Walter Thomas Carbaugh Jr.

Walter grew up in the rough and tumble boroughs of Pittsburgh. If you spent any length of time with him, you’d get the sense that he fought back a lot of demons and finally made peace with them. The lessons he learned in that fight served him well throughout his life. He’d probably argue with you that luck is made and worked for, not some fanciful gift of the universe. He served in the National Guard, and then worked as a switchman for the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad for 27 years, earning the nickname “Tiger” from his fellow workers for his tenacity.

He had an insatiable curiosity about the world, the universe, and what made it all tick. A gifted mechanical mind, he could be often found in his basement lab where he experimented with radio and computers, but he was also fascinated with people and what made them tick. We remember how he taught us how to do everything from changing the oil in the car to holding a hammer and building things. He understood math in an intrinsic way- from complex concepts to basic accounting- he knew the value of a dollar and how to use it all wisely. His curiosity and wisdom is a legacy for all of us.

His love for root beer and striped shirts was only surpassed by his love for movement- especially dancing. He was an accomplished roller skater as a young man and he and his wife Marilyn danced advanced squares and rounds for many decades just about every night of the week. He came alive dancing. If you caught him a quiet moment, it wouldn’t be unusual to hear some Sinatra or Cosby playing and Walter doing a bit of a soft shoe while he worked.

But perhaps, most of all, he is known by his quiet, steady love. His marriage to Marilyn was truly one of those rare, rare romances that comes only to the lucky. They were buddies and best friends through everything, thick and thin, indulging their love of travel and people watching whenever the chance arose. He was always there for his family in all manner of situations, showing up at grandchildren’s birthdays and graduations, supporting them in whatever they needed, often so quietly they didn’t even realize how much he was doing and providing for them. Grandchildren made it a goal to earn one of his big steady smiles and belly laughter- it would light up the whole room if you could manage it. Walter may argue that luck is made, not a gift, but we know differently. We were lucky enough to have the gift of him.