Charles Halstead

Our father, Charles “Chuck” Halstead, passed away peacefully on Sunday morning, June 9, 2024, in his room at Meadowlark Assisted Living Facility in Columbus. Mortality finally caught up with him.

Dad was a complicated man, a different man depending on who recounts their memories of him. He had a gruff side from the get-go and personified “road “rage” before the term came into our lexicon. But as the decades passed – and particularly as he cared for my mother through eight years of her Alzheimer's -- he revealed a kinder, but still grumbly, side.

He was rarely demonstrative but choked up every time he spoke of the dog he had to give away in his youth. He reveled in telling his own stories – especially tales about his time in the service -- and was famous for retelling the same vignettes over and over.

He was a collector of guns and books, particularly on war and weapons, and he amassed stacks upon stacks of National Geographics. He was a lover of Snicker bars, jelly-filled donuts and a self-appointed connoisseur of open sesame pie. He was a man who preferred his prime rib as bloody as possible and liked his beer – occasionally accompanied by a “shooter” of whiskey. Our father favored fast cars – he once owned a 1965 Mustang convertible and later a red-hot Datsun 240Z – and raunchy magazines.

Dad was born on August 8, 1925, to William and Minnie Hibbard Halstead in the Keuka Lake area of Upstate New York. He was their fourth son and was later joined by one younger sister. Known as “Gene” during his youth, Chuck graduated from Hammondsport High School and soon joined the

Army Air Corps. He was just wrapping up fighter pilot training when World War II ended. After returning to civilian life, he married Mary Lou Kadian in 1952 in Olean, New York. Within seven years their family had grown by four children: Chip, Linda, Nancy and Bill.

Dad spent his career working as a purchasing agent for Corning Glass Works in Corning, New York. When he retired, he and Mary Lou wasted little time making the move to Columbus, Mt., where they created new lives and enjoyed their circle of friends. It was there that Chuck took on a new persona. As a first-time grandfather who had no desire to be called “grandpa,” he adopted the nickname “Gumby.”

After our mother passed in 2011, Gumby revealed yet another facet: he fancied himself a ladies' man. During his six-plus years at Meadowlark, he was surrounded by staff with whom he constantly flirted – and who gave him the best possible and most personal care anyone could wish for their father.

Lastly, it was also at Meadowlark where he met his special friend, Dorothy Hill, who gave him hours of company and kept him on his toes.

The stories could go on forever. They will live on through us, his four children Chip (Kristi) Halstead, Linda (Bharat) Halstead-Acharya, Nancy (Jim) Coates and Bill (Sandy) Halstead; and through his grandchildren Akku and Jasi Acharya, Milagre Coates and Harrison Halstead.

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