Obituary of Joseph Anthony Uhrig

Joseph Anthony Uhrig, 56, of Mountain Lakes, N.J., passed peacefully in his sleep on April 12, 2020. Joe was born on July 10, 1963, in San Antonio, Texas, to Dr. Jerome (Jerry) Uhrig and the late Josephine Garcia Uhrig and is survived by beloved son, Timothy Joseph Uhrig, father, Jerry Uhrig (Lynn), nine siblings—Karen, Lisa (Larry), Emily (Keith), Theresa, Patrick, Robert (Tara), Matthew (Stacey), Christopher (Sherry), and Adrienne (Tom)—and thirteen nieces and nephews. Joe was a genuine people person, truly relishing the prosaic details of the lives of those he knew and loved. No detail was too small or insignificant. Many of us (his siblings) scattered across the country in pursuit of our passions. But through Joe, we were able to maintain a sense of place regarding our childhood. He was forever catching us up on local news, telling us about childhood friends he had run into, and at times even surprising us with spontaneous, on-the-spot phone calls so we could reconnect. Joe collected stories like a child collects shells on a beach, each precious and unique. Decades after, he could recount a conversation with a friend as if it had just happened. He described most everyone, it seemed, as “a good friend of mine…” Above all else, Joe cherished his son. Tim was, in a word, his world, his proverbial pride and joy. From the beginning, Joe relished every minute of fatherhood, taking Tim to parks, historic landmarks, zoos and aquariums, teaching him to appreciate the natural world and about science and math, through projects, puzzles, games, and other activities. When Tim earned a full academic scholarship to Ohio State, his alma mater, Joe was overjoyed. Joe absorbed without judgment the human experience around him, understood in his bones the struggle and joy of being human. By nature, he was mischievous, wildly creative, and a relentless teaser and raconteur. As the oldest son, he was something of a ringleader in childhood, with mischief conjured up by his abundant imagination and his younger siblings, his eager accomplices. Joe had an irreverent sense of humor and a willingness to push boundaries, which led to many antics, some of which did not end so well. (But in later years, they sure provided entertaining stories to recall at family gatherings.) One year, in the spirit of fire safety week at school, Joe decided we should have a fire drill to practice escaping from the third floor of our Hapgood house, where most of us slept. Our mother returned from the grocery store mid-drill to find her kids draped down the front of the three-story house, with toddlers being handed down to the second-story balcony by older siblings. (The plan was for everyone then to scale down the pine tree that brushed up against the balcony to get to “safety.” But sadly, the “drill” got called off.) When it came to teasing, Joe went big and nothing was off the table. He took time to get to know people. But once he knew and trusted a person, he had a way of using his sense of humor to poke fun at things that were untouchable to the rest of us. This was part of his charm. Like any skilled comic, Joe’s expressions were priceless. When his eyebrow lifted and his lips puckered, we always knew something was coming. He also understood that every good story required a healthy dose of embellishment to take it off the page. Joe was hilarious, often skirting the line of outrageous, deploying comic relief at the most inopportune–and arguably, inappropriate–times. (As kids, he had a habit of cracking us up during church services. His tactics were many.) His trademark sense of humor was part of the air he breathed, forever with him, and over the years, helped to get us through even the toughest of times, particularly the sudden loss of our beloved mother in 1994. Joe was also brilliant. Mathematics, in particular, was something he seemed simply to intuit. And though he initially set out to become an engineer, ultimately, he found his calling working with his hands, in time settling into a career in high-end home remodeling and construction. He loved the creativity, energy, freedom, and interaction with people that the work afforded. An avid devourer of current events and documentaries alike, any conversation with Joe often detoured into a detailed account of something he had just read or watched. You had no choice but to engage, to learn, and to be educated. In addition, Joe was a gifted runner who walked on to the Ohio State track team as a freshman. His love of running was a thread that ran throughout his life. (We suspect that our mother may have bought him his first pair of running shoes to get him to expend some of his abundant energy. Regardless, the ploy took.) He knew every inch of trail in the Tourne Valley, a place he sought out for solace throughout his life. A fisherman who always threw back his catch, Joe spent countless hours on the many lakes that gave our town its name. Sharing that passion with his father, brothers, nieces, and nephews brought him tremendous joy. (That said, we do recall from our youth his wayward cast of a baited line that inadvertently pierced our dad’s ear, preempting the annual Trout Derby with a trip to the ER.) A big kid at heart, Joe never lost the art of play, which made him a really fun big brother and a favorite uncle. Every small child he met was an opportunity to engage: His standard kid greeting involved a scoop up and flip upside down, which always evoked peals of laughter. A devoted fan of the Muppet Show, even in college Joe would arrange his schedule to never miss an episode. And on a visit home, he spirited his youngest three siblings, bucket of KFC in hand, to the local theater to see their first film, “The Muppet Movie.” In recent years, as his nephews and nieces grew older, Joe became a regular at their basketball and soccer games, cheering on the kids of family and friends as if they were his own. Every accomplishment of those he loved was his own to celebrate. For our father, Joe was also the eldest son and one who stayed close. The two had a special bond. In childhood, Joe was our father’s “assistant” with everything from car repairs to home and yard projects. This past year, he moved into the home of our dad and his wife, Lynn and took charge of numerous home projects to make them more comfortable. Most recently, with the pandemic and their self-isolation, he brought them groceries, even left a birthday rose on our mother’s grave when, for the first time in 25 years, our father was unable to do so. Joe, we will miss those great big bear hugs that would lift your sisters off the ground, your smile and infectious laugh, the perpetual twinkle in your eye, and that heart that knew no bounds. Peace. In the interest of public health, services are being delayed and a public memorial will be scheduled in the future. Arrangements are with Gallaway & Crane Funeral Home, Basking Ridge and tributes can be made on their website https://gcfuneralhome.com/. Please keep the family in your prayers at this difficult time. In lieu of flowers, the family would be grateful for donations to Habitat for Humanity (https://www.habitat.org/).