Michael "Pappy" L. Helman

Michael Leroy Helman—known as “Pappy” or “The Old Man” to nearly everyone who loved him—passed away peacefully of natural causes on November 26, 2025, in his home in New Albany, Ohio. Born on January 18, 1947, in Columbus, Ohio to Helen Marie and Lee Roy Helman of Pennsylvania, Michael was preceded in death by his parents as well as his siblings, Helen and Arthur Lee. He spent his life working hard, loving fiercely, and telling the truth exactly as he saw it.

Michael learned strength early. After the sudden loss of his mother, he left school in the 7th grade to help support his family. What some might call hardship became the foundation of the work ethic that shaped his entire life. From that moment on, he worked—literally—until the day he died.

In the 1970s, Michael owned a masonry company, mastering tuckpointing and chimney work throughout central Ohio. Later, his business expanded to include landscaping and snow removal services for the Franklin County Board of MRDD. He never took shortcuts, never cut corners, and never showed up without giving 100%. A Marine during the Vietnam era, he kept his service quiet—out of humility and the belief that others needed support more than he did. Only in recent years did he reluctantly agree to accept the benefits he earned.

Michael married Beverly (Robinson) Helman in 1970, and together they built a family:

Michelle (Aaron Barton) Robbins, Teri (Phillip) Mallory, Kimberly (Joshua Griffiths) Helman, and Mikey (Katie) Helman.

Though Michael and Beverly divorced in 1995, they remained inseparable best friends. He continued to care for her every day—clearing her driveway, brushing snow off her car, bringing groceries and gifts, slipping her money when she’d accept it, and loving her with unwavering devotion. He always said he wanted to go before his “Bevy,” because he couldn’t imagine a world without her. True to his word, he did.

Michael lived for his family. Every minute, every decision, every job, every sacrifice—every bit of it was for them. He was fiercely protective and sometimes just plain fierce, never leaving anyone to wonder how he felt. Good or bad, you always got the unfiltered truth.

Michael adored his grandchildren—Caleb Robbins, Cassidy Robbins, Kennedy Helman, Landon Griffiths, and Beckham Griffiths—who all lovingly knew him as Papaw. He also had a soft spot for animals that could melt even his toughest edges. He spoke often of reuniting at the Rainbow Bridge with Ham Bone (Hammy), Mr. Monster (Monster), and Roxy (Mamma). And although he insisted he “didn’t like cats,” absolutely no cat on earth believed him. He had his beloved barn cat, Meow, and was notorious for discovering stray kittens and “accidentally” turning them into new family members.

In his later years, Michael worked at Charter Oaks with his daughter Teri and son-in-law Phil—the man he introduced to Teri himself. There, he was known as “Pappy” or “Old Man,” depending on the day. Tough, honest, loyal, and beloved, he showed up ready to outwork anyone half his age. He looked a bit Amish, talked like a sailor, and never slowed down. He always said he’d work until the day he died—and he did.

Pappy leaves behind a legacy of grit, humor, blunt honesty, stubborn loyalty, and unconditional love. The world will be quieter without him—except for the parts of him living loudly in his children, grandchildren, and every stray cat now receiving unsolicited affection in his honor.

Visitation will be held on Thursday, December 4, from 3:00pm - 6:00pm at Schoedinger Northeast Funeral Home, 1051 E Johnstown Road, Gahanna, OH 43230. A funeral service will take place at Schoedinger Northeast the following afternoon, December 5, at 1:00pm. After the funeral, friends and loved ones are invited to a wake at Flanagan's Pub, 3001 Reynoldsburg-New Albany Road, Blacklick, OH 43004, to continue to share stories, laugh together, celebrate a life well-lived, and remember Pappy the way he would have wanted.

If Michael could say one last thing to his family and friends, it would be this:

“Every day, every job, every sacrifice—it was all for you. You were my reason. My purpose. My pride and joy. My whole heart. So don’t just stand around crying. Tell some stories. Embarrass each other. Argue a little for old times’ sake. Hug your mom. Hug each other. And then head over to Flanagan’s and celebrate me the way I’d want—loudly, lovingly, and with good food. I lived my life my way. I told the truth even when it shocked you. I loved you more than anything. And I’ll be up here keeping a close eye on all of you—so behave… or don’t. I probably won’t. Save me a seat until Bevy gets here. I’ll be waiting.

Love,

The Old Man”