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About Bob

It's been over a year, and I still think of him about once or twice a week, every time I pass Church Street. I wonder how he's doing, if he's well, if he's had his 1972 Pirsch Tiller ladder truck out on the road yet this Spring.

I wonder what he's added to his massive collection of fire department memorabilia — any new fire boxes, bells, photos, ledgers, record books? I'd love to spend an hour or two listening to that slow, methodical syncopated drawl tell about his latest acquisitions, and why he finds them fascinating. I truly believe every gem he has found is, to him, one more rescued and adopted child of unique and priceless value.

I wonder if his children and grandchildren know what a treasure they've got in him. I wonder if he's got any new projects in the works.

I wonder what kind soup is simmering on the stove in his comfortable kitchen — he was cooking up something special for Mrs. Graham when I was there last.

I wonder if I'll ever get my act together enough to make another date with him, so my own dad can come out and see his restored masterpiece, or the hand-built replica of his favorite Rochester Fire Station on the corner of Barton and Genesee — Engine 21. My dad would love that.

Who am I kidding? I would love it.

I think about Bob a lot. Where did I put his phone number...


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