Robert Alan Atkins was born on May 15, 1952, and passed into the light on January 15, 2024. Always known as Rob, he was raised in South Charleston, West Virginia, by his mother, Joanne, and his father, Carroll, growing up beside his dear sister, Marcia—all of whom will be waiting for him as he arrives in the hereafter. He graduated from both South Charleston High School and West Virginia State University, majoring in speech/theater. Soon after leaving college, Rob moved to Columbus, Ohio—a state where he would spend the remainder of his life—to pursue his dreams.

He was an accomplished actor and loved the stage, appearing in many community and semi-professional theater productions in Columbus, at Player’s Theatre and Columbus Ensemble Theatre, as well as at Cleveland’s Dobama Theater in an award-winning production of Terrence McNally’s The Lisbon Traviata. He spent a memorable summer in Xenia, Ohio, appearing in the outdoor double features Blue Jacket and Annie Get Your Gun—learning to ride a big white horse bareback as he portrayed Wild Bill Hickok in the latter. He appeared in a number of television commercials as well, most memorably as a suited and tied professional boarding a bus to promote the value of Columbus, Ohio’s COTA transit system, a role his six-foot-two height and handsome physique helped him fill with ease. His deep, booming, memorable voice led him to a radio broadcasting booth in Huntington, West Virginia, as a young disc jockey playing early morning rock and roll, and later to a traffic broadcasting TV spot in Cincinnati. And his beautiful, strong, elegant and long-fingered hands appeared in many print ads, all by themselves.

Like many actors, he supported himself in the restaurant industry, working for many years as a server, manager, and bartender at a variety of restaurants and bars in Columbus, Cincinnati, and Cleveland. He was a consummate waiter and even- handed manager, and as a bartender, could talk up his customers with the best of them. Many will remember him from Columbus’s Mohawk and Carolyn’s; from Cincinnati’s Jeff Ruby Steakhouse, the Precinct, and Charley’s Oyster Bar and Grille; and in Cleveland, from Blue Point Grille, Saffron Patch, and Twinsburg’s Blue Canyon, as well as the Cleveland Heights bar Christopher’s and his final restaurant gig, Euclid’s Great Scott Tavern.

But Rob was so much more than the jobs he held: He loved a good cigar, a full-bodied red, and sitting on the back deck after dark with both of those, just to watch the stars. He loved golf: the beauty of the trees and the greens and the keen sense of competition the game engendered for him. He loved sailing—oh, how he loved sailing: the Lake Erie wind in his face, bracing and invigorating, filling him with what he described as something akin to spiritual awe.

He loved karaoke and could fill the room with a booming version of the 1970’s hit Vehicle; he was a master of trivia and amazed everyone with the arcane facts he could pull out of the most remote corners of his brain to win at Trivial Pursuit or Jeopardy; and he adored inserting an obscure pun into every conversation—the groanier, the better.

He loved his friends with a loyal and fierce affection that they felt keenly: His dearly loved best friend from his earlier years, Larry Milam, who accompanied him on his move from West Virginia to Columbus and greatly influenced the development of Rob’s character; his later Columbus bestie, Richard Nairn, who was surely there to greet him as he completed his earthly journey; his Cincinnati bestie, Tom Cunningham; and his very best friend of the past twenty years, John Hulse, who was as devoted a friend to Rob as can be imagined. And then all the other friends he loved as well: Mike, John’s son, who viewed Rob as an uncle; Peter, John O., Victor, Marty, and all the Cleveland Heights friends who sat around backyard fires with Rob, drinking a good brew and shootin’ the breeze—and so many, many other friends that you’ll have to forgive this writer for not having the space to list them all.

He will be missed by his family—his niece, Megan Graves, and his brother-in-law, Ralph Graves, the husband of his late sister, Marcia; his wife Lisa’s brother, Emerick Gordon, and Emerick’s wife, Teri, and their children, his nephews Tab and Race, and Orlando/Roxie; Lisa’s sister Cindy Berridge and her sons, Elliot and Julian; Lisa’s brother-in-law Donald Stoff, husband of her late sister Cheryl, and nieces Barb and Debbie. And he will be forever both missed and honored by his wife, Lisa Gordon, who was his beloved partner, companion, friend, and the love of his life for thirty-four years.

He left us far too early, Robert did, at seventy-one—as good a man as you can find and as true a friend. Long ago, his sister-in-law Cindy gave him a special birthday gift: she had a star named after him. Now, as we gaze into the night sky, just as Rob loved to do on summer evenings, we’ll know he too is a bright star in the heavens--and in our hearts as well, one that will shine for us forever.  

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