Charles "Bob" Robert Stark

Bob, was born on May 24,1942, to Charles E. and MaryHelen Stark of Victoria, Texas, where he grew up and graduated high school. Soon after which, he spent time in Swansea, Massachusetts, with family, where he met Georgia Ann Joseph. While working as an orderly at a hospital in neighboring Fall River, he heard his favorite song, Sugar Shack (or possibly Boots Randolph’s, Yakety Sax; experts disagree.) coming from a darkened room. He walked in, flipped on the light where Georgia sat knitting and said, “Hey, do mind if I sit here and listen to this?” Although she thought he was crazy, he kept coming back after that, asked her out and eventually they married on February 8, 1964, and had three children (not all at the same time): Shaune, Timothy and Erin.

Dad’s life-long aversion to sitting still lead him to explore multiple careers including, a long-haul truck driver, a member of the Texas Department of Public Safety, and working in the Texas oil fields. Ultimately returning to long-haul trucking so that he would have “plenty of time to read.” Alongside his driving partner and best friend Ken, Bob saw every state but Hawaii and earned the CB handle Bookworm. He remained a truck driver until he retired, having received numerous safety commendations. Ultimately, he purchased his dream: a new Mack Truck tractor and operated it independently for over 5 years.

Proud of his Scottish heritage, he visited Scotland multiple times and participated in his Scottish clan’s events. He was so proud the day he received his kilt in the mail from Scotland that he insisted on putting it on that very minute and walking to Georgia’s workplace to show her, almost causing a young couple to crash into a parked car at the sight of a full-grown man walking down the street in a skirt. When Tim brought a Scottish colleague to one Christmas, dad, donned in his kilt performed no less than 6 shirt changes to proudly show off his collection of Scottish t-shirts while dad grilled him on the minutiae of Scottish history.

He was almost always in a good mood and seemed to have endless patience with our mother. Later in life we figured out that it wasn’t all patience…we were pretty sure sometimes he would just turn his hearing aids down, so he didn’t have to listen. If there was one thing you didn’t want him to say or notice, you could bet those would be the first words out of his mouth.

When visiting Tim in New York City, he would spontaneously and gregariously speak to diners in restaurants to ask them if their food was good or query them on whether they thought waiter making the table-side guacamole was “truly Mexican or from ‘somewhere else down there’”, New Yorkers were amused and horrified in equal measure.

He loved to meet and talk to new people, his mother-in-law always said Bob could talk a dog off a meat wagon, and so much so that he crashed Tim’s sailboat into a rock when he got distracted waving and trying to speak to people in an oncoming motorboat, pitching a fully clothed Tim over the bow and into Buzzard’s Bay.

He also loved reading, animals, Lebanese food, bickering with his mother-in-law and playing Santa on the phone when his grandkids were little. Later in life, he enjoyed time with his kids and grandkids, going out to eat and spending lots of time and his kids’ money in Half Priced Books. And he never missed an opportunity to brag about his children and wife.

He was predeceased by his mother Mary Helen, father Charlie, wife Georgia, eldest son Shaune and sister-in-law Marie Langworthy. He is survived by his son Timothy and his wife Tashala David, daughter Erin and her husband Chris Coker, daughter-in-law Kim and grandchildren Ian and Paige. And we will miss him, always, and wonder... where was that waiter really from?