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Saving the Bobbies

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So, when I was in college, I had the bestest Educational Psychology prof. I had heard good things, but come on. You never know. So, the class fit into my schedule and whammo, bammo, I was in.

I met Bob Malloch on the first day of class, where he asked us to call him Bob. His exact speech went something like this- “I’m Bob Malloch. You can call me Mr. Malloch, because I am a guy, and that would be appropriate. You can call me Dr. Malloch, because I have my PhD from Texas. But, what I really like to be called-is my handle- Bob. ”


um. Ok.


Bob was a kindred spirit from the word go. Monty Python loving, joke throwing and all around smart and awesome guy. One day in class, he went on this huge tirade (in the way only Bob could…which wasn’t really a tirade…but it was close enough) about how all the bad kids in examples are named Bobby. Why couldn’t they be named Jack, or something else?! So, we all promised him we’d “save the Bobbies of the world.”


He said a lot of things about family, trips with your kids and other things. It was quite the class. A lot of those things stick in my head. Like giving homework…but that’s another blog entry for another day.

He also told us that he had HAD cancer, and he was the only survivor of that particular kind of cancer. Great! He’s standing, he’s teaching! AWESOME!

Then, I never thought anything more of it.


Let’s fast forward to me moving into the area. I started knitting at Trumpet Hill yarn shop, and one of their instructors, Carolyn Malloch taught a class or two that I took. Last name sounded familiar, but I never got around to asking if she was related to Bob. Just kinda never thought to.


So, this week, the weekly email update from Trumpet Hill came through, and there was the date and time for a Celebration of Life for Carolyn’s husband, Bob. wait. Is this the same… no, can’t be. So, I dove to the paper and found the obituary. Yep. This is the same.

It’s yet another person in my life who helped shape my insane career. I’ve pretty much made a career out of “saving Bobbies.”

Think about it.

My first placement at “Ghetto Middle”

My love for the toughest kid in the room.

The Juvies who took care of me while I was pregnant with Isaac

They’re the Bobbies of the world.

And thanks to Bob, I remember that I need to try and save them every day.

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