Jack asked me to write "about 600 words" telling what it was like to work with Robert. I was honored by the request. And, the 30 day deadline seemed extravagant. But, what started to become clear, as the days wore on was; this wasn't going to be as easy as I originally thought.
You see, I really didn't get to say goodbye to Robert. In fact, I started to write a letter to him, which I never finished. Even though I had 28 memorable years with him, there wasn't closure. Our relationship, which was more like a "father/son" relationship than anything else, had gone through many phases, some basic, some complicated. Strangely, the last project we worked on was Les Bordes. Strange because it was the original Les Bordes course that we worked jointly on 25 years earlier. It was really my first time as "project architect" - responsible for all the technical details. How could we have known, it would also be the last project we would work on together. These things started weighing on me, as I began writing "600 words about what it was like to work with Robert".
In the article, I mention the infamous "radical" comment I made to Robert about Les Bordes. The funny part is; my comment spoke to the strong character of the golf course. Each golf hole has distinct character. There was nothing subtle about the visual quality of each golf hole, of the golf course. It was this "powerful visual character" that I was referring to, when I said the golf course was "radical". But, the word didn't clear my lips before Robert had a near allergic reaction. You had to know him to understand how uncensored his reactions could be. And, on this particular occassion, his reaction was memorable. Like I said, it left an indelible mark and was never forgotten - or, likely, forgiven.
The last time I saw Robert, he sat in a chair in my office and, for the first time really, talked about his battle with cancer, about quality of life issues, being a burden to family and friends and his treatment options. It was a brief, touching and surreal moment. The scene was familiar, him sitting in a chair in my office. But, his candor about his situation, if not comprehensive and precise, was piercing and poignant.
I had recently lost my mother to cancer. The only thing I could think to say was, our family had been grateful for every minute we shared with my mother. The entire exchange lasted maybe 5 minutes. He stood up, wished me good luck on my upcoming trip to Europe, shook my hand and left my office. I sat there disorientated, sensing something of great magnitude had just transpired. We spoke very briefly on the phone perhaps 2 times after this, and only about business. But, I never saw him again. It's still difficult to reconcile this ending, after 28 years.
The photo of him (above), was taken in 2008 at Les Bordes. It's probably my favorite picture of him because he is looking right into the camera and the moment is spontaneous, casual. It captures the sense of satisfaction, accomplishment and happiness, which emenated from him. It's exactly how I remember him. How I always want to remember him.
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