Alan Thomas

Alan Charles Thomas, 69, passed away on August 23, 2025. He grew up in Burnt Hills, New York, alongside his sister Sue and their late parents, Charles and Shirley Thomas. During his years there, he formed lifelong friendships.

After graduating with high honors from Burnt Hills Ballston Lake High School in 1974, he

completed a BS from Clarkson and later an MS from RPI. During a very distinguished career at IBM, Alan had 33 patents, 37 publications, multiple Outstanding Technical Achievement Awards, and retired with 43 years of dedicated service.

While his career was very important, he was happiest spending time with his family, friends, and numerous volunteer organizations. He spent much of his time with the Beacon Sloop Club and Clearwater. Many remember him for his work on the Sloop Club's Broadside periodical, managing memberships, sailing, and festival chili. As many will attest, however, he would happily jump in to help in any way he could (but not without adding his own two cents). His love of the arts and literature brought him to The County Players at the Falls Theater where he could often be found building sets for various productions, and to the Poughkeepsie Public Library Friends Bookstore where he was responsible for the science section. This dedication won Alan a President's Lifetime Achievement Award from the Corporation for National Community Service under President Barack Obama in 2014. He was a lifelong Sierra Club member.

Alan was a wonderful husband and father. He took great joy in his family, friends, and community involvement. He leaves so very many happy memories. Somehow he made everything possible. He was a softie. He saved every single thing his son or daughter ever made.

As a brother, Alan put up with much pestering from his annoying little sister (not always with good grace) and was always on the go-whiffle ball in the street, Little League, bowling league, tennis, collecting rocks for the museum in the basement, and melting a sizeable hole in his desktop with his chemistry set. As adults he and Sue became good friends, with shared interests in folk music, the outdoors, literature, photography and hiking, and swapped many books on Polar exploration. They texted photos of their adventures daily, along with obscure Monty Python references and news of the kids. His passing leaves a hole in the family that can't be filled.

On paper he checked off all the father-son boxes: he would put the worm on the hook when fishing in the Adirondacks, he hung a wiffleball from a tree in the backyard to work on the perfect T-ball swing, coached little league fall ball (and let Rob play whatever position he wanted, regardless of skill), brought an eager 11 year old to his first rock concert, attended endless school concerts, the list goes on and on.

However, many of the best memories came from the in-between. Driving around listening to Car Talk and Wait Wait…Don't Tell Me! on Sundays, insisting on making smoothies healthy for family movie nights, celebrating extremely average basketball stats, playing hooky to bring Rob to receive an Environmental Protection Agency award, or excitedly trying every new recipe learned in home ec class that week. His influence has led Rob to a life of loving nature, baseball, sailing on old wooden boats, digital and film photography, kitchen "experiments," and occasional stubbornness when he has a specific plan envisioned in his head. Thirteen year old Rob would shiver at the thought of growing up to be exactly like his father, but as he's gotten older he's come to cherish the similarities.

As a father he showed his love through both the smallest gestures and the greatest sacrifices. He was the man who always let his daughter, Katherine, choose the family dog-even when he wasn't sure he wanted one. Josie, the dog they have today, is a reminder of how her happiness was always among his first priorities.

Some of the most cherished memories come from the simplest routines: Wednesday night dinners during college, just the two of them catching up. That tradition became their special time together. There were also evenings spent watching the Yankees-sometimes celebrating, sometimes commiserating. He was the dad who almost always said "yes," or at least gave a grumbled "okay," whether it was another shopping trip or a new adventure. He just wanted his loved ones to enjoy life.

Above all, he was a provider who gave freely of himself and never asked for anything in return. His steady presence, generosity, and quiet kindness will be deeply missed. The love he gave will continue to live on in the hearts of his family and friends.

In lieu of flowers, friends and family might consider a donation in Alan's name to one of the following organizations:

The Hudson River Sloop Clearwater

The Beacon Sloop Club

Or a charity of your choice