It is with great sadness, and a heavy heart, that I write of the passing of my dearest friend and lifelong mentor, Bob Wood. Ive known Bob since I was 17 years old. He was one of my closest, best friends. He was my mentor, my most trusted advisor, and though not related to me by blood, he was family to me. In many ways, he took over the role that my Grandfather would have filled had he not been tragically killed when I was 14. I know the feeling was mutual as Bob often said to me, Zach, if I had a son, he would be just like you. Bob was a truly extraordinary man. Born into poverty in Virginia, he left home at 17, hitch hiking across the United States before joining their Air Force, where he served in Europe before being stationed in Puerto Rico. After he was discharged, Bob moved to Cincinatti and took a job at a factory. It was during this period (late 1950s) that Bob actually met and knew my Grandfathers older brother, T. Bob lived in the rough working class neighborhood of Over the Rhine, which is where my a lot of my Grandfathers family lived at the time. Bob frequented the same dive bars as T (The Silver Dollar and Sway, I think) and he was present the night that T was killed in a knife fight. I had no idea that Bob shared this history with my family until a year ago. We were having dinner after seeing a Broadway show here in NYC, as we often did. I happened to mention my long lost Grand Uncle T..as I knew he lived in Cincinatti the same time Bob did. Bobs face went white and he said T..T-Bone. Yes, I knew him. I was there the night he was killed in that knife fight. If anything, this was proof that on some level, Bob and I were intended to meet. These days, no one outside of my family knew that Ts nickname was T-Bone. In the mid 1960s Bob moved up to Columbus to attend Ohio State. After graduation, Bob became a 5th grade teacher at a Columbus Public School on the East Side. Though it was a rough area, Bob loved his job and he loved his students. Bob taught for 30 years and was awarded Educator of the Year several times. I think he must have been an amazing teacher. In another twist of fate, my best friend Miles Curtiss met Bob during this period...Miles didnt have Bob as a teacher, but would sit in Bobs classroom while waiting for his bus to another city school. Bob always spoke highly of Miles. After Bob retired, he became a patron of the arts. He hung out at coffee shops in downtown Columbus and befriended many a young artist and college student. Bob liked being around younger people because his peers were, in his own words, Boring. All they do is talk about TV. Bob was also a member of the Wexner Center for the Arts (the Columbus equivalent of MoMA) and worked at the Topiary Garden downtown. It was during this period that I met Bob. I was 17 and a senior in high school. I lived in a crime and poverty ridden neighborhood downtown called The Bottoms (its real name is Franklinton, its the oldest part of Columbus). Sick of being beat up by my peers on the West Side, I had begun to hang out with artists and college students in the Arts District/OSU Campus area. Frequenting an all night coffee shop called Insomnia, I became friends with a lot of OSU students, grad and undergrad, many of whom were artists or at least really into art and music. We were a bunch of outsiders in a sense, and it was thru these circles that I met Bob. I remember meeting Bob for the first time. It was at a Birthday party. Bob came over to me, introduced himself, and the first thing he said to me was this: You need to move to New York City. You see, Bob lived in Columbus, and he loved Columbus, but, at heart, Bob Wood was a New Yorker. He loved this city. Starting in the mid 1970,s Bob has been coming to NYC several times a year, staying in the Edison Hotel, seeing the Broadway shows he loved, and getting into a lot of trouble in the West Village and the Lower East Side. I cannot repeat the stories that Bob told me of his adventures in 1970s and 1980s NYC, but let me tell you this....that man lived. I mean...he LIVED. Most of Bobs friends dont know the details of this side of his life, as he was very private. I was privileged that Bob told me about these adventures, and though I cannot repeat them here, let me just say....Bob was the embodiment of NYCs spirit of adventure, possibility, and illicit fun. So, when Bob and I met, the first thing he said to me was: You need to go to New York City. Of course, living in NYC had been my goal since I was about 5, but, when you come from the completely bleak shithole that was the West Side of Columbus in the 80s and 90s, NYC seemed very, very far away. All through my undergrad period at Ohio State, Bob and I forged a deep meaningful friendship. We saw films together, went to art shows, and spent countless hours talking about music, film, politics, and life at Buckeye Donuts, which became the hangout in the mid 2000s for weirdo artsy types after Insomnia closed. Not only did Bob and I deepen our friendship during late night conversation in the Buckeye Donuts, which we simply called The Shop, but many other deep friendships were made as well. The owner of Buckeye Donuts, Jimmy Barouxis, became one of my best and closest friends, and his wonderful family became an extended family (and helped keep me connected to my Greek roots). I met my best friend Steyven Curry II, at the shop, my best friend Michael OHeron worked at the shop, and I also developed friendships with wonderful people like Shane Hankins, Julian Dassai, Mike Gifford, Frank Piccirillo, and many more. I know that for a lot of his life, Bob felt like an outsider. He liked being friends with artists and folks who had rough and/or economically challenged childhoods because he identified with them. Bob had friends of all ages. One night he would be at a Museum gala with the Mayor, the next night, he would be at a downtown art show, or watching a band play at some hole on the wall punk club. He loved the arts and loved being around creative people. Indeed, my very first show playing music was at a legendary Columbus punk rock club called Bernies....Bob was there. My very first art show was at a now defunct industrial art space called the BLD. Bob was there. My dear friend Sharon Kim played in a killer postpunk band called Frostiva....Bob ran their merch table! What other 60-70 year old would be a part of this world, and then go to a dinner with the Mayor the next night? Bob Wood, thats who. All through my undergrad period, on top of our many evenings of having dinner, seeing films, discussing politics, Bob never let let me forget that I needed to move to NYC after I graduated. At one point, I considered moving to Chicago....because it seemed easier and less scary. Upon telling Bob this, he told me the following: NO. Zach, you cannot go to Chicago. It is not the same. You are a New Yorker. You may have never been to New York, but its your home, you were born a New Yorker. You dont have a choice, you need to go to New York City. Your future is in New York. Trust me on that. I graduated from OSU in 2009. Bob wore a t shirt from the Angelika Film Center to my graduation....to, in his words, remind you of your next move. Shortly after I graduated, I saved up $2,000 and found a room in Bed-Stuy on Craigslist. I bought a 3 AM Amtrak ticket, Cleveland to NYC. My last night in Columbus I spent at Buckeye Donuts. I only told a few people I was leaving. Bob was one of them (along with my parents and a few close friends). He gave me some good words of advice, told me not to be afraid, and he filmed me driving off in a friends car to Cleveland, where I would take a train to start my new life. I had never actually been to New York City before I got on the train to move here. I didnt really know anyone here (except for Nick Cesare, who met me at Penn Station and showed me which trains to take to my new apartment in Brooklyn). I didnt have much money, no job....it was, well, it was scary. I tend to be very private about my fears and I dont often voice them. Bob kept me going. Through countless emails, phone calls, and text messages, Bob reminded me to never be afraid, to grab the bull by the horns, and to live. I hustled. I walked into Manhattan every day to apply for jobs. Then I worked a lot of shitty jobs, and I was broke. But Bob was always there to remind me of my inner strength and resolve, and to keep going. Of course, as it has turned out slightly over half a decade later, New York City has been very good to me. I have a wonderful life here, filled with wonderful people. I might not have that if Bob hadnt always pushed me to love to NYC. Years later, Bob told me this: The same drive and courage you had to take that train to New York was the same courage that drove me to leave Virginia and explore the world. Bob and I had many, many good times here in NYC. Bob visited the city several times a year. He would usually stay for a week, and we would often have dinner and coffee several times, and we would always go see a Broadway show. Bob often told me I was the only friend he had who shared his deep love of musical theater, and I guess thats true. I love musicals! Bob knew a good ticket broker, he would always get us the best seats. We saw Cabaret, Book of Mormon, Evita (Marc Anthony was sitting behind us!), and many more. After the show, we would often have dinner at Red Lobster (which is actually my all time favorite place to me, and its where we met Kristina Tinoco, who Bob always asked about) and then head downtown for drinks in the East Village or LES. We would often stay out until 3 or 4 AM, having the deepest of conversations. These were special times, and whenever Bob came to NYC, I always kept my schedule for that week clear. It was as important to me as a family visit, as a matter of fact, it WAS a family visit. As I came into my own in New York, I always felt such a deep sense of gratitude to Bob. In many ways, I owe the life I have here in part to him. The last time I saw Bob was in Columbus this past Christmas. The night before Xmas Eve, we had a long, deep dinner at our favorite hangout, The Blue Danube. I last saw Bob the Saturday after Xmas. We had coffee at Buckeye Donuts and made plans to meet up in NYC the week of March 31st. We had tentative plans to go see Hedwig and the Angry Inch. The last words I said to Bob were this: Im gonna miss you, but this isnt goodbye! See you in New York on March 31st! Bob smiled at me and said, You know I cant wait to come back to my real home! See you in New York! Thats how we always said goodbye to each other: See you in New York! I had no idea that would be my last interaction with Bob. He seemed so healthy and was glowing with life. I guess death comes when it wants to. But I am glad that our last interaction was in Buckeye Donuts, and I am glad that we parted making plans for the future. Bob was always about looking to the future. He was always positive and never held resentment or angry feelings. I am trying to emulate that in my own life. Matter of fact, I always told Bob that he was my role model for old age...and its true. Well into his 70s Bob lived life to the fullest. He loved seeing films, going to concerts, and he loved music too. Bob and I shared a deep love for the music of the Pet Shop Boys and Scissor Sisters. One of the best memories I have of Bob is from the summer of 2012, when I took Bob to see Scissor Sisters play at Terminal 5. I got him a shirt and everything. It was a magical night. I was working a Scissor Sisters record for my day job at the time, and through the course of that, I got to interview Jake Shears. I told Jake how much Bob loved the Scissor Sisters, and he seemed touched by that. Bob was just overjoyed Jake knew his name! I am gonna miss Bob. He was a unique, special, one of a kind person, and he supported me at a time in my life when I felt invisible. He also had a passion and love for life itself, as well has a healthy disregard for the conventions of society. He was so inspiring. Bob had a long and fruitful life. He did everything he wanted to do. He touched and inspired everyone who knew him. I dont feel he left unfinished business...but man.....I am gonna miss him. But I know Bob is gonna be in New York City a lot more often now, since he doesnt have to fly in a plane, or book a hotel...and he can see all the Broadway shows he wants for free! Every time I saw Bob, up until the end, he would always ask me to do my impression of Marlene Dietrich in the Orson Welles film Touch of Evil for him. At the end of the film, Marlene Dietrich says: He was some kind of a man. I must do a pretty good Dietrich impersonation because Bob never tired of seeing me do this. I must have done this impersonation for him, literally, hundreds of times. And you know...really...thats what I think all of us who were fortunate enough to have Bob Wood in our lives can say about him. He was some kind of a man.. Robert Hawthorne Wood III, who preferred to simply be called Bob Wood, was a giant of a man, and those of us who knew him will never forget him. He was special. If I had my way, the lights of Broadway would be dimmed tonight. I cant make that happen, but tonight I can raise a glass in Bobs honor, and I intend to do so. I know he is gonna be sitting with me smiling, shaking his, head, and saying what he always said to me when I expressed a concern about this health: Oh Zach....dont you worry about me. Ill be just fine. I think so. We love you Bob.
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 18:07:09 +0000
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