Metro Tri-Star 15

In Memory of Joe Wozney (con’t)f illed in for Santa when he was ill - visited us in the form of Joseph Wozney. And like Chanukah Harry, . Chanukah Joe brought all the good little Jewish boys and girls Socks. (Yes. I am wearing them today.) Joe had so much fun in everything he did, his enthusiasm was infectious.Bobbie and Joe were part of our summer beach trips, too. (Even after Sharon and I graduated college, my parents and the Wozneys made the pilgrimage.) We would rent a house at the beach for the week and f ill it with good food, good times, and good memories. After one beach day f illed with riding the waves on an inf latable raft ( Joe was in the water with me almost the whole time). Joe offered to give me and my friend a ride back to the house in his truck - a light blue behemoth with a wheel base longer than most sedans. Joe suggested my friend and I ride in the bed of the truck sitting on our inf latable rafts. As Joe approached the f irst speed bump, he dutifully slowed and gently rolled the front wheels over thee bump. No sooner did the front wheels reach level pavement than the engine roared to life as Joe attempted to do zero to 60 in the span of about 12 feet. I bounced so high as the rear axel launched from the speed bump that “Pop!” went our rafts. And then I couldn’t stop laughing. Bobbie, upon hearing this

story, admonished, “Shame on you Joey.” But to this day I still crack up at the memory.Joe taught me many lessons that shaped who I am. He showed me that a witty retort was more effective than an angry reply. He was a Renaissance man - interested in everything and everyone and always glad to learn more. And he helped teach me patience. Once we went to a Caps game together. The game ended and I immediately jumped up to trek to the car and sit in exit traff ic, Joe looked at me like I had two heads. “Why f ight the masses when we can wait here for a few minutes and then cruise home traff ic free?” He was right -- we hung out for the minutes after the game and made it home with almost no traff ic.Joe always took an interest in my life and supported me as I found my path. He asked me questions about friends, girlfriends, my job, and life in general. He always listened with a thoughtful and caring ear. With Joe I knew I could always get honesty and without judgment: my questions would be greeted with wisdom and acceptance. I was reading through the comments to Joe’s obituary last night, and one comments insightful described Joe as his family’s “village.”’ I think that was true for many people he knew, including us!

My f inal memory of Joe was this past Thanksgiving, which we blessedly were able to spend together. Joe was always ready for a second helping at Thanksgiving. Of course, sometimes if he was slow on the seconds when my Dad would offer them. Joe dutifully replied “Ow, ow, ow” as he happily went back for more. My Dad and Joe’s relationship was incredible to see - both cared so much about each other and looked out for each other not because they had to, but simply because they wanted to. I cannot imagine anything more beautiful.Like my sister. I remember Joe’s toast. He gave one at our rehearsal dinner that I will never forget. He considered me a son, and my wife a daughter. We feel the same way. My wife and I have been married for two years. We are starting to make new couple friends as we build our life together. Every time a new couple comes into our life, I wonder whether they will be our Bobbie and Joe. But what I realize now is the answer is no - the Joe’s of the world are one of a kind. Joe had a zest for life that was unmatched. He enjoyed things so much that, as he would say. “They made his ears tingle.’’ And I think that’s the one thing we can all learn most from Joe - approach every day with his love of life.My ears tingle just thinking about you, Joe! - Jeremy

In Memory of Robert D. Robinson, USMCHis was a courageous battle and we should all be

as fortunate to enjoy life as much as he did. The great thing about Bob was that he always pushed

his limits within reason and was very aware of them. His solution to overcoming those limitations was to buy a bigger, badder, faster Corvette. Within a handful of events, he was competing for the top of the heap in the non-Benz AX classes. As a driver, he was very much in tune with what was necessary to squeak an extra tenth or two out of a run. This ability earned him “much improved” driver accolades from his instructors and fellow competitors alike.Outside the cockpit, Bob was gregarious and out-going. Always there to lend a hand and a kind word, he was a true joy to be around. I have never met anyone who was more exceedingly polite. He spoke plainly and made his meaning clear. He will be sorely missed. God Speed Bob… By Tom NewmanBob Robinson tearing up the track in his Corvette at Summit Point

In Memory