One of Bob’s great gifts, one he shared so freely, was his natural enthusiasm in listening, appreciating, and responding to each (and seemingly every) one of us as individuals.  It was a gift for comradeship and collegial intimacy; he was a mentor through his friendships, not in place of them.  He was so genuinely interested in our experiences and perspectives, and responded with generous, thoughtful helpings of his vast reservoir of wisdom.  I know that others feel as I did that Bob saw and savored the uniqueness of our connections with him, as much as he did the collective fellowship of the Willamette community.  It seemed that, each time Bob and I met, we ultimately had to pry ourselves apart from a rich conversation, always going over time as we uncovered fresh common interests and stumbled into new thought-provoking exchanges.  I am thinking of our annual ride up to Portland for the President’s Admissions Reception event.  After Bob swept a pile of papers and books off the passenger’s seat so I could get in, we’d start talking before he pulled out of the parking spot and, only breaking for the event itself, continue without a pause until we made it back to the Sparks lot after 10 p.m.  We’d range across topics from the recent history of our discipline, to students we knew in common, to recent trends in liberal education, to various controversies in global and U.S. politics, to the pleasures of Patrick O’Brian novels, to the odd festivals of the Czech towns in Texas, and on... 

Bob was always concerned to know my thoughts about our academic community, and would respond with his own wise counsel.  As others have pointed out, though, his favorite topic was our students.  When, in our discussions, a student came to mind whose experience illustrated some point about pedagogy, curriculum, the campus, etc., Bob’s enthusiasm would pick up a notch, and his eyes would glow, and he inevitably began telling the student’s whole life story with affection or satisfaction, ranging far beyond the original point to be illustrated, until we eventually came back around to the point we had begun with.  I am also thinking of the many afternoon or evening discussion events through the Kaneko Commons – we colleagues have all done them, together and singly.  Sometimes it was just Bob, myself, and two or three students, sharing a great conversation.  He seemed never happier than in the fellowship of such conversations.  I was happy to share them with him, too, and I miss him terribly.

Greg Felker

Professor of Politics