Craig Glen Christensen

The gentlest of giants, a man of few words but endless actions, a loving son, brother, husband, father, uncle, grandfather, and parent of a gaggle of spoiled-rotten pets, Craig Glen Christensen, 76, passed away peacefully in Atlanta, Georgia, on January 17th, 2025, after a heroic battle with lung cancer.

He was born in Shelley, Idaho in 1948 to Margene and Glen Christensen, proud potato farmers, who adored their inquisitive, kind, and shy firstborn. Hoping to coax him out of his shell, they enrolled him in a little league where his lifelong love of sports began. He was a natural, going on to become a star on Shelley High School’s basketball, baseball, and football teams. Go Russets! But baseball is where he shined the brightest, becoming a pitcher for the University of Idaho. With so much talent, he was approached by recruiters from the Pittsburgh Pirates to play professionally until he suffered a career-ending shoulder injury.

After receiving a bachelor’s degree in chemistry, Craig took a couple of jobs out of state, one in Boston, then one at General Electric in Wisconsin, where he met his first wife, Judy (Elaina) Danner. Their whirlwind romance culminated into a wedding in 1973 filled with beehive hairdos and bright, bell-bottomed tuxedos. Craig and his new family returned to his beloved home in Idaho where he started working for the Idaho National Laboratories in 1978. He was an analytical chemist, an occupation that, as it turns out, very few people understand. The only thing his family knew for sure was that attempting to speak to him about his work only proved the existence of bizarre words in the English language.

His daughter, Terra, was welcomed into the world in 1975 with so much fanfare, love, and attention, she may have thought she was a princess. Or a pop star. Craig would take her to Merts, his parents’ bar (hey, it was the 70s) and have her sing on the jukebox to all her adoring fans (AKA, bar patrons.) She was pretty sure her dad was a real-life hero, and, as it turns out, she was right.

Craig met Terry Ann, the love of his life, over the fence of his backyard, a neighborly chat that turned into a marriage of almost 40 years filled with love, kindness, patience, understanding, and dedication.

Craig’s granddaughter, Alexa, dominated the photo feed of his phone. The only other soul who received that distinguished honor was Riley, the family dog. Craig adored his many pets over the years, opting to speak to them in the few words of German he knew instead of English. No one knows why for sure, but perhaps he endeavored to make them bilingual.

Craig treasured his final months living in Georgia near his daughter and her family, spending his time dining on Chick Fil-A and Fat Boy ice cream sandwiches, binging on World War Two and old Western movies, and most importantly, watching football with Dave, his son-in-law. Craig made it abundantly clear how much the Jets—Dave’s favorite team—let him down this season, outdoing themselves by sucking harder than they’ve ever sucked since their one Super Bowl win way, way back in 1969.

Golf, fly fishing, model airplane flying, hunting, snow machining, bowling—Craig was one of those rare beings who excelled at almost everything but the gift to gab, although he’d vehemently argue that gabbing is hardly a gift. When anyone asked how he felt, his answer was almost always, “With my hands.” Instead, he expressed his feelings through actions or an emphatic curse word when the moment warranted.

Craig was preceded in death by his parents, Margene and Glen, his niece, his nephew, Brady, and is survived by his wife, Terry Ann Christensen, his daughter, Terra, his son-in-law, Dave, his granddaughter, Alexa, his brother, Dana, his sister-in-law, Linda, and his nephews, Ryan and Sean.

Craig will be deeply missed every day, but his memory will live on—his gigantic heart, his exemplary strength, his extraordinary mind, and his demonstration of just how few words are needed to convey pertinent information.