Very disturbing news that classmate Barry Robinson has been reported as "deceased." Ken Kelling, always a close friend of Barry's, and one who has attempted, through the years, to keep in touch with, received a returned letter marked "Deceased." The sender was not identified. Ken was attempting to organize a mini reunion of himself, Bob Martin, Barry and me. About the same time, Grace Ward Kassa also received a return mail marked "Deceased" that had been sent for the 45th reunion.
Ken was suspicious, suspecting this might be another one of Barry's jokes, perhaps designed by him to not be bothered by reunion attempts. concur with Ken's suspicions. Barry was a notorious jokester, specializing in humor to throw people off, a form of humor that I call "what the ding?" that my brother and I also used to confuse people and make them wonder what was going on.
Ken launched into an all-sources-available investigation to confirm Barry's death. He contacted Barry's hometown newspaper, the Houston Chronicle. There was no obituary printed. I checked with the Social Securities Administration with the help of my wife, Nancy, a retired nursing home administrator, who is familiar with death procedures. She informed Ken that newspapers only publish obits if the family so requests, and that the SSA has listed several Barry Robinson deaths this year. Ken attempted to reach Barry's younger brother, but was unable to reach him. In summary, Barry's death has not been confirmed, as far as we know.
So, Barry, if you're reading this, you pulled off the ultimate super-duper last laugh quite successfully. And if you are, in fact, deceased, and your name is properly placed in the little box that Grace keeps of those who have passed on, and we will not see at any future reunions, it still stands that those of us who knew you will always remember this: you had a rather unique, always present, sense of humor. I don't ever remember you being sad, mad, bewitched, bothered or bewildered. You had a knack of silently moving about, maybe tapping people on the shoulder, causing them to look to see who did it and you had already zipped away, leaving them confused. You were a gentleman practical joker--you wouldn't embarrass anyone, would make us all laugh if we were the victims, and while it was high school level humor, it was good high school level humor--clean and harmless. I smile as I sit here, writing and thinking about it.
I'll just have to accept that what I've always hoped won't be realized -- that I would once again, at least one more time, see an old friend that I ran countless 440s with in track; that I regularly attended Hillyard Booster Club meetings with; went to the Rose Bowl with; had ride with me in my old '50 Chevy, helping Ken, Marty, Coop and I push it to gas stations, since I would always be out of gas; tooling around the Panda with after going to drive-in movies or games. Yup, Barry, reckon I won't see ya.unless … do you suppose spirits ever gather for reunions?
Note: For more about Barry Robinson, see in the First Mate series, September 2004, Smilin' Barry Robinson.
by Wyatt Newman