Joseph H. Trobaugh II

1946 - 2025

Joseph H. Trobaugh, II

July 26, 1946 - September 4, 2025

Don't call him Joe. Don't call him Joey. His name was Joseph H. Trobaugh II, 79, and in the morning hours on September 4, 2025 he entered the "Golden Years" at home surrounded by family and loved ones.

Born in July 26, 1946 he was the eldest of three sons to Joseph H Trobaugh I and Marjorie "Echo" Trobaugh, Joseph carried his family's name with pride and passed it down to his son, Joseph H. Trobaugh III. He also raised another son, Tori Allen Trobaugh, who carries forward his wit and spirit. His younger brother John survives him, and he was preceded in death by his middle brother, Tommy.

If you knew him, you knew better than to shorten his name. He was Joseph-not Joe, not Joey-and he'd make sure you remembered it. Just as he'd tell you not to call him a hippie; in his words, "hippies were lazy, and I am not lazy." He lived a life stitched together with beach sand, tie-dye stains, and the hum of the open road. A truck driver by trade, he navigated life much like he did the highways-refusing to stay within the lines. His motto before heading out anywhere was simple: "I'll get there when I get there." And he did-always on Joseph Time.

When he wasn't behind the wheel, you could find him barefoot on the Sarasota and Key beaches, tie-dyeing T-shirts with friends (the crowd somehow always grew), tossing horseshoes, or scheming over a cribbage board. Backgammon was another favorite, though don't ask him to teach a 6-year-old... trust us, it didn't end well.

Throughout his lifetime Joseph worked many jobs: painting, wallpapering, in the steel mill, driving both milk and produce trucks and at Carlisle Country Market, but no matter the gig, he brought the same steady presence, quiet mischief, and knack for turning work into stories. Joseph loved motorcycles, his last, a Harley, suited him perfectly. He loved animals, especially his loyal dog Callie, and once owned horses, including one infamous black horse who, let's just say, had a personality of her own.

And yes, he loved pot. Not in a reckless way, but in the kind of way that made life a little lighter, a little funnier, a little more "elevated." He was a man who took his time, did things his way, and never let anyone rush him into being ordinary. In the end, Joseph reminded us that life doesn't need to be hurried; it just needs to be lived, fully, colorfully, and unapologetically. So if you want to honor him, put on a tie-dye shirt, roll the dice on a cribbage board, take the long way with an atlas in the passenger seat, and don't worry if you're running late. After all, you'll get there when you get there.

Arrangements Entrusted to the Care of Central PA Cremation Society, Inc.