Friday was a sad day, we found out that our friend Bob had passed away from complications from Colon Cancer. Bob wasn't a religious man, but an avid sportsman, husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather and friend. Bob was the sort of guy who was friends with everyone he met. He always had a story to tell about something, a book to share.
Bob was the sort of guy who never quit working. In his early 80's and still digging ditches and hauling rock. I used to joke with him that he would die with a shovel in his hand under someones house.
We met Bob and his family in 1989 when we moved to SW Portland. They lived across the street and always had neighbors over for drinks and a dip in the pool. It wasn't long before Bob found out I hunted and fished and he told me many a story of hunting in Eastern Oregon. Soon he invited my to join him. I enjoyed many a season in both Eastern and Western Oregon hunting deer and antelope. Eventually as hunting partners we went our separate ways, but we still saw them all the time.
When our kids were born it was as if they were their own grand children. We frequently had dinner at their home well after we left the neighborhood in 2000. While not as often as we had being neighbors, we still managed to trade dinners.
Bob and his family extended invitations to us every year to join them at their family Christmas Dinner party that they hosted. Only family and a few very close friends, we are honored to be included in that short list.
A little over a month ago when I was finishing mowing the lawn, Bob stopped by for a visit. He was sitting in his wife's car outside the house as I walked the mower from around back. Walked up to see what was up and he asked for some help out of the car. That was very uncharacteristic for Bob. I helped him out and he unbuttoned his short to show me a lengthy scar with fresh staples. Four days earlier he had his first surgery and wasn't even supposed to be out of bed. In his normal goofy way, he'd waited till his wife had left to go shopping and snuck out of the house - to come visit us. It was a warm afternoon so the grown ups all had a beer on the back deck and the kids got to see his scar. They talked about the books he brought to all of them that came from the Portland Danish Library that had closed (Bob was a book hound - read all the time). Of course he got caught as his cell phone soon rang - wife wondering where he was. Bob said something odd that afternoon before leaving that I can't remember word for word, but something to the affect he was out to visit everyone he knew just to make sure there was no ill feelings about anything between him and his friends - I wish I had paid more attention. I'd obviously told him he was nuts to think something was ill between us. Turns out to be the last conversation we had.
That is how Bob would have wanted to be remembered; dressed well, relaxing with friends in the sun, telling another tale from a day gone by, doing chores around hunting camp (well don't let him cook or do the dishes), dancing with the ladies, and enjoying a toast with friends
Skål 
Bob
Goodbye to our friend Egon (Bob) Larsen
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