I have to admit, I’ve been sorrowful about Bob Fredricks since finding out about him a few years ago.
When I returned to Seattle in 2002 (we moved away in 1980), I immediately became rooted, got busy raising a family and life’s adventures. I missed a chance to reconnect with Bob before I realized he was in the area, eventually learning he took his own life. As a fellow father and husband, I can't imagine the suffering he was experiencing.
Bob was not only my good friend at BCS, but he was a friend to many. For anyone who knew him, he had an ability to immediately energize a room, and get people laughing. He often had a grin on his face, which either meant something devious was in the works or it just reflected the simple joys in life he was hoping to share with others.
As a teenager, Bob liked to push the limits against rules and authority. My guess then was that being the headmaster’s son was a pressure cooker. But as I got to know him, I learned that being raised with a new parent and changing family dynamics probably had more to do with it. Like many of us teens, Bob was trying to find his way.
I got to experience life with Bob outside of school several times at his family's summer cabin across the water in Kitsap Peninsula, on Skunk Bay just north of Hansville. Dewey, Pat, and Kristine were there, always gracious and warm. They fully loved the respite this place provided. The sandy shoreline was inviting in the summer, and Dewey had a small skiff anchored for crabbing or fishing. Life was slow in this place. Bob and I, of course, would wake up late in the morning, devour whatever breakfast had been sitting for hours in the kitchen. Once done completing minor chores Dewey had assigned us, we took to Bob’s shed for the rest of our day with loud rock music, lighting off firecrackers or whatever high school boys do. When asked to take on painting his shed, we probably took days too long for something that could have been completed in 6 hours. But it was summer, and we were determined to have fun.
In my two years with Bob at BCS, I learned well beyond his shenanigans that he deeply admired and respected many of his teachers, the staff members. For a guy who bucked authority, I enjoyed seeing him take well to the style of gentle leadership and those who led with humor to engage with him.
I also saw first-hand Bob’s big heart and fondness for certain people, often it being someone down on their luck or another with a disability. For many others his peers, if they took the time to get to know him beyond his tough guy shell, he reciprocated with genuineness and authenticity.
I’d love to be in contact with Bob’s sister Kristine, or with his widow if I ever get the chance to find them.
I’m saddened in losing Bob, but I believe the Lord welcomed him into Heaven while shedding a tear for his pain, and for the pain of his close loved ones. And yet, the Lord is also shining His love and a smile on Bob, because now there is no more pain - only warmth, only His goodness, God's peace and Shalom.
I remember Bob's grin, and like Brad mentioned, it could mean that he was up to something, or just smiling at something funny. Bob seemed like someone who made things happen, and it was fun to observe him in action during class and outside of class. I was sorry to hear of the losses that he experienced during his lifetime. I'm glad that he enjoyed some close friendships during his school years.
Brad Halverson
I have to admit, I’ve been sorrowful about Bob Fredricks since finding out about him a few years ago.
When I returned to Seattle in 2002 (we moved away in 1980), I immediately became rooted, got busy raising a family and life’s adventures. I missed a chance to reconnect with Bob before I realized he was in the area, eventually learning he took his own life. As a fellow father and husband, I can't imagine the suffering he was experiencing.
Bob was not only my good friend at BCS, but he was a friend to many. For anyone who knew him, he had an ability to immediately energize a room, and get people laughing. He often had a grin on his face, which either meant something devious was in the works or it just reflected the simple joys in life he was hoping to share with others.
As a teenager, Bob liked to push the limits against rules and authority. My guess then was that being the headmaster’s son was a pressure cooker. But as I got to know him, I learned that being raised with a new parent and changing family dynamics probably had more to do with it. Like many of us teens, Bob was trying to find his way.
I got to experience life with Bob outside of school several times at his family's summer cabin across the water in Kitsap Peninsula, on Skunk Bay just north of Hansville. Dewey, Pat, and Kristine were there, always gracious and warm. They fully loved the respite this place provided. The sandy shoreline was inviting in the summer, and Dewey had a small skiff anchored for crabbing or fishing. Life was slow in this place. Bob and I, of course, would wake up late in the morning, devour whatever breakfast had been sitting for hours in the kitchen. Once done completing minor chores Dewey had assigned us, we took to Bob’s shed for the rest of our day with loud rock music, lighting off firecrackers or whatever high school boys do. When asked to take on painting his shed, we probably took days too long for something that could have been completed in 6 hours. But it was summer, and we were determined to have fun.
In my two years with Bob at BCS, I learned well beyond his shenanigans that he deeply admired and respected many of his teachers, the staff members. For a guy who bucked authority, I enjoyed seeing him take well to the style of gentle leadership and those who led with humor to engage with him.
I also saw first-hand Bob’s big heart and fondness for certain people, often it being someone down on their luck or another with a disability. For many others his peers, if they took the time to get to know him beyond his tough guy shell, he reciprocated with genuineness and authenticity.
I’d love to be in contact with Bob’s sister Kristine, or with his widow if I ever get the chance to find them.
I’m saddened in losing Bob, but I believe the Lord welcomed him into Heaven while shedding a tear for his pain, and for the pain of his close loved ones. And yet, the Lord is also shining His love and a smile on Bob, because now there is no more pain - only warmth, only His goodness, God's peace and Shalom.
- Brad Halverson (BCHS 78-80, Class of 82)
Ann Glassey
I remember Bob's grin, and like Brad mentioned, it could mean that he was up to something, or just smiling at something funny. Bob seemed like someone who made things happen, and it was fun to observe him in action during class and outside of class. I was sorry to hear of the losses that he experienced during his lifetime. I'm glad that he enjoyed some close friendships during his school years.