Samuel R. Bair was born February 17, 1948, to Tilford Glenroy Bair and Mary Alice (Haungs) Bair, in Bedford, Indiana. He was welcomed home by his big brother, Andrew (Andy) Bair.
When Sam was a toddler, his parents often took him and Andy fishing on the rocks below the White Eagle cabin at Riverview, where the Milwaukee Trail now runs alongside the river. In 1951, the family decided to rent a cabin next to the Boat Club for the summer, but at the end of the summer, the boys didn’t want to go home, so the Bair family bought two cabins and moved to the river permanently. A childhood spent on the river fishing, hunting, trapping, swimming, water skiing, and exploring caves shaped Sam’s life instilled in him a lifelong love and knowledge of the outdoors, and an incredible level of skill at fishing.
Tragically, when Sam was eleven years old, his father died unexpectedly. This loss drove Sam and his brother to work hard to be independent and successful and to mentor others in need, because they had lost their own mentor at an early age. Sam always urged people to learn, seek education, and think independently constantly. The impact of his devotion to helping others is evidenced by, among other things, multiple times when people have been given “Samuel” as their first or middle name in his honor.
When Sam graduated from high school, he was encouraged to go to college, but he did not want to place a financial burden on his family. A family friend remarked about the situation, “Ain’t nobody going to make Sam Bair do something he don’t want to do.” So, Sam went to work instead, eventually graduating from the electrician apprentice program at Crane in 1972, and promising his mother he would someday earn a college degree. Once Sam made a promise, he kept it. He earned three degrees from Oakland City University, at night, all while working full days at Crane. He received his Associate’s, Bachelor’s, and Master’s degrees. Even though he finished, as he promised, he still wished his mom could have seen him walk across the stage and receive those degrees. Sam retired from Crane on March 3, 2003. A day he had been counting down to since 1987. Every day you could ask him how many days left, and he could tell you immediately. That became a running joke with those with whom he worked and was friends. He smiled a little bigger every time he got a day closer. Though Sam retired from Crane, he returned to work almost immediately. This time, doing something he truly enjoyed. He worked with his friend Ernie McCoullough at E & R Fabricating. Sam said, “Ern, I’ll help you out for a couple of weeks.” Well, those couple of weeks turned into 12 years. Sam didn’t count down the days working with Ernie, though he did finally retire in August 2015.
Sam was gifted intellectually, voraciously reading anything he found interesting. He had a photographic memory, being able to recall every word on any given page of the books he read. Sam won spelling bees, tennis tournaments, drag races (usually using his brother’s or mother’s cars without their knowledge), and countless fishing tournaments. Despite being just an average-sized guy, Sam excelled at all types of sports by using determination and wit to be a fierce competitor. Sam loved golfing and playing basketball. He was also an avid runner, running 25 to 30 miles a week into his fifties when his back finally gave out.
Sam appreciated many musical genres, including folk, classic country, and classic rock, with the pinnacle of his tuneful enjoyment likely coming from rolling on the river listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival. Sam loved to party and have fun. He attended numerous races and sporting events, and for many years spent Labor Day weekend watching the drag races and reveling at the US Nationals in Indianapolis. He loved fast cars, fast motorcycles, and fast boats. Wherever Sam went to have fun, he could usually be found with a Miller Lite in his hand and a sly, mischievous grin on his face as he was contemplating his next sage, cerebral, poignant observation or amusing, somewhat dry, witty wisecrack.
Sam was often very blunt because he felt the best way for people to overcome problems was to face reality head-on and assess and address the challenges they faced logically. Despite his sometimes stern, no-nonsense demeanor, he also had a soft spot for helping children, old people, and dogs. Sam was there to help his mother and stepfather as they grew old, and he was an extraordinary grandfather, uncle, and husband. His nephew once said when he was a small child, “Everyone should have an Uncle Sam.”
Sam was an exceptional Papaw. When he found out he was going to be a Papaw, he said, “I’m not going to be one of those guys who carry tons of pictures and spoil them rotten.” Famous last words. He loved his two grandkids, Kevan and Bailey, with big, giant love. Sam was a natural with kids. Patient, kind, fun, and firm if they needed it. Often they did, but he was kind and tolerant, teaching them why they had been admonished or corrected. Always wanting to help them learn what they needed to know and understand in becoming adults. They loved him too, with all their heart.
Sam’s devotion to those he loved was often quiet and unassuming, but still waters run very deep. If he loved you, he made sure you felt it, one way or another. Maybe it was physical, as in a hug or slap on the back, kind words, a hand to help you up, or money to help you out. He always laughed and said everyone thought he had his first two nickels…he may have, but tight he was not. Frugal, maybe, but he was happy to help people when and how he could.
He had so many friends. Some from 60 or 70 years ago, and some more recent. He was blessed, and he blessed others. Most people would say Sam Bair was a helluva guy. They weren’t wrong.
Anyone who knew Sam or his wife, Terri, knew they had a love story that surpassed time and age. If two people were ever destined to be together, it was them. They couldn’t be in a room together without electricity cracking all around them. They could communicate with a glance, a smile, a smirk, or a wink. So many times they would say the same thing at the same time or know they were thinking the same thing. Always by each other’s side was where they were their absolute happiest, whether in their recliners, vehicle, bar stools at The Boat Club, or bed; Sam and Terri were never far apart and truly loved sharing their lives, as a team. They completed each other in a way that many will never know or understand. They knew what they wanted, and that
was to love each other for whatever time would allow them. They had many years to enjoy each other. To say they were lucky is a vast understatement. They were blessed beyond measure. Sam and Terri finished this part of their love story side by side, holding hands until the very end of Sam Bair’s beautiful life. What a gift to hold your most precious love as they journey to another space and time.
Sam Bair left this world on Sunday, October 26, 2025, in his home, without pain, in the arms of his wife and surrounded by a loving family. He was never alone, being spoken to throughout his transition because we all know that big, beautiful brain of his could hear us. As usual, Sam Bair left this world on his terms. He held on and finally decided, I’m ready to go and he did. Leaving behind a legacy that will never fade as long as we continue to share stories, speak of him, love his memory, and love him.
Sam was preceded in death by his dad, Tilford Bair; his mom, Alice Bair; his stepfather, Joe Abel; and his brother, Andy Bair.
He leaves behind his wife, Terri, nephew Chuck Bair (Ava), great nephews Sam and Jacob, great niece Alice, two grandchildren, Kevan Bugh ( Jessie), Bailey Bugh, four great-grandchildren, Hannah, Samuel, Kaydence, and Xander, and two step-children from a previous marriage, Benny Ambler (Mary) and Amber Bugh.
We want to extend a very special thank you to St. Croix Hospice in Seymour, Indiana. I’m not sure how we could have made Sam comfortable without their guidance, diligence, care, and superb knowledge. Our nurse Beth was his fierce and loyal advocate. She was our saving grace. Also, thank you to our great-nephew, Sammy T., and family friend Anita Bush for helping Sam in his final transition. You are appreciated.
Per Sam’s explicit wishes, there will be no funeral service, but a celebration of life will be held at the Bedford Boat and Sportsman Club on November 8, 2025, from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. Friends and family are welcome to come and celebrate a life well lived and loved.
“Here’s to the four hinges of society. May you fight, steal, lie, and drink. When you fight, may you fight for your country. When you steal, may you steal away from bad company. When you lie, may you lie at the side of your sweetheart. And when you drink, may you drink with me.” Irish blessing
