To my brother, My earliest childhood memories were of my brothers. Rob was 10 years older than me and Bruce was 9 years older. I remember when I was about three or four, Rob and Bruce were tussling on the floor. It looked like a modern-day cage fight. They both had each other in a headlock in what looked like some mixed martial arts submission holds. I remember thinking that I needed to stay far away from these guys. I wont go on to describe how much my older brothers picked on me growing up. I will say Rob was the kinder of the two of them. He was always the one to say okay thats enough. I distinctly remember him once saying, Okay Bruce, we better cut Jimmy down... his fingers are turning blue. Both Rob and Bruce grew up as teenagers during the late sixties and early seventies as Hooligans... Grease Monkeys... Troublemakers... Gearheads... Trolls... My role models. In addition to all the shenanigans, Rob found time for his hobbies. There were model rockets, model airplanes and of course the model trains. Mom encouraged those hobbies a great deal. She knew that the more Rob involved himself in hobbies, the less trouble he would get into. Everyone who knew my brother, knew he loved trains and the railroad. What they may or may not know, is that he ALWAYS loved it. When he was a little boy in Toronto, he used to go down to the rail yard and jump on the trains like a hobo. After a while the engineers got to know him. They would let him ride up in the engine. Obviously, the early to mid sixties were a very different time. When Rob graduated high school he took a drafting job, at moms urging. He hated working indoors, with only a small window to look out. It didnt last long. He told her, Mom, I tried it your way. Now, Im gonna go work on the railroad! That was in 1973. Shortly after he went to work for the FEC railroad, he broke his arm in a motorcycle accident. He tried to hide his cast, but he was spotted by FEC management. He had to take a leave of absence until his arm healed. He took a temporary position as a security guard until he got the cast off his arm. Aside from a job pumping gas while still in high school, those were the only other jobs Rob ever had. A few years ago the railroad was restucturing. Rob was considering taking a buy-out. I asked him, what will you do for a living? He jokingly replied, I dont know... maybe get a job pumping gas. We both had a good laugh when I pointed out nobody does that anymore. He often spoke to me about his plans for retirement. He had bought a house lot, just two blocks from his house. He was going to build a four car garage and call it his hobby house. This was to be a place where he could work on his old car or tinker with his... well hobbies. He also planned to consult or contract for the railroad. Lately, it made me sad to think that these were all to just be his broken dreams. I thought about it for a while. Although these particular plans of his will not be fulfilled, he had ALWAYS been living out his dreams. Rob did whatever he cared to do, his whole life. Rob was a railroad fanatic above all, but his second interest was gun collecting. I think it all started back when he took that security guard job. He bought his first pistol for that gig. It was an inexpensive little .38 special. I dont think I will describe accounts of irresponsible behavior. Just refer back to my earlier comment about hooligans. I will say that an interest in things that go bang led to an interest in more things that go bang. Labor Day weekend was the last time that I went to the gun range with Rob. It was shortly before he was diagnosed with cancer. I hadnt seen Rob almost all summer. On Memorial Day weekend we were together with friends and all seemed well. Prior to that, he had been working a lot in down in Miami and Fort Lauderdale. He was staying in a Hotel just near my house. We got to get together for dinner once or twice a week for a period of few months. I am so thankful for that time we had together. On Labor Day, I saw how much weight Rob lost over the summer, I had to hide my shock. Each time I would visit Rob in the following weeks, I would have to build up my courage to see him. It was heart wrenching to see the tough as nails man in such a frail state. I have looked up to Rob my whole life. Its bad enough to loose my beloved brother. To have an insidious disease beat him down so badly, seem just too unfair. When I first sat down to eulogize my brother, I didnt even know how to start. There are countless fun stories to tell. There was a ton of wild and crazy events in our lives. I dont have to tell anybody who knew Rob what a sweet good natured guy he was. He was fun to be around and his friends and family all know that. Im more than willing to share those good stories, but not here... not today... not with a heavy heart. I wont sully my fun, wild and good memories of my brother at a funeral. But, be sure to ask me about the great man while at a cook-out, a poker game, while shooting pool, at the gun range, at the pub, or along side the rail road tracks. For me, those are the places I want his spirit and memory to happily dwell.
Posted on: Sun, 24 Nov 2013 03:18:17 +0000
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