On the Death of a Friend

My friend, Bob Wooldridge, died on Saturday.  While skateboarding with his son, Bob was struck by a car and killed.

To many people, Bob and I might seem unlikely friends.  But, you've heard of "office wives" and "office husbands?"  Bob was my "office brother."

Like my biological brothers, he was one of a handful of people who could make me laugh with abandon until I cried. Like my brothers, he didn't let me take myself too seriously, made gentle jokes at my expense (okay, sometimes they were not so gentle), and told me when I acted too much like the bossy, older sister that I am. Just as my brothers have always been, Bob was there for me when I needed him  And, when my mom was dying this past spring, many afternoons he sat in my pod, handed me a box of tissues, and pretended not to notice while I tried not cry.

Bob and I were Army brats and like most adults who grew up as military dependents, we bonded when we recognized shared childhood experiences and characteristics. Those included frequent re-locations, an ability to mimic the moves and accents of others, and -- even though shy or when feeling uncomfortable -- the capability of talking to anyone and everyone from anywhere and everywhere... even when we shouldn't. 

As a grown-up brat, Bob struggled with the confict between a healthy respect for authority and a sometimes uncontrollable urge to rebel.  For instance, Bob often called our editorial guidelines and style manuals "mean-spirited and inherently evil."

Bob played the cynical, jaded curmudgeon very well; but at heart he was an idealist with a strong core of values about friendship and family, especially family. He adored Val, "Stix" and "Lulu."  He said, more than once, when I asked him how the family was, "They're so beautiful it makes me want to cry."  .

Bob had friends all over the country and probably throughout the world. Yet, I got the sense from him that he shared a feeling many of us who grew up in military families integrated into our self images... that we were and are easily forgotten because we passed through so many places for such short period of times.  In Bob's case, that would be terribly inaccurate because he was eminently memorable. 

Everyone who ever met Bob liked him. You could not ignore his quick wit, his intelligence or his talent. The people I've spoken to since yesterday invoke the same image when remembering Bob. The words they use are "kind," "helpful," and "so funny."  That was Bob.  And that is who he will always be to me.  I will miss him.

Bob Wooldridge Children Family Life Boomers Military Brats

Comments

[Stacey]

I met Bob through AOL, and he proved himself to be a wonderful friend. My heart goes out to you for your loss, and know that you're not the only one who thinks that the world sucks just a little bit more this evening.

[natalie]

My Deepest Condolences with your loss of such a wonderful person and dear friend. People like Bob don't come around that often.
natalie

[Jackie]

My condolences go out to you, as well as others touched by Bob in their lives.

I didn't know him, but I indeed knew of him. He touched AOL's community members with his dedication. This is very sad news indeed.

[Jeff Simmermon]

I knew Bob, too, and I can tell you that this tribute to him is dead-on. So sad, but such a spectacular human being he was...

[Heather Perram]

Bob is love. There wasn't a spare seat or a dry eye at his memorial service.