I froze when I read Bobby's name in the church bulletin, telling myself it must have been some other "Robert Wilson." That was until I finally found the obituary in the Post-Gazette and realized that it was the same guy I grew up with on the streets of Bloomfield.
The rush of memories is far too great to recount here. Although we lost touch as we grew older, we still did occasionally run into each other at watering spots on Liberty Avenue as the years went by. Most recently, I saw Bobby a few years ago at the Pleasure Bar as I waited to pick up my youngest daughter from Saint Maria Goretti School. Little could I have known it would be the last time these two kids from Howley Street would ever see each other.
I can't believe he's gone, but Bobby will live on in many warm remembrances of our childhood and teenage years, whether playing football on Fisk or b-ball at Woolslair. Rest in peace, my friend.
Ted Rectenwald
