Dear Cheryl, I'm so sorry to hear of your loss of Bob. Bob was a great man, brilliant attorney, dear friend and great mentor for me in my WC life. I mourned the schism between Jim and Bob as they had been such dear friends. 

I lost Jim in April 2022 from a rare terminal fibrocystic lung disease. It is difficult for me to believe the world has lost these two brilliant vibrant men. 

Barbara Hester
Barbhester72@icloud.com

I’m still thinking about you and loving you.  I will treasure all our memories and love you forever.  You were the love of my life and still are.  6years seems like a short time but it is an eternity to me.  So you are in my heart forever and ever, love you sooooooo much.

I still miss you after 6  years,  Shasta is still here and has a new buddy, Jaxon.  They have become like brother and sister.  Karen is now engaged to Ryan.  I'm looking forward to having him as a son-in-law.  We are all happy but miss you soooo much, All my love, Cheryl

Part III

Besides our shared love travel, we shared our love of the Oregon Ducks.  You being an alumni was the only reason I applied.  Going to your beloved school made me feel closer to you and in the ensuing years- we were buddies either going to games or watching them together always dressed in green & yellow.  Although, I preferred attending games together because your fondness for talking smack, or should I say “quack”, always seemed to get us in trouble and make new enemies. 

But that was just your wonderful wit and humor.  Your loyalty and insight.  Your emotional investment. Your love of knowledge and thought provoking commentary.  Your patience and ability to see the future.  Your reverence and respect for people and institutions. Your commitment to your family.  And most importantly, your love for this life and everyone and everything in your life.

You were the man in Mom’s & my life.  And you shall remain the man in our lives in death.  

You once raised a toast to 18 of my closest friends in a pub basement in Covent Garden London, England on your 30th Wedding Anniversary and said “When Karen left for her trip, she was a girl.  When she came back she was a woman. Thank you for raising my daughter.”
Today Dad, I thank you.


Part II

I remember you teaching me an endless amount of games- Hearts, Poker, Clue Master Detective and even Bridge- the most useless skill of my generation.

I remember the harrowing tale of almost sawing off your finger building my playhouse one summer.
I remember our annual Thanksgiving trips up and down the ugliest part of I-5 from LA to San Francisco.  Listening to Vivaldi, or the Association or German tapes.  I still remember “Wo ist die Bank? Es ist neben der post”- which translates as Where is the bank? It’s next to the post office.

When it came time for me to drive, I remember you teaching me to drive stick shift because your midlife crisis happened to coincide with me getting my learners permit. So a red ‘94 mustang seemed appropriate for both of us.  It only took me 10 tries to engage the clutch.

I remember our drive to drop me off at college in Oregon in the same red mustang – you letting me drive for half the trip.  We didn’t make record time then, but we sure did overnight in the mini-cooper. 12 hours and 10 minutes from LA to Denver.  I will never forget that sunrise as we gassed up for the last leg in Eagle.  We were giddy with excitement because we were about 8 hours early from when people expected us to cruise into Grammy’s driveway. 

Your opinion mattered to me Dad.  Because I respected and loved you so much and I wanted you to be proud of me.

I’ll never forget sitting across from you the night before I moved to Europe at an upscale Chinese restaurant in Pasadena. You opened up about that mystery year in the 70s you spent in Germany…a little too much information, but so honest.  A year of exploration for you at 29 yrs old, and you were so proud I was doing something similar at 22.  Next, you proceeded to give me lengthy dating advice, region by European region, based on your experience with guys.  Which is probably why, when I finally decided to return home 2 years later, I was single and had a healthy global following of homosexual males.



PART I

Dear Dad,

I don’t remember the day we met- but I’m told you were at Huntington Hospital in Pasadena on August 17, 1979. Being your unconventional self,  I’m told that you cradled me by carrying me around like a football for the next 6 weeks.  I guess your instinct to always “protect the ball” was yet another sports lesson you handily applied to your life.  

I don’t remember my first laugh in the backyard of our house on Grandview. I was 4 months old and Sarah got the zoomies.  According to you, it was the first thing ever in my life that I found funny.

Nor can I remember crawling after you, following you into your bedroom as soon as you got home from work. 

I can’t recall the hours you spent in the middle of the night, walking me around the pool to soothe me when I couldn’t sleep.  I wonder what you said to me.  I wonder what you were thinking holding this tiny person that wouldn’t stop crying.

I wish I could remember, riding around in your yellow truck, my car seat facing backwards and the rear window open so I could throw the ball to the obsessive white lab in the truck bed.  And in that same yellow truck, when you got pulled over for speeding and I said “Ticky? Daddy get ticky?” as you begrudgingly accepted a speeding ticket from a smirking officer.

But I do remember…..

All of our pool time- jumping off your shoulders and you teaching me to dive and other tricks.  I also remember you terrorizing me with that stupid game where floated on your back with your mouth full of water and you would slowly backstroke to me feet first until you cornered me and squirted me with water.

I remember Saturday was our day.  The zoo, the carwash, amusement parks, In-N-Out, it was our time together. And our Saturday nights where you, the dog and I sat up in my room for hours talking about life and you called it “Bull Sessions”.  How you ever could talk to a 6 year old for 3 hours is beyond me.



The 70's and early 80's are still some of our fondest memories and of course Bob and Cheryl are in the center of them.  Our late night tournaments of Simon (the game) and Bob's incredible memory.  The Hearts games that almost led to violence.  

The world lost a master of humor, dry wit, and sarcasm.   Bob always had an opinion and usually the final word on the topic.  

Good times, friends, and memories.  Bob you will be missed by many! 

Tom and Shari Steinwinter

Bob, your football friends have always enjoyed our competitive rivalries, smack talk, and humor. Personally, I regret not properly thanking you for trading me Jerry Rice and Brett Favre.
I remember when you arranged for an online Playboy magazine article honoring our four-decade-long fantasy football league with the same group of die-hard football fans. It probably was only a coincidence that one month after our photos were posted online that Playboy banned nudity.
Bob, we all miss you.

Hard to imagine how our fantasy league, together for 40 years will be the same without our brother Bob.  His biting wit, sense of humor and general craziness which made our lives a little more fun will be sorely missed.  God Bless you Bob!

Dear Bob, the love of my life,
   We had so many great memories together and it's so hard to believe you are gone.  
   You are the most loving person I have ever known and the best father.  You gave Karen great memories of travels, dogs and beating me in any board game we ever played and  Hearts, which we always played in hotel rooms as we traveled across the West.   How did the two of you figure out what was in my hand? 
      You always made life fun and especially planned Christmas with lots of surprises for Karen and I.  Your g'national football teams have responded with such positive thoughts and they will miss your hysterical newsletters.   I think that is your legacy-your humor and intelligence as well as your fun-loving spirit.
       I will miss your cooking Sunday breakfasts, our lunches at Tellers and numerous trips to the grocery store for sudden cravings for dinner.  I will miss playing Led Zeppelin and the Moody Blues on Sunday mornings.
       I think you would love the service Karen and I have planned for you with a string quartet and music that you loved.
       Even Shasta will be there arriving in style in the limo with her new Oregon Duck dog collar.
      
      I love you and everything you ever did for me, Karen and our dogs.  You are a beautiful person.

      Love you forever, Cheryl



I was so lucky to be able to visit  last summer and have lunch with you and Bob in your new home city. Enjoyed the wine tasting beforehand, lively conversation, and being able to meet Shasta! It will always be a treasured memory for me.  Love you!

OBITUARIO

Robert Richard Dickinson

30 diciembre, 1943 – 7 junio, 2018

Olinger Funeral, Cremation & Cemetery - Crown Hill

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