My
Dad's name is Gary Lee Whaley. He was
born on January 27, 1936 in Erie,
Pennsylvania. He is survived by three sons,
Geoffrey Lee of Palmer Alaska, Gregory Lee of
Punta Gorda, Florida (they are twins) and Todd
Alan of Harbor Creek, Pennsylvania; one
daughter, Julie Ann Foster of Erie,
Pennsylvania and of course my Mom, Norma Jean
Whaley of Harbor Creek, Pennsylvania.
He was
an avid outdoorsman, spending most of his free
time hunting, fishing or playing golf. After
retiring from Jerry's Sports Center (he was a
buyer) in Scranton, Pennsylvania in 1999, he
and my Mom moved back to the Erie area. He
then shared his time between here and Florida.
His
biggest dream was to be able to provide for
his kids and grand kids. When he was with my
little girl, Harleigh (she is 3) he just
turned into this big marshmallow. He used to
say "isn't it funny how a little baby can turn
a grown man into bowl of Jell-O". He always
wanted all of his kids to be happy, and if
something was wrong or bothering us, he did
his best to fix it. I remember my brother
Greg's wife saying that when Greg was in a bad
mood or all worked up about something she
would call my Dad and hand Greg the phone
because Dad had a calming effect on him. He
was the most laid-back, easy-going man I have
ever known - it took a lot to get him angry -
unless it was a home improvement project, then
forget about it!
Some
of the things he collected were guns, knives
and golf clubs. He had more golf clubs than
Arnold Palmer! Many of the reps he worked with
over the years would give him collectors
knives in display cases to hang on the wall.
One of them ( I think he was from Winchester)
had a rifle specially designed for him as a
retirement gift. So you can see he was highly
thought of both personally and professionally.
My Dad
was staying at a hotel in Scranton, PA on
December 18, 2000. He was visiting some old
friends in the area. My father was at the
hotel with a woman, whose name I cannot
mention due to legal reasons and pending
charges against her as an accomplice, when her
husband, whom I can't mention either due to
the same reasons, confronted my Dad.
There
had been other confrontations between this man
and my Dad in the past when Dad was down in
Scranton for golf tournaments and just to
visit. These confrontations were somewhat
physical with the man telling my Dad in front
of witnesses that if he ever saw my Dad again
he would kill him.
On the
day of the 18th at the hotel, this man went
after my father. My Dad was 6' tall and
only weighed 158 lbs. and his killer is 6'5
and weighs approximately 350 lbs.
According to the neurosurgeon who worked on my
father, he hit him with something causing
irreparable brain damage. Dad underwent three
brain surgeries to no avail and lingered in a
coma for six weeks until he died on January
31, 2001.
The
police, District Attorney and all of our
family know who did this but charges still
have not been filed because people are afraid
to testify against him. If there is anybody
out there who witnessed this please, I beg you
to come forward.
~Julie
Foster
