Patricia Cruickshanks (TJHS 1970)

I was devastated to learn of Steve's Robertson's passing, from the RTD on Sunday, October 30, 2011.  I called his Mom, immediately, and then called Dorothea Robertson---my best friend and neighbor on Wilmington Avenue.  Steve was my High School Sweetheart, and all of my memories of JMHS were shared with him.  We met at a Key Club Christmas party my freshman year.  We were pinned my junior year at JMHS, on Thanksgiving Day,1968, while he was a freshman at VA. Tech.  He joined the Air Force after college graduation, and lived all over the United States.  But he always stayed in touch and made many, many trips back to visit me.  We shared such a strong friendship that began at JMHS and has lasted over forty six years. 

I can still see Steve walking down the halls at JMHS in that cadet corp union.  He was B Company Captain his senior year.  He had such a cute, engaging smile and was an outstanding student and member of the National Honor Society and The Key Club.  He always wanted to be an astronaunt and had such a promising future. 

Sadly, Steve struggled with depression from the time he was 20.  Because it went untreated, it manifested itself in Pick's Disease, of which he was diagnosed in 2008.  I knew there was something radically wrong with him back in the fall of 1970.  However, none of his three wives picked up on it.  Sadly, in the final stages, his 3rd wife NEVER picked up on it; and thankfully, his sister Helen, did, in May of 2008.  He was suffering from severe migrane headaches, because his brain cells were dying.  The doctors told him that there was nothing they could do for him, as it was too far gone.  Most of his brain cells had already died; he couldn't carry a conversation; could no longer smile; and eventually could no longer walk or recognize anyone.  He lived in a nursing home in VA. Beach from Feb. 2009 to Feb. 2011. In Feb. 2011, he was taken back to Arlington, Texas, by his third wife, where he died of Pick's, on October 17, 2011, after suffering a major stroke and double pneumonia. His bizarre behavior was completely out of control, since April of 2006, of which I can attest to. 

Steve, you will live on in my heart forever.  We all miss you and love you.  So glad you got to go to your 30th JMHS Reunion, even if you did talk to my older brother, John, all night.  Steve's passion was flying airplanes and we spent many a Saturday night, in high school, flying a Cherokee or Piper airplane out of Aero Industries at Byrd Airport.  He always knew that he was joining the Air Force, upon graduating from VA. Tech, and served as a Bomber Pilot over N.Korea, flying F-15's.  Steve always was a dare-devil and willing to take extreme risks.  Steve and Bubba Shifflett were quite a dangerous-duo back in the day at JMHS.  Steve finally cut the cord with Bubba in later years.  Bubba, Linda Wallace, Steve and I always double-dated together, throughout our JMHS days, per my Mom's hardfast ruling. My Mom never trusted you upper-classmen, because you could drive!  Linda and I were both long-time members of Ginter Park Baptist Church. 

Peggy Ramos had a date with Bubba Shifflett, when Steve and I went out on our first date, in April of 1967.  I still remember that pink oxford-cloth shirt and green dress slacks that Steve wore on our first date, as we went to play "Putt-Putt", off of W. Broad St. on Dickens Rd.  Wyatt Bowles also used to double-date with us alot. It was such fun riding in his grey Saab.  Wyatt had to sell his beloved Saab when he moved to Samoa.   

Steve lived at 4811 E Seminary Ave. growing up.  His parents built a new home in Bon Air, VA. after Steve graduated from JMHS and resided there until December of 2006, when they moved to Westminister-Canterbury on Westbrook Ave.  His parents still reside at Westminister-Canterbury.  I spent alot of time with Steve and his family on E. Seminary Ave. and Scarsborough Dr. in Bon Air.  Went to many VA. Tech football games with Steve and his parents, who were all devoted HOKIE fans.  It all seems like just yesterday.  The memories are all so very vivid. So very sad that he is gone.

I attended the Memorial Service on Saturday, November 5, 2011 at 2:00 p.m. at Christ Ascension Episcopal Church on W. Laburnum Ave., along with Ed Norfleet and Bobby Jones and his wife. This is the Church that Steve grew up in.  Committal was in Arlington National Cemetery on Steve's 61st birthday, December 5, 2011. God rest his soul.

Benjamin Poehland

I'm grateful to Patricia Cruickshanks for providing details of Steve Robertson's personal life of which I was unaware, because it explains a bizarre incident of his behavior that severed our friendship at the end of 1966.  Almost certainly, the seeds of the illness she described were already incubating even during his early JMHS days.  Steve and I were recruits in Company B of the Cadet Corps in our freshman year, and we were both in the same squad led by Loran Cecil (who, I recall, became company commander 2 years later).  In our sophomore year, both Steve and I were fortunate enough to get some rank.  In  those days, if you got any kind of chevron to wear in your 2nd year, you were doing well.  Steve was made squad leader (corporal) of Cecil's old squad, while I got one stripe (Pfc) and became assistant squad leader under Steve.  We made a good team and worked well together for most of the year.  Steve was an excellent student and just a superb cadet from whom I took a few pointers in leadership that served me well in later life.  I think we even dated some of the same girls.  A couple months before the end of the year, Steve suddenly turned on me and began badmouthing me, for no apparent reason.  I was totally stumped at what I might have done to offend him, but all attempts to get an explanation were rudely rebuffed.  Then he frightened me by telling me that a guy named David Kastenberg (spelling??) was coming to my house on a particular evening to beat me up.  When I asked who this fellow Kastenberg was, and why he wanted to beat me up, again Steve put me off.  When Kastenberg failed to appear on several occasions (keeping me in an increasing state of heightened suspense and fear), an evening finally arrived when this stranger made his appearance.  I met him at my front door with a BB rifle.  After a very unpleasant confrontation I drove the guy away, still without any explanation of who he was or why he came to my house to harm me.  My mother was extremely upset and contacted the police, who contacted Steve's parents.  A police detective arranged for a meeting at my house between Steve, my mother, and me.  The detective saw that no harm had been done and wisely decided to settle things privately after Steve apparently fessed-up to his parents about the matter.  In the presence of the detective at my house, Steve finally explained that he got ticked-off at me for some passing, rather unflattering comments I had made about a girl named Debbie Williams.  Unknown to me, Steve apparently had a thing for this girl, but to my knowledge he never dated her.  Myself, my mother, the detective, even Steve's parents, were flabbergasted that Steve had concocted this elaborate hoax upon someone with whom he had shared not only a close personal friendship but also our shared responsibility to the other 6 members of our squad in Company B.  Steve apologized and we shook hands, etc., but the many weeks of suspense and agony he had inflicted took a toll.  It turned out the guy who came to my door that night was some relative of Steve's (or so Steve claimed, a cousin or something), and I almost shot the guy.  The BB rifle was on loan from my uncle, and as part of the deal the police detective insisted I return the rifle within one week or risk being brought up on charges of threatening someone with a weapon (or some such legality).  In my state of fear I definitely would have shot the guy if he hadn't backed off, and admitted so to the detective.  So my uncle retrieved the rifle, and afterward Steve and I went our separate ways.  Those last few weeks of 1966, when Steve and I still had to command our squad together, were unbelievably weird and awkward.  To the point I found myself wondering, Who exactly was this guy?  That year Company B lost the Competitive Drill, and morale within the Company and especially my squad hit rock-bottom.  The weirdness between Steve and me definitely affected our squad, but whether our squad caused Company B to lose the Drill is one of those things no one will ever know.  The following year I quit the cadet corps, but not because of this incident.  Rather, it was because of troubles at home.  My mother went bankrupt, we had to move to a dreary place in Highland Park, and my junior year at JMHS was the darkest.  It probably worked out for the best.  Steve became captain of Company B in our senior year, and after the weirdness that had occurred during our sophomore year I don't think I could have remained under him in any capacity.  It was a sad episode that bothered me many years, but now I'm glad to know there was probably more to it than even Steve himself was aware of at the time.
 

Patricia Cruickshanks (TJHS 1970)

Ben, I am so sorry to learn of that confrontation that you and Steve had, during your Sophmore year.  He never mentioned anything about this to me.  Don't even know who Debbie Williams was.  Was she in your Class?  There was no David Kastenberg.  That boy's name was Ray Creekmore and he was a Freshman at Huguenot H.S. and was Steve's cousin.  He was a dare-devil---even more so than Steve.  Steve obviously put Ray up to doing this, to you, and I am so very sorry that he did this. He put his Mom through a lot.  He rolled my parents home with toilet paper, just before I got married.  I had to call the Police on him.  His Mom was working "down at the City Jail", so got him OUT of it.  That Bubba Shifflet helped him do that bad deed.  His Mom had the audacity to ask me WHY I refused to marry him.....Would YOU???  There were endless bad deeds and he was very controlling.  I got out of the 5-1/2 year relationship and never looked back.  He kept "showing up" at my door, wanting to talk and kept in touch, all through the years.  The last time I saw him, was in December of 2007 and I told him to "Never come back", knowing that that would be the LAST TIME I would ever see him--NOT knowing that he would be dead, less than four years later. He continually LIED to me, and that really concerned me; along  with saying very cutting-things. I got out and was glad to have made that conscious decision.    BTW, Ray Creekmore died in July of 1969,after contracting Spinal Meningitis from swimming in the James River, near the Huguenot Bridge.  He was to enter VA Tech, one year after Steve, in the Fall of 1969.  I ran into his former girlfriend, from Huguenot, Debbie Gish, that we used to double-date with.  We were at the same Picnic and I was with another member of your Class of 1968.. They both worked for the same Insurance Company, and Debbie Gish remembered Ray.  It was fun to reminiss.  Where have all of the years gone????