On October 30, 2026, Tracy Kitts left this world while loving it and trying to stay in it—his hands firm on the handlebars of his mountain bike, the October sun shining on the Baileys Trails in Wayne National Forest, and the promise of a music night with friends after a day of riding. He was a man who leaned into his joy as well as your joy, and if you weren’t joyful in that moment, Tracy could bring it to you on one of his thirteen skateboards (probably the Santa Cruz) or through a song on his favorite Martin 000 guitar. If you were lucky enough to sit with Tracy in the evenings and share some Avalanche pizza or sit around a firepit with a beer, you also know that he loved Mike & Ike’s, stand-up comedy, solving other people’s problems (read compassionate counselor and mediator), and organizing things in general. His garage system, computer files, spreadsheets, and personal Alexa program for the house remain a testament to a man who looked chaos in the face and poked it in the eyes like the Three Stooges routine he loved. He could be as playful as he was structured.
As a child on the family farm, Tracy and his brothers Steve, Barry, and Terry were everything to each other. Once grown and out in the world, they remained best friends. Together, Tracy and Terry shredded miles of trail on their bikes in Ohio, West Virginia, and Colorado, chasing new terrain and testing their limits. Tracy also loved the trips out west where he sat with Steve on the back deck playing music and watching the sun slip over Pikes Peak. He loved talking politics and cars with Barry, especially the ever-evolving world of electric vehicles and home batteries. In fact, if Tracy hadn’t yet pulled on your ear about electric vehicles, he would want you to buy one—and maybe take a solar class too—but definitely buy the electric car. He would tell you that they’re the best thing since magnetic labels for his stacked Craftsman tool chest.
Or maybe you were a guest at one of the holiday parties, the only time of the year where he dressed to impress. The velvet jacket never worked on the biking trail or the skateboard park, but it worked in front of the fireplace with a cup of wassail in hand, Tracy moving between groups sharing funny stories. He had a penchant for storytelling and might have said to you, “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this story, but” and off he would go. And maybe you had heard it, and you heard it again anyway. He wound and unwound stories like wire: the turkey that flew overhead and knocked him off his bike on the trail, the trip to Paris and the desperate search for the bathroom where he learned that “the pee-pee dance is a universal language,” and the legendary skatepark stories where he de-escalated conflicts and once saved a life.
If the measure of a man’s life is not in the duration but in the donation, Tracy’s life was generous and expansive. He worked behind the scenes to establish the Athens Skatepark, the second largest skatepark in Ohio. He was a skateboard event organizer and general skateboard guru, teaching more than one hundred eager (and maybe nervous) kids to drop in, kickturn, and grind. And Tracy was there when his buddy Tony Hawk came to town for the park opening, although “buddy” may be a matter of some debate. But even before Tony Hawk cruised into town, Tracy had started an OU skateboard club as a college student, moved to California where he skated with some of his Dog Town heroes sneaking into abandoned home pools, and even lived across the street from the famous Upland Skatepark where he would grind and slam with the best of them. At age 49, he earned a hip replacement. True story.
Tracy Kitts was a Renaissance man. He earned an MBA and held leadership positions throughout his career, serving as Chief Administrative Officer at IEDC in Washington, DC; vice president, chief operating officer, and acting CEO of the National Business Incubation Association; and IT manager at Ohio University. Along the way, he also founded his own consulting business. He was generous with his time, but he was also a lifelong learner. He was a community organizer, trail builder, certified sawyer, Shotokan Karate black belt, kiddie karate instructor, man about town, and consummate craftsman. Endlessly curious, he taught himself coding, guitar, drums, and electrical wiring. At just eleven, he correctly rewired the basement of the family home because he wanted better lighting over the pool table.
As tenacious as he was in his attention to learning, he was in his attention to love. He believed in public displays of affection and merciless teasing. With Tina, he was one half of the greatest love story that ever existed.
Tracy is survived by his wife of 40 years, Tina Hall, whom he started dating at just 18 years old; his brothers and their wives, Steve and Debbie Kitts, Barry Kitts and Cindy Thompson, and Terry Kitts and Dawn Landau; his sister-in-law, Leilani Hall, and her husband, Joshua Freedman; his brother-in-law, Alonzo Hall, and his wife, Jane Hall; his parents-in-law, Donald and Madge Rauch; and his extended family, including aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins. He was preceded in death by his parents, Bill and Mary Kitts.
Tracy was a powerful presence—at times a walking spreadsheet and other times a lovable goof yodeling down Court Street. He was imperfectly perfect and he always had you. In Tracy, there was unbridled laughter, love for friends and family, and seriousness of purpose. He believed the best in you. He loved you as we loved him.
A celebration of the life and times of Tracy Kitts will be held at a later date in 2027. In lieu of flowers, please consider donating your time or money to a favorite cause.