I Had A Friend

I first met Bobby during football practice in the summer of 1965. I was a skinny little freshman trying football for the first time in my life, and Bobby was a junior, trying out for quarterback on the JV team. Though I didn't know it then, this was only the first time I was to watch Bobby let one of his grand ideas quickly fall by the wayside when something else caught his fancy. He didn't last the week at football practice.

My next introduction to Bobb was when I was invited to join a trio of young "gentlemen" from Castorland in a band. I had been playing guitar for a couple of years by that time and was invited to try out as a bass player. I made the band, and did my first couple of jobs playing bass on a six string guitar with the bass tone turned all the way up. When I think about that, I still shudder.

One thing that never made me shudder though was Bobby's voice. He had the purest, cleanest tenor you ever laid ears on. When he sang "Cara Mia", a song by Jay and the Americans, it was a delight to listen to. Harmonies came easy to him; everything about his voice just seemed effortless, and for the rest of his life, if you needed someone to hit those high notes - Bobb was your man. His guitar work never progressed much beyond what he knew by 1975, but his showmanship did.

I knew Bobb's father because I used to spend an inordinate amount of time in Castorland at his parents house. His mother was, and still is, a wonderful woman, and the only one who gave Bobby the love that he wanted from both parents. A dour, almost speechless man, I have no idea how he grew into the emotionless man I saw, but I always felt so lucky knowing I had my Dad.

On a lovely Sunday afternoon this past September, I played with Bobby for the last time at a party up at Brantingham Lake. We had even gotten together the Friday prior to go over a few songs and select stuff from "The Book", that we would play on Sunday. As I prepared to leave that Sunday, I was asked to play longer, but having lost all desire to ever play again, I said no, but Bobby offered to stay. He was heading for Florida towards the end of September and said he could use the gas money. I let him use some of my equipment, which he dropped off on my front porch when I wasn't home later that week.

Driving home from Albany yesterday, I suddenly thought about Bobby and wondered if he'd found a laptop or PC to log onto yet. He had setup his new email address as "flbobb" and told me to try it after he'd been down there a couple of weeks.

On business in Malone today, I got a call just before noon and learned that Bobby had died yesterday, October 3, 2007. I have no details, nor do they matter one whit.

Another voice, a beautiful voice of my youth, is silent. A friend of 42 years, the only older brother I ever knew, has left.

I have recordings of us together, and I intend to listen to them - I just don't know when yet.

I love you Bobby.