I met Bob in high school when he was new to the Lou. His mom, Nan, was a writer and we had that passion in common and his dad was a down to earth everyman who you knew worked hard for his wife and two boys. Tim and Bob had a brotherly love that was also a bonded friendship and spending time at Bob’s house was an experiment in free range parenting, something I appreciated coming from a family of seven. We often invaded Bob’s house because his parents were open-minded and we could almost get away with anything. Bob’s room was a tornado of chaos the likes you would expect of a technology genius: parted out computers and his sweetheart workstation somehow frankensteined to do the impossible in the mid 90’s: make websites and access every corner of the internet. We are all probably proud owners of passwords and access codes only Bob knew how to acquire. I remember when he showed me a flash website he designed for a neon shop on Cherokee Street. To me it was a shift in my worldview. We could create visceral experiences out of code and electricity. This at the time when the internet was charging by the minute, Bob was already evolving the web with high quality interactions. That never stopped. When he went to SEMO for college and joined the same fraternity as me, we became brothers and our fun times continued at the shack and the purple crackle and it was always worth the hour and half haul to Cape Girardeau to see him, until he decided to leave college to begin work coding and developing which took him to places like DC, Chicago and of course the Left Coast, where he really found his place in the coming technology revolution that was google. To say everyone back in this town was excited is an understatement. I remember when Bob sent me a video of him presenting a seminar on the Android API overseas, and while I literally had no idea what he was talking about, I loved that he was so passionate about his work. Bob was that type of amazing genius who when his mind found a challenge that he felt code could answer, his heart and his being were drawn to it with such a magnetism, the allure of being a pioneer and a changemaker probably never crossed his mind. Bob was humble, patient, even with his frenetic wired mind, and his work became a signature, to the point we called him crazy. Crazy Bob. Who else in their early twenties was brave enough to bet on their self like he had. I think a lot of us are still waiting to call their shot like Bob had the courage to do. I remember when Dagny was on the way, he invited me out to the place with Krista and him and I gave him a blanket for his daughter. The last picture Bob sent me was of Dagny, now a teenager, draped in that tiny cover as they played a video game. Scout, I see your dad’s intense kindness and courage in those eyes. It is a full circle moment, to know how much he loved his family and that his best traits—loyalty, a life of meaning—were transmuted into his loved ones like that. Bob was known for many nuances of his personality: his outright obsession with everything apple and Steve Wozniak, and also anything Java, and other than developing the most innovative technologies of our generation, he loved life. He was a consummate pro at life. He filled his cup from that fountain of youth, surrounding himself with amazing people, experiences and ideologies. I remember more than once Bob calling me out on my biases for the hope of convincing me of universal love and acceptance of others. In that way while Bob was a technocrat he was also very human, compassionate and generous with his time, effort and friendship. For two very intelligent but maybe sometimes naive friends like us to seem so compatible is rare, I have yet to meet someone who understood my truth and challenged me like that, also accepting me for my quirks, and I hold close the special connection we maintained throughout our lives. Bob had accomplished great feats of technical prowess and I lauded his success to anyone I could, a hopeful tale that anyone can achieve profound success when they find a passion and work as hard as he did, though really he was gifted beyond measure with white hot intelligence both mental and social. We texted over the years and we never really cared about work except to share that brotherly comparison of our progress, his projects and my projects, and to share emoji and kind words. When Bob came to town we never had anything except the best of times, with lots of adventure, friends, hugs and positivity. When his mom passed and we met at the celebration of Nan’s life, we his friends shared stories and laughed with a bold hilarity that was the Lee standard, the sign of a genuine life, imperfect, sometimes raw, always authentic, overfull with love. The memory of his smile will last the rest of my days, I am sure many of you know that smile, those cool eyes, that dimpled face that seemed to accept your inner truth, that trademark laugh. They are a daily reminder to me to always appreciate the time you have with your loved ones. To Krista, I want to say, we are all your family. We love you and your girls, and we will do our best to make sure they know anything they want to know about their dad, especially from those early years when we were all just kids trying our best to be grown-ups. And to Tim —I still can’t call you Oliver—I want you to know you are also my brother and I share that sense of brotherhood with you, many of us do, when you think of the good times, the nonsense, the hijinx, and the bonds formed in those shared experiences. To Rick, thank you for raising a man who took personal responsibility, who had confidence, who was resilient and also unwavering in his positivity. We are all better to the benefit of your and Nan’s passion for life. And to Dagny and Scout, believe me when I say your father loved you more than than life itself, more than any amazing tech or any elegant code, more than all of those wild stories that make a life well lived. You are his north star, the center of his universe. You both are his greatest work. In you Bob found true meaning, something to be proud of for the purest reason, because in you his life was complete. I long for a chance to just see your father in person to just be in the presence of white hot talent imbued with the greatest sense of lovingkindness and acceptance of others, so I hope you both continue in that cause to champion an ideal world where love is all that matters. And for all of us here, who were impressed by this man, this truly amazing soul of a man, I can only share in the loss you feel, also knowing we need just think of a moment we shared with Bob, one that reached into our deepest sense of self, made us to feel accepted as only Bob would do, and know we are all better for having known Bob Lee, more than that we are deeply fortunate, for “if you have nothing in life but a good friend, you’re rich.” And Bob Lee, crazy as he might have seemed, was a good friend to us all. His memory leaves an embarrassment of riches too great to measure. Thank you.