WILMINGTON — Urban Burk, a legend in his own mind—and ours—said his final farewell on Monday, October 7th, at the impressive age of 99, leaving behind a trove of stories. This summary, much like Urban himself, will take on the tone of whoever’s reading it—because if you heard stories of Urban, it always came with a tone.
I can only offer a snapshot of his colorful 99 years. Instead of rattling off a dull list of dates and stats, here’s the real Urban, in no particular order: A staunch conservative, he was a Fox News devotee and a proud Republican voter. He played the stock market well into his 90s—though with questionable success. His philosophy on pie? Always yes. His coffee? Always black. And his advice? “This too shall pass.”
Born in Mason, Illinois— on a kitchen table— Urban’s childhood was —swiping watermelons, swimming in the Wabash, and watching the new highway take shape, sparking a curiosity that would fuel his many adventures. He enlisted in the Navy during World War II, though rheumatic fever cut his service short. Unfazed, he pivoted to a year of college life at the University of Illinois. A year later, in 1945, he married his first wife, Marilyn, and together they embarked on what can only be described as a family adventure. They raised four children—Greg (aka “Stony”), Brian, Dan, and Janice—while Urban’s career whisked them from Indiana to Michigan, Colorado to New Orleans to Houston, and even Massachusetts.
If you talked to Urban for more than five minutes, odds were you’d hear about U.S. Steel. He spent over 20 years in their cable division in sales, and no matter where the conversation started, it always circled back to, “Well, when I was at U.S. Steel…” The man was practically a one-man PR team for the company.
A man on his own mission, Urban was fiercely independent. He didn’t just make money—he knew how to spend it. Flying planes, buying boats, raising horses—whatever it was, he went all in and did it big.
Urban’s love life was as colorful as his career. After 20+ years, Marilyn called it quits. but things unraveled over bathroom rugs—yes, really. Next in line was Barbara, with her beauty salons, and finally—so we thought—Gloria, the companion without the legal paperwork. Even the quiet farm life, with its horses, King Charles Spaniels, and an impressive rock and gem collection, eventually came to an end.
Urban eventually landed in College Station, Texas, with plans for a relaxed retirement. But “relaxed” wasn’t exactly Urban’s style. He made himself right at home at his granddaughter’s place, settling into a steady routine of family dinners and, from 5 to 7 p.m. like clockwork.
Never one to sit still for long, Urban packed his bags and followed his granddaughter’s family to their next duty station. Then—because why not—he got married again at 88, while on a cruise, no less. Armed with a U-Haul and a new wife, he headed off to Tucson, only to boomerang back to Texas a few years later after that marriage met the same fate as the others.
He celebrated his 95th birthday with family just before the pandemic hit, and while COVID locked everyone else away, Urban could still be found at Whataburger for lunch. And yes, of course, he was still driving his little Audi around Austin—because, naturally, why wouldn’t he?
A few short months ago, Urban once again followed his granddaughter to North Carolina, where he embarked on another six months of adventures before his journey came to an end. I’m pretty sure that breaking a hip wasn’t the chapter he envisioned for his grand finale, which is why I’m writing this obituary—to celebrate the vibrant life of Urban Burk.
Keeping it short and not too sentimental—just how he’d like it: Urban leaves behind his children—Brian, Stony, Dan, and Janice—whose parenting he may not have mastered, but always loved. His legacy lives on through grandchildren Shannon, James, Josh, Shianne, and Chrissy, as well as great-grandchildren Allie, Abby, Drew, Ella, Hudson, Maddox, Holden, Mikey, Mya, Tyler, Rowan, and Trent.
Let’s not overlook the spouses and partners, who had a front-row seat to the Burk nature versus nurture debate from the sidelines. They found comfort in knowing they weren’t alone in their bewilderment over the family dynamics, the quirky sense of humor, and those endearing oddities. Here’s to Dave, Camey, Deb, Diana, Kevin, and Stephen for being part of this adventure.
As he embarks on his next journey, he’ll reunite with family and friends who went before him, including his sister Lenora, mother Tressie, father Joyce, grandson Shane, his not-so-fond ex-daughter-in-law Sharon, a few of his ex-wives, and a host of cherished pets.
On a sentimental note, he adored his great-grandchildren—probably more than the rest of us. He lit up hearing their stories and watching their updates on Facebook. We will miss his airy laugh, the unmistakable smell of Aramis when he walked into a room, and his banter. 99 years of life gave us all a chance to know Urban in different chapters and at different times, and I’m grateful to share just a glimpse of who he was with anyone reading this.
Urban lived a life larger than most, brimming with adventure, sometimes humor, and just the right amount of chaos. In classic Urban fashion, even as his story reached its conclusion, he remained the proud captain of his own ship, navigating life with a stubbornness that made him, well, Urban. Rest easy, Urban—you’ve certainly earned it.
