Travis Krick lived louder throughout his 45 years than most people dare to. He passed away unexpectedly on June 6, 2026, at Crawford Memorial Hospital in Robinson. He was born on December 10, 1980, in Robinson, the son of Terry and Trudy Krick, and from the start, he was the kind of kid who kept a house lively—ornery enough to get away with most of it and charming enough to be forgiven for the rest.
His sisters had him wrapped around their fingers and used him shamelessly. Jennifer once curled his hair and turned him loose to run the block with curlers in, and what’s more, she could frequently talk him into foot rubs. Valerie handled the haircuts. Step-siblings on paper, family in every way that counted. And Travis, ever the mama’s boy, figured out early that if the girls got a “no,” he was the one to send back in for the “yes.” He got away with a lot, too. He once buried his dad’s Bronco in the mud, a job that took two tractors and nearly gave Jay carbon monoxide poisoning when the exhaust clogged. He ditched his own prom to throw a party, then let himself be convinced the state’s attorney was coming for the guest list. He surrendered about ten names. The actual count was north of a hundred.
He took to sports early. He played baseball, but football had his heart. He made his name as a fullback and punter for Robinson High School, where he graduated with the Class of 1999. His love of football only grew. He was a Raiders man, his basement decked floor to ceiling in silver and black. He taught his wife Kristi to follow along by writing out the whole roster, name by name and position by position. He swore he could coach the team better than anyone they hired, threatened to torch his gear every time they lost, and made sure you heard about it by text whenever the Raiders lined up against your squad.
His first real job was at Rural King, but he spent most of his career in the landscaping business, work he was genuinely proud of. He’d photograph what he’d finished and send the pictures to his family, likely describing the finished product as “savage.” “Savage,” after all, was his favorite word, and he meant it as the highest compliment. He was, by every measure, a savage husband and father. To Travis, every day was a party, and the point of a party was making sure everybody else was enjoying it as much as he was. He drank and he smoked and he played his music loud day in and day out, leaning hard on Waylon Jennings and outlaw country with classic rock never far behind. He sang karaoke every chance he got and was convinced he sounded just like Morgan Wallen. He did not.
He had a heart that ran over easily. He cried at songs—happy tears, every time—whether he was playing “That’s My Boy” for Cobin, “Everywhere” while dancing with Kristi, or “I’m the Only Hell My Mother Ever Raised” for his mom. His generosity worked the same way: with no governor on it. He’d hand over a dollar when a dime was all he had, once hitting his mother up for a twenty so a stranger could have his cigarettes. When he was out to eat, he would pay for other people’s meals out of nowhere. He gave like someone who’d never quite been weighed down by being a grownup, and in truth, he wasn’t in a hurry to become one. It took a good while and a special person to get him there.
He met Kristi Tremaine on Facebook, and from there they went back and forth for a while, Kristi waiting on him to become the man she knew he could be. He got there, and he sealed it with Bob Seger’s “You’ll Accomp’ny Me.” They married on September 24, 2022. After an early fight left them on silent terms, Kristi asked for a basset hound puppy, and Kyzer did the reconciling for them. After all, Travis was a dog man down to his bones. But at an even deeper level, he was a family man. Kristi’s kids were his kids, no hesitation, no asterisk, and he told them and showed them constantly. To them, he was “Big Daddy.” For the grandkids still to come, he’d already settled on “Big Pappy.”
To lose him now, this suddenly, leaves an ache that words don’t reach. He had more living he meant to do, more travel, more days he’d have called “savage,” and, of course, the hope of being someone’s “Big Pappy.” We grieve all of it. But the brightest fires leave the longest warmth, and Travis burned bright. That warmth isn’t going anywhere. Be seein’ ya, Travis.
He married Kristi Tremaine on September 24, 2022, and she survives. He is also survived by his sons, Cobin (Kealie) Hayes and Caje Kilpatrick; his daughter, Brick Hayes; his mom, Trudy Seaney; his sisters, Valerie (Jason) Shidler and Jennifer Crampton; his brothers, Justin Krick and Carlos (Gabriela) Cepeda; his aunt, Pam (Mike) Hoke; his sisters-in-law Angie (Chad) Brewington and JoAnna (Nathan) Rupperecht; and his brother-in-law, Tyler Turner. He is also survived by several nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and, of course, his dogs, Kash, Kruize, and his best friend and basset hound, Kyzer. He was preceded in death by his dad, Jay Seaney; his grandparents, Roy and Pauline Hill and David and Judy Krick; his uncle, Todd Krick; and four cousins.
A time of visitation will be held from 1:00 to 3:00 p.m. on Friday, June 12th, at the Goodwine Funeral Home in Robinson. Funeral services will immediately follow at 3:00 p.m. at the funeral home with Celebrant Curt Goodwine officiating. During the service, there will be a time of sharing, providing friends and family with the opportunity to speak to the light he was. Donations may be made to his memorial fund, with checks made payable to “Goodwine Funeral Homes.” Memorials may also be made online by following this link.
Burial will be in the Palestine Cemetery.
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