Herbert Stanford Why, Jr., age 94, passed away peacefully on April 15, 2026—a fitting date, as "tax day" was a day he spent a lifetime trying to outsmart (with mixed results).

Born and raised in Wyncote, Pennsylvania, Herbert began his early career as an altar boy at All Hallows Church—long before moving on to more earthly challenges. He graduated from Cheltenham High School and earned his degree in civil engineering from Bucknell University. He proudly served in the United States Army during the Korean War and later returned to Bucknell to complete his master's degree.

Herbert worked for Ingersoll Rand, DuPont, and later at Wilmington Trust in the wire transfer department. In the 1970s, he and his wife Nancy opened a bridal and tuxedo shop in North Wilmington, where they spent 25 years helping others look their best—while Herbert perfected the art of conversation with anyone who walked through the door.

Retirement, in true Herbert fashion, was not entirely retirement. He spent time as a substitute teacher in the Brandywine School District, where students likely received both education and at least a few unsolicited stories.

Herbert was predeceased by his beloved wife Nancy (2008), his daughter Anne (2010), and his brother Henry "Hank" Why (2021).

He is survived by his sons, Christopher Scott Why (Virginia) of Dover, Delaware, and Bradley Stanford Why (Erica Lynn) of Emerald Isle, North Carolina; his grandchildren, Noah Stanford Why, Hunter Debartolemeis, and Christopher Renai; and his nieces and nephews, Leslie Why, Gregory Why, and Andrew Why, along with many grandnieces and grandnephews.

Herbert lived a long life—something he made sure to remind everyone of regularly, especially over the last decade. He will be remembered for his truly terrible jokes, his relentless puns, and his legendary ability to tell a story so long that you'd forget the beginning before he reached the end… if he ever reached the end. And just when you thought you'd heard it before—you had—because he told it again. And again. And again.

We wouldn't have had it any other way.

Until we see you again, Dad—rest peacefully, and please try not to keep everyone in heaven too long with your stories.