In Memoriam by David Grimm L'98, delivered at memorial service 12/22/01

I had the pleasure of meeting Bobby my freshman year at Lawrenceville. I’ll never forget how comfortable he made me feel from the moment I met him. Coming from a small grammar school it wasn’t easy for me to make friends, but Bob somehow got me over my shortcomings and made me feel like I’d known him my whole life. I remember the first time he came over my house… even though the best part of the day for Bob was probably the Burger King we had for lunch, it was one of the best days of my life because I knew I had made a true friend.

In fact, I could always count on Bob to get me through anything. Even when I had one of the most perplexing of life’s problems on my mind, WOMEN, I could always count on Bobby for sound advice. Actually, Bob used to always say that he would someday make me into a suave and debonair individual like himself, but I know that I would only be kidding myself if I ever thought I could be as good with the ladies as Bobby.

I’ll never forget Bob’s ever-present guitar either. From the long days at the beach to the dreary-eyed nights in the Frezza’s basement, Bob and his guitar were always there for entertainment. Even though the beach sing-alongs at times rivaled cats howling at the moon, we always had the company of good friends, and an even better guitar player.

Actually, there is a really good story about the beach that I thought I would share to everyone here. One day during the summer after our senior year of high school, Bob and I went down to the beach and after a couple of hours of swimming and sunbathing were ready to leave. The only problem was that the rear-view mirror had fallen off of the windshield because of the heat and Bob, being the impeccable driver that he was, couldn’t see anything behind him and so was far from comfortable driving the 70 some miles home without a rearview mirror. So, long story short, the hour and a half long ride home involved me holding the rearview mirror, along with a bag full of skittles and goldfish (because Bobby needed snacks), on the dashboard so that he could see somewhat out of the back of the car and me attempting to tell Bob whether there were cars that he couldn’t see. The latter I quite obviously erred on just a few times as noted by the honks and less-than-friendly gestures fellow drivers gave us as they passed. But, even though we probably were breaking every major traffic law in existence, we still had a lot of fun, which was always one of Bob’s highest concerns, and practically laughed all the way home.

I’ll never forget the long nights of playing magic and pool at Bob’s house either, even though I have tried quite hard because I got beaten so many, many times. No matter how hard I tried, he was always one step up on me, and could always seem to make just one more ball in the side pocket. Now, whether that was because Bob made some super advanced computer algorithm to teach him how to cut balls into the pocket, or because he practiced so much, didn’t really matter much, because in the end, it was always me who would rack them up for another game.

Yes, there are a lot of things that I will remember about Bob and my times with him at Lawrenceville, but the most important is how much he loved his family and friends. Bob was so caring and genuine that I could never imagine meeting anyone who could even come close to showing the compassion and inherent goodwill he had. Bob was always there for long talks in the bowl, conversations on the phone, or discussions in the Upper common room and there was never anything he wouldn’t help a friend with. Yet, even though I, as one of Bob’s friends, saw him at some of his most caring moments, his love was his family. I can remember how proud he was of Brian when he got into Carnegie Mellon, and I’ll never forget the love he had for his mom who helped him through the first years of his diabetes and his dad who he could always confide in when he needed advice.

Bob helped me, along with many others, through countless trials and tribulations as both of us matured and made our way through Lawrenceville, and I will never forget what he did for me, and the smile he always had on his face. Whether it be in his expertise with computers, his way with words, or his ability to make you smile no matter what type of mood you were in, Bob always had the right response to any and all problems you could through at him. Bob was one of the truest friends I have ever, and will ever have, and I hope that everyone who knew him realizes how lucky they truly are.