A Gentle Giant
How do you say Good-bye to
someone you love?
Brian Kurt Bob passed away on his birthday, March 21, 2023; he was 57 years old.
“The world lost a bright light, a beacon of love, with a heart that held so much love and compassion” writes Jean. “Brian loved BIG, laughed long, and knew how to make others feel heard and seen.”
She continues, “Our friendship is one for the ages lasting 36 years. We fell in love the minute we met and my life, along with countless others, was enriched immensely because of Brian. I will miss him everyday for the rest of my life.
Rest in love my sweet, sweet Brian Bob.”
I used to tease Jean that she had two soulmate husbands, a straight one, Kent, and a gay one, Brian. But the truth is, the heart knows no gender nor sexual identification.
Love is Love is Love.
She had enough room in her heart for both men and it was this love that gave them both the energy and space to share that love with others.
Brian took his talents to the streets, where he found his passions as the Outreach Director with the Covenant House, a program who has devoted their time and energy toward young people experiencing homelessness and trafficking. From the moment Brian arrived at this organization, he knew it was his home. He dedicated over 30 years of his life with this organization.
https://www.covenanthouse.org/charity-blog/being-moment
YouTube video featuring Brian Bob with the Covenant House
This was our FRIENDS group.
When I met Brian, he was rarely seen without Jean by his side. I met them both at my childhood YMCA located in Long Beach, CA. I had just returned from a challenging year in graduate school in San Francisco and came home to recover. The medicine that these two people offered me (A Summer of Joy) was the prescription my soul required.
It was 1988 and we were all still in our twenties. Brian and I ran a teen caravan/camp program and took kids on many adventures. Some resemble a MEATBALLS-type environment, like the time we took a ferry to Catalina Island (26 miles across the Pacific Ocean) and found ourselves climbing cliffs and jumping into the ocean. Perhaps that would not pass legal with today’s camp safety requirements, but I was needing joy and Brian was willing to join me; plus, the kids had a fabulous time!
But my most impressionable memory from that summer fun was always seeing Jean and Brian walking side-by-side, typically recovering from a joke (still laughing) or about to embark upon another one!
Although our community of camp leaders resided within the YMCA building, we often took it off campus. Once off-site, Jean (and her two husbands) spent copious amounts of time conjuring up more adventures, oftentimes in the living room of their home. Like the show FRIENDS, we gathered on their couch and in their kitchen after work hours. We ate a lot of pizza and salad and played video games and watched movies. We used to say that Jean never really watched any of those movies as she would snuggle up on the floor or couch with a warm blanket and once the opening scenes commenced, she would be OUT like a light.
For a brief period of time, we were inseparable, all the while helping raise one another out of our adolescence and into adulthood.
We each knew this time was temporary, but we grasped onto each moment, until we knew it was time to move on. Feeling both sad and happy for this realization, it became a necessary effort to fly from the "Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning." We knew we each had a bigger (and necessary) adventure awaiting us.
Jean and Kent got married on the Queen Mary ship
I began to travel during my summers and began my teaching career with LBUSD, eventually meeting Michael and marrying him.
… and Brian fulfilled his dream of working for the Covenant House.
On the official website of Covenant House, a specific dedication aptly titled, “Being in the Moment” dedicates a piece to Brian.
“Three decades later, it would be impossible to calculate the number of young people Brian has counseled and relentlessly supported, the number of young people who consider him family, and the impact he’s made at our Covenant House programs in Los Angeles, Oakland, and New York.
“The thing I try to do most is to be in the moment with every young person I meet,” says Brian. “We need to let each of our young people know they are loved. We need to be there, we need to be present, at a time when so many young people feel they are all alone in the world.”
… And yet, he often talked about how difficult it was to be a Black man in America.
“Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”
“And the other trait you need doing street outreach, which I still struggle with every single day, is the ability to move on,” says Brian. “This work will break you if you think you can help every young person you meet at that very moment. You can go home, you can be in touch with the sadness, but when you come back the next day, you need to be present for the next young person. Every young person deserves the best version of ourselves that we can be.”
The resilience Brian speaks of in his work at Covenant House is the same resilience he feels best describes being a Black man in America.
“And yet, we continue to rise,” says Brian. “That is in our DNA as Black Americans. That is our history, and that is what we will continue to do. Just like the young people at Covenant House. They are resilient, they are strong, and it continues to be one of the great blessings of my life to be a small part of their individual journeys as they rise.”
The thing I am very grateful about with this FRIENDS group is the time we spent in sheer laughter. I don’t think I laughed so much as when I was with them! They help close up old wounds, filling them with joy and playfulness that I will never forget.
“Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.”
Love is Love is Love
I am so grateful to have known you, Brian Bob.
I will miss you forever.
