Robert J. Ingraham

Robert Ingraham passed away on July 29, 2026, just two days after his 77th birthday, in Ellensburg, Washington. Rob had a wonderfully improbable life that included acting, writing, museums, the military police, disaster monitoring, questionable apartment living, legendary letters, fondue of uncertain quality, and putting a number of surprising things on his head.

Rob was born, the second of four children, to (Ruth) Beverly and Philip Ingraham in New York. He was a proud alumnus of PS 36 on Staten Island and later followed his big brother Phil to Brooklyn Technical High School. After a year or two at the University of Bridgeport in Connecticut, Rob once again followed Phil, this time into the Army during the Vietnam War. Luckily, Rob served as an MP at West Point, where the most dangerous action he saw was directing traffic on football game days.

After the Army, Rob enrolled at SUNY New Paltz, where he discovered his love of acting. He moved to Poughkeepsie and took up residence at the “Mill Street Hilton,” a rundown apartment that was home at different times to nearly all of his friends from that era and eventually to some of their children as well. In Poughkeepsie, Rob made his name on the stage – and in the kitchen – of The Old Coat dinner theatre. His one-man show as Mark Twain is still talked about to this day, while his work in the kitchen earned him renown (at least in his telling) for his fondue.

In the late 1970s Rob moved back to New York City to pursue his acting career. There he found a paying job behind the sales desk of the Whitney Museum. Eventually, he landed roles in legitimate theaters and shows, culminating with his swan song in 1983 in Steven Fechter’s play Schiele at the Ohio Theatre in SoHo. Meanwhile, the “temporary” sales desk job had morphed into one as head of security, managing a staff of museum guards who adored him for his unregimented, easy-going style. He met his wife, Joan, when she got a job at the Whitney in 1981. He took her to the circus on their first date, which set the tone for the rest of their lives together. They married in 1987 and enjoyed big city life and tiny apartment living for the next 39 years.

Being a man of letters at heart, Rob traded museum security for journalism in 1984. He took an entry-level position with a trade publication covering the utility industry – even though he knew absolutely nothing about it – just to break into professional writing. After learning on the job, he was hired by McGraw-Hill where, over the course of a 15-year tenure, he ended up as chief editor of their energy business publications. For the final ten years of his working life, Rob was a watch officer for FEMA, monitoring and assessing national and global disasters, natural or otherwise.

Rob was deeply committed to his Christian faith, serving on the Board of Trustees of The City Church and later on the vestry of the Church of the Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, both in New York City.

Writing was Rob’s great passion. His poems stand out among his writing, which also included full-length plays, shorter pieces, and countless letters. His letters were legendary: long, funny, thoughtful, and unmistakably Rob.

Rob loved his family and friends with every ounce of his being. They mattered more to him than any politics, religion or disagreements, and he would drop everything to do anything for them. He especially loved his nieces and nephews, including Joan’s, and doted on them and their children as though they were his own.

He loved to travel – Edinburgh and Venice being favorite destinations – and he delighted in visiting friends and family all around the country, from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon. He loved the outdoors and camping with his lifelong childhood friend, Al Nielsen, who preceded him in death from complications of the same Lewy body dementia as Rob.

And he loved putting things on his head. Baseball caps, certainly, but also cowboy hats, pool-noodle crowns, pilgrim hats, baskets, chef’s toques, fedoras, fezzes, seaweed…. He loved to laugh and was always the last to leave a party. Rob had an open heart, an open mind and an open wallet.

Rob is survived by his wife Joan, older brother Philip Ingraham, younger sister Beverly Roesch, younger brother John Ingraham; family of the heart Eve Ingraham, Steve Roesch and Kathy Ressler; brothers-in-law Michael Weakley (Emmy) and Daniel Weakley (Irene) and sisters-in-law Patricia Willis and Barbara Weakley (Bill Saltzman); as well as an army of nieces, nephews, great-nieces, great-nephews and cousins.

Rob followed Phil one last time, most beneficially, when he came to Ellensburg. Joan is profoundly grateful to Phil, his son Josh, Josh’s wife Erica, and all their family, for their wholehearted devotion to Rob and his well-being, and to her own. She also offers her deepest thanks to the lovingly dedicated family of friends, staff and caregivers, past and present, of Ellensburg Senior Living, where Rob spent the last sixteen months of his life in memory care.

Rob is resting now in the arms of God with his beloved mother and father, waiting with Scotch in hand, a welcoming hug, and a hearty laugh for us all – and no doubt with a halo jauntily perched on his head.

You will be missed, Rob. We love you dearly.

A funeral service will be held at 11:00 a.m. on Wednesday, August 19, 2026 at Grace Episcopal Church in Ellensburg. He will be laid to rest at Tahoma National Cemetery in Kent.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Indigenous Nations Poets (In-Na-Po), Cave Canem Foundation, Catskill Mountainkeeper, or the charity of your choice.

Arrangements have been entrusted to Johnston & Williams of Ellensburg. Online condolences may be left for the family at www.johnston-williams.com