Gene Ray Daugherty died on November 19, 2024, age 77.

Born August 3, 1947, Gene grew up in Wellsboro, PA, the youngest son of James and Elberta Daugherty. At age 13, Gene got his first of many jobs as a caddy at a local country club and as an attendant at a drive-in theater that was just down the road from his family home. He would eventually use his wages to buy a motorbike that he hid from his mother at a friend's house. At age 14, in October of 1961, he became the youngest Eagle Scout in his region, a fact of great pride for Gene and his family.

Years and many good decisions (such as learning to fly and owning an array of James Bond-esque vehicles) and less than ideal decisions later (driving an array of James-Bond vehicles too fast and other shenanigans that are not fit for print), Gene enrolled at Mansfield University in the fall of 1965. It was here where he met his wife, Linda Corl, while trying to copy from her in an introductory art history class. As a deeply intelligent man, his motives may have extended beyond getting a sure-fire A.

Upon graduating with a Bachelor's degree in Social Science, Gene and Linda married and welcomed the arrival of their first born, Tracey (b. 1970). Bouncing between the Florida Keys, northern & central Pennsylvania, and later Van Etten, a small, rural town in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York, Gene (he who was so fond of saying, "there are a lot of ways to make a living") successfully navigated careers in sales, teaching (earning his Master's from Elmira College), and financial consultation (where he was regionally and nationally recognized). His storytelling skills and sense of humor made him great at the art of persuasion. As a natural salesman, he loved The Music Man as much as a good set-it-and-forget-it infomercial. And blessed with a smooth radio voice, he gave weekly market updates and once played The Shadow—delighting in scaring his listeners with the sinister laugh.

The bulk of his non-work time was spent building a home in the woods, where a trailer was moved and reconstructed; where trees were chopped, moved, moved again, and burned for warmth; and where a soon-to-be fish-filled pond was dug out of the landscape. As this space and home took further shape, so did his family with the birth of a son, Jesse (b. 1981). It was a beautiful home and time.

Gene contentedly retired in 2000, where in 2007 he and Linda began traveling to and from Florida as snow "I'll-be-damned-if-I-ever-shovel-again" birds. Though a love for three out of the four seasons of central New York never faltered, their cabin in the woods was sold in February of 2020, and a move to the year-long warmth of Zephyrhills was made permanent.

Wherever he resided, though, Gene/Dad/Grandpa/Pop Pop was an independent and introspective sort to be sure, who never failed to communicate his thoughts in his own way. Whether a raised eyebrow, a smirk, a nod, a secretive aside, an oft-repeated list of to-do's, or even a comment about the distant weather of a friend or family member that he had looked up, monitored, analyzed, and confidently reported on (though such reports occasionally conflicted with what was actually occurring outside of their respective window sills, an eventuality that would be met with an absolute surprise and insistent disbelief), he was unwavering in demonstrating his care, concern, love, and respect.

Gene appreciated history, science, and nature — each day was full of teaching moments, many that were subconsciously absorbed by students and family alike. He was never too busy to stop to save a turtle stuck in the middle of a road, or to stay up late to "discuss" life philosophies or WWII.

He hated clutter almost as much as he eschewed waste. An extremely driven person himself, he admired those who were authentic, organized, and hustled (be it third graders or peers). His mind was constantly whirring with how to work smarter and better.

He loved to travel familiar paths; lunches out with family; quiet evenings on the porch; building campfires and looking at the stars; visits to Walt Disney World; Notre Dame football, all things Irish; classic Steve McQueen movies; golfing (he agreed with Twain that it was a good walk spoiled); food, especially, a giant bowl of mussels and crusty bread; "helpfully" carrying his own Tabasco bottle to the tables and establishments of others; sending tailored Facebook messages such as cat photos, recipes, and jokes; making plans and orchestrating surprises for others; proudly watching videos of his grandchildren; and – most notably – his wife of fifty-four years who he cherished with all his might.

While his final years were affected by poor health, he was never alone or out of our thoughts. We hope that he knew that his was a life well lived; that his hard work never went unnoticed; that his generosity was unmatched; that we all wished he and we had said all the things loved ones should say to one another more; that we never took him, the life he helped shape and facilitate, or each other for granted.

So, in recognition of having used too many words about a man who practiced brevity of spoken and written expression, this is all just to say: Gene/Dad/Grandpa/Pop Pop, we will love and miss you always. Our memories of you are a blessing. You taught us well. You teach us still.

Gene is preceded in death by his parents James (1914-1999) and Elberta (1920-1998) Daugherty.

Gene is survived by his wife Linda Louise Corl Daugherty; his children Tracey Jane Daugherty and Jesse Patrick Daugherty (m. Valerie); grandchildren Oliver Holden Daugherty-Long, Harper Quinn Daugherty-Long, Finnegan Patrick Daugherty, and Maggie Rae Daugherty; and his brother James Daugherty Jr. (m. Roberta).

In lieu of flowers, please send a story and/or Guinness to his family, or plant a tree in his honor.