Phillip "Bob" Robert Simpich

January 25, 1926 - August 15, 2020

Signed and framed, Bob Simpich’s ninety-four years might well be expressed by

his stunning five-panel oil painting hanging in a hospital waiting room. Displayed

is a Colorado mountain stream—transcendent, yet so lovingly detailed you’re

hearing water. It’s injured, yet refined by time; searching, deliberate, yet

extravagant. Lifegiving.

This achievement, dedicated in 2008 for display at the St. Francis Medical

Center, Colorado Springs, was thumbnailed by young “Phil Bob” as he delighted in

the impressions of light and color, form and texture dancing across a Missouri farm

near Rocheport. Born in Maryville, MO, the three-year-old and his family found

refuge here during the Great Depression.

A one-room schoolhouse began the sketching process, an opportunity to draw

“as much as you want—hotdog! As long as the assignment’s done.” Elementary

and secondary schooling in Columbia, MO (where the Simpiches settled in the

mid-‘30s) brought encouragement and valuable exercises in spontaneity—even as

parents, Phil and Susie, and sister, Tancy, stood by puzzled, yet beaming with pride

at Bob’s artistry splashed across numerous mediums and styles.

The discipline, focus, and concentration this mountain stream masterwork

would require were certainly honed at the University of Missouri where he

received his MA. But it was his sixty-two year marriage to an artist his equal,

Janice Nickson, that stretched the canvas and steadied the easel. A job teaching art

in the District Eleven schools moved the newlyweds from Missouri to Colorado

Springs in ‘52. Here his energy and rapport with students caught the eye of district

leaders. Positions as district art director and supervisor soon followed. All the

while, a growing family—four beloved children: Ragan, Gretchen, David, and

Brenda Sue, and an endless list of hobbies (camping, fishing, miniature trains,

sailboats, photography, calligraphy, pottery, archery) all laid drop cloths and adjusted the

lighting; set things in place to really get going... For at the end of the day, it was all

about the painting. His efforts were prolific: oil, some acrylic, portfolios busting

with watercolors (Bob and Jan’s first dates were watercolor excursions, afternoons

by a Colorado stream). Finished framed works were sold and given to his beloved

family and friends.

Oh, but there was this distraction—this unstoppable little “character doll”

enterprise thing—fueled by Jan and HER unquenchable artistry. It tended to take a

lot of Bob’s time, and best energy, and innovation. How he loved and supported

his wife. This “sideline” eventually became a business employing over one

hundred people, busting the seams of three commercial properties, and carrying

Bob and Jan’s artwork to homes around the world. “But Janny, there’s this

mountain stream waiting! The paint’s squeezed out… The lighting’s good!”

The exquisite work of art did get painted. And it seemed the raw talent, the

years of prep, the skill, opportunities, even the distractions had gotten everything

ready. But Bob, mysteriously, through decades and by design, was in truth being

chiseled, smoothed, and refined by the very Source of this mountain stream. The

Life Giver, this relentless Hound of Heaven, was forging, demanding this artist’s

very soul… and threatening to grab the brush and place His own signature on the

canvas. Bob—with bowed knee, bruised pride, with an ever-growing passion for

this greater Artist’s instruction manual; for this Sovereign Who commands the roar

of seas, as well as the rush of mountain streams—relinquished his brush, over and

over. And from this act, LIGHT was—and IS—given to Bob’s art. (It’s even in

the faces and spirit of all those character dolls, go figure.)

And an example of a cherished man “in Christ” was rendered and lived out over

nine decades. Thirst-quenching refreshment was and is offered to all who are

anxiously alert, weary, and seeking—in the waiting room—to observe and receive

Living Water. Thank you, Mr. Simpich, for displaying this work for us. And, just

as you truly wanted, we can’t take our eyes off the signature.

A memorial service, including live stream, will be held at First Presbyterian

Church, Thursday, September 3rd at 10:30am. www.firstprescos.org