ALS diminished this legendary Charlottean’s body — but not his heart or his mind

As an accomplished distance runner who figured he logged some 120,000 miles in his lifetime, George Walker’s biggest claim to fame was shocking the competition with an underdog win at the 1986 Charlotte Observer Marathon. As a beloved teacher at Independence High School in Charlotte for more than 27 years, he mastered the gift of gab in the classroom, where he made lasting impressions on legions of students.

Walker loved both running and teaching with all his heart, and that’s why his wife, Elizabeth, said “there couldn’t be a worse disease” — amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (also known ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease), which over time robbed him of his ability to move and speak — “for someone like George to have.”

George Walker died Friday at Atrium Health Hospice & Palliative Care Union in Monroe after a roughly two-year battle, surrounded by family. He was 64.

He had, of course, been thinking about this day for a long time.

In an interview with The Charlotte Observer in his bedroom on Nov. 10, Walker was able to manage just a handful of words at a time between labored breaths, in a weakened, raspy voice. But he gave a clear-eyed answer regarding his imminent passing: “I’ve accepted it. We talk about it openly. It’s not taboo. It’s 100% terminal, so it’s not like cancer, where you can fight.” He added that he had “no regrets” about the life he lived. “I don’t think there’s one person on this earth who hates me.”

And in the end, he was ready — as Elizabeth puts it, “for the next great adventure.”

In fact, George was very likely as prepared as he could have possibly been.

An auspicious (and sneaky) marathon debut

A native of the Charlotte area by way of Charleston, S.C., George Walker’s running career started on the track team at Albemarle Road Junior High and blossomed at the high school where he’d eventually return to teach: Independence, for which he starred both in cross-country and track.

He chose to remain in North Carolina for college, majoring in history at UNC Wilmington while also making history, as the first cross-country runner to earn an athletic scholarship from the university.

There was no slowing down for him after graduation.

While trying to find work as a teacher, Walker saved money by living with his parents in Matthews and pieced together income by chasing prize money in races all over the country that offered them, as long as he could get there cheaply.

But it was here in Charlotte where he claimed his biggest payday.

At age 24, Walker entered the 1986 Charlotte Observer Marathon — his first 26.2-mile race — on a bit of a whim, without even giving his personal running coach a heads-up. “I was gonna pretend,” he joked, wryly, “that I got in the wrong race by accident.” (The event also featured a 10K race.)

His bib number, 3381, actually suggested he wasn’t on anyone’s radar; in competitive running, numbers in the single or low-double digits typically are reserved for the bibs worn by professional, elite or at the very least sub-elite runners.

Walker got out in front of most of them early, though. And although the final miles nearly broke him, he was able to surge into a lead he maintained till he crossed the finish line in 2 hours, 22 minutes and 5 seconds. At the time, it set the mark for fastest marathon ever run by a North Carolinian on a North Carolina course.

In a televised post-race interview, WBTV legend Bob Lacey asked Walker, “What kept you going the last few miles?” The winner replied: “I knew if I quit, I … would be forgotten. If I held on and won, it would be something I would remember forever.”

He went home with $4,000, which would help pay for two-thirds of the new car he bought later that year.

‘The most impassioned teacher I ever had’

Later that year, Walker landed the job at his high school alma mater, where he would go on to develop a sterling reputation, both as a beloved goofball of an 11th-grade history teacher — famous for, among other things, teaching his students to say “King George the Third” with a British accent — and as the coach of the Patriots’ cross-country team.

Independence also helped him find the love of his life in Elizabeth, a fellow teacher, whom he married in 2004.

Elizabeth Walker told the Observer her husband was “Independence’s biggest fan and biggest advocate,” someone who would show up at school board meetings if he was needed to stand up for his kids or his fellow faculty members. Among the many videos sent to Walker over the summer by former students who’d gotten wind of his terminal illness, one featured a woman who gushed: “He was by far the most impassioned teacher that I ever had growing up.”

He was by far the most tireless, as well, when it came to both his vocation and his fitness.

Walker went 18 years — from October 1995 until June 2013, when he retired — without missing a day of school. It dwarfed his longest running streak — one eclipsing 1,000 straight days — though that was still a massively impressive feat in its own right.

The more invested he became in his students, he told the Observer, the less-important running became to him over the course of his career.

“Running is selfish, but teaching is selfless,” he wrote in a speech delivered by Elizabeth on his behalf in August, when Independence dedicated the school’s track in his name. “As a runner, your focus is on trying to develop and improve yourself. … As a teacher, your focus is on trying to make everyone in front of you the best they can be.”

Two years after retiring, Walker returned to Independence as a regular substitute teacher.

“I had told everyone it was to earn some extra money,” he wrote in his speech. “But the truth was, I missed the students. I missed being in the classroom.”

Deciding to move gracefully toward death

Sometime in the middle of 2023, George Walker started getting a tingling sensation in his feet. His running went downhill fast, lacing up for what would be the last run of his life on Labor Day in 2023.

He continued walking, often six or seven miles per day, and could still bang out bunches of push-ups on command. But diminished dexterity in his fingers came next, and his endurance decreased to where — by the following spring — he was mostly just going out to walk the dogs a short distance.

Doctors diagnosed Walker with ALS on May 4, 2024.

“When I first found out, I read 5% make it 20 years,” he recalled. “So I said, ‘OK, that’ll be me.’” He changed his outlook, however, upon learning it would mean eventually being on a feeding tube. “I said, ‘That’s not living, as far as I’m concerned.’”

Instead, he decided to move gracefully toward death by spending time reflecting on his past, appreciating what he could appreciate despite his circumstances in the present, and planning for the future.

That meant leafing through copious newspaper clippings that celebrate him in some way or another, smiling over them, and sharing iPhone photos of his favorites with anyone he thought might be interested.

That meant snuggling with his devoted toy poodle; binge-watching TV shows on Netflix; sending gift cards to about 200 friends, including some he hadn’t seen in decades, “just to tell ’em ‘thanks,’” he said; and, after losing most of his ability to chew and swallow, putting Hershey’s Kisses into his mouth and letting the sweet chocolate just melt there.

But most importantly, that meant making sure Elizabeth would enjoy golden years that were truly golden.

Although George hadn’t left the bedroom since May, he kept busy by phone, email and text in his final months, with a laser-focus on generally getting the couple’s finances in order for Elizabeth and, more specifically, managing renovations of a paid-off townhouse that was previously a rental property.

She’ll move into it and net the profits from the sale of their house, which also is paid off. She’ll get life insurance money from a policy taken out before he was diagnosed. She’ll want for nothing, according to George’s plan.

“I even told her, ‘If you meet the right person, get married.’ It’d be very selfish to not say that.”

He paused, then broke the somberness hanging in the air with another wry quip: “I also told her, ‘Just don’t pick up a gambling habit.’”

George Walker had no children of his own, but in addition to Elizabeth leaves behind a stepson, Jeffrey Caleb Canipe; a sister, Brenda Walker Lloyd; a collection of in-laws; his toy poodle Leo; a seven-month-old black Lab, Arya (named for “Game of Thrones’” heroine Arya Stark); dozens of cards and appreciation videos from former students; two very fat scrapbooks full of running memories; several bags of miniature chocolates; and a piece of simple advice:

If there’s something you want to do with your life, do it. Don’t put it off. Because you just never know when it will be too late.

This story was originally published January 2, 2026 at 2:43 PM.