Caulin Grey Tanner

My husband Caulin Grey Tanner was larger than life in so many ways. He was an exceptional person, full of vibrance, passion, humor, and love—and since his passing on March 19th, 2026, the world has become dimmer. He died suddenly and unexpectedly of a pulmonary embolism, leaving behind me (his wife Hannah), our dog Penny, his parents Dave and Lari, siblings Mattie, Cameron, and Rin, as well as my parents and siblings, our extended family members, and many cherished friends. A memorial service will be held on 4/18 at 3pm, in his home state of TX. It will be at 2700 Roundrock trail, Plano TX 75075. All are welcome.

Caulin was born on January 17th, 1996, in Plano, TX, to parents David and Lari Tanner. He was the third of four children, with older siblings Mattie and Cameron, and younger sibling Rin. He is described by his family as an answer to their prayers. As a child he was endlessly curious. He loved putting things together (like Legos) and watching How It’s Made. He was also deeply kindhearted; many family and friends tell stories about how Caulin looked out for others and made sure everyone felt included. He was very involved in Boy Scouts, a passion he shared with his father. Even in adulthood, Caulin would brag about how he became an Eagle Scout at only 13 years old. He graduated from Allen High School in 2014, where he also participated in Marching Band as a percussionist. Those who knew him then describe him as outgoing, silly, caring, and a friend to all.
After high school, Caulin attended BYU, where he initially studied Communications with an emphasis on News Media. This is when I met him, in August of 2016. It was so easy to fall in love with him, because he was just so loveable. We were married on September 29th, 2017, in Portland, Oregon. This was the best day of my life. In the early days of our marriage, while still in undergrad, he worked at BYU Radio. He was known within his program for his creative ideas and desire to feature stories of real human connection.
While he loved Communications, towards the end of his undergraduate degree, Caulin realized his true love was Design. Specifically, he wanted to work in footwear at Nike. Anyone who knew Caulin can attest that he loved footwear more than almost anything else. He picked up a minor in Industrial Design, and despite not having a formal design degree or major, he (in his typical nature) worked doggedly to build connections in the design field. He was exceptional at connecting with people, and I believe this was led by a desire to truly know others, instead of building superficial transactional relationships.
Caulin’s hard work eventually landed him at Purple Mattress, where he worked as a textile designer for a few years. During this time we lived in Salt Lake City, UT, where I attended medical school. In 2020 we added our dog to the family, who we named Penny (after Penny Knight). He worked many smaller independent footwear contracts over the years. To learn more about footwear, he was selected to attend Pensole College of Design in 2023, which was an experience and accomplishment that he was proud of. We moved to Los Angeles in 2024, where I had matched for my OBGYN residency.
He worked hard every day to progress towards his future goal of working for Nike. Finally, in 2025, that dream came true. He started a contract as a Materials Designer for the Training footwear division at Nike. In this role he thrived, quickly adapting to new challenges. I can attest that he was truly ecstatic to be working at Nike, and he wanted to stay there forever. It seemed like the possibilities were just beginning. The future was vast, and our next steps were settling down in Oregon once I finished residency and becoming parents together in the near future.
I have always admired Caulin’s ability to make and keep goals. He was always looking for ways to better himself. For example, a few years ago he decided he wanted to get into running, which culminated in running Hood to Coast in 2023. He was so creative—I truly think his brain just worked differently, because he was always coming up with cool new ideas and solutions. He sought design inspiration from everywhere. Caulin had many hobbies and collections throughout his lifetime, including biking, film photography, shoes, music, and making things. He was great at working with his hands and enjoyed the challenges of building and fixing his bikes, our cars, and anything around the house, to name a few. He had a dream to buy a “fixer upper” house and renovate it himself. He loved learning new skills from YouTube, spoiling our dog Penny, and listening to John Denver and James Taylor. Together, our happy place was the Oregon Coast, where we spent many cherished days.
Despite all his accomplishments, Caulin would say that what mattered most to him was our family. He was such a devoted husband and supported my dreams wholeheartedly from the start. He took such good care of me and made sure I felt loved every single day. He and I loved being married to each other. We used to laugh when people said that “marriage is hard,” because for us it felt so easy and natural. Part of that is because Caulin was just so good at marriage—I used to joke that he was born to be a husband, because he had this innate, vast love that he’d always been waiting to give to the right person. He would have been such a good father.
So much of what made Caulin special was instilled in him by his parents, Dave and Lari. They taught him to be respectful and industrious, while also being silly and warm. He learned to build from his dad and wanted to have a woodshop just like his someday. Together with his parents and siblings, they spent many hours laughing, playing card games, eating good food, and watching their favorite movies. He enjoyed picking out the perfect Christmas gifts for them, and in 2025 everyone got a hand-picked pair of Nike shoes. He was deeply invested in his siblings’ lives and always sought to be a confidant and cheerleader.
Many people also had the privilege of being recipients of Caulin’s vast love and kindness throughout the years. We’ve always known that his reach was far, but since his passing, waves of people that knew him across his lifetime have shared their stories of how he made them feel loved and seen. He had such a natural way of making people feel known and appreciated, even with the smallest of interactions. He was vibrant, brightening any room he entered. He had an excellent sense of humor and loved to laugh, and make other people laugh.
After he passed, I found a note on his phone that he wrote in 9/2024. I’m not sure what the context of this was, but I don’t think he would mind if I shared it, because I think it highlights what a genuinely good person he was.
“The older I grow, the more I discover that kindness is a human necessity. Meeting friends, family, loved ones, and coworkers where they are and doing the hard work to make up the difference together is something I’m trying to do more of in my life. The older I grow, the more I understand that pretty much everyone is exhausted or tackling some difficult aspect of their lives. On those days where things can’t go right, and odds are stacked against you…someone, or even yourself, showing you just a little kindness can make the biggest difference. I’m grateful for kind people, who want to show you their world. The people who want you to be there. The ones that let you learn and grow on your own, but are there as a constant reminder to keep going. I am someone who wants to see YOU succeed. I’m here to ride your wave. To watch you kill it. To be excited at every turn and twist, and offer you kindness. Not because it furthers my career, or means you owe me, but because it’s what good people do, it’s what kind people do.”
As you can see from his words, Caulin Tanner valued kindness and human connection above all else. He was a genuinely good person, the best husband I could ask for, and a cherished son and brother. It is colossally unfair that he was taken from all of us so soon. To everyone who had the privilege to feel his kindness over the last 30 years, we can honor his memory by emulating Caulin in our own lives.