Birth date: Apr 5, 1971 Death date: Jul 31, 2025
Anthony M Hayes, 54 of Kent, WA passed away on July 31st. He was born in Tacoma, WA in 1971 to Janice Lee Andersen. He attended Lincoln HS before joining the US Army where he attained the rank of Staff Sergeant and served in Germ Read Obituary
Tony at his grandma's Christmas party at the group home she lived at. December 2019. What a wonderful guy. He will be truly missed.
A Tribute to Tony Hayes
Mr. Hayes. Tony. What can I say?
My earliest memories of you go back to our time at WinStar. Even then, you stood out—not just for your technical knowledge, but for your heart. You were always there, helping the people around you. Always ready to lend a hand, always looking out for others.
One moment that has stayed with me over the years was during the wave of layoffs. I was working on the frame relay desk and wasn’t allowed to touch the router side of the house. But when the boss was away, you didn’t hesitate. You took the time to train me, to expand my skills, and to help me grow—making me more valuable, and more prepared for whatever was to come. That act of mentorship meant more than you probably ever realized.
Then came a moment I’ll never forget: when you volunteered to be laid off so that someone else could stay. Who does that? A brother does that.
After you left WinStar, we kept in touch. I stayed on for a little while longer, and even when that chapter closed, our friendship didn’t. We shared countless memories—going to concerts (including Bon Jovi, one of your favorites), baseball games, and hockey matches. You weren’t just a friend. You were a companion in life’s good moments, a constant presence through it all.
COVID, of course, slowed things down. But even when we weren’t out and about, we still kept in touch—calling, visiting, checking in.
Earlier this year, when I called and you told me about the cancer, you were still so you—wanting to go out on your own terms, without being a burden. Still thinking of others before yourself. Who does that? A brother does that.
Tony, you lived your life and left this world in the way that felt right to you. Always strong. Always selfless. Always true to who you were.
I will miss our concerts. I will miss the ball games. I will miss the hockey matches. But most of all, I will miss you.
And when my time comes, I know you’ll be there—waiting with that big, welcoming hug. I can already hear your voice:
“Let me show you around. Let me show you the ropes.”
Until we meet again, my friend.
Thank you.
