I attended the funeral service yesterday for Bob Hapgood, Sr.Â He was of course a neighbor of mine and the father to Tony and Bobby, childhood friends.
His death was sudden and unexpected, but the result ultimately of a food habit. Bob had heart surgery several years ago and had a recent heart attack. As his wife, Jeanne, said, “he went in for the surgery and never came home from the hospital.”
I admit it was a tougher loss than I thought it might be, to see the effects on the kids, my friends, eyes welling, but holding back the floods, bravely soldiering on. Bob was a local celebrity and apparently everyone’s friend; what seemed like the entire town reportedly showed for the viewing of the body the night before.Â Â The wait was over two hours for the entire two hours the viewing was open. I saw the Shotts’ at the funeral service, which was a pleasant surprise.
I have been doing a lot of reflection as we are prone to do in these instances. Bob was 65 â€”Â just a couple of years older than my father. The boys are a year older and a year younger than myself. I wonder if I am putting enough into living for the moment, and putting enough of myself into all of the important relationships in my life.
I have also been thinking about the lyrics of the song on Deathcab’s CD, “What Sara Said” and what a powerful piece that is.
Thanks for this posting, Peters. Anyone who listened to KNGL certainly knew Hapgood’s good nature–and antics. I must have heard King Midas (and the Sons of Midas) perform twenty or so times growing up.
I’m glad you saw my parents there. My dad was fairly close to Hapgood–and for some reason, during high school, my dad and several of the MHS guys of the time (the early 1960s) called Hapgood “The Rabbi.” Apparently he was some kind of guru of the day, or at least popular enough to warrant a nickname.
And I’m glad you were at the services, Peters, to represent us all. I haven’t seen Bobby and Tony in about a decade, I’d say. It must be a very hard time for them and the family.
A real loss for McPherson. And yes, it does make me also reflect on my parents’ ages and health and habits. My mom arrives in Minneapolis tomorrow to spend the Mother’s Day weekend with us, which is a nice thing. Both of my parents are turning 61 in the next month, and I don’t see them–or my sisters or any of my family, really–often enough. And I guess we’re getting to the point where we have to realize they all won’t be around forever. Neither will the Hollow Men. Though I’m heartened to think of my dad’s era at MHS and realize there was a syndicate of fellows not entirely unlike the HM. And then there’s us. And I have to believe there have already been other groups that have formed since our graduation, and there’s some comfort there in being part of that lineage.
I always remember Bob Hapgood honking a horn to cheer on people’s birthdays during his morning show on the radio.