Not too long ago, a psychic assured Michael Tye that he would live to be 70. The psychic was only about half wrong. When Michael succumbed last week to cancer, at the age of 49, he had already packed more into his life than most of us could hope to achieve in twice the time. " How did he do all that, " says his sister, Randy Tye O’Brien, " run a company and have a great social life and help people who needed help? It’s phenomenal. "

Indeed, looking back on the life of Michael Tye, it’s hard to believe he was just one person. As president and CEO of United Liquors, he had enormous responsibilities running the region’s largest alcohol distributor — overseeing a staggering 8500 accounts — yet he still found the time to concoct fancy new cocktails, and to create a highly successful wine: Marcus James. " He was ahead of his time in understanding the great potential for future growth in the wine and spirit business, " says Michael’s father, A. Raymond Tye, in a written statement. " He was always on the cutting edge of the industry he loved. "

But Michael was far more than a hotshot businessman. In 1990, he was instrumental in founding Community Servings, a meals-on-wheels service for people with AIDS. Shortly after, he was able to use his considerable persuasive skills to land Tanqueray gin as a sponsor for the Boston–to–New York AIDS Ride, at a time when " AIDS wasn’t fashionable as a fundraising cause, " as Community Servings executive director David Waters puts it. " He knew how to make the system work for the causes he cared about. If Michael wanted it to happen, it happened. "

Even cancer had trouble slowing Michael down. In his final months, he worked with the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, bringing comfort to toddlers stricken with the disease. And up until the very end, he continued his work as a board member of the Fenway Community Health Center — a cause that he had long held dear. " He never stopped going, " says Waters. " He was holding meetings in his hospital room, talking to people on the phone, advising people right up until he passed. "

No one who knew him would have been surprised by this. All his life, Michael was one of those people who seem driven by rocket fuel. When he wasn’t out skiing, he was running Boston Marathons. When he wasn’t competing in marathons, he was taking part in AIDS rides. On top of all this, he threw great shindigs. " My favorite was a Christmas party, " recalls Waters. " There were guys dressed in pink and blue tuxedoes — basically what we wore to our proms — and the whole house was filled with tinsel and Christmas trees. That’s how I thought of Michael — larger than life. "

Somehow, despite his consuming career, his extensive activism, and his active social life, Michael always found time for his family. " One of the things I want people to know is what a great uncle he was, " says O’Brien, his younger sister. " He loved children. He and his partner, Mark [Kohler], were going to have a child — they looked into adopting. He would have been a great daddy. He was just really great fun, and silly. "

O’Brien has a story she likes to tell, from back in the mid 1970s, when her brother worked as a bouncer at a Kenmore Square nightclub. " One night Michael was up all night working, " she recalls. " The next day, I didn’t have school, so Michael comes and says, ‘Come on, we’re going skiing.’ He’d had no sleep, but off he went with his sister. He looked out for me. "

Michael’s father, naturally, is overwhelmed by the passing of his son — too overwhelmed to talk about it. " Mike’s life, " he writes, " was too short. " And yet surely there is some comfort in the fact that Michael lived such a caring, fun-filled, action-packed life. As David Waters puts it, " Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all left the kind of legacy Michael left behind? "