I’m in Sweden at the moment, up late from the jet lag, remembering an old friend. Bob Borgstede was in almost every class with me from kindergarten up. He turned out to be a fine guitarist, of the jazz variety, and I would say we sort of experienced a musical renaissance together. Bob passed away suddenly, not long ago. His wife, Sarah, asked his friends to post their memories of Bob to his website. Below is my submission. I post it here in his honor and because I think you might relate.

First of all let me say how sorry I am about all this and how bittersweet it’s been for me to read through the program for Bob’s funeral and to see the pictures at the website, especially those of Bobby (Bob’s son). He’s a beautiful kid. It was also good to read Sarah’s letter and I’d like her to know that my family and I will be praying for her and for Bobby

Is it a coincidence that I had already been thinking about my fondest memory of Bob a week or so before his death? I was mowing my lawn and thinking how my life has changed profoundly over the course of my twenties and how I’m just now starting to appreciate the gravity of it all. I’m up to my ears in responsibilities these days, and along with these responsibilities, new joys are springing up around me. Deeper joys and more profound ones. The whole deal can be pretty overwhelming at times. So, as I mowed, I thought back to my junior year in high school when Bob and I, along with our friends, David Hedrick and Alicia DiZerega (whose name I have certainly misspelled here) were in an advanced biology class and were given the assignment of making a movie about pumpkins (but not really about pumpkins). This assignment was famous at Fort Zumwalt South and people really went all-out for it. So Bob and I and the rest of the group spent our Saturdays putting together this ridiculous film which I won’t try to describe. Suffice it to say it is a cinematic masterpiece. It is also the centerpiece of my fond high school memories. At the time we were making our movie, the Beatles had just released the song, “Free As A Bird” along with the Beatles Anthology TV series. Bob and I loved it, so the final sequence of our movie is a music video of it. For the duration of the song (and it’s a long one), David, Alicia, Bob, and I run through the city park with our arms outstretched as if we are flying in no particular formation, completely free. There we are in my memory, running along the bike trails, weaving back and forth, stopping for a moment to swing, jumping out of our swings, running again, finally collapsing in the soft grass. With no idea what’s coming. This has become for me a picture of my youth. It was a time when my friends meant the world to me. Together we were fairly aimless and totally unfettered. Free. It was beautiful and it makes me a little sad to think of it even now, though I wouldn’t go back if I could. I hope Bob remembers it just as I do.

With love and my sincerest condolences, Ben Shive