Trevor Sean Williams

Trevor Sean Williams (a.k.a. Chubbs, T-Chubbs, Bubba, Apeman, The Fun Uncle), 42, of Salt Lake, passed away on July 4, 2026, after a long battle with alcohol, addiction, and depression.

Trevor loved people. Those who knew Trevor, even for a short time, remember his warm smile, welcoming spirit, and unmistakable booming laugh. He had a way of making people feel comfortable and was always ready to lend a hand or lift someone's spirits. His kindness, generosity, and genuine interest in others left a lasting impression on everyone lucky enough to know him.

Trevor loved rugby. He was a proud graduate of Murray High School, went on to play rugby for Weber State, and eventually coached and mentored younger players to love the sport. Rugby was more than just a sport to him—it was a lifelong passion. Many will reminisce of how Trevor would light up when discussing rugby as he would lay out formations and strategies or expound on his favorite teams. He dreamed of one day creating his own rugby apparel line and stayed connected to the game and the friendships it brought throughout his life.

Trevor loved to read. A lot. His curiosity knew no bounds. His personal library included many volumes of political theory, classics, philosophy, and explorations of how to be a better human, but above all he loved science fiction. He loved to read about strange planets and aliens and robots and humans being human in extraordinary circumstances.

Trevor loved to write. He wrote short stories. He wrote screenplays based on life with his buddies. He developed concepts for sci-fi novels. He wrote encouragement to his friends.

Trevor loved Star Wars. He loved Star Wars so much that a solid third of his book collection was based on the Star Wars universe. He loved the way others connected to it. He loved the trivia. He loved the philosophies and obscure theologies. It showed up in the art on his walls, the tattoo on his arm, and in almost every happy childhood memory he shared.

Trevor felt pain. Some of this pain was the product of old sports injuries. Some of it was a gnawing sense that he was not enough. A very big portion was because he was ruled by his relationship with alcohol and desperate to hide how little control he had over it. Many of those who loved him understood that something wasn’t right, but none took in the depth of the struggle and how hard he was fighting to fix it alone even as his liver was actively failing. When he finally acknowledged to his family that he was not ok, everyone showed up. When word spread to his friends, so did they, whether in person or by phone. He was loved and accepted exactly as he was, even as his demons were laid painfully bare.

His final message to all was this:

“I love ya. Appreciate the support. I know I should have opened up sooner, but I always knew that y’all were there for me despite whether or not I acknowledged it, and I did reciprocate it. I didn’t always say it. I always want to support everybody and know you were always there to support me...Love y’all and keep on carrying on.”

He spent his last hour of life thinking only of how to comfort the people he loved. It is our deepest pain that he felt so alone in his darkness for so long.

Trevor was loved. So loved. He was loved dearly by his mother, Marianne Williams, his late father, Terry, his siblings, Kimberly, James (Candice), Troy (Hilary), Travis (Stefanie), and his many nieces, nephews, and friends, but he was loved most especially by little elderly Thomas Rosco Willliams, the pup who defied all odds by outliving him, and Schyeler and Jenny Rich who were unequivocally His People.

In memory of Trevor, please laugh a little harder, check in on your people, and ask for help when you need it. He never wanted anyone in his life to feel alone.

For more about Trevor, his life and memories, as well as his celebration of life, please go to

http://trevor.ihavefriendseverywhere.vip