Bob Law

The news brings me up short, in a way that few things have in a long time. Our good friend Bob Law died yesterday morning of a massive heart attack.

Bob spent his whole life in and around Chicago. He worked for the city's Water Department. I've met a lot of people in my life, but I've never met anyone who was more generous and fun-loving. He's the brother of my wife's best friend Sue and for anyone who attended Beloit College in the mid- to late 1980s, he was probably the most welcome visitor you could find. About once a month or so, Bob would make the drive up I-90 and visit Sue. If you were Sue's friend, you were Bob's friend. It was impossible to buy a round of drinks when Bob was in town, because he bought them all. He would visit with you, talk about what was important in your life, tell great jokes and share the hard-got wisdom he had learned on the mean streets of Chicago. Bob had a million stories, but he was always willing to listen to anyone else's tale, no matter what it was.

After Mrs. D graduated from Beloit and moved to Chicago, we used to see Bob around from time to time. He was the same as always -- a gentle giant of a guy, always up for whatever you wanted to do, whether it was a night out or simply a moment of his time to talk. He came to our wedding, met the members of my family and my friends from back home and made such a great impression that by the time the wedding was coming to an end, people who had just met him that day were chanting "Bob, Bob, Bob" in his honor when he happened to walk across the dance floor. He was just that kind of guy.

Mrs. D and I left Chicago in 1992 and we didn't see Bob so much after that. He got married and he and his wife had 3 kids, which meant that he had to settle down a bit. Life tends to demand such things of you and while no one likes to admit it, even people you care about tend to drift out of your life as you keep moving. That happened with Bob. I thought about Bob every once in a while and we would often wonder how he was doing. More than a few times, I thought about trying to get ahold of him, but I never did. That happens, too, even in a world where Facebook and other social networking sites let you collect people like postage stamps.

I wish I had a tidy moral to this post, but I don't. It doesn't work that way. Still, it brings you up short. Bob was in his mid-40s, like me. Nothing is promised in this life. But while I pray for Bob's family, I take solace in knowing that greater promises await, so long as I keep the faith.