Tom Pascoe (Brother)
Entered
October 25, 2016
from Whitby
Bob came tumbling into this world in the midst of the dirty thirties. There wasn't much money and what there was got spent on food. Toys were few. A hoop, stick, a kite, etc. So, Jim and I treated Bob like a new toy. We bounced him, rolled him and tickled him, and he always came up smiling.
Soon, Jim and I were off to school. Bob was lonely and bored. He was always looking for excitement. Found it by sticking his fingers into the automatic wringer-washer. Yep, that created lots of ado, screaming and hollering. Bob was so impressed that a month or so later, he did it again. This time he got a spanking for his efforts.
In his teens, Bob learned to drive and got better at it by rolling his car - twice. Some weeks in the hospital with a fractured pelvis left an impression on him.
As he progressed through life, I can think of three words to describe him - happy, optimistic and generous. Our grandmother, Emily Moore, nee Johnson, always told Mom that Bob would be the most generous one. She was right. Bob gave of himself in many ways with no strings attached.
Bob was a great competitor and excelled as a member of the Broadview YMCA wrestling team. He joined the Toronto Cycling Club along with Jim and I. Later he helped found the East York Wheelmen Cycling Club.
Bob, Jim and I cycled all our lives and caused confusion in the USA, as no one knew which Pascoe was leading. Just one week before his tragic aneurism, Bob was leading us out on the Waterfront Trail for our weekly ride.
So long, dear brother, we'll be seeing you.
Tom Pascoe
"The time you won the town your race,
They chaired you through the marketplace.
Man and all stood cheering by
As home they chaired you shoulder high.
Today, the race all runners run,
Shoulder high we bear you home,
And at your doorstep lay you down,
Your day is gone, your race is won."
-adapted from "To an Athlete Dying Young" by A.E. Housman.
