Bob grew up on Main Street across from the Courthouse, attended elementary school at St. Patrick's Catholic, then Anamosa Junior and Senior High Schools. He played Little League baseball (Loyet's Clothing Store team) and was on grade 7-12 school basketball teams. He grew to 6'3" and was the male lead in theatrical productions, had a great voice, was handsome, and had a wonderful sense of humor. He was a member of the 1975 Homecoming Court, escorting Pat Neville.
Bob had a talent for voice impersonations, many of his teachers were his subjects. He was also in local/college rock bands and played bass guitar. Bandmates in a high school garage band included Jerry Sleep, Jeff Conley, and Ted Weber. Bob's father (Robert Sr.) purchased a used Plymouth Belvedere for him in high school and they enjoyed working on it together. His mother (Mary Jean) always enjoyed Bob bringing friends over to the house, even if for late night snacks after events. The Thiede Family had a cabin on Lake Delhi and enjoyed boating and entertaining friends there. Bob was an accomplished water skier.
Bob went to University of Northern Iowa and received a degree in Business Managment. He settled in Atlanta, and started work with Rockwell in the Human Resources area. Bob developed kidney cancer in his late 20's and tried all types of experimental cancer treatment available at the time, courageously battling the disease. He died in an Atlanta hospital at only 30 years of age. Bob was involved with Big Brothers/Big Sisters and mentored a young man who gave an impactful testimonial at his funeral. Bob is buried next to his mother and his father at the Catholic Cemetary in Anamosa. His sister, Cheryl Kinnaird, lives in Marion.
Thanks Bill for putting this up. My fondest memories of Bob were up at the family cabin in Delhi. Learned to water ski in the summer of 66' there. Jammed with him a couple times also, he could play a little bass. My favorite recollection is attending his funeral, and hearing that boy get up and tell everyone what a great mentor he was - I believe he was well recognized by his work with Boys Club of America.
Bob's house was across the street from the court house and had a great window overlooking Main Street and the court house lawn. Dead center in that view was the phone booth. Bob and I discovered that the phone in the booth would take incoming calls. All we had to do was wait for someone to come walking down the sidewalk. We were in junior high at the time and we had some fun with a few people until our dream target came along, Terry Bahl, Mr. Bahl, high school teacher. Bob's sister Cheryl fed us information on Mr. Bahl and we proceeded to torment him to no end. He even hung up on us, walked away and came back to answer the phone again when we called back. We never let him know it was us. Fast forward to our sophmore year, he is now our teacher. Bob was walking down the hall one way and I was coming the other way, out into the hall steps Mr. Bahl. Bob and I made eye contact and it was all over. We started laughing and could not stop, he told us if we could not behave he would have to take us to the office. We turned our backs on each other and went on our way. We spent the rest of the day trying to avoid eye contact when our paths crossed but it just did not work, Before the day was over Mr. Fields grabbed me and told me he did not know what Bob and I had been up to but he was sure to find out. I told him that it was nothing serious and that some day I would let him in on it. Years later I told him the story and he said he would keep our secret. I was very sad to hear of Bob's death. He was a good friend and a kind spirit.
Rarely a day goes by that I don't think of Bob and miss him, usually when I play guitar. I met Bob at a AHS Friday night football game when I was 12 years old. He was soon my best friend, and we were hangin' out together all the time. I'm pretty sure there are several people who considered him their best friend. He had a very up-beat and out-going personality, an outrageously good sense of humor and a deep love for music. He could find the humor in even the worst of circumstances and he could keep me laughing for hours with his goofy impressions. We shared a dream of listening to, and playing great music. I'm honored to say that part of our dream was to play great music together, which we did to some extent before we parted ways and I moved half way across the country. By the end of our Sophomore year in college, my own alcohol and drug additions were putting a major strain on our friendship. But no matter how stupid I got, Bob never gave up on me and we remained good friends until he died. In the time since he died and even now, more than 25 years after his death, I have a reoccurring dream that he's still alive and somehow he didn't actually die and we are together playing guitars or listening to music or just hanging out talking. It's the kind of dream you really hate to wake up from. I guess I tried to bury my memories with him at his funeral, just forget about him and move on. Over the past few years I've realized that he's still alive in me by his influence on me, my sense of humor and love of music and style of guitar playing and probably many other things. So as I pass that on to my family and friends, part of it is from Bob. And I don't mind waking up from the reoccurring dream so much any more.
Bill Burhans
Bob grew up on Main Street across from the Courthouse, attended elementary school at St. Patrick's Catholic, then Anamosa Junior and Senior High Schools. He played Little League baseball (Loyet's Clothing Store team) and was on grade 7-12 school basketball teams. He grew to 6'3" and was the male lead in theatrical productions, had a great voice, was handsome, and had a wonderful sense of humor. He was a member of the 1975 Homecoming Court, escorting Pat Neville.
Bob had a talent for voice impersonations, many of his teachers were his subjects. He was also in local/college rock bands and played bass guitar. Bandmates in a high school garage band included Jerry Sleep, Jeff Conley, and Ted Weber. Bob's father (Robert Sr.) purchased a used Plymouth Belvedere for him in high school and they enjoyed working on it together. His mother (Mary Jean) always enjoyed Bob bringing friends over to the house, even if for late night snacks after events. The Thiede Family had a cabin on Lake Delhi and enjoyed boating and entertaining friends there. Bob was an accomplished water skier.
Bob went to University of Northern Iowa and received a degree in Business Managment. He settled in Atlanta, and started work with Rockwell in the Human Resources area. Bob developed kidney cancer in his late 20's and tried all types of experimental cancer treatment available at the time, courageously battling the disease. He died in an Atlanta hospital at only 30 years of age. Bob was involved with Big Brothers/Big Sisters and mentored a young man who gave an impactful testimonial at his funeral. Bob is buried next to his mother and his father at the Catholic Cemetary in Anamosa. His sister, Cheryl Kinnaird, lives in Marion.
Jeff Lawrence
Thanks Bill for putting this up. My fondest memories of Bob were up at the family cabin in Delhi. Learned to water ski in the summer of 66' there. Jammed with him a couple times also, he could play a little bass. My favorite recollection is attending his funeral, and hearing that boy get up and tell everyone what a great mentor he was - I believe he was well recognized by his work with Boys Club of America.
Joel Newhard
Bob's house was across the street from the court house and had a great window overlooking Main Street and the court house lawn. Dead center in that view was the phone booth. Bob and I discovered that the phone in the booth would take incoming calls. All we had to do was wait for someone to come walking down the sidewalk. We were in junior high at the time and we had some fun with a few people until our dream target came along, Terry Bahl, Mr. Bahl, high school teacher. Bob's sister Cheryl fed us information on Mr. Bahl and we proceeded to torment him to no end. He even hung up on us, walked away and came back to answer the phone again when we called back. We never let him know it was us. Fast forward to our sophmore year, he is now our teacher. Bob was walking down the hall one way and I was coming the other way, out into the hall steps Mr. Bahl. Bob and I made eye contact and it was all over. We started laughing and could not stop, he told us if we could not behave he would have to take us to the office. We turned our backs on each other and went on our way. We spent the rest of the day trying to avoid eye contact when our paths crossed but it just did not work, Before the day was over Mr. Fields grabbed me and told me he did not know what Bob and I had been up to but he was sure to find out. I told him that it was nothing serious and that some day I would let him in on it. Years later I told him the story and he said he would keep our secret. I was very sad to hear of Bob's death. He was a good friend and a kind spirit.
Jerry Sleep
Rarely a day goes by that I don't think of Bob and miss him, usually when I play guitar. I met Bob at a AHS Friday night football game when I was 12 years old. He was soon my best friend, and we were hangin' out together all the time. I'm pretty sure there are several people who considered him their best friend. He had a very up-beat and out-going personality, an outrageously good sense of humor and a deep love for music. He could find the humor in even the worst of circumstances and he could keep me laughing for hours with his goofy impressions. We shared a dream of listening to, and playing great music. I'm honored to say that part of our dream was to play great music together, which we did to some extent before we parted ways and I moved half way across the country. By the end of our Sophomore year in college, my own alcohol and drug additions were putting a major strain on our friendship. But no matter how stupid I got, Bob never gave up on me and we remained good friends until he died. In the time since he died and even now, more than 25 years after his death, I have a reoccurring dream that he's still alive and somehow he didn't actually die and we are together playing guitars or listening to music or just hanging out talking. It's the kind of dream you really hate to wake up from. I guess I tried to bury my memories with him at his funeral, just forget about him and move on. Over the past few years I've realized that he's still alive in me by his influence on me, my sense of humor and love of music and style of guitar playing and probably many other things. So as I pass that on to my family and friends, part of it is from Bob. And I don't mind waking up from the reoccurring dream so much any more.