Linda Walsh Bailey

We are saddened to announce the passing of Linda Walsh Bailey. Beloved wife of Robert Bailey for over 40 years. Devoted mother to Kathleen (Michael) Wilk and Rob Bailey. Grandmother - "Gommy" - to John and Lillian Wilk. Loving sister of Diane (Michael) Walsh-Madden. Preceded in death by her parents, John Walsh and June (Krogh) Walsh Graf, her step-father, Richard Graf, and her grandparents, John and Delia (Milton) Walsh and Arthur and Elizabeth (Dittmann) Krogh.

Linda loved animals, especially her dog Ernie. She also loved Chicago sports and was a fan of the Cubs and Blackhawks. Double alumna of the University of Chicago earning her BA and MBA, she devoted her career to international supply chain management at Turtle Wax. Linda also celebrated Irish culture and loved the music and dance. She was fiercely loyal to those she loved and would do anything for her family and friends. She will be deeply missed by all who knew her.

Remembering Linda Walsh Bailey

Anyone who knew Linda knew she was:

• Responsible above all. She grew up fast after her Dad, John, died in 1973.
• Devoted to Katie and Bobby. Everyone knew she would step in front of a truck to protect them.
• Fiercely loyal (and could hold a grudge)
  • If she thought you hadn't played straight with her kids, you were on a list you couldn't get off.
  • Katie had a teacher who was unable to accompany her downstate for Science Fair. We all felt   strongly that Katie would have received more recognition if her teacher were in her corner. Linda       was  not forgiving.
  • Any referee or umpire who made a bad call against Bobby heard her loudly and clearly.
  • And there's the Socks in the Frying Pan Incident, where an Irish Trad group (if you haven't heard of them) benefitted from the enthusiastic support of the Weber Irish Dancers at a fest at Gaelic Park, invited them to dance on stage later that year in Milwaukee, and then snubbed them in favor of another dance school. Katie and Bobby both would have danced, so they snubbed both her children with one bad move. We never played their music in the house again.
• Loved dogs.
  • Dolly and Charlie lived to be 19 and 17, respectively. Dolly had cataract surgery at 15 because Linda was committed to giving her the best possible quality of life. Ernie's still going strong at 15 but shows signs of needing cataract surgery. I see a big vet bill in my future.
  • Linda also picked up any number of strays over the years, paid for any needed veterinary care, and either found them new homes or reunited them with their owners.
• Loved her job at Turtle Wax where she worked for nearly 30 years.
  • During this telework era, I couldn't avoid overhearing some of her work interactions. It was obvious she was in an environment where she could be herself and speak bluntly. A few of the things I heard her say might make the HR folks cringe, but at Turtle Wax they understood her. They appreciated her unfailing honesty and the way she expected the rest of the world be as responsible, honest, and direct as she was.

• Believed that actions speak louder than words.
  • For her, the most important action was showing up. Be there. No excuses. For example, she was a fixture at nearly every Weber Irish Dance performance over the past 30 years.
  • The other side of this coin is that she didn't talk about love or emotions much and instead showed her love through her actions unwaveringly, every day.
  • She also showed her love by telling us exactly what we should do, which was sometimes hard to hear, but she was always right.
• Lastly, Linda was intensely private, which manifested during her illness in a way that I and probably others found confusing: she NEVER wanted to talk about her illness. This kept a number of people out of the loop and deprived them of the opportunity to express concern or offer love and support. It's OK; she knew. Her intent wasn't to shut you out. She just didn't want her illness to define her or infect all of her interactions during this time. She wanted to live every day as normally as possible without sorrow or pity. I struggled to understand this but I get it now, and I hope this helps others understand it too. Thanks for remembering her and helping celebrate her life.

-- Bob Bailey, 9/8/23