Walter Culkin Riley III

He was the father of Erin McGowan of Brisbane, Australia, and Sean Riley of McHenry Illinois; the son of the late Walter Culkin Riley, Jr. and Mary Jane Riley; brother of Ellen Riley Sloan of Oakton, VA; Janet Riley Mazariegos of Silver Spring, Maryland and the late Carol Ann Riley.

Sometimes in life, our strongest bonds are forged not in blood, but in friendship. Such was the case with Walt, who had a deep, close and perhaps unconventional relationship with his beloved, 25-year neighbor Robin Prater and her son, Ben, with whom he shared a beloved dog named Bailey.

Admittedly, many obituaries use glowing words like "beloved," "righteous" and upstanding, but Walt hated bullshit and he'd want his life story told honestly, so here goes.

When he was born in 1948, his mother was a new, adoring mother and called him 'Puddin', but his father and grandfather despised the name and dubbed him "Butch." That name stuck throughout his life.

During his childhood, he moved with his family from Chicago to Albany, New York, to Framingham, Massachusetts, back to Albany and back to Chicago. A creature of habit, he despised moving, but found connection in sports like basketball, football, baseball and hockey. He was aggressive on the basketball court at Cardinal McCluskey High School in Albany and known as "Roughhouse Riley." Later, he played locally for Conant High School, and the basketball team practically lived in his family's basement and remained lifelong friends.

During elementary school and early high school, he was educated in the Catholic school system. Academics were simply not his priority and his report cards often had notes from nuns writing of his need "to apply himself" and labelling him "lazy," but he made no apologies that despite his natural intelligence, he simply wasn't interested in spending time on schoolwork.

Still, Walt went to Northern Illinois University with his basketball team, majoring in physical education. But again, despite his natural athletic abilities, he was asked not to return, as were some of his basketball buddies. With the Vietnam War on, he enrolled quickly in the local junior college to avoid being drafted. One of his closest friends Al Ramsey did not reenroll and was drafted and killed within two weeks, an event that forever scarred Walt and which he struggled to discuss throughout his life.

In his second round of college, he encountered an encouraging Professor of Spanish who believed in him as no other teacher had, and with that support, he earned a degree in Spanish education, with honors. In the post-war U.S., No teaching jobs were available, and he became a mail carrier, thriving in the social aspects of delivering mail to the same Palatine, Illinois, neighborhood for more than 30 years. He passed up opportunities to apply for promotions, preferring the people on his route over a bigger title. He knew every man, woman, child and dog on his route, and the families threw a large party for him upon his retirement.

At the young age of 22, he married his high school sweetheart Debbie and had two children, Erin and Sean, but they divorced when the children were young. Walt acknowledged later in life that he was never suited to the responsibilities and tradition of marriage and fatherhood at that young age. Still, he was privately proud of his children, and deeply sorry that he had not been a better father to them.

Friends were an important part of his life. For 50 years, he took summer fishing trips to Wisconsin and Michigan, spending a treasured week with long-time friends Art, Dick, Scott, Dennis and Jim. Recently, he developed a close bond with the man he considered the best guitarist he ever knew, Harry Reinhart. He treasured weekly lessons from Harry and relished the opportunities to hear Harry play live. Harry performed live March 23 on Walt's guitar in tribute to his student and friend.

Walt also was an avid reader, fan of horse racing, union member, MSNBC-watcher, lifelong Democrat and he despised Donald Trump. He could be outspoken, blunt and short-tempered, especially after a few beers, but underneath it all he was deeply sensitive. Love songs on guitar, old family photos and a trip through high school yearbooks could cause tears to flow, as did his dog's recent illness and the touching academy award presentation to Da'Vine Randolph.

He requested no funeral (but we'll surely throw a party anyway to spite him - stay tuned) and he has donated his body to medical science. If you wish to honor his memory, his family suggests you play a Led Zeppelin tune, raise a glass high in his name and make a generous donation to the Biden for President Campaign.

And that's the story of Walter C. "Butch" Riley, III, who will be missed by many he touched along his life's path.