Nichole Remmert was one of the original writers at The Hill is Home in 2009. She currently lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and we love it when she comes to visit. ––Maria Helena Carey
On June 27, the world lost one of its true lights when Chandler “Chad” Blair Christian passed away, days before his 54th birthday. When Maria asked me if I wanted to write something about Chad for The Hill is Home, I hesitated because so many knew him better and longer, and have been in touch more recently than I have. But when I paused to reflect, I remembered the years that Chad was a daily fixture in my life on the Hill and what a genuinely good soul he was.
I’m talking about a period almost 15 years ago. Time gets trickier as more of it passes and there’s less ahead of you than behind. Memories fade like fuzzy cotton candy, softening the edges and blurring the line between what really happened and how you remember it. I’ve always preferred the latter.
There was a time when the Argonaut served as a family room for me and my community and Chad was part of that family. At the time, the family that Shaaren and Scott created for so many of us seemed so usual, but in hindsight, Chad’s loss made me realize that I’ve been chasing that feeling of connectedness and home-away-from-home ever since. The memories of that special place and the good and bad times have been at the forefront of my thoughts this week and have added needed texture to the sadness–– especially the hours spent turning the bad times back into good when we all pulled together to do everything we could to help build back the Argo after the fire.
If I had to describe Chad in one word, it would undoubtedly be kind–– and all that it entails. That kindness touched so many of us on the Hill as evidenced by the outpouring of love and support in the days following Chad’s passing. That was Chad’s gift: you could never be sad for long with him around, and his memory is no different.
Those of you who knew me from those days may remember my little dog Ramona, whom I toted with me everywhere I went including one fateful night when we joined our neighbors at the Capitol Hill BID tree lighting. Ramona got excited and slipped her leash and took OFF. She dashed north across Pennsylvania Ave SE and was gone in a flash. Chad took off running to try to catch her. She was a young and sassy little thing back then. However, not long after she escaped, Chad had her in his arms, having caught up with her when she stopped at the first place she recognized. Yes, my dog had run only as far as Tunnicliff’s because she was, after all, her mother’s Schnoodle. I was crying, afraid she’d be lost or worse, injured or killed and Chad saved the day with a smile. It meant the world to me, and obviously I never forgot it. But that was Chad: always there to help a friend however he could.
In the days since his passing, I’ve heard from so many neighbors on the Hill who had just seen Chad on a scooter in Lincoln Park or biking somewhere in the neighborhood. He was a fixture everywhere, who always had a hand to help, a smile to give, and a song to play. Another great memory is of Chad’s famous “nanoshows” one of which I was lucky enough to host at one of my birthday parties upstairs at, where else? The Argonaut.
I think now of Chad’s daughter Chloe, who was the light and love of his life, and her mother Julia, who were both huge parts of my life on the Hill. I wish I were closer to sit and remember and laugh and cry with them. I know that our community will hold them in love and make sure that Chloe knows how loved she is.
Fare thee well, friend. See you on the other side.
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If you’d like to help offset funeral expenses and support Chloe and Julia, Chad’s friends have set up a GoFundMe. Click here to donate.
There will be a memorial this Sunday, July at the American Legion, Post 8. Details can be found on Facebook here or on the GoFundMePage