Some of our customers hunt with us for one trip, some have come for a few years, or every few years. Many have hunted with us for years - hosting them is like having good friends come for a visit. A few have been with us for so long that they are like family; when they are not here, something just doesn't seem right...
Almost everyone that has hunted with us over the last 11 years has had the Bob Barth experience. He's the one zipping by on his electric blue golf cart, or on the WWII Willys Jeep (with the plywood doors!). The one that regularly bounced his vehicles off of whatever happened to be near his 'landing zone'. If you were a new face to him, he would write your name on his hand. Sometimes he had so many names, he had to move on up to his wrist. He's the one that could weld a peice of bubblegum to a plastic straw - no problem. He was always involved with a project; up on a roof spreading tar, digging a trench, rigging a gun, driving Aunt Do crazy; he never stood still.
Often you would realize he had arrived by the whistling sound his hearing aids made - he would always complain that they were malfunctioning, not that his hearing was the problem! He made exhaustive notes about each of our hunting stands, and truly sweated the 'draw' that we used to do when assigning stands. He is our only hunter to regularly bring a binder full of notes to choose a stand. He just knew that his hunting success was dependent on getting a low number. He good naturedly took the ribbing and practical jokes he always got from the other hunters. There was always big fun when the stands were moved or renamed. He would be truly perplexed for days! He never had more than one drink a day - but it was in a gallon-size trucker's mug that seemed to be permanently attached to his cupholder.
We have all watched Mr. Barth fight his cancer. No one has ever fought with more determination. Sheer will took him years longer than anyone could have expected. Mr. Bob lost this fight on Easter Sunday. Our hearts are all saddened - there will be too much quiet here come deer season. No electric zing of the golf cart, no whistling hearing aids, no cry of "Jimmy!" at 5:00 in the morning when he wants to be sure to get a certain deer stand.
If you would like to send your condolences to his wife, Dorothy, you can write her at: 1175 Bay Road, Mount Dora, Florida, 32757. The family has asked that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to Cornerstone Hospice, 2445 Lane Park Road, Tavares, FL 32778. If you would like to see his obituary, please click here: http://www.legacy.com/orlandosentinel/DeathNotices.asp?Page=Notice&PersonID=126199526
Godspeed, Mr. Bob...
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