By Tim Tibbitts '80

I take some solace from remembering the last time I saw Bob in person. Not too many years ago, he took a solo spring break trip; flew to Phoenix, rented a snazzy motorcycle, and went on a road trip around Arizona. Toward the end of his trip, he spent a few days visiting in the tiny, remote town where I lived. I was amused, trying to reconcile the motorcycle fanatic with the man I first knew decades before. He was semi-retired, and still delving into new things with great passion. He was very happy and relaxed. We went for a few jaunts into the surrounding desert (not on the motorcycle) and spent a lot of time talking, back at the house. The morning he headed back to Phoenix, he rolled out the driveway in his silver motorcycle “moon suit,” waved, and flashed that big grin. 30 years after being his student, I was still—in fact more—impressed with his unique character. He wasn’t just a gifted teacher and brilliant biologist. He was also articulate, learned, and had great integrity, curiosity, humor, discipline, mischief, loyalty, and compassion. He improved the world with his time here.