Our Moderator Robert Fowkes passed away last Friday, Sept 30, 2011 (1 Viewer)

[WaveCrest]

Never met the man myself (but the name does ring a bell), but it is still a shock when you read of the passing of someone who was involved with the HTF. My prayers are with his familiy at this sad time.

 

[Dave Moritz]

Very sad to hear, his contributions to this forum and the man will be missed!

 

[Steve...O]

I just read of this sad news today...my prayers to his family and loved ones. Like many others, I did not know RAF except through reading his contributions on HTF. In an era where forums come and go HTF stands out as one of the absoulute best because people like RAF kept it friendly, engaging, and informative.

RIP.

 

[Craig Beam]

Here's hoping Heaven's got HD... if it doesn't, I imagine Robert will make it happen. Rest in peace.

 

[Adam Gregorich]

Here is something RAFs daughter Liz wrote that was read at the service:

Written by his daughter, Liz, (a.k.a. Zeezola), on behalf of his family.

Our Dad, Our Grandpa, Our Collector
In looking for words to describe our Dad, so many come to mind, but the one that kept resurfacing was “Collector.” Dad was the ultimate collector of a multitude of interests and things. It was a lifelong obsession and one that he did not take lightly. Whatever the topic, Dad would jump in, research, and quickly become an expert and aficionado extraordinaire. The physical items that accompanied his collections were always categorized, organized, and carefully documented. Over these past few weeks we have discovered that while many of his collections were readily apparent, he also collected in areas of which we were not aware.
In his early years Dad began his collection of musical talent. We remember stories of his playing the piano as a kindergartener at an assembly and demonstrating his innate musical ability. When his parents were asked by his teacher how long he had taken piano lessons, she was surprised to find that there was not a piano at home. Dad’s time spent in the coatroom in a sort of 40’s “timeout” gave him the chance to teach himself how to play at an early age. Whether it was playing for family and friends, picking out a song by ear on piano, composing his own ditties for his loved ones, playing his trumpet, or listening to his rejuvenated collection of LP’s, he was the consummate musician.

Dad collected knowledge. He was a lifelong learner and continually dove headfirst into whatever he did. His ability to learn, master, and become a teacher in all areas amazed us as it amazed his colleagues and friends alike. He would share his newfound knowledge, often at length and in exacting detail. There was nothing that Dad could not do and the tiniest inspiration would put him into his Energizer Bunny mode. This was particularly evident when Dad was in the process of completing his dissertation for his Doctor of Education. He enjoyed letting us know that, like me, a recent graduate, and while Dave was finishing up at RPI, he was in school, too. His sense of mischief was apparent even in this endeavor when his advisor apologetically asked him to resubmit his work with slightly different sized margins. The advisor, thinking dad would have to spend hours and hours retyping, felt bad about the request. Dad never let on that, as he had completed his work on a computer (he would say, “Duhhhh! It IS about computers in education) it was merely a few keystrokes to reformat the margins and print another copy. He took his time, and in a few weeks turned in the work figuring that the perception that it had been more difficult than it had been might earn him some points in the acceptance phase of his dissertation. One of my proudest moments was when Dad was reading my Masters’ thesis when he commented, “Wow, you write like me.” Yup, at 112 pages, generously more than the 50 required by the program, and to the chagrin of my advisor/editor, I guess I did. Where did I get that habit from? Thanks Dad!

Dad collected humor. He was the constant jokester from the start. He could not pass up an opportunity to make a clever quip or joke when presented with the chance. One of our favorite stories is from Dad’s school years. When one of his teachers wondered if the “newfangled” clock, which made noises on the hour might produce toast, Dad took the opportunity to break into the classroom and hang toast from the clock one morning before school. We are sure his classmates appreciated the effort even if his teacher may not have been amused. Whether producing carefully dubbed awards ceremonies for YHS staff on cassette tape, providing a joke of the day to colleagues, or the newer version of his “Fellow Jokester” emails, complete with a laughing, smiley emoticon, Dad was the ultimate comedian.

Dad collected statistics in all things sports, as well as bragging rights when his teams won. As a perennial “Commissioner” to various pools, dad recorded, logged, and reported on countless competitions. From his early years as a YHS statistician with his handwritten, hand calculated results to today’s version of online, cross-referenced tracking, Dad could keep up with and ahead of the best of them. He never passed up a chance to brag when his team or pool picks won, and delighted in reminding his Philadelphia son-in-law exactly how many more times the Yankees had won the big series compared to the Phillies.

Dad collected technology. From his early years at Montana State University where we helped him count circuits, blinks on a binary board, and later entered commands in BASIC and Dos on a Radio Shack TSR-80, Dad was ahead of the computer curve. Our childhood was spent stepping over Heathkit TV and stereo parts, checking out the latest and greatest in home video, and learning the ins-and-outs of the newest computers. We thought everyone’s house was like ours and would wonder, “What do you mean you don’t have a [insert latest technology here] at your house?” We, our dad’s friends, and later our kids, were graced with some pretty awesome techno-hand-me-downs and occasional spontaneous gifts of the newest technology Dad did not think we could live without.

Dad collected movies, video games, movies, media equipment, movies… movies… movies, and did we say, MOVIES?? For anyone that has visited his home theater, it is hard not to be awestruck by the sheer volume of his media collection, carefully catalogued, organized, and meticulously recorded. Dad delighted in collecting whatever new platform arrived; Beta, VHS, laser disc, DVD, HD DVD, and finally, Blu-Ray. He collected, and collected. He was generous in sharing, provided we followed his careful instructions on the proper removal and replacement of said titles. We often asked why he had so many movies and asked if he really WATCHED all those movies? He would simply and politely refer us to his online article, “Why I Own So Many Movies.” His media and theater collection was such a passion that he was a member and respected moderator and contributor on the Home Theater Forum, he tested and reviewed new equipment, travelled to frequent media and home theater conferences, and was seen as the guru of all things theater.

Dad collected packages from online retailers. Boy, did he collect these! While we are sure that he viewed them as an important source to supply his many collections, he was an avid contributor to consumerism, Amazon being his favorite vehicle. While visiting dad several weeks back the UPS guy inquired if I, his daughter, was the one “who ordered all this stuff?” When I shared that, no, it was my dad his response was, “Outta control!” How many packages do you have to order, Dad, for a UPS guy to say, “Outta control?”

Dad collected sentiments. This was probably his least known collection, even to us. In the days since he has been gone, we’ve discovered in his quiet way just how sentimental dad was. From the file drawers full of his parents’ keepsakes and his own dad’s work, to the tiny 1949 newspaper clipping announcing him as the Junior bubble gum contest winner, the ticket stubs from college basketball games, reserved library and selective service cards, black and white photos of siblings, a Nigerian pen pal, his dad and our mom, and countless other treasures, Dad’s mementos held an important part of his history, and ours.

Dad collected courage. We first saw this during our mom’s illness. While initially we were not sure how he might cope with her devastating diagnosis, Dad attacked it with his usual energy. He organized appointments, medicines, procedures, and coordinated in his meticulous way all that needed to be done to care for mom. He kept family and friends in the loop with his detailed email group. And, when, less than 9 years later, he was faced with similarly devastating news he attacked that as well. Determined to beat the odds, he went into overdrive organizing and planning what he needed, creating color-coded “medicines taken” lists to keep his doctors up to speed, and continuing to keep a positive, take-no-prisoners attitude. He refused to let it get the best of him and continued to socialize, work, and travel until the end.

Dad collected Grandkids. We imagine he would consider this his greatest collection and he delighted in finding just the right way to connect with each of his five grandkids. Although they have different personalities, Dad made the effort to find common ground with each, and bragged about them equally. Whether driving to watch school plays, concerts, sporting events, birthday parties, or spending time playing the latest video game, dad was a big kid himself who delighted in hangin’ with the grandkids. He meticulously recorded these occasions on video and film and provided us with a copy of each videotaped event and a collection of family photos annually. Dad always made a special spot in his home for the grandkids, and especially in his prized theater, by providing each grandchild with a tiny director’s chair, red for girls and blue for boys. We discovered that Dad would have liked to “collect” at least one more grandchild when we found a still boxed, child-sized director’s chair labeled “Baby X/Y” with both a red AND a blue cover ready and waiting - just in case. Oops, sorry Dad, we missed that memo!

Dad collected relationships, and it was this collection that was the unifying theme in his varied interests. While we knew our dad was a popular Chemistry teacher, with a reputation for his pre-winter break BOOM DAY (demonstrating explosive chemical reactions and only once blowing out a school window), a longtime scholar who excelled both in the classroom and in his wide areas of interest, or a lifelong pal to the “Friday night guys,” dining for 40+ years with them each week, we did not realize the scope of his influence in so many areas. From his beloved Home Theater Forum, to friends and family he would visit on his trips, to school chums from Kindergarten through college, and so many other realms, those who met Dad did not quickly forget him. His enthusiasm for whatever he was involved in was contagious. Yes, there were many that shared his responses or phone calls were often lengthy, more than a little wordy, and just maybe a bit more information than perhaps we felt was needed, we have been touched by the calls, notes, and emails that have shared just how generous he was with his time and his energy in sharing this knowledge and enthusiasm.

You are here today because you were a part of at least one of his many collections. Whether a childhood or school friend, colleague, member of one of his many associations, one of “the Boys,” or, one of, as he liked to say, “various and sundry” friends and family, we’ve had a great deal of comfort in the stories you have shared with us over these past weeks. For these memories and incredible stories, we thank you. While it is unlikely we can duplicate his energy level, amazing intellect, or wit, we will try to continue in his legacy and build on the collections and connections he has created as we go forward in remembrance and love for our Dad.

Dad, Grandpa, Bob, RAF, Doctor, Commissioner,Uncle, Friend, Companion … et. al., you were our teacher, our friend, and our consummate cheerleader. We will miss you and we will love you forever. BADA-BING!

 

[Mike Frezon]

Thank you, Adam for sharing that. It's wonderful.

I wish I had known RAF's son David was an RPI graduate when we met last week. My dad graduated RPI after he returned from Korea and my son is in his senior year there. Just another example of how RAF and his family had excellent taste!

 

[Cees Alons]

This brings forth a smile, a chuckle, a big laugh and a tear.

Beautifully worded.
Adam, thanks for sharing this great essay and beautiful eulogy - it will go in my collection of humorous, interesting and talented texts written by "just someone" I more or less know.

(And, BTW, yes: daughter of, no doubt about that.)


Cees

 

[Adam Gregorich]

Why I wish I could have had him for a chemistry teacher:

RAF is the one behind the fire extinguisher. Taken from his daughters FB page.

 

[Sam Posten]

Inspiring =)

 

[ManW_TheUncool]

Yes, inspiring indeed!

Certainly makes me want to work extra hard to improve various other areas of my own walk in life while *still* keeping up w/ my seemingly growing multitude of interests.

Thanks so much for sharing w/ all of us, Liz (and Adam)!

Warmest regards...

_Man_

 

[Brian Dobbs]

how sad. :-(

 

[Justin Lane]

RAF RIP.
You will be missed.

 

[Yee-Ming]

RIP, RAF.

I never had the privilege of meeting him in person, but I had the honour of filling in for him (temporarily, I thought) with the AI challenge this past season and he was unstinting in his help and encouragement despite his condition.

He will be missed. And I can think of no better way for me to honour his memory than to continue running the challenge he first started, so I guess the approximately five-month countdown to the start of the 2012 RAF AI Challenge starts now.

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]

 

[Raul Marquez]