeral Home & Crematory is serving Connor's family.

325 Sunset Ridge Ave.

Gays Mills, WI 54631

608-735-2100