Charles “Drew” Jarvis liked whales, the history of the Titanic, trains, pepperoni cheese pizza, and being on time. He did not like broccoli or contact lenses or emotions. He did not like answering broad questions like, “How was your day?” Charles knew the world to be chaotic and made it less chaotic by placing his snacks in a row, always closing cabinet doors, and maintaining a particular diet. Charles died in his sleep, in his own bed, a few hours before midnight on August 10, 2026.
Charles, the namesake to Dwight Charles Jarvis who preceded him in death, is survived by his mother, Carole Teague Jarvis, his sister, Beth Jarvis, and her husband, Daniel Silliman. Charles was also admired by many aunts, uncles, and cousins. He is survived by June Turner, Gary and Pat Jarvis, and Elsie Ward. Often quiet, Charles had a unique way of speaking when he did want to talk. He would ask his Uncle Gary, “Might I trouble you for a conversation?” And when his father died, he told his sister, “Dad has expired. But we had him for a long time. We were lucky.”
Born January 22, 1978, on the Southside of Atlanta, GA, Drew was a brown-eyed boy who loved fishing on Saturday mornings with his grandpa. At five he got glasses and was diagnosed with learning disabilities, the phrase used at the time for what is now called autism. He was the very first student to be enrolled in the Bedford School, a fact that the principal and founder, Betsy Box, was proud of. When the school later grew, Drew was invited back to hold the shovel at the ground-breaking ceremony.
Growing up, Drew was involved in youth group, getting baptized twice at McDonough Christian Church. He believed the second one took, although he never said what was wrong with the first one. Drew felt loved by his Creator and his Creator never needed Drew to be anything more than himself.
As a young adult, Drew studied at DeVry University, earning an associate’s degree. He worked as a security guard at his sister’s college, then Atlanta Christian College. Then he took a job as a baggage handler at Delta. He always remembered the eerie silence of 9/11 and his assignment to guard a grounded plane on the tarmac.
In adulthood, Drew decided to go by Charles because Drew was someone who was bullied and Charles didn’t need to be. People often didn’t understand Drew or make space for him. The outside world seemed, to him, pretty hostile, and illness complicated his life further in his final years. Charles spent a lot of time in his room playing video games, raking in billions of Grand Theft Auto currency. In this world, Charles was a billionaire. But in our world, Charles was our Drew who took out the trash every Tuesday night, no matter what, was fiercely loyal and loved his cat Max.
As he told the story, he discovered Max on a rainy night in 2012, after driving his father home from North Georgia. A small Maine Coon kitten had stolen a ride on his truck. The kitten let out one big cry at the door and that was that. For 14 years, Max and Charles were inseparable. Despite his own illness, Charles took caring for Max very seriously and Max enjoyed a good life. Max expired six weeks before Charles expired. We had him for a long time. We were lucky.
Charles’s family will hold a private remembrance.
Condolences may be sent to the family online at www.dillow-taylor.com
Dillow-Taylor Funeral Home & Cremation Services, Jonesborough, TN 423-753-3821
