Remembering Bob Willson

November 27, 1953 to April 11, 2007

Fireman Bob, Racer Bob or Slider, Scouter Bob, Biker Bob, Pilot Bob, Big Brother Bob, Little Brother Bob, Son Robby, Uncle Bob, Dad, Grandpa Bob, Bobby, Baby or….. just plain… Bob. Whatever name you knew him by, Robert Allan Willson was born in Smithers, B.C. on November 27, 1953. 

How do you capture 53 wonderful years and a few bad months into 15 minutes? You can’t. But hopefully I can share some thoughts and stories from those closest to Bob so you get a more complete picture of Bob’s life. Bob wanted this to be a Celebration of his life, so don’t be afraid to laugh, that’s what Bob wanted, I know that, he told me so. 

Bob’s Dad Glen passed away in 1982, but he is survived by his Mom Darlene, his older sister Linda, his younger brothers Spike, Jim, Frankie, Donald and his younger sister Shelley. He also has three step-siblings Pauline, Elwood and Kurt and a step father Paul Komonski. There are also many, many nieces and nephews and great nieces and great nephews to mention, so many in fact, that Bob couldn’t keep track, but almost all of the family is still in B.C. and Alberta. There’s also Auntie Louise Dubuc, Glen Willson’s sister, who was like a Gramma to Bob’s children. 

Bob’s family moved to Dragon Lake when Bob was only a year and a half old, where he grew up and went to Dragon Lake Elementary. He played hockey and like all boys, he liked to get into mischief. Bob had fond memories of Dragon Lake and often told me of the many swans there before they killed off the squaw fish. Bob being the second born also had to baby sit, although according to Shelley, Bob’s idea of babysitting was tying his sister up in the basement and shutting off the lights. 

Bob always wanted to be a firefighter. When he was young he joined the Junior Forest Wardens. Because both his Mom and Dad raced cars, the family weekend picnics were often spent at the race track. It’s clear to see where Bob got his mechanical abilities from, working on those stock cars with his Dad. 

There was one time when Bob was about 14, that his Mom recalls, that he and his brother Don went over to some friends and got into their home made wine. When it was time to come home, Bob got on the back of the motorcycle and Don drove, except that Bob passed out while hanging on the back and dragged his feet all the way home, wearing out the bottoms of his shoes. Mom was furious and Don swears he didn’t drive. Helpful sis tried to sober him up by getting him to drink some milk, which Bob kept heaving up, complaining the milk was sour. And, when she checked it, indeed it was – a little payback perhaps? 

Wanda and Bob were high school sweethearts and they got married in June 1974. Stacey was born on March 19, 1975 and Lance was born March 15, 1977. Stacey married Trevor Poole and they have Tyler, Megan, Katie and Julia which are Bob’s only grandchildren. Lance remains a steadfast bachelor.

Anna and Bob started dating in January 1997 and Bob moved in with her in November of that year. Anna brought with her two more children, Joe and Shelby, into Bob’s life and heart. Bob and Anna were married in a small home ceremony this past December. Bob even went out and bought a brand new pair of blue jeans for the wedding. 

Bob was truly a generous and giving man. His sister Linda recalls her house burning down and the following week Bob and his brothers showed up unannounced to build her a new one. 

When Bob’s Dad passed away, his wish was to be cremated and his ashes scattered. Bob was left in charge of that as the eldest son. For many years, the cardboard box of his father’s ashes sat on top of Bob’s refrigerator. One day Bob called his sister Linda and asked what he should do with them, she thinks he talked to all the family and got all of their advice, before he cemented the ashes into the front step of his house. He never told anyone what he had done, until he went to sell the house. He then called his big sister again and said, “What do I do with Dad?” He then had to explain what he had done. He didn’t know what to do, should he bring the steps with him? Should he bury the steps in the cemetery with a headstone? Picture that in your mind. Again, after asking everyone’s advice, he left the steps there and sold the house to the unsuspecting new owner.

After his Dad’s passing, Bob was also responsible for bringing the family boat to Mammot Lake for the annual family reunion. Bob did that every year for the past 22 years and he also organized the canoe races. Bob’s family was important to him.

Bob had a motorcycle accident in 1991 and he was very seriously injured, cheating death, he was told he would never walk again because of the damage to his pelvis. Not the right thing to say to Bob. Bob was more concerned about his lost cowboy boot – “I don’t want some dog stealing it” he said, but it never was found.

Bob had to wear this metal ring around his waist, called a halo, to keep his bones properly aligned while they healed. It had two ends and pins that went through to his bones. “It’s sort of weird” said Bob, “When I flick this end, I feel it in my ...I can't say that word in church Bob!...well, you know, back there, and when I flick this end I feel it in my eyeballs.”

Just after getting his halo removed, and still walking with a cane, Bob asked Wayne if they could go hunting. Bob loved to go hunting. This was only three months after his accident, the one where he would never walk again. Wayne chose an area where Bob could keep to the road above and Wayne could go through the bush below. About an hour later, Wayne noticed a flash of hot pink in the bush ahead, it was the collar of Bob’s pullover. “What the hell are you doing in the bush, what would you do if you lost your cane?” Bob replied he would use his “Hunting Partner” and held up his rifle. From that point on, Bob’s rifle was known as his “Hunting Partner”. There’s lots of stories like that under that old Brown Hat that Bob wore hunting.

Bob loved to race cars, came naturally from his Mom and Dad, who also both raced cars. His first race car was a Ford Comet which he called #1. His next race car was a Stock Car, a Mercury Cougar which he called #21, Bob’s number, that would be on all his subsequent race cars.

The Stock Car club was in financial trouble in the 70s and fell into receivership. Bob convinced the bank that he could raise enough money by organizing a new event. Bob had participated in these events elsewhere and they were a huge crowd pleaser. It was called a “Hit to Pass” or a “Crash to Pass”. It was the Summer of 1980 and the first Crash to Pass was the biggest gate draw and money maker of the year. The Club started paying off its debt and the Crash to Pass became the opener for Billy Barker Days as it is today and has been for every year since then.

Bob Thompson once asked Bob “How much money can you win out of this?” Bob replied about a hundred bucks. “But how much does it cost to run in this race?” Bob said it cost him about $500. “Bob, that’s not good business, why do you do that?”  “Bob pointed up to the stands and he said “I do it for them, I do it for the fans.” That was Bob.

One of Bob’s first crash cars, that he raced out of town, was called “Make mine a 69” and it had “Slider” written on the car as Wayne recalls. I’m not sure of the origin of the name Slider, but I’m sure I will hear about it at the reception, along with lots of other stories of Bob’s colourful life.

Bob also has an artistic side. Besides the famous bust, which adorns every copy of the Leisure Guide, Bob painted oil paintings. He even painted the Blue Boy, you know that famous painting, using his son Lance as a model. Bob even made doilies, as hard as that is to believe. He loved to work with his hands and carved and whittled as well. Bob loved music and he loved the bagpipes, he even tried to play them. I said tried.

Bob was a good stepfather to Anna’s children. He joined the Boy Scouts to teach Joe about the outdoors and that’s where I first met Bob. Our Dragon Lake group invited the Lakeview Group to camp at Little Big Hill, a small cabin just above the SPCA. There must have been at least 30 kids there and everyone laid out their sleeping bags on a small foamy due to the limited floor space. Bob showed up with the mattress out of his motorhome and plunked it down in the middle of the room. I guess after the accident Bob liked his creature comforts. We camped together often and Bob eventually joined our Dragon Lake group. We had one camp where we paddled down the Blackwater River and Bob offered to bring the steaks. We set the campfire and had the potatoes wrapped in foil in the coals, the pot of water on the side of the fire for the corn on the cob and a grill over the fire for the steaks. Bob brought out these huge, no, massive moose steaks that he had marinated for days. The steaks overflowed our dinner plates leaving no room for anything else, but they were delicious none the less, for dinner, for breakfast and even for lunch the next day.

It was at one of these camps that Bob asked about joining the Fire Department. He had applied in the past because he always wanted to be a fireman. He was concerned that he was getting too old, but he became one of our oldest recruits and one of our most dedicated firemen. He chaired the Muscular Dystrophy drive, organized the lot washing and brought the 50/50 draw at the auto races to the fire department and the firefighters association. He attended every call he could, often during the day being the “one standing by at Hall 2” I can only imagine the fireman he would have been if had more than his four years of service.

Bob loved to have fun and at one of our Halloween parties he dressed up as the Tin Man. Wrapped in tin foil with a tin funnel hat and with dryer vents for arms and for legs….. all three legs. Which he loved to show how the dryer vent could grow long….and then short…and then long again.

When Bob joined the Fire Department, he had a rat tail, a funny little braid of hair at the back of his bald head. Everyone else had a bald spot – Bob had a hair spot.

That wasn’t the only thing different about Bob. The first clue was if you called his cell phone and got his message “I don’t know where the hell my phone is. Leave a message.” In case you didn’t know, Bob had a nipple ring. He’d want you to know that. Just after he got it, he showed his daughter Stacey. When Bob’s mom came into the room she asked what they were doing. Nothin’, said Bob. Look at this said Stacey, and lifted her Dad’s shirt. Yeah, we can all picture that grin. Bob also had a Camo …. Thong, and … he’s wearing it right now. He’d want you to know that too.

Anna describes life with Bob as an adventure. Bob was Anna’s sandwich pimp on her Mobile Café which they ran together for 7 years. They did lots of things. They were a team. Bob wasn’t into running marathons, understandably, but he was still there on his bike delivering a cold drink for Anna as she ran. They rebuilt their house into a home, completely remodelling it, often without a clue of what to do, or how it would turn out, knowing it would be theirs when it was done. The end result is the beautiful home they have today.

Bob came to the realization, with a little help from his daughter Stacey, of how his drinking was affecting his life and others around him. Bob and Anna quit drinking and Bob found another circle of friends. He was very, very proud of his one year coin and his commitment to take better care of himself.

It’s often said that the only real legacy you leave behind is the lives you have touched while you are in this world. Bob touched a lot of lives.

Bob was every little boy’s hero – he was a fireman, a race car driver and a boy scout – everything a boy wants to be. Maybe that’s it. Bob lived the boy in all of us. Enjoying life to the fullest, Giving it all he could and being the man we will all remember – being Bob.