Obituary of Charles Herriot Burkart

Charles “Chuck” Burkart, a passionate lifelong learner who collected Asian art, military memorabilia, and books as carefully as he assembled a small, devoted circle of friends, passed away on Oct 7, 2019. He was 68.

As a child, Chuck was shy, awkward, untalkative. His mind, however, was a sponge, with endless curiosity and capacity for knowledge. He became a lively conversationalist and an exceptional listener. His appearance was disheveled, and photos of Chuck are few. Memories of his wisdom, kindness, and genuine concern for others, though, live on with those who knew him.

“Learning of his passing is disheartening,” said friend Kyla Lucas, “as the world will be lacking the greatness of his outwardly grumpy, but inwardly sweet, soul.”

Friends and family are invited to attend a memorial service conducted by the Rev. Alexander Jalso at 1 p.m. Wednesday, Oct 30 at The Villages of Heritage Point. Though Chuck had been living there for several months, “home” was still on Anderson Avenue in Morgantown.

That home was filled with Japanese sculptures and paintings, thousands of classical music and opera CDs, Communist art collectibles, artifacts from World Wars I and II, and room after room of books.

Alan Farber met Chuck through an advertisement, founding their friendship on a shared fascination with military history and collectibles. For the next 30 years, they spent Saturdays at shows with fellow collectors and historians. Many weekends, Chuck sat in Alan’s shop, researching and identifying found items. Discussions with Alan and his wife covered everything under the sun. “We will miss Chuck's wealth of knowledge, and most of all, his friendship.”

Chuck spent more than four decades working in higher education, with about 20 years at West Virginia University. He had titles: Researcher, A/V Specialist, Teacher, Librarian. Those labels, however, didn’t begin to measure the man.

“His knowledge was encyclopedic. To say that he was a voracious reader would be putting it mildly,” said John Cuthbert. “He was also a voracious listener, with a knowledge of classical music repertory that would put most music professors to shame. He was a keen observer of world affairs, politics, and mankind in general, in the broadest sense as well as on a personal level.”

Chuck loved beauty and nature, too, often telling John that some of his happiest days were those that the two men spent at John’s cabin on a New Hampshire lake.

Chuck was the first friend that Alex Jalso, son of the pastor, made when he started working at WVU. Their boss played matchmaker, correctly figuring the two would get along. Decades later, Chuck supported Alex as he went through a difficult divorce. “He'd listen, give advice, share words of wisdom and encouragement, and he never passed judgment.”

What Alex may miss most, however, are the “entertaining and enlightening” debates between Chuck, his ultra-conservative best friend, and Rowan, his unabashedly liberal daughter. Rowan so appreciated Chuck's knowledge that he is a source on her graduate school admission writings. 

Chuck’s wry sense of humor made Penny Pugh laugh more than any colleague she’s ever had. But he also had remarkable insight and often interpreted dreams she couldn’t untangle on her own. “I asked him all in fun, but he was always spot on with his analysis -- sometimes to my complete astonishment and embarrassment.”

Jo Brown, a fellow reference librarian, worked with Chuck as he transitioned the obsolete cassette-tape film collection to a modern DVD collection, taught a Research Methods class to undergraduates, and devoted his weekly share of face-to-face public service hours at the Reference Desk. Before retiring, he even co-taught an online film course, sharing his expertise on Westerns. “Chuck was well-read, even an autodidact.”

Go ahead. Look that word up: Autodidact. He’d want you to.

Chuck knew a little, sometimes a lot, about everything. He would sidle into Jo’s office, pull up a chair, and coax him into sharing a travelogue. When Jo once tried to describe a visit to obscure Leadville, Colorado, Chuck launched into a history of the town by describing its 19th-century opera house and inspired opera, “The Ballad of Baby Doe.”

Molly Burkhart became friends with Chuck when the two were college students before she married his older brother, Jim. She laughed at Chuck’s quick wit and appreciated how he used sarcasm and humor to cope with unpleasant or awkward situations.

Molly and Chuck became allies, often stuck outside conversations between Jim and his father. Although their presence was required for these chats, their participation wasn’t. There were only ever three subjects anyway: sports, “busy-ness” (Chuck's take on the word business), and roads -- as in which road was getting extended and which was a waste of money.

For 50 years, every visit between Chuck and Molly ended the same. He would stand and say, “OK, let’s get the kissing and hugging over with.”

“I will miss him,” Molly said, “and always think of him as I hug and kiss someone goodbye.”