Robert James Adair, affectionately known as Bobby, was born Aug. 7, 1951, in Crawfordsville, IN to Jane Stith Adair and Edward L. Adair Jr. He died on Sept. 15, 2021, in his beloved Brown County, where he moved in 1972 and never left. He was a graduate of Brebeuf Jesuit Preparatory School in Indianapolis and attended Wabash College, where he was a member of Delta Tau Delta fraternity.
Bob found comfort and sustenance in the trees and hollers of Brown County and established a homestead that welcomed guests and loved ones—everybody was family because he never met a stranger. His frequent visits to Jamaica through the years reinforced his love of the land and his early adoption of sustainable living.
He was a skilled contractor, carpenter, and furniture-cabinet maker who crafted utilitarian pieces that were truly works of art. He built many of the doors on Nashville’s shops, including those at Calvin Place.
He was a founding member of the Brown County Craft Guild and Gallery.
Bob loved bluegrass music and was a longtime member of the White Lightning Boys, playing dobro.
A beloved father, his daughter Lauren was the light of his life. Their tradition of fishing for the first, biggest, and most fish on Father’s Day was started by Bob when Lauren was very little and continued into the next generation. Bob’s biggest smiles and warmest hugs were reserved for his surviving family: Lauren Adair-Horace and son-in-law J.J. Horace, granddaughter Jadah C. Horace and grandson Tyrion James Horace, nephew Zachary Koomler, and ex-wife Martha Burton. Martha coined the term “wasband” for him, because Bob and Martha (Bert and Mert) continued their loving friendship, partnership, and coparenting long after Lauren was grown.
Slightly eccentric and very funny, Bob sported a long, snow-white beard that could be spotted a mile away. He always wore his Buddhist prayer beads, and his dogs were constant companions as he rambled the country roads and through the town of Nashville. Any dog he owned had to be a truck dog.
He loved life and his fellow humans and worked hard to take care of those in his community. There were a few times they took care of him.
To say Bob will be missed is as redundant as saying the sun will rise tomorrow. His absence will be felt among all of us, but his smiles, hugs, and kindness will continue to fill the hearts of those who knew him.
In lieu of sending flowers or donations right now, the family asks that you begin to gather your stories, songs, tall tales, and good wishes for the gathering celebrating his life at a later date.
