Charles Adam Lahr

Charles Adam Lahr passed away on May 30, 2025.

He was called by his middle name, Adam, by family and friends who loved him deeply. He was a son, a brother, and an uncle with boundless energy, great intelligence, incredible creativity, and a magnetic personality. He loved his family and touched their lives—and so many others—in ways that words can barely describe.

Adam was born in Salem, Virginia. When he was two, the family moved to Atlanta. At age six, after his parents divorced, the family moved to Melbourne Beach, Florida. Adam grew up with his mother, sister, and maternal grandparents. After six years in Florida, their multigenerational family moved back to Atlanta, closer to a very large and loving extended family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins.

While Adam was attending Georgia State University, his mother remarried. Although he was no longer living at home, he remained an important part of a growing family that now included his sister, brother-in-law, niece, loving stepfather, and stepsister.

As a young child, Adam seemed to overflow with joy. He recited poetry, sang, danced, invented funny character voices, and burst into spontaneous performances that surprised and entertained everyone. His timing wasn’t always ideal, and he didn’t always know when to stop—traits that sometimes got him into trouble.

From early childhood, Adam loved to draw, paint, design, and build things. He spent hours absorbed in his projects, sometimes wrapping his blistered fingers in Band-Aids so he could keep working. His creativity was evident in everything he did.

Adam loved the ocean and the outdoors. As a young boy, he delighted in the beach, playing in the surf and riding the waves. He also loved camping and quiet time in the woods with his grandfather. Grandaddy often woke before dawn to squeeze in a quick fishing trip or a run with the dogs through the woods and fields before work, and Adam never missed a chance to join him.

Unfortunately, Adam’s mind was rarely quiet. He was easily overstimulated and struggled with hyperactivity and impulsivity, which sometimes frustrated or angered the people around him. Things broke, people got upset, and Adam often ended up hurt—sometimes physically, but even more so emotionally. His anxiety amplified his restlessness and his need for attention and reassurance. Counseling and prescribed medications helped a little, but his challenges deepened as he grew older.

During high school, Adam went on an Outward Bound expedition, hiking and living in the woods of the North Carolina mountains for two weeks. His appreciation for the stillness of the woods grew as he journaled, practiced mindfulness, increased his confidence and outdoor skills, and learned to respect nature and leave no trace. The experience was life-changing. Adam spoke about it for the rest of his life, and even in the months leading up to his death, he spent many weeks retreating to the mountains.

As an adult, Adam’s artistic skills opened doors in the TV and movie industry, and his career began to flourish. Joining the IATSE union (International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees) provided steady income and health benefits between projects—an invaluable support for his creative life. Adam worked on a variety of television shows and movies, including Stranger Things and several Marvel films. He loved the work, the creative collaboration, and the friends he made. Many of his coworkers and directors expressed their appreciation for Adam’s work ethic, talent, and creativity.

For a time, it seemed like the perfect balance. Breaks between film projects allowed Adam to explore his own art and music. He learned to sing, growl, and scream in hard-rock bands. His dreadlocks grew longer, his stage presence fierce, and metal crowds loved him. Adam wrote music and performed with bands including ThroatpuncH, Chains of Kronos, and Thousand Pound Pig. He became well known in Atlanta’s heavy-metal scene. He and ThroatpuncH were nominated for many awards and won Best Rock Band in Georgia at the Georgia Music Awards in 2012.

But the irregular schedules and late-night performances eventually took a toll on Adam’s health. There were bursts of success and pride, but also deep valleys of instability, disappointment, and depression.

During the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, all of Adam’s film and music work shut down. He became physically ill with non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Immunotherapy treatments seemed promising, but isolation and uncertainty caused his mental health to spiral. Without work, Adam’s health benefits expired, and he continued to decline. He withdrew and began to avoid family and friends. Like so many facing mental health challenges, Adam found himself fighting not only his illness but also a system that made care difficult to find and even harder to afford.

In his search for peace, quiet, and relief, Adam made choices that brought heartbreak and loss. Like many who grapple with mental illness and chronic pain, he battled addiction—a disease that preys on vulnerability, suffering, and isolation. Although his family and friends grieve the decisions that led to his death, we know they came from profound suffering, not from a lack of love.

Adam was predeceased by his grandparents, Louis John Sillay Jr. and Laura Lee Sillay, who held deeply important roles in his life. He is also predeceased by a brother-in-law. He is survived by his mother, Laura Sillay Wakefield, his stepfather, Simon Charles Wakefield, his sister, niece, stepsister, and brother-in-law.

Adam was so much more than the struggle that ended his life. He is remembered for the fullness of who he was—intelligent, funny, creative, magnetic, and unforgettable. His unstoppable personality, his laughter, and his love will always be remembered.

May the grief of all who knew and loved Adam kindle greater understanding, deeper kindness, and a more compassionate care for one another.

Donations May be Made in Adam’s Memory to
NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness

(Please include Adam’s name with your gift to ensure it is recorded properly)

Online Memorial Donations may be made at:

www.nami.org/donate (select “Dedicate my donation in honor or in memory of someone” and provide Adam’s name in the “Honoree Name” field)

or

Memorial Donations by Mail to

PO Box 49104, Baltimore, MD 21297

(Please include a note with your gift, whether that be on the memo line of the check or on an attached paper, letting NAMI know that your gift is in memory of Adam Lahr)