Bob Klessig

I couple of weeks ago, I called Bob to check in on him and see how he was feeling. He didn’t sound good and I made it a point with myself and my pals to call more often. Bob’s phone rang off the hook that day and he called me back to express his cheeky annoyance.

“Did you tell all those folks I was dying or something?” he asked with a giggle.

And then last week, I got a voicemail from Bob. In it, he stated the gig was up and that he had anywhere from two to six months to live. “I love you son,” he said just before hanging up. It was one of the hardest voicemails I’ve ever listened to and out of pure selfishness, I dreaded calling him back. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know handle myself. I didn’t know what was appropriate and what was not. But I also wanted Bob to know how much he meant to me and how much I respected all of the things he had accomplished in his 80 years.

The next morning, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I hit his name in my contacts. “Ryan, my man! How are you doing? How’s your neck? Dr. Dan get you straightened out?” I took Bob’s out, filled him in on my latest neck surgery and kept the small talk going as long as I could. Eventually, the idle chatter came to a deadend and I had no place else to go.

“Bob,” I said. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well what the hell is there to say?” Bob rhetorically asked. “I’ve had 80 great years and it was a pretty good run. I wouldn’t change a damned thing. There’s nothing for you to say and nothing for me to be down about.”

“I know Bob, but I’m just having a hard time finding the words to express how much I appreciate you and all you’ve done and…”

Bob cut me off right there. He was jovial. Easy going. Just being Bob really… “I want two things! First, I don’t want any of that sad crap from you. And second, I want a header on the H.A.M.B.. Something with my Chevy in it and maybe even the Corvette.”

It was classic “Bob K” really. He knew I was having a hard time with the situation and went out of his way to build me up and ease the anxiety I was so obviously holding. A perfect act of selflessness while on his death bed… And in a way only Bob could do it.

So, to honor the man we’ve got a couple of things to get done. The header is the easy part – that’s already up and running. The other isn’t quite as easy given the moment, but one I’m gonna damn sure do my best to complete. Bob didn’t want any kind of sad remembrance on the H.A.M.B.. Instead, he wanted an old school H.A.M.B. party of sorts… And that’s exactly what we are going to give him.

So, as a reply to this thread please post your images and stories of Bob as you knew him. I want to see shots of Bob in that famous old H.A.M.B. hat. I want hear the story of how you first ran into Bob and his amazing wife Maggie. I want nothing but glory for the old fart and none of your sadness. Keep that shit in like Bob wanted… and let out all of the happiness Bob gave you. It’s what he asked for and given all the things he brought to both you and me, he deserves to get exactly what he wanted.

Go man go.