Raymond Hathaway

If you ever heard someone holler across a gym, "Hey Hairbag!" there was a 100% chance it was Ray, grinning like a kid who knew exactly what he was doing. (Just ask James Monty.) His nicknames stuck, his timing was impeccable, and his teasing-though relentless-was always rooted in affection.

Born on Independence Day in Elizabethtown, NY, Ray made sure everyone knew the fireworks were really for him-often telling people he'd give them the day off work for his birthday. He passed away on March 27, 2025, in Westport, NY, at the age of 83 - and we're pretty sure the referees across the Adirondacks breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Ray was the son of Gordon and Lillian Hathaway, both of whom shaped his love of storytelling, hard work, and sports. He was a lifelong Westport resident, expert carpenter, proud Army veteran, and a certified character. He spent his early years honing his craft alongside his uncles Jr. and Kenny, building houses across the Adirondacks.

Family car rides often turned into unsolicited home tours: "I built that house with Jr. and Kenny..." and so on. His final career was at Treadwell's, where he didn't just work - he found family. His bond with the Treadwells, especially Mrs. Treadwell, was deep, genuine, and enduring. He took her on rides, shared countless visits, and still kept her photo on his mantle.

Ray had a gift for nicknames - the weirder, the better. If he gave you a title, you wore it for life, whether you liked it or not. He took great joy in pushing buttons, teasing people just enough to irritate them, then sitting back to enjoy the show. But under all that playful mischief was a big heart. He delivered maple syrup to his dentist, bought pizza for high school athletes, and played Santa for his grandkids. He was stubborn, loud, wildly opinionated - and incredibly kind.

He was also a sports superfan. Ray loved the Dodgers and would proudly tell stories of his father, Gordon Hathaway, catching for Johnny Podres when Johnny still lived in Moriah. Soccer brought out his competitive side too - especially when trash-talking with his granddaughter over whose team was better. (Go Red Bulls!)

High school sports were his passion. You'd find his red truck parked at games hours before they started so he could snag the best spot. He sat in the same seat at Boquet Valley Central basketball games for so long, they gave him a plaque. He cheered hard - for his grandkids and for every kid on the team. His booming voice was legendary. Sure, he got kicked out of a few games... but only because the refs clearly needed his glasses.

Ray was a proud hunter, teaching his grandkids about the rules of camp, respect for the animals, and how to properly tell a tall tale. He was fiercely patriotic - he loved his country, loved veterans, and served during the Vietnam Era. His involvement with North Country Honor Flight meant a lot to him, and he was thrilled to take part in one of the flights himself.

Ray was preceded in death by his daughter Kalene Hathaway. He is survived by his children Kent Hathaway, Tricia Hart (and her husband Dan Hart), and Greg Hathaway (and his wife Katherine Lennahan); his beloved grandchildren; and a whole cast of friends (some still answering to their Ray-given nicknames).

He is also survived by his faithful cat Willis, who rarely left his side - especially when there was pound cake involved. Willis brought Ray comfort, companionship, and the occasional stolen bite of dessert.

To know Ray was to laugh, roll your eyes, and probably get a new name you didn't ask for. But it was also to be cared for in a quiet, loyal, maple-syrup-and-pizza kind of way.

A celebration of Ray's life will be held at a later date and at the place he loved most. In lieu of flowers, yell "Let's go Red Bulls!" at a soccer game, give your barber a nickname they can't shake, or show up two hours early to cheer on your local team - just like Ray would've.

Services were entrusted to Heidrick Funeral Home, PO Box 188, 7521 Court St., Elizabethtown, NY 12932.