Barber Bob Part Two

Our community in the Heights never showed more clearly than during celebrations or hardship. We’ve carried this sense of belonging from our early days there to wherever we are now, across the globe or in the same area.

Back in December, I wrote a post about Barber Bob. He’d thanked me for sharing memories of growing up in the Heights and we met for lunch to continue the pleasure. I met him again at my Cracker Barrel with his wife Karen, when we promised not to deluge her with our childhood memories, but hear about their life since then.

Both occasions were as sparking as a party.

I received a message from Bob this week that his health is not going well. “Hail to Old Avondale,” he says, but adds that his remaining kidney now requires dialysis. Sadness, Bob. At our age, there are so many health issues, and some of us have gone ahead to the Sacred Realm.

So, on Father’s Day, it seemed appropriate to share an article with you about Barber Bob when he was only 22. Not only does it show his determination and energy level, it highlights the kind of man he was and is. After all, this is a day to commemorate what we admired and loved in our fathers.

Fathers. Certainly, we had all kinds. Mine is gone now, and we all miss him—his wisdom, his humor, and yes, even his advice. Dad read almost constantly, was brilliant and interested in everything, a man of faith, music, a man proud of his country and his service to it, a man who loved my mother beyond the day he died and did his best for his children.

Bob has children, too, who love him, even more than we do. Many of you are fathers, whether you produced them or inherited them or nurtured them, and we all had fathers.

During my early years in the Heights, neighbors took up collections for each other in times of sickness or hospitalization or funerals. They carried hot casseroles and desserts to those unable to cook, and our lightning-speed rumor network made certain that we knew when there was need, (as well as juicy tidbits).

I associate that kind of caring with the Heights, and miss it in my current small town, although my neighborhood tries to keep that sense of kinship alive.

You will see that sense of caring in this article about Bob, and he continues to live his life in this kind of service where he can, in love for his wife, family and community, and interest in everyone around him.

Happy Father’s Day, Bob, and thank you for sharing this article.

Happy Father’s Day to all of you.