Charles Fillmore Hartley III

Charles Fillmore Hartley III (“Chas”), 83, was born on January 17, 1942, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and passed away peacefully in his sleep—“on his own terms”—at home in New Braunfels, Texas, on Monday, August 25, 2025. AT home with him was his self-proclaimed “favorite,” Charmaine C. Nelson, his son-in-law Saint Louis B. Nelson, and his step-grandson Erik T. Nelson—who, in addition to being the butt of his jokes, also served as loyal caretakers in his final years.

Chas was preceded in death by his loving parents, Charles F. Hartley II and Margaret Anna Hill, and his sister Anne Leacock.

He is survived by his wife, Lacey Bowen Hartley, who surely deserves a medal for the many years she somehow endured his shenanigans until he relocated to Texas in 2012. He is also survived by his five children (as far as we know): three sons—Robert Veland (wife Angeli Cruz Veland), Charles F. Hartley IV, and Chawn Hartley—and two daughters—Charmaine C. Nelson (husband Louis B. Nelson) and Christen H. Duhe.

“Charlie Boy” was a gentle and kind brother who acted as a mentor to his surviving sisters, Colleen Hartley, Cathleen Humphrey, and Mary Brackett. He was also the proud Grandpap of grandsons Nicholas B. Hayes, Erik T. Nelson, Matthew G. Veland, and Patrick Veland; granddaughters Kelsey Fabre Hayes, Katie Belle Hayes, and Christina Veland; and two great-grandsons, Gordon Isagani Veland and Gino Son Hayes. He is further remembered by his godson, John A. Bauer, and his oddly kindred spirit, Gabriela S. Thompson.

Chas was a proud graduate of Tulane University (’69), where he earned a Bachelor of Business Studies, and Loyola University New Orleans (’72), where he received his Master of Business Administration. He loved his Tulane Green Wave football and held season tickets for many years.

Dad taught us an important lesson: book smarts are not synonymous with common sense. For example, the word “indoor” on a can of toxic spray paint does not mean it can safely be used inside—something we learned the hard way when he nearly wiped out himself, my husband, my stepson, and the family dog, Astro. Other gems of wisdom included: wings are not dark meat; white patent leather shoes were never sexy; and no, falling asleep at your grandchildren’s graduations will not get you excused from attending the next one.

Much of his life was dedicated to being “out and about,” socializing and making people laugh. He will be remembered for his inappropriate humor, never going anywhere without a cigar, calling people “Moron,” and drinking gin martinis. He once took dance lessons at an Arthur Murray Studio, where he managed to mesmerize Cynthia E. Schaubhut into becoming his first wife. He was a great dancer, a good bowler, and a so-so gambler who loved betting on the horses. When he was good, he was good; when he was bad…well, you can fill in the blank.

He enjoyed marching in the Irish Channel St. Patrick’s Day Parade, handing out paper flowers from his “flower cane” to women (a.k.a. “broads”) in exchange for a kiss. He was a proud member of the Deutsches Haus in New Orleans and bowled faithfully on a Monday night league at Fiesta Lanes until earlier this year.

His favorite color was brown, his favorite animal was turtles, and his favorite things to watch were the Pittsburgh Steelers, professional bull riding, boxing, Fox News, Catholic Mass, and the Rosary. And last but not least, he was a staunch supporter of President Trump, and never left the house without wearing his D.O.G.E. hat—except on Monday evenings, when of course he wore his bowling hat covered in pins. His favorite artists included Johnny Cash, Johnny Mathis, and Dean Martin.

A few days before he passed, he said one of his last “funnies”:“Of all the beautiful places I have been, I can’t believe I have to die in Texas.”

In honor of the tawdry life Dad lived—and in penance for laughing at his not-so-politically-correct jokes—we ask that you agitate at least one person today (including yourself) by typing in ALL CAPS, just as he did. For good measure, light up a proper cigar (not the cheap ones he smoked), pour yourself a cocktail, laugh more, judge less, and do your best not to be a stick in the mud.

“Just a friendly reminder: the online Guestbook below the obituary and maps isn’t just sitting there for decoration. Use it—share a memory, a picture, or even a harmless insult or two.” Consider it your good deed of the day.

Family and friends are invited to attend a visitation on Thursday September 4, 2025 at 11:00 a.m. followed by Mass at 1:00 p.m. at St. Peters Catholic Church 125 E 19th Ave, Covington, LA 70433 with burial to follow in the St. Joseph Abbey Cemetery 75376 River Rd, St Benedict, LA 70457 

DONATIONS CAN BE MADE IN HIS MEMORY TO HOPE HOSPICE at hospice.net