Chuck Nieson

Chuck Nieson, beloved husband, father, grandfather, teammate, and forever‑young baseball fan, passed away peacefully on April 8, 2026, at the age of 84. He was born on New Year’s Day 1943 in a modest house on the north side of St. Paul, where the scent of fresh‑cut pine and the crack of a leather ball were as much a part of his childhood as breakfast cereal. From the moment he could grip a glove, Chuck was on the diamond, dreaming of the big leagues while his mother stitched his uniform with love and his father taught him the value of a hard swing and an honest handshake. In 1964 Chuck realized that dream, stepping onto the mound for the Minnesota Twins and pitching in two unforgettable games. Though his Major League career was brief, the memory of that bright summer night, when a roaring crowd cheered his fastball and his teammates clapped him on the back, stayed with him forever. He’d often sit on the porch with his grandchildren, a well‑worn baseball cap tipped back, and recount the feeling of the stadium lights, the smell of fresh grass, and the camaraderie of the locker room. “It wasn’t the fame,” he’d say with a twinkle in his eye, “it was the friendships you make and the way the game brings people together.” Those stories sparked a love of the sport in his three children—Linda, Mark, and Susan—who still gather every spring for a family‑sided game in the backyard, each swing echoing Chuck’s gentle encouragement: “Keep your eye on the ball, but don’t forget to enjoy the sunshine.” Beyond baseball, Chuck’s heart beat for the simple pleasures that made life rich. He was an avid fisherman, rising before dawn to cast his line on Lake Superior, patiently waiting for the tug that reminded him of the patience he’d learned on the mound. He loved tinkering in his garage, restoring vintage radios and teaching his grandsons how to solder a circuit, his voice softening as he whispered, “Every piece has a story, just like every person.” Music filled his home—classic rock on vinyl, a harmonica tucked in his pocket for impromptu jam sessions that turned kitchen tables into stages. He found joy in gardening, coaxing tomatoes and roses to bloom, each harvest a reminder of growth and care. Chuck’s impact rippled far beyond his own family. Former teammates still call him “the guy who made everyone feel like a starter,” recalling his knack for lifting spirits after a tough loss with a joke or a warm cup of coffee. Neighbors remember his open door, the porch swing that was always available for a chat, and the way he’d volunteer to coach little league, teaching kids not just how to throw a curveball but how to shake hands after a game, win or lose. His generosity extended to the local shelter, where he donated his beloved baseball memorabilia, hoping to inspire kids who might never have seen a game up close. He is survived by his loving wife of 60 years, Margaret; his children Linda (Mike) Hart, Mark (Jenna) Nieson, and Susan (Greg) Alvarez; six grandchildren—Emily, Jacob, Maya, Lucas, Zoe, and Ethan—who will carry his stories forward; and a community forever grateful for his gentle strength, humor, and unwavering love. As we say goodbye, we picture Chuck walking toward the sunset, a baseball in his hand, a smile on his face, and the comforting knowledge that his legacy will keep playing on in every laugh, every swing, and every sunrise he loved so dearly. Rest easy, dear Chuck—you’ll always be home in our hearts.