Alan,

I was out of town for the weekend, and upon my arrival back home I learned of the passing of Bob. I am so deeply saddened by this news. I can’t help but think that all who met him and knew him feel very honored to have done so. I remember the exact day I first met Bob in the summer of 1996 (July 12th) when I traveled to Corning to attempt to do some research on my favorite piece of acid cut back piece of Carder Steuben. I had been in correspondence with Bobby Rockwell prior to my trip, and he invited me to stop into the Rockwell museum to show him my piece, and see if we could do some investigation into it. Bobby assisted me with some interesting information about my piece, and I was pleased that I had made the five hour drive from Pittsburgh to Corning. Upon my leaving the museum after taking in all of the Carder glassware, I asked Bobby if there was anywhere in the town where I could see Steuben for purchasing? He suggested that I stop in at the shop on Market St. I found the shop and walked in to be greeted by a friendly elderly gentleman. I knew of Bob Rockwell, and was so thrilled to have just met Bobby Rockwell, that I felt that my trip had been complete. I browsed through the shop and talked with the gentleman, and proceeded to tell him of my excitement of meeting Bobby, and having had some of his time so that he could assist me with the information that I had come to Corning to obtain. Bob looked at me and said “Do you know who I am?” I politely said “no.” He said “I’m Bobby’s father, Bob Rockwell.”

Well, I suppose you know what is to follow. As is the story that is not unique to me, I spent the next two hours in the shop talking and listening to Bob regale me with stories of Frederick Carder, and glass, and of times past. I was so fascinated that I hated to leave. Before I did go, he pulled out a small book about Carder glass, and signed it “To my good friend Mark, cordially Bob Rockwell.” I was hooked, and as I departed Corning, I knew that I would return again, because I felt that I had to come back and talk more with this man. I did return some four times after that and then again the past three years that I have been a member of the club. I was fortunate enough in all of those visits to have had the honor and privilege to be in his midst.

Like others that have a similar story, a couple of years ago, as I arrived at the symposium in September, and as always my first stop is at the shop. Bob was there sitting in the chair, and I was thrilled that my timing was so good as to find him there. He and Beth and I talked, and I was so enjoying myself. Bob put two closed fists in front of me , and told me to pick one. I had no idea why, but did pick one. Well, I picked wrong, and he said “try again.” Obviously, I picked correctly the second chance given, and in my hand he placed a 1884 silver dollar. I told him “that was a great trick.” I was in the process of handing that silver dollar back to him when Beth informed me that “he wants you to have it. He gives those to people he likes.” I appreciated that gesture so much. I can’t tell you how many times over the past few years that I have looked at that silver dollar and the meaning behind it. I repaid that gesture to him last year when I held out my fists, and told him to pick one. He picked correctly on his first attempt, and I was honored to present to him a commemorative coin that I obtained off of Air Force One. I think that he was as tickled to receive that coin, and the sentiment expressed as I was receiving the silver dollar.

The last time that I saw Bob was at the dinner auction. Due to his frailty, I was somewhat reluctant to ask if he was willing to try and sign the crystal pyramid that I had brought to the auction. I asked Beth what she thought. She said she thought that he would be happy to sign the glass. I asked him, and of course he was. I was very happy when Dick Bright purchased the piece, and that it has a home in Corning. After the auction, I made it my point to go and talk with Bob before he left, and I looked him in the eye, as he did me, and I told him “it’s always a pleasure.” For anyone who has ever had the opportunity to have met and talked with Bob Rockwell, it really was “ALWAYS A PLEASURE.”

Mark A. Chamovitz