Remembering Rob Nichols (1960-2021)
Editor’s note: Rob Nichols was known to many ELi readers as “Captain Carnivore” through his wife’s “Ann About Town” columns. A fundraiser has been established to support Ann Nichols at GoFundMe. (All are welcome to contribute.)
Christopher Robbin “Rob” Nichols died at Sparrow Hospital on December 16, 2021. His wife and children were with him, as well as his beloved brother-in-law.
What matters, really, is not a chronological list of what Rob did in his life, but what he was. He was born in Kalamazoo in August of 1960, to Janet and Tony Nichols. He was raised by Jan’s second husband, Chuck Cronin. He grew up in the country, raised steers for 4H, and drove a truck from the time he was twelve. After high school, he joined the U.S. Navy, working on aircraft carriers at Miramar, in San Diego. He loved his time in the Navy, and spoke often of the way in which differences of culture and upbringing disappeared in barracks and mess halls.
Rob married Susan Winsett, and they had a daughter, Stephanie. After a serious car accident, Rob returned to Michigan and began a career in sales, using his charm and listening skills to support his family while helping customers find the tools they needed to succeed.
In 1995, Rob divorced his first wife. That year he made a sales call on an attorney in solo practice, hoping to lease her a postage meter (he did). After that first call, he returned often to see that lawyer, Ann Graham. They argued about politics, they discussed social policy, and books, and music, and family, and they fell in love. In 1997 they were married, and welcomed their son, Samuel Lancaster Nichols into the world.
There were years of hard work, raising children, traveling, replacing dishwashers, rescuing kittens, and always, the safe harbor of home. Rob’s job changed over the years, but he loved most the years he spent selling motorcycle helmets and car stereos across Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio.
When Rob was diagnosed with Stage IV Melanoma in 2018, he was afraid he would lose his job (and health insurance), and the family worked together to keep him on the road and working. Ann and Sam drove him all over the state to make sales calls, and they never told his employer he had cancer. With treatment, he went into a remission that lasted for more than two years. A recurrence in late summer of 2021 required more treatment, and while it beat back the cancer again, it also resulted in complications that cost Rob his life.
Rob loved heavy metal, the hottest hot sauce, reading (especially the novels of Patrick O’Brien), a good steak, history, animals, the Navy, and videos about people asserting their rights after being unlawfully stopped by the police. He also loved videos about unlikely pairs of animals becoming friends. He challenged waiters at Thai restaurants to produce impossibly hot dishes , and he ate them every time. He loved all animals, his and everyone else’s, especially Henry the Cat, who loved him most.
Rob served for many years as the head usher at The Peoples Church in East Lansing because he enjoyed helping people to feel welcome and comfortable. He particularly loved helping the acolytes, children who lit the candles at the front of the Church every Sunday, and they unfailingly loved him back.
He fixed things, figured things out, and troubleshot. He created a life where Ann wouldn’t have to worry about snaking the drain, lighting the fuse, or shoveling the snow. He left her a sheet of passwords for every account he had. He helped his many undergraduate neighbors with everything from jumping cars to tying neckties before an interview, becoming the neighborhood dad.
He was also the very real dad to Stephanie and Sam. He was proud of Stephanie’s accomplishments as a medical assistant, and he loved her daughters Chloe and Sophia. He was incredibly proud when Sam persevered to complete an FAA course and become an airplane technician. Since Sam worked nights, he often called his father on the drive home to talk airplane talk and tell the stories of the previous shift. It was a bond that brought visible joy to both of them.
As a husband, Rob was human, and lovely, and forbearing. He tolerated Ann’s frequent changes in spiritual affiliation, let her tell him (literally) the entire plot of whatever she was reading, and understood that she had to adopt a dog five days after they lost their beloved Guinevere. He always, always stopped to let her read him a thing she wrote, and he was proud of her when she went back to practicing law, and started a new life as a professional person. He took care of her delicate ego, held her close literally and figuratively after her parents died, and always made her feel like he was lucky to have her.
What Rob Nichols was was a good man, a good man who thrived on hard work and a belief in the necessity of offering help generously and frequently. And what Rob Nichols left was a legacy of love and generosity. If you knew this big, kind, quiet man (or even if you didn’t), bear witness to his life by being quick, always, to help.
Rob leaves his wife Ann, his mother Janet Cronin, his daughter Stephanie Abbott (wife of Jeremy), his son Sam Nichols (partner of Rebecca), granddaughters Chloe Jackson and Sophia Abbott, and his sisters Toni Nichols and Barb Ryan, and brother Joe Cronin.
A memorial service for Rob will be held at The Peoples Church on March 12, at 11 a.m.
This article was updated on Mar. 6, 2022, at 2 p.m. to reflect updated information about Rob’s memorial service.