Charles was born May 6th, 1938 in New York, New York.
Following high school, Charles attended Princeton University, majoring in economics with minors in architecture and history, graduating in 1960. After Princeton he worked for 5 years as a corporate economist for Pacific Northwest Bell Telephone in Seattle. In 1961 he started Cossé International Properties and went on to develop and/or own multiple apartment buildings. In 1965 he started working for Hughbanks Inc. securities brokerage and became a managing partner in 1968. In 1972 he founded his own securities brokerage, Cossé International Securities which he owned and operated until closure in 2018.
His hobbies include flying, sailing, and skiing. An active private pilot since 1968, (after service in the Air Force Reserve) he had owned and piloted a Cessna-182 or similar aircraft in over 20 countries including Australia and numerous southern African countries. His favorite part of the world was the Arctic, where he flew every Arctic region except Siberia. His sailing adventures included trans-Pacific crossing from Bora Bora to New Zealand in a 37ft sailboat.
His love of opera led him to serve several years on the Board of Directors, Seattle Opera Company.
Survivors include his wife Sandra, sons Charlie, Mark, and Paul, daughters Laura and Julia, grandsons Jordan, Mike, Hamza, Yusuf, and Milo, and granddaughter Millie.
A small private family burial service will be held at Holyrood Cemetery.
High Flight
By John Gillespie Magee Jr.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds,—and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air ....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
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