Christodoulos Charalambous' Obituary
Chris Charalambous, born Christodoulos Charalambous, a devoted husband, loving father and grandfather, proud American, and master of the perfectly terrible joke, passed away peacefully on July 26, 2025, at the age of 79 in Trinity, Florida.
Born in the village of Agia Varvarra (Saint Barbara), Cyprus, Chris came to the United States as a teenager in the early 1960s with little more than a few bags, a strong work ethic, and the determination to build a life from the ground up. He did exactly that.
Chris spent his life as an electronics technician, a fixer, a tinkerer, and an inventor. He began his career with Zenith, where he worked for more than two decades, then opened his own electronics repair business. After relocating to Florida in 1992, he continued repairing TVs and stereos in his own shop, surrounded by circuit boards and soldering irons. If something had wires, he could fix it. If it was broken, he'd take it apart, put it back together better, and probably rig it to do something it was never supposed to do.
One of his favorite household inventions was "The Bell Box,” a mercury switch he wired into the family mailbox at the bottom of a steep hill. Whenever someone opened the mailbox, a bell rang in the house. Chris would know when the mail arrived and when neighborhood kids were messing around where they shouldn't be. He caught one kid in the act once and put an end to the mailbox vandalism with nothing more than a calm conversation and the kind of authority you earn over a lifetime.
Chris had his own brand of humor. He loved the old comedians like Milton Berle and Henny Youngman, and he'd tell their jokes with his unmistakable Greek accent. Even the corniest punchlines sounded charming when he delivered them. He'd tell every joke like it was the funniest thing you'd ever hear. And if you rolled your eyes or said you'd heard it before, he'd act completely surprised, like that reaction came out of nowhere. "Marriage is like a three-ring circus,” he'd say. "First comes the engagement ring, then the wedding ring, then the suffer-ring."
He was always pulling pranks at work too. Once he told several coworkers, one by one, that the boss wanted to see them. They all lined up outside the senior manager's office before anyone figured out what was happening. The manager knew immediately who was behind it. It was always Chris.
At home, Chris was the heart of everything. He and his wife Chrys were together for 62 years, married for 59 of them. Their house was full of people, parties, music, and stories told over and over again. He was Elena’s devoted father, she was definitely daddy's girl. With his son Gregg, he was a creative partner, building science fair projects and decorating cakes for contests, never missing a soccer game. He played endless games with his kids and grandchildren; cards, Monopoly, and even his own version of "Let's Make a Deal.” His grandchildren called him Papou, and he brought the same silliness and warmth to that role.
When Elena was going through tough times, Chris was the first person she'd call. He didn't try to fix everything or give unwanted advice. He listened. He was encouraging. He loved without conditions. "Did you try your best?" he'd ask. "Then I'm proud of you."
If someone needed help, Chris was there. He stayed loyal to friends for decades and never hesitated to share what he had.
Chris never forgot his roots, but he was proud of what he built in America. When Gregg joined the Army, Chris stood with his brother looking at Gregg's first military photo—uniform pressed, standing tall with the American flag behind him and "CHARALAMBOUS" on his chest. "Look at him," Chris said quietly. "With the flag, and our name." For a boy from a tiny village in Cyprus, that moment meant everything.
Chris is survived by his wife Chrys, his children Elena and Gregg, and his beloved grandchildren, Ariana and Luke. He leaves behind many close friends who knew his warmth, his humor, and his collection of jokes that never got old (to him, anyway).
A funeral service will be held at Saint George Greek Orthodox Church in New Port Richey, Florida on Wednesday, July 30, at 12:00 p.m., followed by burial at Trinity Memorial Gardens at 1:30 p.m. A makaria will take place back at the church at 3:00 p.m.
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