Justin St. Louis
Dr. Bob, as we knew him in Scouting, was one of the most formative mentors of my life. But calling him a mentor doesn't quite capture it. He was a friend and a brother, and over the years, Bob and Suzy essentially became a second set of grandparents to me.
I first met Bob more than 15 years ago, when I was around 13, just after I was inducted into Scouting's honor society in Massachusetts. At the end of that induction weekend, Bob was one of the first people to greet me, congratulating me with that infectious smile while carrying a birthday cake for a close friend, then leading the whole group in singing happy birthday. That was Bob in a single moment. He was always for others.
The following weekend, at a gathering of Scouts from across New England, there was a competition among teams who perform the induction ceremonies. Bob was the adult coach, and he noticed how intently I watched and how many questions I asked afterward. He saw potential in me that I could not yet see in myself, and he brought me onto the team on the spot.
For years after, we spent weeknights and weekends together, with Bob often making a four-plus hour round trip from his home in Sunapee, NH to northern Massachusetts to coach us. Bob had a rare gift. He made you feel like the most important person in the room. He asked questions instead of passing judgment, and he had a way of helping you see both your potential and your path to reaching it. Under his coaching, our team won the national award for ceremonial excellence out of more than 260 chapters across the country. We were so proud of that, but we all knew the truth: it was only possible because of Bob.
Bob loved to joke that the Scout Oath and Law were "a stubborn thing." It always got a laugh, but that was the point. He was reminding us how lucky we were to have guideposts that don't bend (the Scout Oath and Law), a fixed way to navigate every moral and ethical decision life would throw at us.
That experience gave me confidence, made me a public speaker, and gave me some of my closest lifelong friends. The confidence Bob built in me carried me into elected leadership roles in the organization, and before every one of them, I would call Bob to talk through my vision, my goals, my speech. He was always one of my biggest advocates.
He stayed that way for the rest of his life. Bob was one of the first calls I made before every big decision: where to go to school, which job to take, how to think about the questions that matter. His wisdom even helped lead me to my wife. Bob once told me that one of the greatest joys of marriage is having someone who is always for you, and anyone who saw Bob and Suzy together knew he was speaking from experience. When I met my wife, I understood exactly what he meant. He once wrote to me that I was now living in a much larger world than the one I grew up in and learning to navigate it well, and that learning from good people and enjoyable experiences never has to stop. He lived that belief every day, and he made sure those around him did too.
Some of my favorite memories are the visits, which felt like going to see family because that's exactly what it was. Hiking with Gilly in Sunapee in the summer and fall. Bob teaching me to ski in the winter, then making sure I had boots, skis, and everything I needed. Later, after he and Suzy moved to Hilton Head and then to the Daytona area, my annual trip to see them became a highlight of every year. All of these trips the days that followed were full of golf (which he also taught me, and yes, also set me up with clubs), walks along the beach with Gilly, great meals, and even better conversation. No matter how much time had passed, we always picked up right where we left off, like no time had passed at all.
I know I will never fill Bob's shoes, but I hope to spend my life trying to pass on what he gave me. To show up for people the way he showed up for me, to ask the questions instead of passing the judgment, to see the potential in someone before they can see it in themselves, and to be always for others, the way he was for me. If I can be even a small part of that for someone else, it will be because of him.
To Bob's family: thank you for sharing him with so many of us.
He changed more lives than he ever would have admitted.
Rest well, Dr. Bob. I am grateful, you will be dearly missed.
