Bobby Lee Sims

Bobby was a man of few loves, and he was faithful to every one of them. He loved football. He loved tomcats, provided they were well fed—above all Mookie, who, as though by some private arrangement between them, slipped away the very same month. And he loved, without the least apology, his own company. Bobby did not go visiting. Invitations were declined, coaxing was ignored, and the wider world was left to manage without him. There was one standing exception: the road to his brother Derrel’s house. It was the only road Bobby travelled willingly, and when his niece and her children came over from Scotland, he travelled it gladly and regularly.

This past 13 months, he spent it among exactly the people he would have chosen: his older brother and best friend, Derrel Wayne Sims; his sister-in-law, Doris Ruth Broscoff Sims; his niece, Hadassah RosaLinda Sarunac Broscova; and the two children he fiercely adored and openly “borrowed”, Ronen Aurelius Yehosef Sarunac Broscova-Cederlind and Hélèna Morashah Fleurette Broscova.

Bobby never had children of his own, and he made up for it with relish. He hauled Ronen and Hélèna off to the aquarium at Kemah and to the Texas Renaissance Festival, again and again, and he never once missed a Sunday family dinner. This year he told us, plainly, that he was “happier than he had ever been”. We believed him. We could see it.

Bobby was a proud veteran of the United States Navy, and his life turned on a single act of grace. Early in his service, his commanding officer recommended him for discipline, or worse—the kind of mark that can end a sailor’s career before it begins. Then came a fateful meeting aboard his ship with an Admiral. Struck by the young man’s razor-sharp salute, his flawless military bearing and his quiet dignity, the Admiral overruled the recommendation on the spot and gave Bobby one last chance.

Bobby seized it with both hands. His original documents 'REPORT OF ENLISTED PERFORMANCE EVALUATION read that by August 1977 his officers were recording an outstanding improvement in every aspect of his service. He was put in charge of work details on the night crew and got fine results from his men. He also bought himself several new uniforms, a detail his officers thought worth recording twice. On 30 November 1977, his Report of Enlisted Performance Evaluation called him “without a doubt the most improved seaman in the Deck Division”, a sailor whose conduct was “above reproach” and a model for the entire division. Then it described the Bobby we all knew: a man with “the rare quality of being able to motivate others in a soft-spoken manner”, for whom the men in his charge “always seem to put a little extra into their work to please him”. Beneath the typed words, an officer added a line of his own in ink: “His potential is unlimited.” and he signed his name under it.

The grace he had been shown, he passed on. The chaplain of Destroyer Squadron Thirty-Three cited him for organising a highly successful Bible-study group, and his officers credited him personally with turning several shipmates into “productive, well-adjusted seamen”. They predicted he would make an outstanding petty officer, and he did: in January 1978 he was advanced to Boatswain’s Mate Third Class. He completed four years of active service, nearly two of them at sea or overseas. When he left active duty in September 1979, the Navy recorded his character of service in a single word: honourable.

He wore that word with immense pride for the rest of his life. Every year he and Derrel—brothers, best friends and fellow veterans—took their places side by side at the annual veterans’ honorary dinner in Humble, Texas.

Bobby did not leave that honour at the dockside. While working to earn his living, and often bone-weary, he cared for his disabled mother almost single-handedly until her death. For a man who prized his solitude above almost everything, it meant giving it up, day after day. Of all the service of his life, it may have been the most honourable.

Preceded in death by his father JD Sims and mother, Myrtle Marie Sims, he is survived by his siblings—Derrel Wayne Sims, Gloria Jean Fotia, Linda Sue Sims and Michael Eugene Sims—and by a loving mountain of nieces and nephews.

Bobby’s circle was small, but his loyalty was more precious than gold, and no one inside it ever had cause to doubt him. It was never truly a family party until Bobby walked through the door. Then the teasing began, the water fights broke out, and the whole house filled with laughter. The Navy noticed it first, calling him “a tremendous asset to divisional morale” in 1977. His family could have told them so.

If you knew him, weep with us, for you know how he brightened every room he consented to enter. If you knew him not, weep for yourselves, for you are the poorer for never having known his love and his steadfast loyalty.

The world is darker now. He was our Joy.

Fair winds and following seas, Bobby.

Lovingly written and researched by his niece, Hadassah, Lady Sarunac Broscova

A Committal Service will be held at Houston National Cemetery, 10410 Veterans Memorial Dr, Houston, TX 77038, on November 3, 2026, from 11:15 am to 11:45 am.