LIVES LIVED

The Globe and Mail
Monday January 28 2002

Robert Norman McLean
Husband, father, business owner, politician. Born Oct. 12, 1942, in Toronto. Died Oct. 23, 2001, in Schomberg, Ontario, of cancer, aged 59.

Bob was many things to many people. He was a Cub-pack leader, baseball coach, politician, board member,
volunteer, business owner, father, and husband -- to name just a few of his roles. During his life, he received many honors and awards, and much recognition --he even received the Canadian Medal of Honor in 1992. He quietly accepted them all, but never bragged or boasted about them. He simply put them away in a drawer. It was not until recently that he put them in frames and
displayed them on the wall at the family business, Columbia Coffee and Tea Co., which his father had started 50 years ago, and which he now successfully ran.

In 1964, he married Maria, the girl he was set up with on a blind date by a friend. His friend had said, "It's just a blind date, you don't have to marry her." The newlyweds moved to Weston, Ont., and started to raise a family. Bob
became involved with the Weston Santa Claus Parade and the Farmers' Market, which led to two terms as alderman for the Weston area. Through it all, he was a family man first. Whether it was waking up the children and piling them into the station wagon for a surprise trip to the
drive-in, late-night runs to the hamburger joint in Hamilton, summer trips to the cottage, fishing, of Go karts, Bob created all kinds of fun and happy memories for his six children and, just as often, for their friends as well.

Two years ago, Bob was diagnosed with salivary gland cancer, a rare form of the disease. The following four months consisted of surgery, radiation, and prayers: all the while, a picture of a silver PT cruiser hung proudly on the
refrigerator. "When I win this battle I'm going to buy my self that car," Bob would say. The doctors claimed he was cured -- what a success -- but backed it up with their usual caveats.

As he recovered, he continued to do the things he loved to do: spending time at home on his farm with his wife of 37 years, visiting with his six children, feeding the fish in the pond with his grandchildren and vacationing in Supino, Italy, a small village that he adopted as a second home. The village of Supino also adopted him, their "Canadian son." When he returned home from the vacation, a silver PT cruiser was waiting in the driveway. This past summer, Bob began to tire easily, and after a short visit to his
second home in Italy, the worst was confirmed. The cancer was back with a vengeance. The quarterly check-ups had not been enough, the cancer was too aggressive, it was too late. Bob spent his life going out of his way to help others, but would not hear of anyone doing it for him. As he lay in bed at home, dying, he still could not think of himself. He took the egg crate foam cushion from under his bony, frail body and offered it to my wife: "Maybe this will help your sore back," he said. This was typical.

Bob was many things to many people. He was my hero, my inspiration, and my role model. He was the most unselfish person I will ever know. He was, he is, my dad. I was sitting with him, holding his hand the night he died. A part of me died that night, as well.

Kenneth McLean