Eulogy given by Meraloma,
Tom Henderson, close friend and long time teaching colleague of Bobby Umemura.

BOBBY U

I met Bob in 1966. I was 17, in Grade 11 at Kitsilano High School, my first year of Juvenile Meraloma football at Connaught Park. We had a hall-of-fame coaching staff, and as young as we were, we instinctively sensed the quality of those men who shared their time and passion for the game with us - volunteer coaches who had played a lot of football - and knew what it took to win, knew the importance of effort, and teamwork, and locker room chemistry, and commitment. They weren't much older than we were - just 24 or 25, but to a team of 17 year old boys, that was a vast difference. We knew them by their reputations, in school and in sports: Bruce McArthur, Ron Harrison, Gordie Jakobek Jack Chisholm, and Bob Umemura. They all had nicknames - Hoggo, Cleats, Big Jake, Uncle Jack - but Bob had two - Umy and Moon. It was a good thing, too, because nobody on the team could pronounce Umemura - but we were all so afraid of him that, to stay out of trouble, everybody just called him 'Coach.'

Bob was never loud in practice or in a game - his emotions were always contained. He never used profanity, but every now and then, something would displease him. "That browns me off," he'd say. And if he was especially upset- "That really browns me off2. It became his signature for as long as I've known him.

That was a heck of a good team - the beginning of terrific football careers for quarterback Blaine Fransen and wide receiver Mark McDonald. We also had the fastest back in the league - Brian Coles - a real burner. One practice, he irritated Bob - strutted too much - and Bob hated guys who strut too much.

"Coles, you brown me off. You think you're fast? You're not fast. This guy is fast, and you know what, Coles? He's a lineman!" And Bob introduced Ken Ferguson to the team,, a guest coach, and they had a 40 yard race - Ken and Brian. We fully expected our guy to win by 10 yards, because Brian was fast. Ken beat him by 10 yards. Nobody said anything. No need. Bob massaged the story over the years.

"10 yards, is that right, Umy? Pretty decisive."

"Closer to 15," Bob always said. "Should have been 20. I think Fergie got a bad start."

Bob went to Kitsilano as a student, and graduated in 1960 with every award they offered. He then went to Utah State to play football, and earned a Bachelor of Science degree in 1965. He returned to Kitsilano in 1966 as a brand new teacher, specializing in Physical Education and Mathematics. His students loved him from day one, and in P.E. especially, he was revered - for his strength, his endurance, and his sense of fair play. He was the standard the boys aspired to, and they constantly tested themselves by testing Bob. One year the Grade 12 boys challenged the teachers to a softball game. "You've heard of softball, Mr. UMARAMA - a bigger ball to give you old guys a chance."

"UMARAMA? Did you call me UMARAMA just now, Chester? You know what? I was going to play centre field, but you brown me off, so I'm going to pitch instead." That's what happened. Bob pitched and Blaine caught, and after watching the first couple of rockets thud into Blaine's glove in the warmup, there was no rush to get into the batter's box. Bob 'windmilled' them all into submission, hit a couple of home runs, we won 12 - 0, Chester learned never to mistake UMARAMA for Umemura, and the Grade 12's didn't challenge us to softball anymore.

The next year, the senior boys lobbied for a rugby game against the teachers - "That is, if you're up, to it, Mr. Umemura- you and all the other old fossils." This from Kevin Graham. A nice kid, but bad timing. "You know what, Graham? You really brown me off!." Bob called for the ball, ran over every man on their team, then passed off to Bill McCann for the first of a potful of tries. We squeaked by them 3 5 -0, and the Grade 12's didn't challenge us to rugby anymore.

They didn't learn - the Grade 12's. Wrestling, they said the next year. We'll beat you at wrestling. And for a while they did. One teacher, John Lane, broke his arm. Another, Bert Voth, cracked a rib. Pandemonium in the packed gym! Then a trade-off for a while. Tie match: 6 - 6. Final bout. Then the biggest, toughest Grade 12 thug in the province took the centre of the mat. He was a Greek Arnold Schwarznegger - huge, hairy, muscular, the kind of kid who starts shaving in Grade Seven.

"Umy, you going down, man!" And Schwarzopolous pointed at Bob.

"You hear that, Bob?" I said. "Umy - in front of everybody. And he pointed, too. A bona-fide strutter."

Bob shook his head sadly. "Kids these days ... no respect."

"Listen - don't kill him, Okay?"

Bob smiled his trademark smile. "O.K." Fifteen seconds later, the gym was quiet, Arnold Schwarzopolous learned never to point - or call Bob 'Umy' - and the Grade 12's didn't challenge us to wrestling any more.

When I think back on those years in the P.E. Department, I realize what a special time it was - I was fortunate to work with Bob, Blaine, Bill McCann, Vic Barber, and Barry Church. We all got along and had a lot of fun with the kids. And more than once,, Bob told me how lucky we all were to have Stan Lawson as the Department Head. Stan brought humour, organization, and stability to our department. He knew everyone's strengths very well, and tailored units to accommodate them. We had courses in contact, weight training, racquet sports, and gymnastics - and Bob's classes were always packed - standing room only. His students never missed because they respected him for his ability and his demeanour. He showed by example - quietly, effectively - and coaxed his kids to greater effort - never quit, you can do it. Want to bench 250 pounds, here's how. Want to throw a football properly? Here's how. Want to hit a badminton bird, do a forward roll, dribble a basketball, here's how. But more than anything, Bob was known for running - not a short way - a long way, and in a hurry."I'm taking the class for a run," Bob said one day. "Wanna come?" He knew I had a spare. I had to go. The period was 60 minutes long.

"Where we going?"

"Not far."

Off we went, a class of 30 - down Larch to Broadway, east on Broadway to Granville, down Granville over the Granville Street Bridge, left on Drake to Burrard, back over the Burrard Street Bridge up to Broadway, and back to the school. One person was back in time for the next class - Umy. The rest straggled in half an hour late, an hour late, and a few never came back at all. To this day, missing in action.

A week later, Bob said, "I'm taking the class for a run. Wanna come?"

"Where you going, Abbotsford?"

"Not far."

"Bob.. "

"Up 10th to U.B.C. Just to the Gates and back."

"Oh - up 10th. You mean the hill that starts at Dunbar and continues at a 45 degree angle for three miles to Blanca? I'll pass today."'

"O.K. See you in 40 minutes."

Back, showered and changed in 50. He did this week in, week out, year in, year out. A Kitsilano legend. Amazing. The stories about Umy kept piling up, tumbling over each other - the time Blaine and Bill tried to take his car keys out of his hand at the Legion. Futile. They couldn't have opened his hand with a crowbar. But no-one could find his car anyway, so it worked out all right.

Stories. Bob doing 100 "finger tip" push-ups just for the heck of it - or 50 dips with a 50 pound weight hanging from his neck. Or 100 situps in 60 seconds. Whatever the challenge, Bob met it - and not only met it - exceeded it - always.

But of course there was more to Bob than sheer physical ability - much, much more. He was a man who was concerned for his fellow man and acted on that concern. People were important to him. John Donne, in 1623, might have been thinking about someone like Bob when he wrote: 'no man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...', and he further cautioned us - 'never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.' Donne recognized that people cannot live in isolation, that we need each other to prosper, and urged all of us to accept and answer the bell of social responsibility.

Bob always answered that bell. He was a citizen in the finest sense of the word. He was proud to be a Canadian and proud to be from Kitsilano. He participated in the world, and contributed to his community, simply because it was the right thing to do. He gave religiously to the Red Cross- over 180 pints in his lifetime. He taught Advanced Mathematics to gifted kids at Summer School every year to help them on their way. He volunteered for every worthwhile cause - every paper drive, every hanger drive, every car wash - because it was the right thing to do.

And because he gave so generously of his time and energy, he didn't understand apathy in people, or pettiness, or hypocrisy. Too many other things, - things of value - were important to him. What did Bob value? Courtesy, justice, fairness, morality, truth - but above all else, he valued honour and loyalty. Those were the qualities he offered to his friends, and those were the qualities he received in return - because it was something very special to be counted as one of Bob's friends. When a man of his calibre extended his hand in friendship, it made you feel good, it legitimized you, made you feel your own life was worthwhile, and you were doing something right after all - and I am very grateful for that friendship.

You know, ladies and gentlemen, it remains very difficult, impossible really, to speak adequately about Bob. How do you take the measure of a man? How do you gauge the success of his life? What barometers do you use? Wealth? Career achievement? Social status? Sometimes. By any measure, Bob's life was a success, but I think the strength and goodwill of this congregation, more than anything, bear unshakeable testimony to that success.

His colleagues from Kitsilano are here in force. Bob enjoyed them all, and reserved a special feeling for a small core. He was a very private man, not given to demonstration, but I know he deeply respected Stan, both as a mentor and a friend. He relied on and trusted Blaine, because they were of the same era, and they understood each other perfectly. He appreciated and admired Loma McKenzie for her unquenchable spirit and devotion to the school. He liked Bob Gatto immensely for his infectious sense of humour and natural kindness, and time and again, he'd meet Anne Uchiyama at their kids' judo lessons - and I think, Anne, he'd want you to know he liked you very much, and always held you in the highest regard.

His friends are all here - uncountable - united in their esteem and love for Bob, as are his brothers and sisters - Irene, Iku, Marvin, Mac, Bud, Nobbi, and Keith - and their families as well.

Sue, Craig, Karin, yours is a wonderful family, and you will continue to thrive, all of you, in large part because of Bob - who he was - and what he stood for. But please remember that while you were lucky to have Bob, he was just as lucky to have you. You were the most precious part of his life. You gave his life texture, and substance, and purpose. You made him complete. Carry that certainty with you always.

Sue - one last thing. When you look up Bob's name in the phone book, it's listed under M.B.Umemura. M? A puzzle. What does that M stand for? I was a little worried that it might stand for something odd - Mortimer, or Melrose - and we'd have to drum Bob out of the Meraloma Brotherhood. But it stands for Masaru. Masaru - Japanese for the undefeated warrior - the victor. Sometimes a name fits pretty well.

Bob is gone now - a man of quiet reserve and natural dignity, whose essence can be distilled with absolute clarity - his word was always good - and his heart always in the right place. What can we do to honour his memory? I think Bob would be very pleased if we live our lives as best we can, try and do the right thing, and remain faithful to ourselves and to each other. I know that, right now, we all have special, private thoughts for Bob. On behalf of this assembly, may I also offer him our collective good wishes and prayers.

Masaru Bobby Umemura

Safe journey.
Rest in peace.