Charles “Charlie” Armstrong Hall

January 27, 1936 – August 15, 2025

It is with heavy hearts that my brother Ken and I said goodbye to Dad on August 15, 2025. He filled his eighty-nine years with such a remarkable amount of life, and it’s been hard to capture all that he was in words. He loved being “Grandpa” to his granddaughter, Najda and although he didn’t get to see him often,  his great grandson Lincoln always brought a smile to his face through stories, pictures and videos.  Dad carried that same quiet love of family through every chapter of his life.

At only 18, Dad set out to see the world by joining the United States Air Force. Most of his time was spent in England and Africa, where he worked as a jet fighter mechanic. He loved his years overseas—buying a couple of cars, discovering Benny Hill’s comedy, and sparking what would become a long time love of photography. He experimented with artistic photography and even worked as a staff photographer for the Air Force newspaper.  We often talked about photography but he never mentioned that he had done that.  Ken and I found some newspaper articles that credited him with the photos.  When he returned home, he continued serving in the Reserves for another four years.

Dad’s love of flight carried through the rest of his life. At 21, he earned his private pilot’s license, and not long after, joined his brother Joe and our grandfather in buying a PA-11 Cub Special. Later, he tackled an even bigger challenge—building a Van’s RV-4 airplane from scratch. It was a true labor of patience, precision, and skill. His neighbor, an FAA inspector, encouraged him to pursue his A&P license. His Air Force work counted toward the power plant portion, and the RV-4 counted toward the airframe. When it came time for the written test, Dad discovered it was on a computer—something he had little experience with. As he later told Ken, he finished the whole thing but forgot to hit “save.” The proctor offered to let him reschedule, but he asked, “How much time do I have left?” and she mentioned he still had 15–30 minutes left, Dad just smiled and said, “I’ll take it now.” He started over, this time pressed save, and passed. It was classic Dad—determined, calm, and steady.

Professionally, Dad began his career in aviation with Piedmont Airlines in Parkersburg, West Virginia. That job changed everything, because through a friend at the airport, he was introduced to Mom on a blind date. The two quickly fell in love, starting a marriage and family life full of love, laughter, and devotion.

After 33 years with Piedmont—and later USAir, after they purchased Piedmont—Dad retired. But retirement didn’t stick. Within a year, he was back at it, finding a second career as a lab technician in the aviation program at Guilford Technical Community College. For nearly 25 years, he shared his knowledge and passion with students, especially enjoying the chance to step in and teach the sheet metal class he knew so well.

When he retired for the second time, Dad leaned into his artistic side. He had painted cars and planes before, but had always thought he might like canvas painting. Inspired by watching Bob Ross, he bought some brushes and paints and dove in. He painted what he loved most—airplanes, his first car, the family farm, and the landscapes of West Virginia and Montana. He especially treasured trips out West to see his brother Joe and family, and those visits often found their way onto his canvases. Not long after moving into Brookridge Retirement Community, he held his first art exhibition, perfectly titled Memories. Family and friends came from near and far, and residents joined in too—it was such a celebration of his creativity and he really enjoyed sharing it.

Dad’s creativity continued throughout his life.  An artist since he was young, sketching, designing, and building with a natural vision and skill. Then photography, he even enjoyed developing his own pictures for years. At home, he was always improving something: drawing up plans and then building additions, sewing rooms, workshops, decks, and porches, he renovated our kitchen three times. He always made time to help family and friends with their projects as well, and was quick to offer any tool he might have to make a project go smoother.

Though he was a quiet man, Dad’s smile came easily, and his humor was unforgettable. He loved practical jokes—especially the remote-control whoopie cushion that always showed up at the perfect moment. His personal style was simple and steady: white shirts, black or blue slacks, white socks, and black shoes. He didn’t own a pair of tennis shoes until well into his 60s.

Dad was smart, talented, and endlessly resourceful. He lived with integrity, loved his family deeply, and found joy in both the small moments and the grand adventures.

His generous spirit carried through to the end. He chose to be a body donor for Wake Forest University School of Medicine, one last gift of service. He didn’t want a funeral, but asked that anyone who wished to honor him consider giving to causes close to his heart—St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, where he donated faithfully every month for over 50 years, and the Cure Alzheimer’s Fund.

Most of all, Dad wanted to be remembered through stories. If you have a memory of him, we would love for you to share it!

Charles (Charlie) Armstrong Hall was a son, brother, husband, father, uncle, grandfather, and great-grandfather. His eighty-nine years were well lived, and we are grateful for every moment we shared with him.

We love you, Dad.

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