08/27/2026
It’s not every day you meet a person who becomes a lifelong friend; those days are rare and usually unexpected. And it’s not every day you meet a kind, gentle soul, but that describes our friend Mark Sekunna. With a heavy heart, we announce his passing on Sunday, August 2, 2026. He passed peacefully with his family by his side after a brief health battle.
Mark’s family will have a Memorial Celebration of Life at the St. John’s Family Funeral Home at 385 State Road 207 in St. Augustine on Saturday, August 29, 2026, at 11 AM, if you wish to attend. If you would like to share any kind words for the family, we encourage you to post them here.
As written by Debbie Lange:
Mark was a long-time resident of St. Augustine. He and his wife Robin opened up their printing shop, “Wet Tees” on West King Street back in 1982. His shop has produced all of our St. George Tavern T-shirts for many years, and we have developed a great friendship & camaraderie during that time. Anyone who knew Mark knew where to find him— in his favorite spot— in the back of his shop with the big doors wide open, printing T’s. Mark loved being able to step outside into the morning sunshine and watch his community go about its regular routine. He would listen to the train’s rumble passing by on its daily schedule and watch the constant traffic of cars that flowed through the intersection and the regular flow of pedestrians on bicycles that rode past on the sidewalk outside of his shop. Mark was kind and giving, and he cared deeply about his neighborhood and the people who lived there. He was always friendly to any passer-by, and because his doors were always open, many people stopped to chat. Mark never met a stranger; after a good long conversation, they would walk away friends, exchanging ideas about their favorite things or recipes. Mark was a “foodie”— Whenever he found a new favorite restaurant, he loved to talk about the dishes he liked there. He would always say about his newest find, “This place is great, but nothing compares to my wife Robin’s food - she’s the best cook!” He would then proceed to describe what she cooked the night before, licking his lips, still savoring the thought of the scrumptious dinner. He loved to talk, and his family was his favorite subject. He loved them all dearly, and he loved to share all the latest goings-on in their lives. Tarasa, Mallory, his daughters; Alex, his son. The grandchildren: August, Alana, Emery, Elliot, Marley, Ozzy, Aubrey, and Caiden. Robin, his wife of thirty-something years. He couldn't talk enough about his love for them all and their many achievements. His grandchildren were always a hot topic. He would talk about how Marley was taking cooking classes or how Ozzy had taken his first step. There were many occasions when he would get me on the phone, and we would talk about nothing and everything for over an hour before finally talking business. When Marley would witness one of Mark’s long-winded conversations with someone, she would jokingly say, “Pappy found his next victim.” I once told Mark if chatting was an Olympic sport, he would win the gold. He truly loved the people he surrounded himself with, and it was always evident. He would always end his conversations with a hug and an “I love you.” A common phrase that he always said in greeting was, “It’s another beautiful day.” Mark appreciated all that the world had to offer — from the green grass to the blue sky, and all the elements in between.
Mark was a compassionate man. He loved his community and found goodness in everyone he met. He was always willing to help a neighbor in need. He gave any help he could, freely and without hesitation. Mark’s wife, Robin, shared a story about Mark’s kindness that I would like to share with you. It goes something like this …
One day Mark was working in his shop printing T-shirts with the doors wide open when a man on a bicycle pulled up, and they began to chat. The man was a nice person; he had some troubles in his past and, by his looks, was a little “down-on-his-luck”. Mark paused in his work and had a friendly conversation with the man. This was one of many times the man had stopped by for a friendly chat with Mark. On this occasion, the man told Mark he was on his way to a job interview. Mark eyed the man up and down, landing on his T-shirt, which was too big, too faded, and had a design not fit for day wear, much less an interview. Mark told the man, “You can’t go to a job interview like that!” He told the man to wait a moment while he went into his shop and dug around in his mountain of boxes. He came out with a nice, new, collared, button-up, polo-type shirt. He gave the man the shirt, told him to put it on, and wished him good luck. Many days later, the man rolled up on his bicycle to tell Mark the good news: he got the job. The man said he was sure Mark’s kind gift had helped him get the job. Mark accepted his thanks but said it was not necessary, and that he was happy to help a neighbor. It was at this moment that Mark’s favorite UPS truck driver pulled into Mark’s parking lot with a delivery for him. Because of countless deliveries over the years, Mark and the UPS driver had become good friends. So when the UPS driver pulled up he smiled at Mark and the man on the bicycle and then asked Mark, “You know this guy??” Mark replied, “Yes, he stops by often to say hello and he was just thanking me for a shirt I gave him that he believes helped him get a job.” The UPS driver said, “Mark, thank you, that’s my cousin, he’s been trying to get a job for a while, thank you for helping him!”
I love this story, not only because it shows Mark’s kindness, but also because it shows how “tight-knit” a community we are, and one never knows how far-reaching one good deed can go. Mark loved his community, and this is one fine example of how he touched our lives.
One of the last things I got to tell Mark while he was in the hospital was that I missed our long conversations — his upbeat optimism was always infectious, and I missed it. I remember one day before he got sick when I called him and asked, “How are you doing?” He would reply, “It’s another beautiful day.” I said, “Mark, it’s raining out.” He replied, “It’s still beautiful out.” On that particular day, all I saw was a dreary, sloppy mess only a good rain can cause. But as I sit here now and write down this final tribute to Mark, I’m watching the rain come down. I hear the peaceful sound it makes as it falls from the sky and hits the roof, part of nature's symphony. I watch the translucent drops of rain streak down my windows, creating a blurred image of the outside world like a Monet painting. In this moment, I don’t see a dreary day; I see the beauty Mark spoke of. And as I close my eyes and remember our friendship, I send you one final wish — this rain is for you.
