His given name was James, (after my mother's father) Robert, (after my father's father). But from the day he came into our family, (the youngest of 7), he was always called Bobby.
Blond hair, blue eyed, he stood out amongst all of us dark haired and brown eyed older siblings. He had a quick wit, and loved action. His motorcycle riding buddies called him "Bizzer", (because of his first motorcycle). What was not common knowledge outside of a couple of people in our family - was that Bob was not my father's child. I had long suspected it from the time I was around 13. Bob looked just like Ralph, (a friend of my mom's who hung around the house alot). When Bob was discharged, (after serving in the army), he showed me his dog tags, and pointed to the blood type and asked, "Do you know what this means?". I replied, "Yes". He said, "So, do I". And it was never spoken of again, but we both understood well. My father raised Bob as his own, and it was never spoken of in the immediate family.
As an adult, he was known by his friends as Jim, and James. Once, (when he lived for a time in Salt Lake City), he was over at my house visiting me, (and a friend of his was building a garage for me). The three of us were standing outside talking, and of course I was calling him Bobby. All of a sudden, his friend burst into laughter. Bob and I both ask "What?" He replied, "Who's Bobby?" Bob and I looked at each other, questioning, and I explained that it was Bob's family nickname. Sometimes, my dad would jokingly call him as JR, (just as he would jokingly call as Babs).
I know Bob liked to party, and he smoked for years. But, I hope that when he was in the hospital a couple years ago and diagnosed with COPD, that he gave up the cigarettes and tried to clean up his life.
There are now 5 siblings left. My father has buried a wife, his youngest daughter, and now he will bury his youngest son Rest In Peace, Bobby. You will be missed.
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