By John Hayes

Nicknames

Bob put his enormous vocabulary to use in surprising ways, often as euphemisms. Mixed grill referred to southern Vermont’s all-too-frequent mixture of snow, sleet, and freezing rain, which he hated. Free-flowing and sanitary referred ironically to the state of one’s digestive tract, particularly in regard to the aftermath of tropical biology field trips. Itzcuintlis (eats-queent’-lees), shortened version of the Mexican hairless dog name Xoloitzcuintli (which we corrupted to ess-quint’-las), referred to students’ parents. 

He also liberally handed out nicknames, most of them less than flattering, except for those Bob held in deep respect, such as John MacArthur, who became Pa Pa (with the accent on the second Pa). Maybe others will share theirs on this website. Mine evolved in about 1980 on a spring break Florida ornithology field trip.

Just prior to spring break, I traveled to Ohio along with my then-wife, Joanne, and our daughter, Stefanie, to attend a greenhouse conference. The plan was to catch up with the Marlboro field trip already under way at Stephen Foster State Park in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia. Unfortunately, along the way we had one of those Saab stories (brakes) and were delayed a day. Bob and the students were nowhere to be found when we arrived at the park. But I knew in those pre-cell phone days that he would leave us a note.

When we didn’t find a note in the campground, we went to the ranger station, but the on-duty ranger couldn’t find a note for John Hayes. So, we went back to the campground to look again. Nothing. Back to the ranger station. Again, no note for John Hayes. After ruminating for a while about the lack of a note, Joanne went back in and said, “Are there any notes at all back there?” The ranger looked around and said, well, just this one, for “Meatloaf, Mrs. Loaf, and Little Burger.” Hah!

We met them the next day at the southern tip of Lake Okeechobee, and I became Loafy from then on.