Robert Splan Obituary

I was just thinking about you the other day Bob. Hard to believe you've been gone 15 years!? Will see you on the other side not too far down the road old friend! All my best to the family still with us here. Miss you! Mike Jones

Rita, I have been thinking of you and the girls. How are You doing? My garlic smells wonderful and I can't wait to use it. Please keep in touch.

Love Sherry

Dear Rita,



I was so deeply saddened when I recently learned of Bob's passing while at the Olympic Club last week. As you may know, the Club posts a picture of all members who have recently passed away.



I first met Bob in 2002, while I was serving on the Board of Directors of the Olympic Club. He was the chairman of the Investment & Endowment Committee. Thereafter we spoke frequently and I encouraged him to apply for the Board of Directors. In 2004 we spoke several times about this but due to his retirement and plans to spend time in Washington he felt he could not commit to such a responsibily. I was hopeful with time he would change his mind as he would have made an excellent Board member.



I was fortunate to visit your property on the Russian River. It was such a wonderful setting. I'm sure you spent many wonderful times there.



We will all miss Bob at the Olympic Club, He was very generous with his time and very gracious to me.



Warmest regards,



Stu Kinder

Our sincere condolences

It is with great sorrow that I realize that Bob is gone from my life.We went to School together,were fraternity brothers,worked for sea-land together,United states lines,invested together and shared the love of bike rides,wine,snow skiing and great grins every time we were together.

I will remember all those times with the greatest of affection and will some day not think of Bobs and his love for life- But it will be a some time in the future before that happens.Tom and Carol Morehouse

For over fifty five years Bob Splan has been my friend and more. Bob, Larry Mitchiner, Mike Sloan and I have been pretty much inseperable as a team for something more than forty years. We were the Four Muscateers. Many stories and reflections will be replayed between Mike, Larry and me when we get together. Most of them will make us laugh, a few will make us grimace and a few will bring tears to our eyes. You've heard all of the superlatives to descirbe Bob and most of them are true but to me this was a plain and simple friend and brother. Some of what we did together will be retold and some will forever remain silent (I hope). There is a hole in my life without him being here, without his smile, his little whistle, his blustering opposing side to the discussion and so much more.

I miss you, Bob. You still remain in my daily prayers. I love you, Bob. You have been so very special in my life. But then this is what so many will say. My prayers are also with Rita, Andrea, Heather, Celeste, Rick and all of extended family. What a guy!

James (Jim) Kempthorne

Dear Heather and Family-



Our thoughts and prayers are with you during this sad time. With much love, Scott & Gloria

Dearest Rita,



Ticia and I were enthralled meeting you and Bob during our stay at the Banff Springs Hotel in August of '98. It has been a pleasure subsequently enjoying your company at Twin Oaks (especially at your wedding), San Francisco, and of course with your visits with us in Texas. Bob will certainly be greatly missed!



Love, Ticia and Marty

Celeste Marie,

My heart goes out to you and your sisters at this time. I have no words or clever poems just know I am thinking of you, especially you.

Thoughts of Bob Splan in the Methow

By Deb Prentice, June 7, 2005



Hello. My name is Deb Prentice and this is my husband Arnie. We’re from the Methow Valley, a tiny, magical place in north central Washington that was fast becoming Bob’s newest love. I thought some of you would like to know something about the place that attracted Bob these last few years, and something about Bob when he was in this place.

The Methow Valley was really Rita’s idea. They discovered it one day when they took a wrong turn on their way to Nelson, B.C. They were driving over the North Cascades Highway, dropping down, down, down, from Washington Pass and BOOM, it hit them. I can visualize the spot and know the sensation since it still happens to me every time I round that turn and drop down to the open Valley below. It takes your breath away. It certainly did that to Rita but maybe not so much to Bob, at first.

Bob and Rita bought some property along the river outside the little town, the very little town, of Twisp. Twisp, by the way, means “yellow jacket” in the local Native American language and they are your constant companions. The yellow jackets, not the Native Americans. We thought they should have settled up in the “high rent district” of Mazama at the head of the Valley but, no, Rita (and Bob too) liked Twisp. She said it reminded her a little of home but was much more peaceful. Maybe Mazama was a little too peaceful. They only have a country store there. And then there was also the town of Winthrop, in between Mazama and Twisp but, alas, they could film a “wild-west” movie there with their western storefronts, and boardwalks and Pioneer Days and the like. No, Twisp was the place, for Rita anyway, and Bob, maybe.

So Rita and Bob began to hang out at their place in Twisp. They got to know some of the locals, their real estate agent (who was also a caterer – good for Bob and Rita who loved to entertain), the local Inn proprietors (whose daughter is a blue grass recording star) and Wanda, their caretaker, an especially important person when one lives WAY out in the middle of the woods where the trees are dense and the snow is deep. She’s also a cross-country ski instructor by the way. People have to wear many hats to live in Twisp.

Rita also found the local artist community and began supporting the Confluence Gallery in Twisp and taking lessons with Mary Powell, a wonderful impressionist artist living in Winthrop, and doing the first Thursday art walk. Yes, even the tiny Methow Valley has one of those….

So Rita had found her place, but what about Bob?

Well, Bob needed a little more time to discover the virtues of Twisp and the Methow but discover he did. The first thing he discovered was that the Valley attracted folks with similar interests to him. There was my husband Arnie, also an investment advisor, who liked to hike and golf, and fish. And then there was Sam Sanford, a local contractor, whose sharp mind, wit and great sense of humor kept Bob on his toes.

Interestingly, all three of them were married to younger women… hmmm…

Yes, it was fun to watch Bob discover the Methow and to watch him succumb to its magic. There was the time we first visited them at their new place by the river and Bob was all a twitter about all these beautiful trees and “that was Forest Service land over there so you could just hike forever.” And then he took us down to “his” river to watch it tumble and rumble over the rocks. And the deer were everywhere right out the front door so he would fence his garden. And then there were the hunters who were after the deer and who were “confused” about whether they were on Forest Service land or Bob and Rita’s land. So Bob would start coming to the Valley during hunting season to remind them whose land they were on.

And oh, the hiking. Bob and Rita were always hiking. On their land, on Forest Service land, on any body’s land… who knew up there… there were no fences… for them hiking was always an adventure. Especially the time he and Rita ventured way up the Twisp River drainage where Rita unfortunately fell and broke her angle. Bob basically carried her out and then called Arnie to cancel our dinner date. “Rita tripped and hurt her leg so I guess we can’t make it to dinner and oh, by the way, is there a hospital around here anywhere?” Ah yes, hiking, like everything else with Bob, was an adventure.

Most recently, Bob discovered fly-fishing, he did have that beautiful stretch of river after all. He was so taken with it that he went right out and bought a fly rod and honed his skills in his backyard catching the trees, the bushes and anything else that happened in his casting path.

Ah yes, the Methow was working it’s magic on Bob. But less you think the Valley is all about the outdoors or that Bob had gone all “granola” on us, we must tell you what else the Methow is about. It is about art and lectures, Ph.D.’s and rocket scientists, and, thankfully, it is about wine. Although the Methow cannot claim glorious vineyards like Bob and Rita’s home here, it can claim a few excellent wine cellars. Sun Mountain’s, the Fiddlehead’s, Arnie’s, Sam’s and Bob’s, which thankfully for us, was full of Kistler wine. So Bob (and now Rita too), learned the Methow was a party place with evenings filled with good friends, good food, good wine and laughter, tons and tons of laughter…

Yes, the Methow had captured Bob. So much so that he actually hid away there for a week one February without telling any of us. He just wanted to enjoy the peace and solitude of the place…. The Methow had worked it’s magic…

Sadly, in Bob’s passing, not only have we lost someone special and loved, but a little magical Valley in Washington State has lost someone too. Someone who cherished it, respected it, and loved it, if only for a very short time. The Methow will always claim Bob as one of its own and Arnie and I will always remember him standing on a rock in the sunlit river with the precious water of life swirling around him, with a sheer look of delight and rapture upon his face…

I cannot express how much I miss my uncle Bob. I have uploaded a picture of happier times (Last Christmas).

Dear Rita & Splan Family & Friends-



A P.S. to my/our goodbyes & thank you notes; this was written by Bob, Erin, & Rick's Mother Thelma Splan,(& Grandma to Stefan, Mark, Allison, & Bob's girls, Andrea, Heather, & Celeste) her final needle point before she too passed away, in 1983, just like Bob, of a heart attack; thought it appropriate, as I used it at my parents' & relatives' funerals; it is still exists.



THE CLOCK OF LIFE



The clock of life is wound but once, & no man has the power, to tell just when the hands will stop. At late or early hour, now is the time you own. Live, love, toil with a will; Place no faith in tomorrow, for the clock may then be still.



Rest in peace old friends, Jim, Thelma, Carol & Bob Splan & thanks again for everything.



Love- Mike & Louise Jones

Dear Bob, Rita, Andrea, Heather, Celeste, Rick, Allison, Carol's family, & all the family members & friends I missed:



Bob, a final few words........



Funny...when I spoke yesterday to all of you, I forgot say goodbye Bob-I'm sorry-or maybe I just couldn't bring myself to do that-besides being my adopted "older brother" idol, (& Rick, you're my younger brother, & don't forget it!) you were such the savvy businessman, the traveler, & such a great guy to turn to, if I really had a question about an investment or life in general-(you're right, I am too old to raise kids!) or anything else.



Bob, Thanks for selling me your old silver Porsche-I think of you every time I get into it & go for a drive-& thanks for cherrying it out for me-& it is in the garage, just like you told me to take care of it; don't worry about the oil leak-it's minor, & I'll take care of it down the road. Thanks for bringing it down to San Diego Rick-& thanks for keeping an eye on Rick, Bob & Rita! At least you only broke down once, & that was minor!



Bob, Thanks for the bottles of Kistler Chardonnay too-the price was more than right on both, & were they good, but then, I expected that from you! Thanks for all your advice-& the great times as kids you gave to Rick & me-as the tears run down my face, I smile at remembering the bet we had on UCLA vs. Ohio state (Ohio won), in the Rose Bowl,& the 5 bucks you won off me-I learned NOT to bet with you, but to learn from you. It was great skiing with you & Carol, Christmas Holidays at Jim & Thelma's, with Rick & you guys when you were in town. Going skiing was just as much fun, & you were such a damn hotdog. Talk about trying to keep up! I wasn't THAT bad of a skier! I do wish you were here so I could call you-just to say hi, tell you how the Porsche is running, & see how your grapes are growing, your garden, your golf game, how's Rita, work, where you've been lately, & just to hear your voice. You always returned my calls too-



Thanks Bob, for being my hero too.



I love you & miss you, & thanks for your help with my family passing on too. I needed that.



Goodbye for now Bob, & happy trails.



Dear Rita;

Thank you for having such a grand send-off for Bob, fitting for such a grand man, & my pseudo-older brother, I never had, but idolized so much. I always thought, if I went to San Jose State too, I could be as successful in life as Bob, have a family, travel,have investments & homes in various places. Little did I know, Bob Splan was a real tough act to follow! Although I only made it to the ranch a few times, it was so nice to be welcomed, & you Rita, made the difference- in Bob, like I said, slowing him down, for his own good.



I wish you, & the family the best, & do call anytime, or visit if you're in town.



Dear Andrea, Heather, Celeste- it was so great to see you all, Celeste for the 1st time- (& my, how you've grown, like your Dad's roses!)& as I said, please stay in touch, & let Louise & me know if you're coming down San Diego way. The Splan Clan is always welcome!



I'm sure my fiance Louise (my girlfriend from high school 30+ years ago!) would love to get a chance to meet you all, & hear some stories!



Take care of yourselves, & my best to all of the family. Thanks for being my friends too.



Love as always,



Mike (& Louise) Jones "Jonesy"





Take

I remember as a kid, me asking you: ”What do you want me to call you. Bob, Uncle, Mister Splan, Robert, Uncle Bob – What?”

You have to know, it wasn’t easy for me.

On the one hand you were my Uncle, plain and simple. The Man who was my mother’s brother, who brought the families together every Christmas, who regarded the family as the most precious of goods, insisting on us all getting together so that we can ski and all see each other again. Sharing love, and ties. The leader of the clan, the family man, the card player who had a never ending game of gin going with my father for over 30 years, not deciding on a winner yet, fighting your natural instinct to win, so that there will always be another hand to be dealt.

You were always there, even when not physically present. A great Uncle, the family man.

But on the other hand you were much more. When people would speak about you the always did it with a sense of amazement and awe. You were a man with a natural power and grandeur, not needing to demand it, but naturally receiving it. Respected by everyone and causing many to be jealous. For you had it all, a great life, a strong family, success, great kids, two wonderful wives with happy and great marriages, friends for life and the luck of the Irish.

You were a big man, more than just an Uncle, a brother, a father, a husband, a mentor, a friend.

So I was confused, what shall I call you. What could I call a man like that. And I remember you answering me with your wide grin, jokingly but with a sense of earnest so typical of you:

“Just call me sir!” - Joking but serious.

Like when I was considering moving to LA and your advice was “yes it’s hard, but it’s necessary. Just consider it as a boot camp”

Or when we were all in the chalet, cozy, hiding from the snowstorm outside, and you saying “let’s go skiing”.

I remember you jogging in Zurich and being gone for many hours to call up my mom saying “Erin! Where am I, I think I’m lost!” But of course you didn’t want us to pick you up, you wanted to jog back home. Like everything you did, you did it to win, to the maximum extent, never to stay put, never to stagnate.

And of course we all went skiing, reluctantly.

Of course I moved to LA, nurturing on your good advice. And of course we all came here, to demonstrate our Respect and Love and thankfulness.

You were more than an Uncle. And not just that sir.

So as a kid I replied, “I’ll call you Uncle Sir” And you loved that - the name was fitting.



Thank you Uncle Sir, for living the way you did.

Thank you Uncle Sir, for your friendship and love.

Thank-you Robert Howard Splan for being our father, friend, brother and mentor.

To put it in the words of our ancestors:

Ta failte roath agus Slan liat agus goraigh mahagoth.

Goodbye my Uncle Sir.

Well be seeing you in heaven.

We are so sorry to lose our special, kind and sincere friend.We will truly miss sharing " travel " stories and fun times with he and Rita. Our thoughts and prayers are with Rita and Bobs' family.

It's not hard to imagine how such a lanky little boy with a huge grin, a very teasing nature, and a giggle that echoed "catch me if you can" challenging even Aunt Thelma as she ran after him with a switch taken, literally, from a real family tree, grew up to be so accomplished.



At the mature age of 9, you were a "quick study" and a "problem solver". When your sister and I were told by your Mom we were not to leave the table until we had eaten ALL of our egg - she liked whites and I yolks, you buzzed by and giggled and said "just switch plates"! Older and wiser you were, but what I didn't realize at the time was your day was going a "little slow" too and you needed us to be released so you would have someone to tease! We were living in the moment while you were visualizing the day.



As a boy, you loved adventure. I remember the time we hiked to the Indian burial grounds on Conneaut Creek, Ohio near my home, with our mothers' blessings, to look for arrowheads. We all got there with some other neighborhood boys and we found the sandy area in the hills. We excavated it! Digging and looking. I can't remember what we found. All I can remember is your telling us we were now "cursed" for walking on and digging up sacared burial grounds - that the Indian spirits would come after us! Then you snatched our Dick Tracy dolls who made the trip with us and took off running with your long legs. We were scared, but we did find our way back and there you were waiting for us at the end of the trail. You calmed us down, gave us our dolls and convinced us not to tattle!



That same summer - you were 10 or 11 years old, you found this lonesome tree in the tall grasses on Grandma Dewey's back 40 and somehow you convinced Aunt Thelma, my Mom and Grandma to let us sleep out all night under that tree. After supper we embarked with blankets and snacks. You cleared the area and set up camp before darkness fell. We picked the long grass,sucked the nectar, and then just let it hang from our mouths like cowboys! Things were going well and then it got DARK. The fireflies came out, the peepers peeped, the moon came up and Bob's bedtime stories began. Stories of snakes and bugs and things that go "bump" in the night!!!



It's hard to imagine this full of life little boy would grow up to be the caretaker of this family tree, but he did. He made the time to stop by if he was near; he phoned occassionaly and was so easy to talk to; he cared enough to try and make certain the branches on that tree stayed rooted and connected. He exemplified what family should be and it saddens me so to lose him so young.



I think we could all pick a leaf from Bob's tree no matter what age when he first crossed out path and I think if we did so, we would see a finer human being we would be.



My prayers to you all.

Bob's cousin, Pam

My dear "Ruth". I see by the photo in the Chronicle that Bob enjoyed his recent gondola ride on the Grand Canal. Life is too short to miss Italy, her Italian reds...even her Sicilian reds that grow at a latitude about where our ATO fraternity house in San Jose sat.



I passed on a photo to his ATO brothers, and even fellow shipping executive Terry Klaus who informed me that he won last weekend's Master Mariners Regatta in Brigadoon.



The photo I distributed was taken at a recent Stanford tailgate, flanked by his college brothers, and will appear in the June SJS Rat Line.



Just 11 days earlier, Bob's 62-year old fraternity brother, Terry Bell (SF's Color Graphics), died suddenly of lung cancer, after lunch in San Luis Obispo. Terry was from Santa Monica. Two good men, much too soon.



Rita, I glad Bob finally got a chance to enjoy his Forestville ranch. Bob Foy told us that he was part of Bob's SF Wine group tastings.

I'll uncork a bottle of San Luis Obispo County's best in Bob's memory.

Dear Rita,

Liz and I would like to dedicate this poem, written in venetian dialect and translated by us, to you and your family.

Another Time by Giovanni Organo

Behind this time,

which is taking big bites of our life,

there is another time,

and we don't know what is waiting for us.

There, waiting, like golden leaves,

ever clean, shiny, well preserved,

are the persons that are no longer here.

One day the curtain will fall and we will see them again.

We'll climb over this embankment that hides the horizon between yesterday and tomorrow.

And I'll find my friends gone away, my girlfriends with their young smiles. The dogs will run to lick the hand that caresses them. They will stain me with their dirty paws; dirty with soil and with scent of old gardens and the smell of the dust of centuries.

No one will ask anything. What we have given will be just enough to balance what we have received.

We'll remain like this, without words, as though enchanted by a new suit.

Elizabeth and Claudio Tarchi

Strength to "Rouge" from all of the Pels family. We know our beloved Anthony will welcome Bob into heaven and they will continue to be with us always.

Love,

Wen, Helen, Diena, Tony and all of our Pels Family.

My you rest in peace Bob, Youwillsurly be missed

Bob, may all your gardens be weed free, your wine glass perpetually full, and your ski runs covered with 6 inches of powder.....

We love you Bob & Rita.

Smooth sailing Bob - and strength to Rita and his children. Bob was the real deal, and he leaves a big void. Italy won't be the same without him.